Carvana

Among the things I like to do least in this world is buying a car. For one, I don’t really care what I drive as long as it gets me to where I need to go. I’m too lazy and mathematically inept to do the necessary research to get the best deal. As a result, I am usually only trying to make a purchase when I absolutely have to, so I end up doing this thing that I hate under duress. (Oh, by the way, did I mention I am a horrible negotiator?) So, when our van’s lease ended in the same month that my car was totaled in an accident (everyone was okay, thank God), I not only needed to get one car, but two cars at the same time. Thankfully, I have no problem asking for help, and I enlisted a good friend who seems to delight in buying cars, especially when he’s not spending his own money.

Within an hour of a brief conversation where I provided my limited parameters and preferences, I was not only receiving listings of cars at nearby dealerships but some guidance on the maximum of what I should be willing to pay. Before I knew it, I was in a staring contest with a salesman, having test driven a car I wanted to buy, and armed with clear instructions from my friend to be ready to walk out if I didn’t get the price that he told me to get. The salesman wouldn’t budge. I shared (per the talking points) that I had some other dealerships to visit, that I was ready to make a deal today if he could be creative, but all I got was the stare and the repeated statement, “Well, we’d really like to earn your business.” At some point, I excused myself to the restroom, texting for advice, and my friend told me to leave and that he was sure they would call me within an hour with better terms. I gave the salesman my number and told him that if he wanted to sell a car today, I hope he’d call, and I left as sweat and anxiety consumed me.

For the next 67 minutes I was in agony. I liked the car. It was a good deal. But I knew I couldn’t go back because then I would have lost. I would have blinked. As I heard every second tick, I wondered why I cared so much. Both me and the salesman wanted the same outcome. The savings I was holding out for was relatively minimal in the grand scheme and I’d likely never see the man again for another 100,000 miles at least. So, what if I blinked? Why was my pride more valuable than the outcome? Just as I grabbed my keys to humble myself before the salesman, my phone rang. “We can make it work.”

As I filled out the paperwork, I couldn’t help but wonder where else in life and leadership my ego might be preventing things from getting off the lot. Where else am I afraid to show weakness or vulnerability - even if it means achieving a mutually shared vision? In my drive with the Lord, why do I keep asking the Lord to lower His price, when He’s already paid the ultimate one for me?

Thankfully, the second car purchase felt a little less high stakes. As we continue down this road called life, let’s make sure that as we search for all the best deals, we aren’t too proud to accept the greatest offer ever made: salvation in Christ.