That's 1 For The Girls

Last Saturday I went absolutely berserk watching a horse race. When I say berserk I mean jumping up and down, cheering and screaming and yelling and leaping for joy with so much abandon that my cat exploded into full fluff and ran into the other room to save herself. No kidding.

I should clarify that I don't really follow horse racing but when I was growing up we used to watch the Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont every year with my Dad. So now, if I'm paying attention when those races roll around, I tune in to watch, and this year was one of the greatest races I've ever seen. This year a filly named Rachel Alexandra, the only girl in the race, took the lead early and showed those boys how it's done. She's the first filly in 85 years to win this race and only the 5th in history to do it.

Here's the race if you want to see what I'm talking about:

Now if you're a guy and you're reading this please don't send me a nasty comment. I'm not saying that girls are better than boys or the same as boys - this isn't a feminist comment at all. To be honest I was rooting as hard for Mine That Bird (the Derby winner who took 2nd place in this race) as I was for Rachel Alexandra. Both were underdogs in one way or another. Nobody ever thought that Mine That Bird would win the Kentucky Derby or that he could pull it off a second time; and a lot of people didn't think Rachel should even be entered in the Preakness because it's a boys' race and she's a girl. So at the beginning of the race I said to Jesus how great it would be if they could come in 1 and 2 and THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED!! That never happens...never. Things never go how I'm hoping they will so when something like this happens I almost can't contain myself. It's a good thing I wasn't watching out in public somewhere...someone could have been killed.

Since Saturday I've been thinking about why I love it so much when the underdogs win. And why do I always root for them even if there's almost no chance they'll win, or when others are against them? I think it's because I feel a lot more like the underdog in this life than like the favorite. Horse races always remind me of King Solomon for some reason, because he started well but finished so badly, and I don't want to be like that. I hope and pray that I run this race with all my heart and cross the finish line to the cheers and exuberance of Jesus Himself. I can't wait for that moment. If I cry at the end of an amazing horse race (which I do) imagine the shape I'll be in right then. It's going to be messy but amazing.