Friday 2 October 2009

You may not be able to hear it in my voice, but you could be listening to the sound of an Olympic sprinter in the making.

Perhaps I should explain. I live on a fairly busy road, and often people forget about the houses and the children playing nearby and just put their foot down like they're at Le Mans or somewhere. Every now and then a car will spin out of control and wrap itself round a lamppost or re-model somebody's garden wall. All of which goes to explain why the council have installed one of those fancy speed warning signs which is triggered when a car goes by too quickly. As the car approaches too fast, it flashes up "30mph" in the middle, with a big red light on each corner.

So imagine my surprise, then, when I was plodding home from work the other day and it flashed its speed warning at me as I passed underneath. Wow! 30mph...on foot...at the end of a busy day! I looked around for a car or motorbike - but there were none to be seen. Now, for someone who always came bottom of the class in PE that is little short of a miracle. Ok ok, so the sign probably was playing up and its unlikely that I broke the speed limit on my two feet - but anyone can dream!

So often the thing we really want to be is the very thing we are least likely to be. I'd love to play the saxophone, but I'm not really musical. Someone else might love to fly a plane but they're short sighted

For me, one of the great things about the Christian faith is its realism. It tells us that God loves us as we are, rather than as we would like to be. Jesus once told the story of two men praying. One spent the whole time telling God how great he was, and how much better than everyone else. The other lowered his eyes, told God all about how he really was, and asked God to forgive him anyway. It was the second one whose prayer was answered.

If God wants someone to run a race, its unlikely he'll pick me - not without a major refit anyway. I'll leave the serious running to other people. In the meantime I'll quicken my step, just a little, every time I walk under the sign.