Every few days, without fail, I find myself pulled into a truck stop, standing beside my rig with diesel fueling both tanks. It’s a rhythm I know well. Pull in. Swipe card. Glove up. Fuel up. Repeat. Sometimes I top off the DEF too. It’s not exciting, but it’s necessary. If I don’t fuel up, I don’t move forward.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how that relates to my spiritual life. See, trucking has a way of teaching you things when you least expect it. Hours behind the wheel make plenty of space for reflection, and this week, as I filled up at the Love’s in Klamath Falls, I had this thought: I’m constantly adding fuel just to keep going. And it’s not optional. It’s the bare minimum required to do the job.
But it’s more than that. At Knight Transportation, we don’t just fuel up and go. We track it. We measure it. There’s a fuel bonus tied to your efficiency, and it’s not based on your average MPG like you’d expect. Instead, every single trip has to be broken down and calculated. Say I run from Portland to Reno: 561 loaded miles, 14 empty, 575 total. To meet the company goal of 7.35 MPG, I divide those miles by that number and find that I can only use about 78.2 gallons of fuel for the entire trip.
But that’s just the minimum. If I want to actually hit the bonus threshold, I need to do better than that—so I aim for 7.5 or even 8 MPG when I can. That means no idle time. It means smart cruise control usage, anticipating hills, watching my RPMs. Every decision affects my fuel economy. Every deviation might cost me money.
And here’s the thing: I have to do it. Because that bonus isn’t just extra spending money. It’s what makes the check livable. If I miss it, I might be short on groceries. Or bills. There’s no room for error.
I realized something deep while running these numbers the other day. At work, I jump through hoops to prove my value. I plan, I calculate, I manage every drop of fuel. Because if I don’t perform just right, I lose.
But with God?
It’s not like that at all.
God isn’t watching my MPG. He’s not measuring my performance. He isn’t waiting to see if I earn my grace this week.
In fact, His grace isn’t measured at all. It’s given freely. Lavishly. Recklessly, even.
The contrast couldn’t be more striking. At Knight, everything is metrics. With God, everything is mercy.
One of my favorite verses has always been 2 Corinthians 12:9:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”
And boy, did that hit differently this week.
I was tired. I’d just come off several days at home where I worked myself into the ground. Beekeeping. Fencing. Compost. Chicken runs. Hugelkultur planters. Moving logs and hauling dirt with my son John. By the time I climbed back into the truck, my body was aching. My thumb was infected from a splinter. My shoulders burned. My hands were scratched raw. And there I was, back on the road, calculating fuel stops and delivery windows.
I thought, Man, I’m running on fumes.
And then I remembered: I don’t have to earn God’s grace. I just have to ask for it.
At work, I plan everything so I can get the bonus. At church? At prayer? God just wants me to show up. Just talk to Him. Even when I’m sore. Even when I’m tired. Even when all I have left is a muttered Jesus Prayer between weigh stations.
We’re so conditioned to think our worth is in our performance. Especially in trucking. Get the miles. Get the bonus. Hit the metrics. Stay on time. Never falter.
But God sees things differently.
In Romans 11:6, we read: “And if by grace, then it is no longer of works; otherwise grace is no longer grace.”
Grace isn’t fuel you earn by efficiency. It’s a bottomless well, and the only thing that keeps you from drawing from it is forgetting it’s there.
So I’ve started to think of prayer like a fuel stop. Not because I need to “earn” anything, but because without it, I eventually stall. If I don’t keep that connection open—if I don’t talk to God, reflect, repent, thank, ask—then spiritually I’m just coasting on fumes. And no one coasts for long.
When I fuel up the truck, I watch those numbers climb. When I pray, it isn’t always like that. There’s no digital readout for grace. No indicator light to tell me I’m full. Sometimes it feels like nothing’s happening. But over time? The difference shows. I’m calmer. More grounded. Less reactive. I remember who I am and why I’m doing this in the first place.
And maybe that’s the real bonus. Not something I “earn” at all, but something that flows naturally when I stay close to the One who keeps me moving.
So yeah, I’ll keep doing the math for work. I’ll keep playing the fuel game, making sure my trip numbers hit the target. I’ll keep jumping through hoops so I can make ends meet.
But for my soul? I’ll keep praying. I’ll keep returning to God again and again, not because I’m trying to prove anything—but because I know that He never runs out.
And that, my friends, is the kind of grace no fuel card can buy.
Thank you for reading. I hope you all are staying safe this weekend. If you haven’t already check out the Orthodox trucker podcast both on Spotify and on youtube! New episodes every Tuesday and Friday.
– Orthodox Trucker
Orthodox Trucker 