Jeri's Journal

This past week, we had a series of charitable activities at work. One of the events was a remote control (RC) car race. The organizers mapped out a race track in our large meeting room with colored tape—complete with a bridge and a four-posted, bannered finish line. My co-worker, Mary and I, attended the race to cheer on our fellow co-workers. Towards the end of the races, however, they were looking for a couple more contestants, and our boss coerced the two of us into a race. Actually, it was an encore of sorts. Earlier on in the day, we had been chided into running a mock race between heats. Our performance on track (okay—the term “on track” is probably not the best descriptor here)…let’s just say that we provided a comedy break in the proceedings! Our cars (and our pride) wandered and careened all over the place to the amusement of everyone.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to try your hand at RC racing, but in my defense, it looks easier than it actually is. You have four basic commands: left, right, forwards and backwards. Easy enough, right? Well, it works great on the straightaway, once you get the hang of the two controls. It all goes bad, however, when you round the corner and start heading back. Everything gets confused at that point! As the car speeds back at you, it’s going forward, but you start thinking backwards. Left becomes right and (at least for me) you lose perspective entirely and begin to drive like a drunk on a rampage!

So our race toward redemption was on. Mary and I had a chance to regain our dignity. We both started out pretty well. Okay—I missed the bridge entirely, but we weren’t all playing by NASCAR rules anyway, so I went on and around the first curve. I somehow managed to make it through the first two laps. The third and final time around, Mary was in the lead. I determined that this time, I would make the bridge—and I did! Then, I lost it completely! Meanwhile, Mary (whose competitive spirit had kicked in) was making her way down the straightaway and around the final curve toward the finish line.

There I was, all the way across the room—facing backwards! I determined at that point that my only option was to just gun it. I slammed on the reverse lever and zoomed backwards with full power all the way across the room in total disregard of the track boundaries. I was in this to WIN! Finding myself backed up to the far wall under a stacking chair, I dashed forward with full force towards the finish line. At the same time, Mary (who had been a bit less ceremoniously making her way home) had rounded the final corner and was just getting to the finish line, when “SMACK!” my car hit the corner of the finish line post, toppling the whole thing over, right in front of Mary’s car. It was a spectacular finish!

Needless to say, I lost the race; Mary had proven herself the more worthy driver. We returned to the role of spectator, cheering on our co-workers who were competing for the big win. At the end, the prizes (a little 4-inch plastic winner’s cup, a die-cast metal car and a Starbuck’s card) were handed out. As I turned to leave, I was called up to the front. My humiliation was not yet over. To my surprise (and no one else’s) I received the trophy for “Worst Driver.” Now, I will forever go down in history at work as the one to watch out for in the parking lot. But hey—I “won” something, which was pretty cool in my book!

Seriously, I won at losing. I got the prize while Mary didn’t. Surely, she was more deserving of that Starbuck’s card (and I did bring her in a Grande the next morning) but I was the one who got the prize. Mary was better at keeping on track. She more carefully navigated the curves and persevered—even after I inadvertently ran into her three times! It doesn’t seem fair that I “won” and she missed out on the prize, does it? Yet when you think about it, as believers in Christ, even though we are all sinners, we all win. We all have careened and crashed and treated God’s boundaries with disregard, but God in His mercy has forgiven our wanderings and given us the ultimate prize: redemption through His amazing grace. I didn’t deserve the win. None of us deserve the win, but the fact remains that we are all winners at losing.

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:8-16, NIV)

Next: Mary’s Race