February 28, 2008

I got fingerprinted at the Fayette County Jail!

Okay, so that sounds like the start of a good story, but it really isn't all that exciting.

In order to become foster parents, Laura and I had to have our fingerprints on file. We looked around at different options, and it looked like the best place would be the local jail. And best of all, they didn't charge any fees, as some places did.

So we went to the jail, after calling to make sure that was a good time to go. Being a small jail in a somewhat rural county, they weren't doing much that day, so we didn't have to wait. And these days, fingerprints are taken electronically and automatically uploaded to the FBI database. No ink, no mess.

But the woman who was in charge of getting our fingerprints into the machine was apparently used to dealing with less-than-cooperative criminals instead of well-meaning future foster parents. The machine didn't like something about my fingerprints, and it took several tries on some of my fingers, which were moved around rather forcefully by the jailer woman. I'm sure she meant well and was doing the best she could do, but I would hate to see how she treated someone who wasn't fully cooperating with her. So after several tries, we were both successfully fingerprinted. And the FBI didn't come calling to say that our fingerprints matched those from some unsolved crime scene, so all was well.

Recently, a young friend of ours was working on an elementary science fair project, and he had chosen fingerprints as his subject. Specifically, he was checking to see if people who were related shared the same fingerprint pattern. So once again, we were fingerprinted.

But this time it was much more simple than before. Only one finger, specifically the right thumb. And no fancy machine, and no ink, either. I just had to press my thumb on a piece of paper that had been scribbled on with a pencil, and then a piece of tape was put on my thumb to extract the print. But once again, my fingerprints proved to be less than cooperative, and it took a couple of tries to get a good print from me. At least he was more gentle than the jail woman.

That got me to thinking about the uniqueness of fingerprints. Just think of all the billions of people in the world right now. And then think of the billions more that have gone before us. And then realize that none of us has ever had the exact same fingerprints. Amazing, isn't it? Even the print one of my fingers doesn't match any of my other fingers.

And yet with all that complexity, all those many people, we are all still important in the Creator's sight.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. - Psalm 139:13-16

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