On New Year’s Eve, on my way to work, my morning was fitting the 2020 mold perfectly.

Traffic was horrible even though many people had the day off.

I hadn’t had breakfast yet, despite being up for a few hours.

I was running later than I wanted to be, which would likely mean staying later at work to get those hours knocked out.

Finally, as I came through the base gate and showed my ID card, I fumbled trying to put it back in its cellphone case sleeve, and it fell somewhere in my car.

I pulled over and searched for a few minutes, but the card was nowhere to be found. I even wondered if maybe there was a hole in the floor I didn’t know about, under some fabric or a mat.

Then I took a long look at the plastic panel between the front seats of my car, where the parking break is located. There’s a small, mostly covered, slot for the adjustable parking break handle, and although it looked like a you’d need a one-in-a-million shot, you could probably slide an ID card into that tiny groove.

I shone light into the groove and–of course–saw the white plastic of my ID card lurking in the inaccessible depths.

The ID card I would need to even sign in on my computer at work.

The ID card that couldn’t be replaced easily, let alone on a holiday.

The panel is held in place by ratchet bolts on both sides, and it seemed like I would have to remove the front seats if I wanted to gain access.

I drove to the store on base, complaining to my wife on the phone, trying to think of options or tools that might help me get the thing free. Purchase (and breakfast) in hand, I drove to work, thinking that at least I could be at work, on the clock, while I sorted this dilemma out.

There’s a panoramic ocean view on the way to my office, as you drive between the base golf course and the flight line. I remember as a young Airman a few years ago (–ok, several years–OK two decades) looking out at the waves and coming to a crucial realization:

The problems occupying and overwhelming my mind on that particular day wouldn’t even matter or be remembered in a week or two.

New Year’s Eve was no different. I would probably be able to get my ID out of its prison. If not, it would suck, but I would be able to get a replacement in a few days… and my Retired ID would let me get on base and do all my usual activities without hassle.

Actually, that day was different in a way…

A bright rainbow filled the sky to the northwest. I saw it when I left for work, and I saw it again as I enjoyed this vantage point with the beach filling the horizon.

Biblically, of course, the rainbow calls to mind God’s promise of mercy and His faithfulness—a reminder I no doubt needed given the frustrations about my ID.

I prayed and thanked God for the many good things I have in my favor. I have a great job working for an excellent company that allows me to live on this beautiful island. I am healthy and life is pretty stable. My grumpy attitude is unfounded when I take stock of the blessings in my life.

“God,” I said, forcing my heart to admit what my head knew was true, “I know You’ve blessed me all along the way.”

A flash of inspiration hit–the thought of “there’s a song in that phrase.” I started playing with the words and melody as I made my way to work, and jotted down the details for later tweaking.

And the ID card?

A strip of duct tape on the end of a flattened straw fished my ID card out of the deep crevasse with almost anticlimactic lack of effort.

Your hand holds me, I know You’ve told me
You will never leave, never forsake me
Your hand of blessing, it’s overflowing
Still I’m struggling when things don’t go my way

Your hand is comfort on my shoulder
I know You’re with me in my darkest days
When I’ve got no one, Your hand still holds on
God, help me stop looking around and seek Your face
God, help me stop running around
And run straight into Your embrace

How can I say that I trust You, then challenge what You do?
How can I doubt You will rescue after all You’ve brought me through?

When I can’t see it, can’t understand it
Still I know I can say by faith
All I needed, Your hand provided
Lord, You bless me all along the way

When I’ve wandered, when I’ve squandered
Every precious gift of mercy that You gave
You still sustained me on this journey
Yeah, You bless me all along the way

We played it the first Sunday of the new year at our worship service. Forgive us in advance for the sound “quality” of the livestream, then jump to the 15 minute mark to hear “All Along the Way.”