Yesterday in church, our pastor said, "You cannot passively achieve what you do not actively pursue." When I heard this, my mental engine revved: "Gentlemen, start your engines!"
It feels like I've been sitting in neutral at the starting line since June. I thought I'd rack up all kinds of productive miles with the extra time I have after cutting back my hours at Starbucks. Instead, I've found that I'm reluctant to press the accelerator.
I grew up in Indiana, home to the Indy 500. If you're not familiar with The Greatest Spectacle in Racing, let me bring you up to speed: professional drivers maneuver high performance cars at speeds in excess of 200 mph around a 2.5 mile oval track for 200 laps on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend for a prize of $2.5 million before 250,000 fans. Interesting job, if you can get it.
I consider myself skilled; not race car driver skilled, but still. Lately, as I've had more time to examine those and consider how I might use them in some way other than serving people and coffee, I feel like I'm a circling a track than a tearing up the strip.
I don't think God intended my life to be defined by how I fast I can steer through turns one through four, or how fast I can maneuver through traffic on the straightaways. But I'm used to the pressure of the race's pace, the roar of approval from the fans, and the thrill of seeing the checkered flag waving as I finish the final lap. God is showing me He wants me to exit the track and drive.
There's open road before me and I don't know what to do with it.
Where am I going?
How long will it take to get there?
Are you saying I should go NOW?
Do you want me to go by myself?
Who has the directions?
He's just saying, "Drive."