Today is Monday, May 13th, and that means the start of the Commercial Vehicle Safety Alliance’s International Roadcheck — what every trucker knows as Blitz Week. For the next three days, from May 13th to 15th, inspectors across the U.S., Canada, and Mexico will be pulling trucks into inspection bays and weigh stations for one of the most intense scrutiny events in our profession.
They’ll be checking everything:
Brakes
Lights
Logbooks
Tire pressure
Axle weights
Driver credentials
Load securement
Medical cards
If it’s part of the truck or part of the job, it’s under inspection. And if anything is off — anything — you’re out of service.
Let me put this in perspective: in 2024, nearly 25% of trucks pulled in during Blitz Week were taken off the road. That’s 1 in 4 trucks. Think about that for a second. A quarter of all trucks inspected didn’t meet the safety or compliance standards. And 4.8% of drivers were cited or pulled out of service. Some were arrested. Many were benched for hours, sometimes days. Most of it? Completely preventable.
And yeah, most drivers groan when this time of year rolls around. I get it. It messes with your schedule, your miles, your stress level, your paycheck. But I’ll say it straight: it matters.
Because Blitz Week isn’t just about paperwork. It isn’t just about the DOT. It’s a mirror. A real-time example of what it means to be ready — not just when it’s convenient, but when it counts. When you don’t expect it. When the lights flash and the sign says, “Driver, pull in.”
And that got me thinking.
Blitz Week is a picture of the Last Judgment.
Now I want to be real with you for a minute. I’m not just a trucker. I’m also technically a subdeacon in the Orthodox Church. I was ordained in June of 2021. My wife and I joined the Church on Lazarus Saturday in 2012, and it changed my life. But here’s the truth: I haven’t worn my cassock in two years. I haven’t served behind the altar in probably three.
I miss it. More than I can explain. I miss the quiet before liturgy. I miss the smell of incense. I miss the rhythm of the prayers. I miss chanting the litanies and standing shoulder to shoulder with my priest and the altar servers.
But right now? I live on the road. I’m a long-haul driver. I spend two to three weeks at a time away from home. I try to livestream services when I can. I have the Divine Liturgy saved on my phone and sometimes play it while driving across Nebraska or Utah or wherever I happen to be. But I’m not in the altar. I’m not vested. I’m not fulfilling the duties I was ordained for. And that… that stings.
There are times I feel like I’m failing my calling.
There are times I wonder what my bishop would say if he saw how long it’s been since I served. And I’ll be honest — there are times I feel unworthy to even call myself a subdeacon anymore.
But I also believe this: God sees my heart. He sees the tension. He sees the yearning. He knows I’m doing what I can. And some days, that’s all I can do.
I want to explore real quick the passage from the book of Revelations. Revelations 6:8 actually.
“And behold, a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.” (Revelation 6:8)
The imagery of Revelation is terrifying, beautiful, and meant to awaken us. It’s not just poetic language. It’s a warning. A trumpet blast. And the image of the Four Horsemen? That’s not just end-times symbolism. It’s a reminder that judgment is coming.
Blitz Week, in its own small way, is like a pale shadow of that Day.
You don’t get to reschedule. You don’t get a second chance. When it’s your time to be inspected — that’s it. You’re either ready, or you’re not.
Jesus says it even more clearly in Matthew 25:
“When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.” (Matthew 25:31–33)
That passage hits hard. Because the criteria Christ uses to judge? It’s not lofty theology. It’s practical. Did you feed the hungry? Clothe the naked? Visit the sick? Show mercy?
In trucking terms, we might say:
Did you check your tires? Did you secure your load? Did you run your log legal? Are you ensuring that everybody around you gets home safely? Are you trying to help others out while you’re on the road
The DOT doesn’t care about what you meant to do. It inspects what you actually did. And so does God.
I’ve made mistakes before. I’ve gotten burned. And that’s why I’m so vigilant now.
When I fuel up, I brace the nozzle so it doesn’t pop out. I walk around the truck. I double-check caps. I thump my tires. I slide my tandems and watch the PSI gauge. I check the fifth wheel, then do a tug test. Then I do another tug test after I pull out. I don’t relax until I’ve made both a left turn and a right turn and know that trailer is locked in.
And if a shipper gives me a scale ticket? I hit the CAT scale anyway. Because $15 is nothing compared to being shut down. Not to mention my company pays for the cat scale ticket so why not?
I do these things not because I’m scared — but because I want to be ready.
In the Orthodox Church, we have disciplines too: fasting, confession, prayer, almsgiving. We don’t do them to earn grace. We do them to be prepared. To stay spiritually alert. Because the Bridegroom comes at midnight. And we don’t know when He’ll knock.
“Be watchful. For you do not know the day nor the hour.” (Matthew 25:13)
As a subdeacon, I carry a deep responsibility. I was ordained to serve in the altar. To assist the Priest and Deacon. To prepare the censer, cut the bread, light the candles. And yet most weeks, I’m in a sleeper cab, not behind the iconostasis.
Sometimes I wonder: how can I serve when I’m so far from the Church?
But here’s the truth I keep coming back to: I am serving… Or at least trying to in my own way.
Not in the way I imagined. Not in the vestments. But with my words. With this blog and podcast. With conversations at the fuel island. With the cross around my neck that sparks questions from other drivers.
Every time I pray in the cab. Every time I say the Jesus Prayer as I merge into traffic. Every time I confess my failings quietly in the dark of a rest area.
I am serving.
I am worshiping.
I am trying.
Here’s the part that humbles me:
Even when I fall short, God still blesses me.
I’ve seen His hand so clearly on the road. The time I avoided an accident by inches. The time I made it to a delivery after hours, and they still took me. When I was given my favorite truck back instead of waiting for days in the shop in a truck that barely qualified as livable. When I didn’t think we’d have enough on the paycheck to cover the mortgage, just to find it covered and more. God shows me His love everyday, Even when I don’t deserve it. I know full well that I don’t deserve any of these blessings, but He gives them anyway because God is good.
“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me… and on my load.”
That’s the prayer I say every time I pull onto the highway. And I mean it.
Blitz Week separates the careful from the careless. The ready from the reckless.
Judgment Day will be no different.
And I’ll be honest: I don’t know if I’m ready. I want to be. I try to be. But I stumble. I fall. I get distracted. I live more like a vulgar trucker than a subdeacon some days.
I hope to hear “well done my good and faithful servant” But I’m kind of afraid that I’ll hear “depart from me for I never knew thee”
But I also know this:
God isn’t looking for perfection. He’s looking for repentance. For effort. For humility.
So I keep checking my spiritual tires. I keep inspecting my heart. I keep doing my daily walkarounds with prayer and confession.
Because I want to be ready.
Ready for the weigh station. Ready for the altar. Ready for the Kingdom.
And when that final inspection comes, may the Lord look at me and say:
“You’ve done what you could. And where you failed, My mercy covers you.”
Amen.
Thanks for reading my friends. If you haven’t already check out the Orthodox trucker podcast over on Spotify. I hope you all are doing well stay safe and I’ll see you next time.
– Orthodox Trucker
Orthodox Trucker 