No. 49 - 27th August 2017

I was driving over Ashdown Forest and found myself behind a trailer with an old vintage racing car on it. I could see there was a door missing, but I never got to see what sort of condition the rest of it was in. They’re a bit of a special breed these people who collect and restore old cars. In fact, they can get quite addicted to it. There’s nothing they like better than to discover something like a battered old, rare E-Type Jaguar that has been left to rust in someone’s barn and has become a roosting place for chickens. They’ll take it home and spend thousands of hours tracking down or making and replacing every single part of the car. They can’t give up until that old wreck has been completely restored back to its pristine glory and looking just like it did the day it rolled off the factory floor. That’s real, unadulterated passion for you. What some of these enthusiasts are looking for is a car that has won races and been driven by famous people, because those can produce a massive return on the investment of time and money.

When I was a teenager, my father bought a second-hand Ford Popular. It was what we called the ‘sit up and beg’ model and must be one of the most boring cars ever made. I really hated it. I felt embarrassed to be seen driving it. You know those little orange arms that flicked out from the door pillar when you wanted to turn right, well it had those. And when I drove it, I could look down between my feet and see the road passing underneath. Let me tell you, if I ever found that car rotting away in someone’s barn, I wouldn’t dream of restoring it. I would just cover it over and walk away from it as fast as possible.

Well, all this got me thinking about how like a restoration enthusiast God is, and yet, how very different. He doesn’t care that I haven’t won any races or that I’m not beautiful and famous. He doesn’t care how boring I am. He’s like the passionate enthusiast who can’t wait to get down to restoring this old wreck, and He’s prepared to spend decades on the project. Hammering out the dents, grinding away at the rust, filling in the holes, and then painting and polishing until I look like new. In fact, He’s not going to stop working on me until he considers me to be perfect. How very satisfying. As God once promised His people, “I will restore the years that the locusts have eaten”.

Share via email