Under the Hood & Over the Moon

I don’t get it sometimes.

Every time these Matt Maher lyrics hit my ears, I’m gone. I’m talking full-blown, "cry like a baby" territory:

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You Every hour, I need You My one defense, my righteousness Oh God, how I need You

Today was one of those days. Over the past two weeks, I’ve been through a bevy of medical tests. Why? Because when you hit a certain age and start noticing family members, former classmates, and friends struggling with illness—or heading off to the "Great Beyond"—you realize it’s probably time to check under the hood.

So, they ran the gamut. Blood tests. Scans. Prodding. Poking. A few things should require a formal dinner date first. In a nutshell, the medical community has confirmed something groundbreaking:
Yep… I’m fat.

But—and this is the important part—I am apparently the healthiest short, fat, old guy with no joints most doctors have ever met. In hindsight, I’m doing okay.

Actually, I’ve had some very good days lately. The yard has never looked better. The gardens got an early start. All those things I kept promising I’d fix "tomorrow" finally got fixed. Turns out, tomorrow eventually shows up. And when tomorrow becomes today, and you actually do something with it? It feels pretty good.

So there I was, enjoying the fruit of my labor, sitting outside with a cold Zwickel in hand, soaking in the final hours before heading back to school after Easter break... and then the music hit. Matt Maher and his friends found their way into my ears, into my heart, and straight into my tear ducts.

Then came Jamie MacDonald. I thought, My goodness, this girl has some pipes. But more than that, she has a message that cut right through the backyard serenity:

Oh God, I'm desperate Down on my knees Send help from Heaven 'Cause that's what I need Redeem this wreckage Restore my peace because I'm desperate!

That kind of honesty hits differently when you’ve just been reminded of your own mortality by a lab report and a blood pressure cuff. It’s the sudden realization that we aren’t nearly as in control as we think we are.

Then Solomon Ray showed up with Jesus & My Coffee. "Coffee and Jesus" feels like a bulletproof life strategy. The there was Sunny Ray... Honestly, if someone can take the spirit of Miley Cyrus’s The Climb and make it sound inspirational and holy... I’m in. 

Finally, there was Micah Tyler. A dude built like me. Sounds like me. Probably shops in the same "husky section" I do. He reminded me of something I forget way too often:

I would be perfect, if it wasn't for the little ways I fall short every day of my life... But I got this peace inside, 'cause I know that every time I give you failures, and you give me grace.

That line right there? That’ll preach. Because that’s the whole story of being human. We fail. We fall short. We try to "adult." We try to "do Christianity." We try to be worthy of a sacrifice made two millennia ago when our Lord hung on a tree to save mankind.

And every single day, we realize the same thing: We can’t earn it. We never could.

Right when I start thinking I’ve finally got things under control, Matt Maher circles back for the knockout punch: Your grace is enough, Your grace is enough, Your grace is enough for me!

There it is. The reminder. The point isn't that I’m strong, disciplined, healthy, or productive. The point is that His grace is enough. Even for a short, fat, old guy with a garden, a cold beer, a medical chart full of numbers, and a playlist that makes him cry in the backyard.

Especially for a guy like me. Maybe the songs don’t show up when everything is perfect. They show up when we’re tired. When we’re reflective. When we’re reminded that life is fragile and tomorrow isn’t promised.

Through a simple playlist, God whispers the same message again: You’re not perfect. You’re not in control. But you are loved. And My grace is enough for you.

Every hour. Every day. Every breath.