I've always felt the intoxicating nature of speed deep in my bones, a pining to fly down a mountain, down a road, around a track. Simultaneously though, I have felt the reigns of logic, a sensible fear that I suppose I inherited from my mother. Last weekend, I stood near a car that shot off the start line and in less than six seconds, had reached the finish line a quarter of a mile away. The ground rumbled and shook me to the bones, the engine snarled with a fury that pierced through my earplugs, and I sensed that my need for speed had met its match.My boss took me to the drag races, his favorite hobby (if you can really call it that), to introduce me to the racing world and to help out. I had no idea what that meant at the time, I only knew that I had no idea what I was getting myself into. His team, Archangel Racing, is named after Michael, the chief archangel in the Bible who battles the wicked. Almost every other team on the track sports names like "Pure Evil" and "Hell on Wheels", but we were there to prove that the righteous can prevail. I was grill-master and queen of errands, but mostly I was free to roam. I learned quite a lot about the drag racing world and surprisingly even more about myself.
The winning power of perseverance.
Each of the Pro-Mod cars that raced last weekend in Sonoma were the prized trophies of hours, days, months, and for some, years of work. The assembling, cleaning, tuning, repairing and strategizing of each part that is necessary to shave off hundredths of seconds, means nothing if you are unable to execute perfectly on the day of the race when the light hits green.
Details matter.
Perfection is in the diligence of the details. Few people know the extreme amount of work that goes into each car and every race, and few care if you are unable to win. I see many parallels between drag racing and business, both are worlds in which details don't only matter once, they matter each and every time.
Being a racer for God is tbe ultimate.
My relationship with God is the one that takes the most work, work that no one sees and no one applauds. I find myself working for weeks and months on certain areas of my life and heart, sometimes with no external signs of improvement. Then comes race day, a trial that puts all of my prayer and soul-searching to the test. No excuses can be given about my performance, I've had all the tools I needed and I've known this day would come. Except unlike drag racing, though, I can't blame the engine if I lose because I have been given all the power I need and I have been promised it will not fail. Jesus has given me all I need, the freedom to fly is finally mine. We may not know what race we are preparing for, but we can take heart knowing that whatever it may be, we are on the winning side.
