My son Gilbert was eight years old
and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was
handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home
and give all to "dad." That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do.
Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read
the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his
young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.
Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project
began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply
read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud
the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.
Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A little
lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom). Gilbert had
not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue
Lightning," the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your
own. Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand
and pride in his heart, we headed to the big race. Once there my little one's
pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely
on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint
jobs and sleek body styles made for speed. A few of the boys giggled
as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add
to the humility Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple
of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather
by their side, Gilbert had "mom." As the race began it was done in
elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One
by one the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally it was between Gilbert
and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to
begin, my wide eyed, shy eight year old ask if they could stop the race for
a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped. Gilbert hit his knees
clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled
brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long
minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face and announced, "Okay,
I am ready." As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his
father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within
his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly
great speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before
Tommy's car. Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you"
as the crowd roared in approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with
microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win,
huh, Gilbert?" To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't
be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to
make it so I don't cry when I lose." Children seem to have a wisdom far
beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he didn't ask God to fix
the out come, Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When
Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair, they
had a fathers help." No, he went to his Father for strength. ?
Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race,
to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from
the struggle. We can learn a lot from Gilbert. We too, can seek God's strength
to get through the struggle. ? "I can do everything through Him who
gives me strength." Phillipians 4:13
Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side. Pride,
the human tendency to rely on ones self, comes into direct conflict with faith.
With this child-like faith that Gilbert exhibited, we too can be free to
relax in the assurance of Our Father's loving guidance for our lives. Sincerely
Linda
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