In January, my friend Jack casually mentioned he’d had an old British sports car tucked away in his barn for years. Long story short, I followed him home and purchased the 1967 Sunbeam Alpine on the spot. Because it was the middle of winter and a huge camper had peacefully hibernated between the Sunbeam and the sunlight, we agreed to wait until spring to drag the car from the barn.
To the untrained eye, the little car could be driven after a good bath and a new battery. But to an experienced restorer, it was merely a collection of parts that needed to be disassembled, replaced, repainted or reupholstered. If it’s metal, it was rusted; if it’s fabric, it had crumbled and if it’s mechanical, it was gummed up. When a car sits for years, even in a protected environment, it deteriorates in unseen ways. Parts meant to slide now stick to one another, fabrics dry-rot and foam rubber turns to powder. Cars are strangely like us: if we keep busy, we actually last longer. When we stop and become sedimentary, stuff starts to deteriorate, weaken and refuse to cooperate.
Now that it’s spring, the Sunbeam illuminates the corner of my garage and I find myself in a dilemma, at a tipping point. The choice isn’t complex, just difficult. I have to determine whether to attempt CPR or perform radical surgery. Do I tear it completely apart and restore it from the ground up, or do I nurse the existing parts back into operation? I’m confident the engine will start and run, but I’m not sure about the electrical system. A new battery caused the taillights to blink at me, but the headlights simply refuse to open their eyes and the starter won’t make a peep… probably stuck from sitting all these years.
Do you see my dilemma? I can begin to gently massage it back to life— patching old wires together, coaxing old systems to breathe again—but will the old dog hunt? Will it yawn and stretch and remember the days of its youth? Or will it groan and creak and limp from the garage like an aged coon hound, gimpy with no will to lift its nose and catch the scent of the open road?
Knowing what needs to be done is easier than having the heart to do it.
The parallels between the Sunbeam and my physical fitness go without saying; however, I also realize my spiritual wellbeing suffers from the same dilemma. The spiritual exercise of reading the Bible, having personal devotions, listening to worshipful music determines how spiritually fit I am. But when I neglect spiritual things—when I fail to pray often and connect the activities of my everyday life to spiritual realities, my spirit-life deteriorates rapidly. Just this week Dr. David Jeremiah said, “When we are left to our natural tendencies we never drift toward holiness.”
Just as the Sunbeam didn’t improve while sitting dormant, but actually deteriorated, so does our spiritual condition. Why not allow the Lord to restore your rusty spirit-life today? Reach out to Him, pray, and establish a regular devotional time. Find outlets for your spiritual energy by serving someone or some organization with no payback in mind…except the spiritual conditioning it affords.
No training seems pleasant at the time. In fact, it seems painful.
But later on it produces a harvest of godliness and peace.
It does that for those who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12:11
This week, take your spirit for more than a Sunday drive: make it your work car.