Jeff Lucas on the ‘mortifying’ moment the police stopped him

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Decades ago, when my wife, Kay, and I were courting, we would exchange excruciating love letters loaded with syrup and spirituality: “Dear Kay, I love you so much, hallelujah, praise the Lord, but not as much as I love Jesus, glory to God.” Yuk. 

We were very keen young Christians, and our enthusiasm for Jesus also extended to the stickers that adorned my car. The 1956 Austin A35 was a rust bucket with a driver’s window held closed by rope. But we were determined that our motor would be a jalopy for Jesus. We stuck a fluorescent yellow “God loves you!” sticker on the boot and sported another decal that advised fellow motorists: “In the event of the rapture, this car will be driverless”. We had enough fish stickers to make it look like a mobile aquarium. 

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