Nine-year-old Gary, along with the other boys in his Sunday school class, each bought a “pine-wood derby” race-car kit, intending to build and race them.
He worked diligently on the model. When he finished, he was quite proud of the little wooden car which he had painted blue proud until “race day.” Then reality hit. Gary looked at the other sleek, highly polished cars, carved from the blocks of pine wood, and his car seemed out of place. It didn’t have a “sleek” race-car look, and its paintbrush finish was rough compared to all the spray-painted finishes.
The race would be an “elimination” each boy racing his car down the long, slick, wooden ramp, until it was eliminated by a faster car. Strangely enough, Gary’s roughly finished and blocky-looking car did quite well. One after another of the cars were eliminated-but Gary’s kept right on winning.
Finally the last race was about to begin the championship between Gary’s car and what was clearly the most beautiful, sleek-looking derby car of all a low-slung, glossy-yellow speedster.
Just as the two cars were being lined up, Gary asked if they would wait for a minute he wanted to pray. The room grew silent as little Gary, holding his funny looking blue car, bowed his head and, with a brow wrinkled in deep concentration, spent almost two minutes silently praying. Then, opening his eyes, he announced, “Okay, I’m ready.”
The two cars started, picking up speed as they sped down the ramp. Amazingly, Gary’s car crossed the finish line just barely in front of its rival.
Prizes were handed out to all who took part, and when Gary’s turn came to receive his championship prize, the man who was giving them out said to him, “So you prayed to win, huh, Gary?”
The little boy looked up at his questioner in surprise. “Oh, no, I didn’t ask God to help me beat the other car. I just asked Him to make it so I wouldn’t cry when I lost.”
Do we honor our loving and giving God by asking largely of Him, or do we assume, through lack of faith, that we dare not expect much, though we know He owns the cattle on a thousand hills?
Joash, king of Israel (2 Kings 13:13-20), was given an opportunity to accept largely from Jehovah, through God’s prophet Elisha. But the king, evidently not acting in faith, struck the ground with his arrows only three times. The sick and dying prophet became angry at this lack of faith “thou shouldest have smitten five or six times.” Such spiritual energy would have brought full victory over the enemy.
How often are we challenged in our Christian pathway to “prove Me now... saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive” (Mal. 3:10).
Is the One who “is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think” worthy to be trusted at every moment of our lives to give the best? For what, then, are you willing to ask Him?
Ed.