In 1973, I live in Southern Indiana, not more than 45 minutes from the site of the Kentucky Derby. I vaguely recall watching the Derby on television that day — the day Secretariat, the most famous, the greatest racehorse of all time wins the first leg of the Triple Crown. I do not remember my young reaction, whether I cheer or cry or look on with vague misgiving. I say misgiving because I am always fearful for the horse when watching a race.
Today, I watch the film SECRETARIAT and cry. I cry twice — when Big Red wins the Derby and again when he takes the Triple Crown by 31 lengths! And I do pray, “Oh God, to have a heart that big for You!” The soaring emotion I feel here is one I feel occasionally in worship, not usually when lifting my arms during song or even while listening to a pastor tell his sermon; but sometimes when alone — which is difficult to come by in today’s modern, locked church buildings — praying in a pew. The tears stream, and I can’t stop them.
Today, my heart feels like it is bursting in my chest. I want to run that fast for You, O Lord. Oh to be a Secretariat!