Yesterday was one of those days I’ll carry with me for a long time. I had the chance to attend the 2025 Hot Rod Power Tour with my brother, my dad, and a close friend. It wasn’t just a car show—it was a rolling tribute to horsepower, craftsmanship, and the American dream on four wheels. The sights, the sounds, the smells of burning rubber and polish—it was enough to make any car guy’s heart race.
As we strolled through rows of muscle cars, hot rods, and souped-up classics, we found ourselves lost in conversation about dreams. We pointed out the cars we’d love to own. We imagined what it would be like to hop behind the wheel of a ’69 Camaro or a slammed Chevy C10 and tear down the drag strip.
"Wouldn’t it be nice?"
"How awesome would that be?"
These were the questions we kept tossing back and forth like wrenches across a garage. It was all part of the fun—dreaming a little, letting the imagination idle freely for a while. And I’ll admit it: I was right there with them. I could picture myself dropping the hammer on a quarter-mile strip, the rear tires screaming, the engine roaring like a lion let loose.
But at the end of the day, something unexpected hit me. After a day spent dreaming about what could be, I found myself deeply grateful for what already is.
That’s not to say I wouldn’t love to own a beast of a car or take a crack at drag racing. But truth be told, I like my life just the way it is.
I came home, grabbed my oldest son, heard about his day, and whisked him off to a father-son baseball game—and I felt rich. Not in dollars or chrome or cubic inches, but in things far more lasting.
The Trap of “More”
There’s a dangerous lie that sneaks into our lives: the idea that more is always better. A better car, a bigger house, a faster life. It’s easy to get caught chasing the next shiny object, especially when you’re standing next to 700-horsepower street machines.
But Scripture reminds us of a better path.
"But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it." — 1 Timothy 6:6-7 (NIV)
That verse speaks loud and clear to anyone who's ever felt that itch for more. There’s nothing wrong with admiring craftsmanship or enjoying hobbies—God created us to work, to create, and to enjoy beauty. But when our joy becomes dependent on what we don’t yet have, we drift from the steady ground of gratitude.
Dreams vs. Discontent
It’s important to make a distinction here. Dreaming isn’t the problem. In fact, I’d say it's healthy. Imagining, creating, and setting goals are all part of how God wired us. But when those dreams start to rob us of present joy—when the “what ifs” overshadow the “thank you, Lord”—we’ve crossed a line.
Solomon had everything—wealth, fame, power, and possessions—and still declared:
"Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless." — Ecclesiastes 5:10 (NIV)
That’s a warning, not from a poor man wishing he had more, but from one of the wealthiest men to ever live. His message? More stuff won’t fill the void.
Finding Joy in the Life You Have
As I stood next to my dad, my brother, and my buddy—laughing, dreaming, and swapping stories—I realized that this was the real treasure. The cars were incredible, but the time spent with people I love? That was the part I’d never want to trade.
Contentment doesn’t mean we stop working hard or stop dreaming—it means we choose to see the blessings right in front of us. It means we stop racing for the next thrill long enough to realize that God may have already given us more than we asked for.
"The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance." — Psalm 16:6 (NIV)
If you’ve got people in your life who love you, a roof over your head, and a little time to laugh and reflect—you’re doing better than most. Let’s not let social media or magazines or even a car show convince us that what we have isn’t enough.
Living Slow in a Fast World
Maybe that’s what God teaches us in moments like these—when we’re surrounded by speed and flash, yet find peace in simplicity. Maybe faith isn't about keeping up with the fast lane, but about learning how to live slow and grateful in a world that’s always racing ahead.
Let others burn rubber. Let others chase the wind.
As for me, I’ll take my faith, my family, and a garage that smells like oil and sawdust. And yeah, I’ll still drool over a Chevelle SS from time to time. But I won’t let the dreaming overshadow the gift of today.
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