It's Good, Now

 Last week was the time for my annual physical checkup.  It's the time when I'm poked, questioned, looked over, and generally checked out.  I don't particularly enjoy these annual visits, but they are necessary since I also take medications that I fully believe have kept me alive to this day, and I must see a provider at least once a year to have those medications renewed, modified, or discontinued...depending on my specific needs.

One of the questions my provider asked me was in general how things were going.  My response to her was, “It's good, now.”  I didn't think much of that response until I left the clinic a little later.  I went out into the cool spring sunny morning and thought back to that short response.  There was a moment when I stopped beside my pickup, not getting in, and just savored life for a moment as it pertained to that response.  “It's good, now.”

Of course, in no way to I wish to hint that life hasn't been good before now.  It has.  However, there's something about this stage of life that is just, well, special.  Yes, I have aches and pains I didn't have some years ago.  Yes, I have to take medications to keep my blood pressure and other aspects of my physical self in line.  Yes, I no longer do some of the things I used to do.  My physical limitations are many more than they used to be.  And I know I have just a limited time left in this body, regardless of the medications and checkups.

But there are also those other things that make life at this stage worth living.  I have great flexibility regarding my work hours.  Or, I could choose at any time to not work at all and be fully retired.  I am mobile.  I can drive a vehicle.  I can walk, and even run a bit if needed.  My mind seems to be working well.  The miracle of lens implants has enabled me to continue seeing clearly.  It's good, now.

More than all of that, however, are some of the more intangibles.  A wife who loves me unconditionally.  Grand kids who I can watch grow and develop into the next crop of leaders and doers.  A church family that I adore.  A walk in the park.  Visiting the in-laws.  Friends on social media.  Emails to and from childhood friends.  Sons and daughters-in-law who are greatly loved and love in return.

Most of all, there is a God who loves me.  A God who has taken away all of my spiritual filth and placed it upon Himself.  A God who upholds the universe by the word of his power.  A God who shows me His awesomeness, patience, and grace daily.  A God who is gently but surely bringing me toward Himself day by day...and preparing me for that day.  A God whose faithfulness is constant and never-ending.  It's good, now.

Earlier last week, I got a copy of Carrie Underwood's new CD, My Savior.  On this recording, she sings twelve of the old hymns, including Amazing Grace, Great is They Faithfulness, Victory in Jesus, Softly and Tenderly, and others.  By the way, if you don't happen to know Ms. Underwood's life story, check it out.

I put the CD into the player in my pickup the day I got it, fully intending to listen to it once, then go back to the FM station I normally listen to…the local public radio station.  At the end of the first time through, I did pull the CD from the player.  NPR news was on when I did that.  I listened for about 10 minutes to the news, then suddenly realized I was tired of hearing the news.  I put the CD back on and have kept it on, letting it recycle time and again.  That CD has been my constant pickup companion for over a week, playing over and over, probably 20 times or more.

There is something cathartic about those old hymns on that CD.  There is something very attractive about listening to those statements of faith, grace, and forgiveness on that CD.  There is something about that CD and about Ms. Underwood’s singing that gently tells me, “It’s good, now,” with each song.

May God bless you this day, such that you can also say, even with all that is going on in your life…”It’s good, now.”