The Gospel According to Lorenzo

For those of you who don't know, my car's name is Lorenzo. (Why you say? Well if you need a reason, it is foreign and nifty. I prefer you just accept the fact that I name inanimate objects.)

In the two and a half years that I have owned Lorenzo, he has had many a thing go awry. To be specific- the alternator, the transmission, the oil pan and gasket, the battery, the radio and all the buttons to go along, the brakes, etc. In short, you name it and Lorenzo has a new one. 

Now I don't know much about cars but I usually know something is wrong when my car stops working on a country road at one o'clock in the morning. (Problem #1 and revised version of problem #2) Sometimes I catch the problem while I'm still in denial of the problem happening. Every visit to the mechanic is pretty much the same. "Hey Tarry, I need an oil change. Oh and by the way, can you maybe poke around in there a bit?" "Why is something wrong?" "Oh not much, it just takes five minutes to start and makes a sound that makes me think that Jesus must be coming back, but all cars do that right?" Tarry looks at me with a blank stare with the occasional blink. Yeah, Tarry and I have great communication like that. (Problem #3-15)

Every time I have the exact same thought pattern throughout the whole process. It usually happen in this order. 

1. I think maybe I should get that checked out. No big. Just a checkup.

2. Dang it. I don't think that Tarry's look is very promising.

3. ARE YOU SERIOUS????? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????

4. Oh shoot-that is a dang lot of money. My parents are not going to be happy. I hope they help me pay for this.

5. That's it. I'm just going to have to become a superhero and fly everywhere instead. It not only saves money, but it is good for the environment and I hear that guys really dig the challenge of getting a girl who can fly. 

Yet my parents always end up being so great about the whole ordeal. Thank goodness Lorenzo is once again all fixed and rarin' to go.

I can't help but wonder at the whole application of this process to our spiritual lives. (Disclaimer: I realize that the process of fixing a car and fixing a person is not even close to the same thing, but there are some parallels. Usually boys like to compare cars to important things, and this is the one exception where I will follow suit.)

Like Lorenzo, I wonder at how many times and how many places we need help as human beings. God's reaction is the always willing and ready mechanic. He understands when we tell him that we have a problem, even if we do not completely understand the terms to tell him. He understands our simple language. When we tell him that we are having trouble starting, he knows that our battery is almost dead. He sees the details of the charges, the smallest electrons taking a vacation, the lack of connection that makes everything else run in perfect harmony. When we say that something is leaking, he knows the exact place our oil pan gasket has rusted over to the point of weathering away a hole in the pan. 

Tarry explained to me the depths of the problems with my poor Lorenzo. Denial at that point was long gone as I took in the reality of the seriousness of the problems that I had just come to understand. In my life, there are days when I come to understand just how deep the problems of the world reach. Sin is so real.  We are rusty and we are failing to start and we are leaking and we are broken and we are disconnected. 

I can't help but think of how he reacts when we come to him with our problems. I'm so thankful he doesn't react like I do-"ARE YOU SERIOUS???? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????" In fact, his reaction is more akin to that of my parents. He understands that something is seriously wrong, he looks at the price of the repairs, and he pays cash out of pocket to fix it, no matter the price. 

Why? Well...Grace. Love. That's why. 

In some corky way, I am reminded of God's grace by my car. I thank God for another reminder. I am always in need of a reality check. GOD GAVE HIS SON FOR MY SINS! He payed the ultimate price to fix me. Understanding the depths of my need for repair, my failure to function, and all of my rust-filled parts, I come to a better understanding of just how amazing God's grace is. There is no good reason why he saved me. No good reason why he paid the price. 

So now I am Lorenzo. I am repaired and running well. God is driving me where he wills me to go and I have never been quite so alive.