Catchfence

It’s funny how the smallest things can change your life when you least expect it. Little did I know eleven years ago the course of my life would be changed forever. I have been a sports fan ever since I was a little girl. Growing up in the Philadelphia area my life revolved around the Eagles, Phillies, Flyers, and Sixers. However, the one sport I never really followed was NASCAR. That is, except for the Daytona 500. My dad went down every year for it so I would watch and root for his favorite driver, Dale Earnhardt. That was the extent of my NASCAR knowledge. And quite frankly, I never really watched the whole race. Sure I would watch the first five laps, but then I would start channel hopping and find a movie or something or maybe take a nap. Sometimes I made it back for the final lap, but not always and I never gave it a second thought.

Things all changed one fateful Saturday afternoon in 1999. My dad came to visit me to see my new apartment. We went out for lunch, but he really wanted to watch qualifying for the Daytona 500. I conceded and we sat down to watch. Driver after driver came out and I was wondering when it was ever going to end. It seemed to go on forever. And then all of a sudden I was paying attention. There was practically a flash across the screen as a rookie lit the track on fire during his qualifying attempt. He was electrifying. I quite simply could not keep my eyes off the car. His time was incredible and blew everyone away. While he did not end up on the pole, he started second on the outside of the front row. His name was Tony Stewart. And thus began my love affair with NASCAR

The following weekend I drove down to my dad’s to watch the race with him and his buddies. I was like a sponge soaking it all in. I had so many questions. What does a yellow stripe mean? What exactly is a restrictor plate? What’s the difference between the Winston Cup and the Busch series? How the heck can they fill up on fuel that quickly when it takes forever to fill up my tank? How does bump drafting work? The race was intoxicating. My new driver was hanging up front all day until car problems led him to finish 28th. It was okay though, because by then I was hooked.

When I got back home I just could not get enough of it. I started watching every single race. That says something considering I was working for the Phillies at the time and baseball season was about to start. I wanted to share my new excitement, but NASCAR did not have an extremely large fan base amongst my Philly friends. Let’s face it, they made fun of me.

My passion for racing grew over the next couple of years. Several items in my wardrobe suddenly had the Home Depot logo on them. I went to my first race and never wanted to watch it on television again. Nothing can compare with the race day experience. I gradually brought some friends around and turned them into racing fans so I was no longer alone. I would get so excited when I would see a driver’s number on a car window that it didn’t even matter that is was an “enemy” driver. Things were changing and NASCAR was getting bigger in Philly.

As NASCAR began to explode all around me several things started to happen in my life. The first is that I had decided to write a novel. I was tired of reading novels about shallow dumb girls. I thought “Hey, I can do better than that.” So I challenged myself to do better. Over the next two years I wrote and wrote and wrote. Writing provided a release for me that I so badly needed. I finally finished the novel and felt extremely accomplished. I tried to get an agent to shop it for me, but that went no where fast. I would not be stopped though. I had new novel ideas bubbling up in me. I was going to write a chick-lit novel about a girl falling in love with NASCAR and subsequently with a driver. It was an untapped market at the time and I thought for sure that if I could get it written I could get it published. Thus began my research. I contacted everyone I could think of. I had made some contacts and things were moving along for me.

On a personal level, I was completely miserable. I was stuck in a job that I hated. I was not getting along with my roommate. I really needed a change. At some point during the summer of 2004 I made a decision. I was going to the Motherland. I had decided to move to Charlotte. Had I ever been there? No. Did I know anyone down there? No. Was I completely out of my mind? Possibly. But, something moved me. I drove down in October to look at two places to live. By the time I left that weekend I had a key to my new home. I would be moving down the day after Thanksgiving.

At the time no one could really believe that I was doing it. And in retrospect it is hard to believe it myself, but I know now that there was a hand guiding me the whole time. It is difficult to describe the feeling that came over me during that time. I was leaving my family, friends, and job security (I may have hated it, but it paid the bills) to move hundreds of miles away. I was fearless and I could not wait to begin my new journey.

I did not have a job lined up, but I had signed up with a NASCAR placement agency. They never did get me an interview, but I had signed up with a regular temp agency. And by Christmas I had a long-term temp position with a Charlotte based company. It was smaller than any company I had every worked for before. They immediately made me feel at home. They created a permanent position for me and within months I had a Charlotte “family”.

As excited as I was to be able to talk racing with so many people at work, something else jumped out at me. It was quite a big adjustment that people were not afraid to talk about church and God so openly in the workplace. It was strange for me. I had grown up in the Northeast going to church every Sunday, but had been estranged from the church for several years. It was not feeling right for me. And goodness knows you did not talk about God at work up in the north. It was a nice and welcome change, but something was still off. There was an aching that I could not explain. Even though I was extremely happy with my new life something was definitely missing.

A month after I started my new job one of the ladies, Jane, had invited me to visit her son’s church where he was the Pastor. I thanked her, but was not sure how I felt about visiting a non-traditional church. It was a half hour away and race season was starting up again so I would think about it. I was pretty sure I was not going to go. Surely I could not miss Daytona that is why I moved down there in the first place. A month when by and I had a gnawing feeling. So one Sunday I got up and drove up I85 and came upon a tiny tiny church that would change me forever.

Now as I said, I grew up in the Northeast. I was used to ginormous cathedrals with large ceilings and an echo when you walked down the aisle. This church was about the size of a house. I walked in and sat down with Jane towards the front. This was extremely uncomfortable. I was used to sitting as far back as possible. When it came time for the reading and sermon I felt a little left out. Everyone else had brought their Bible with them. I did not know to bring mine and to be honest I did not even know where it was.

During the sermon I was rapt. It felt like God was speaking through him to me directly. This was very new to me. Usually during church I would check out mentally and start listing the things I needed to get done. I had actually listened to and heard every word that was said. I had never felt so alive in Church. I could not wait to come back the next week. Something had awakened in me.

The next week I was getting hugs from people who were happy to see me come back. This was completely new to me. I had spent years going to church with the same people and could not tell you one person’s name if you held a gun to my head. Soon I had received a new Bible from the Pastor with my name on it. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. I had started attending Bible studies on Friday nights. Back north I would be going to happy hour at this time. My life had certainly changed. I started planning my life around church on Sundays. If I was going away for the weekend, I had to make it back in time to attend Bible study on Sunday night. I hardly recognized myself.

After a few months, the honeymoon phase was over and while I was still hungering and thirsting for more, I was not really feeling happy with the politics of the church. I had made some of my best friends in Charlotte there, but soon we would be going our separate ways. Luckily, I still had my NASCAR to keep me happy.

For a few months I church shopped. Friends would invite me to visit their churches and I was happy to oblige. I was craving fellowship and wanted to find the right fit. Eventually I did. One Sunday I went to service at a church that I passed every day on my way to work. I immediately felt at home. However, I had promised other people I would still visit their churches. I could not get back to this church fast enough. By then the NASCAR season was over, but it was okay I had found my passion for Sundays again.

I was in a whole new world. My friends and I would regularly talk about God and Christianity at work and at home. I was getting involved at church. And yet I still craved more. I am not sure how it happened, but in discussions at work we came up with the idea of having a Bible study at lunch. It started out very small. There were only four of us, all of different denominations, and we did not really know what to expect. Let’s just say that within a few months we did not have enough seats around the conference table.

Again things in my life started moving. Some things came up and I needed to move back to Philadelphia. I cried at the idea of leaving my church. I cried at the idea of leaving my “family”. I cried at the idea of leaving my Bible study. I had found my new life and I thought for sure I would not find any of this back North. I thought I would be lost again.

It has been a couple of years now and I was right and wrong. I did find a church to worship in. I still have not quite found the “family” that I had in Charlotte. But more importantly, I have been calling into the Bible Studies every week. It is not the same as being there, but the message is still the same. I keep my Bible in my car and everyone knows that on Thursdays I am unavailable for lunch because I will either be in my car or in a conference room on a call. I do not quite have the open conversations at work like I did in Charlotte, but I very often talk openly about my faith and hope that I reach someone. I still get made fun of for watching NASCAR, but I can handle it. They have no idea what they are missing.

Oddly enough, I feel like I am in a déjà vu sitting here watching qualifying for Daytona. I never did finish that second novel, but I am back to writing it again. Although I’ve tailored it as a more Christian-lit novel then NASCAR, you can bet there will be some racing in it. I am unhappy with things in my life again and ready to move back to Charlotte. Due to the economy I do not quite have the luxury of moving down without a job this time. I have been trying to find something for a year with no success. It is extremely frustrating, but I know God has a plan for me. I have been back up north for a reason. I was meant to be around to help some people through some rough times. But, I am ready to go back home. I have faith that He will bring me back when it is time.

My brother will be heading to Afghanistan in March. I have been praying to keep him safe and to ease my worries. Luckily I now have NASCAR to help occupy myself. See how great He is, NASCAR saved me and brought me back to God. And now it is saving me while providing a distraction.

I know God works in mysterious ways, and I know he is most definitely in those cars keeping the drivers safe, but I never would have dreamed in a million years that he would reach out to me through NASCAR.