Nobody saw it coming. That is the whole point.
On Saturday at Churchill Downs, a bay colt named Golden Tempo lined up with 17 other horses for the 152nd running of the Kentucky Derby. His odds were 23-1. Three quarters of a mile into the race he was sitting in dead last. Nineteenth out of nineteen horses. By every measure the story was already written and Golden Tempo was not in it.
And then something happened.
Guided by jockey José Ortiz, Golden Tempo weaved through the field, charged down the stretch, and overtook the race favorite Renegade in the final moments to win the Kentucky Derby. The crowd erupted. Tears fell. History was made.
Trainer Cherie DeVaux became the first woman in history to train a Kentucky Derby winner. Standing in the winner’s circle with her husband, her sister, her daughter, and her young nephew Maverick in her arms, she wept. When asked what it felt like she said simply: “I’m just glad that I could be a representative of all women everywhere that we can do anything we set our minds to.”
And if that were not enough, José Ortiz edged out his own brother Irad Ortiz Jr., who was riding Renegade, in the final stretch. The brothers exchanged a fist bump after crossing the finish line. Brother against brother. Grace between competitors. A fist bump that said everything words could not.
We sat and watched all of that unfold on a Saturday afternoon and something in us recognized it. Not just as a great race. As a parable.
Because is that not exactly how God works?
He starts with the one nobody is watching. The longshot. The one sitting in last place three quarters through the race of their life. The one the world has already counted out. And then in His timing, not ours, He moves.
Hebrews 12:1 tells us to “run with endurance the race that is set before us.” Not the race we planned. Not the race where we started in front. The race that is set before us. The one with the unexpected turns and the moments of dead last and the stretches where we cannot see how any of it ends well.
Golden Tempo did not know he was making history. He just ran.
Cherie DeVaux did not stand in that barn for years thinking about being the first woman to win the Kentucky Derby. She just trained her horse and trusted the work and showed up every morning before dawn in dusty boots doing what she was called to do.
That is faithfulness. And faithfulness, in God’s economy, always finds its moment.
Micah 6:8 calls us to walk humbly. Not to announce ourselves. Not to demand our moment. To walk humbly and trust the One who numbers our steps. DeVaux walked humbly into that winner’s circle and the moment found her.
And José Ortiz, who had just won the Kentucky Oaks the day before and then the Derby itself, when asked about beating his own brother said: “I want him to win the Derby of course. I know it’s his dream as well.” Not a word of boasting. Just grace for the brother who ran alongside him and came in second.
That is 1 Corinthians 13 with a jockey’s silks on.
We do not always know where we are in the race. We do not always know if we are in last place or closing ground or closer to the finish than we think. But we know Who holds the outcome. We know Who sees what the crowd cannot see. We know that dead last at the three quarter mark is not the final word when God is writing the story.
Golden Tempo. A name that sounds almost like a prayer. A golden rhythm. A pace set by something deeper than odds or expectation.
May we all run like that today.
Lord, You have always chosen the longshot. The last. The overlooked. The one nobody was watching. Remind us today that You see exactly where we are in the race and You are not worried. Teach us to run with endurance, to walk in humility, and to cross every finish line with a fist bump for the ones who ran beside us. And when the moments of history find us, expected or not, may our first words always be Yours. To You be all the glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Where in your life has God surprised you by showing up when you felt like you were in last place? We would love to hear from you in the comments.