Imagine having a driving style so unique, so identifiably yours that someone could spot you from a mile away.
Jehu had that.
When he led his insurrection against the kings of Israel and Judah, the watchman at the town of Jezreel recognized him from an incredible distance away. He shouted his report: “The driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he drives furiously!” (2 Kings 9:20).
Well, sort of. The Berean Standard Bible translates that final Hebrew word a little more accurately: “And the charioteer is driving like Jehu son of Nimshi—he is driving like a madman!”
Jehu didn’t drive angrily. He drove like a man who had lost his mind.
I don’t know what that translates to in terms of actual chariot-driving technique—but the watchman sure did. He knew it instinctively—long before he could see Jehu’s appearance or hear his voice, he knew. Only Jehu the son of Nimshi drives like that.
Who else could it be?
* * *
How do you drive your chariot?
Jehu had a reputation for driving his like a man who was no longer in control of his mental faculties.
That’s probably not the reputation you want. But that little detail is a reminder—there are qualities about each of us that make it easy for others to spot us a mile away. It’s not always the things we say or the way we look—more often than not, it’s the way we navigate through life.
The way we drive our chariots.
Peter begged the Church, “as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul, having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by your good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:11-12).
Drive your chariot knowing that you’ll be seen by others—not as a madman, crashing your way from one dumpster fire of a decision to the next, but as someone leaving a trail of good works in your wake. Do so much good that when people who don’t know God try to accuse you of being an evildoer, they actually wind up with a reason to praise God when He arrives on the earth.
* * *
The one thing it’s hard to do in a chariot is drive in obscurity.
You might not be the most famous driver—the one people recognize immediately, instinctively. But you’re going to be noticed. One way or another, you are going to leave an impact on the lives of others. The kind of impact you leave comes down to the kind of driver you are.
There are chariot drivers who make us grateful they passed through our lives, and there are chariot drivers who make us wish they had driven somewhere—anywhere—else.
Jehu’s driving style is a footnote in a much bigger story—but it is a reminder that our actions and reputation travel farther and faster than we ever could.
You have the reins. Where will you drive your chariot?
And, just as importantly, how will you drive on the way there?
Until next time,