Discovery:  It’s nearly impossible to go EXACTLY the speed limit.  Especially for me.

Here’s the back story:  I’m helping lead a study at our church called Starting Point, developed by North Point Community Church in Georgia, which encourages people to be thoughtful about their faith.  I like the class because I find that it has something to offer for everyone, from people who are just testing the waters to see if this Jesus thing is a scam or could be the real deal, to people who accepted Jesus as the son of God when they were 5 and have been walking in faith ever since.

At the end of each week, the lesson offers a challenge to us for the following week, which is somehow related to the lesson.  Next week, we’re reading about God’s law  and discussing why the law isn’t a condition of a relationship with him, but a confirmation of one.

The fun challenge:  To see if we can obey the speed limit to the letter of the law.  To the very number posted, my friends.

As we laughed over how tough this would be, the leader for the week asked us all to try to recall for next weekend when during the week we cracked.

I barely made it out of the parking lot. 

This was not intentional.  I planned to follow exactly.  Really, I did.  But I have such a habit, I am such a  believer in the 55-really-means-58-or-59, that I do it by default.  I know, for example, that on the road leading away from church I drive 48.  And so I just did.  Without even thinking about it.

Less than 4 minutes after I left the building, I laughed aloud when I looked down at my speedometer.  Failed already?

Sometimes life is like that, isn’t it?  Thank goodness for grace.  And a road without speed traps.