Breath

Breath.

Each molecule of air matters.

"Breathe," says the Creator.

Living is a matter of obeying the above command.

How many molecules does it take to measure a life well lived or to build a legacy worth remembering? And yet, whether ill or well, life on earth is evidenced by breath.

God's breath . . .
. . . in us, over us, beside us, through us . . .

Breath in our nostrils . . .
Breath in our lungs . . .
Breath in our brains . . .

Breath . . . somewhere, everywhere, anywhere -- grace!

It is God's grace that grants breath at conception and sustains life from the cradle to the grave. It is the purview of grace that bestows air or life to all individuals for specific amounts of time: a few hours to some babies, 19 years to my cousin, 85 years to my Papi, 56 years to one brother of mine, 36 years to another brother of mine, 95 years to Nelson Mandela, 39 years to my friend . . . and however long each of us has left on this earth.

Each time a person breathes their last, there is a tremendous sense of loss for those left behind. I for one have gone through a litany of questions for each of the lives aforementioned. "What if?" or "Why now?" Yet in the economy of grace, there is no loss -- "To die is gain," (Philippians 1:21b, ESV).

What a counter-cultural way to look at death! The cessation of earthly breath is not dying; it is the continuation of God's breath filling our spiritual lungs, teaching us to truly breathe for eternity.

So breathe, I shall.

For His glory.
For His honor.

I Forget

“Therefore I intend always to remind you of these qualities, 

though you know them and are established in the truth that you have. 

I think it right, as long as I am in this body, 

to stir you up by way of reminder, 

since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, 

as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. 

And I will make every effort 

so that after my departure 

you may be able at any time to recall these things” 

(2 Peter 1:12-15, ESV).

Do you know when death will toll its bell for you?

I know not the day or the hour it will call out to me. However, I do know that I will not be on this earth forever. Hence, I want to make this life count.

Walking with Christ is teaching me daily that I am here for a purpose. I am to "love the Lord my God with all my heart and with all my soul and with all my mind and with all my strength . . . and love my neighbor as myself" (Mark 12:30-31).

Sounds simple?

As I endeavor to do so, I find it challenging.

Scratch that.

I find it . . . I - M - P - O - S - S - I - B - L - E.

It means I am to surrender my heart (affections, desires, passions), my soul (recesses of my deeper self), my mind (intellect, knowledge, thought life), my strength (all my physical faculties) to God and neighbor.

Yeah, right!

I struggle . . .

. . . big time.

I struggle with the concept of surrendering myself completely to loving God and neighbor because I am as memory-challenged as Dory in Finding Nemo.

I forget.

I forget concepts.

I forget beautiful, amazing, time-tested truths that are taught me, shown me, and re-applied to my life on a daily and continual basis.

I forget to be content with food, clothing, and shelter.

I forget to give thanks in all circumstances.

I forget that God supplies all my needs.

I forget that I am held secure.

I forget that I am loved.

I forget whose I am.

I forget.

I forget (be it by nature or nurture) that it is not up to me to right all the wrongs in my world, to defend my case, to promote my agenda, to take the reins of my life, to supply all my needs, to decide how the entire universe should function. I forget that life is jam-packed with opportunities designed to remind me that Grace is sufficient, that Love endures forever, that Faith removes mountains, and that Mercies (sweet and sour) are renewed every day.

I forget that there is One whose eyes range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are committed to Him. I forget that He, indeed, is the lifter of my head, the smoother of my storms, the healer of my wounds, the drier of my tears, the sweetener of my bitter trials, the strengthener of my feeble arms and knees. I forget that there is One who is my help and shield, one in whom my heart is invited to rejoice and sing.

I forget God . . . all too often.

I forget to forget.

And because I forget, I stake out my perceived "rights" and brandish threatening "swords" of my own, insisting on having my way:

-  the right to say anything I want (never mind when free speech dehumanizes others)
-  the right to have some peace and quiet (never mind when it communicates rejection and annoyance to my children)
-  the right to label anyone different from my expectation as "other," "untouchable," "disgusting," "worthless," "untouchable" (never mind that it hinders fellowship)
-  the right to denigrate and slander another individual (never mind the professional, emotional, and relational damages caused by my interference)
-  the right to spend money any way I want (never mind that others go without basic needs)
-  the right to hate and curse those who have wronged me (never mind how it violates God's commands to love and bless my foes)

A life of faith is one of surrendering to the life-giving precepts of Scripture. They are life-giving because they help us grow in knowledge and remind us of our true identity in Christ. In fact, the apostle Peter encourages all believers to “make every effort to supplement [our] faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these qualities are [ours] and are increasing, they keep [us] from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For whoever lacks these qualities is so nearsighted that he is blind, having forgotten that he was cleansed from his former sins” (2 Peter 1:5-9, ESV).

Spiritual amnesia is costly.

It causes us to return to old sinful patterns and follies as a dog returns to its vomit (Proverbs 26:11).
It renders us unproductive, unfruitful, insipid, and inauthentic in our faith sharing because love, the most essential ingredient, wanes without active remembrance.

In essence, surrendering is truly remembering that nothing else matters but love.

-  Surrendering my personal time to my wife, daughters, relatives, friends, neighbors, colleagues, and students screams to them, "Lou loves me."
-  Surrendering my talent(s) to encourage and lift up souls communicates to them, "This guy loves me."
-  Surrendering my treasure to invest in young students in Haiti tells them, "Dr. Lilite loves me."
-  Surrendering my toil to the cause of Christ translates into, "Jesus, I love You!"
-  Surrendering my trials, tempests, temptations, tribulations, torments, transgressions, and triumphs to God expresses my love for my sovereign Lord and Master.

But I still find that I cannot love God and neighbor.

Thankfully, there is grace.

Relying on the sufficiency of Christ, I can let go of all concerns. 

He surrendered on my behalf by becoming a man.
He surrendered on my behalf by being tempted in every way and yet sinned not.
He surrendered on my behalf by dying a sinner's death and rising again as a righteous conqueror.

He surrenders on my behalf today.
He will surrender on my behalf for as long as I have breath.

Will I remember today and tomorrow?
Will you help me remember?

In surrendering today, tomorrow, and the remainder of my life on this earth, may I increasingly grow to love God and to love my neighbor wholeheartedly!

Lord, You are Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides. Please send me wisdom and understanding. Open my eyes, ears, mind, and heart so I can see, hear, receive, and absorb Your truth. Holy Spirit of God, please convict my heart of the poisonous tip of sin's dagger and remind me that it has no power over me because Christ has clothed me with His righteousness. Refresh my memory, O Jesus, that You were tempted in every respect, yet without sin. Help me draw near the throne of grace with confidence and point me to Your Word that I may find grace to help me respond rightly in times of need. In Christ alone I pray. Amen!

A Lesson on Gifts

“For this reason I remind you to

fan into flame the gift of God,

which is in you.”

2 Timothy 1:6, NIV

Braiding hair is a gift. 

I love spending time with my daughters as I work on their hair.

Though at times I wish it didn't take quite as long -- the hairdo below took me a whopping 7 hours to complete . . . yikes! -- for me to ensure the health and appeal of their hair.

Baking is a gift.

I enjoy baking quite a lot.

Yet the person that comes to mind is one of my best friends from college. Anyone and everyone who has ever tasted one of his killer cakes, pies, pastries, and other yummilicious goodies can attest to his giftedness in this area. Every October, despite living in Oklahoma, my daughter and I receive a special cake from his Bay area kitchen in honor of our birthdays. Thank you, dear friend!

Gardening is a gift.

I enjoy getting my hands dirty in the soil.

There is no way to express how grateful I am to be able to turn an area that was jam-packed with weeds, thistles, and rocks into an inviting flower garden or a fragrant herb garden. It is especially satisfying to watch such a transformation take place in the clay-baked Oklahoman soil.

Singing, too, is a gift.

I enjoy singing and have been singing since I exited the womb.
I sang my first professional solo in Port-au-Prince, Haiti as an 11-year old boy.

By the grace of God, I have since earned three degrees in voice, have been teaching singing full time for many years, and continue to be granted opportunities to sing at international events.

The human voice is not earned and it could never be deserved. It is a freewill offering on the part of God, the Giver. As such, singing necessitates a response of gratitude on the part of each recipient. As a gift, the human voice is a precious and fragile object that must be handled with utmost care. 

As I reflect on the above gifts, I see God as a Father who delights in gifting His children for His glory. James 1:17 says it in this manner, "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights" (NIV). And to be sure, there are so many gifts on display in this world:

-  Talking
-  Cooking
-  Thinking
-  Breathing
-  Preaching
-  Running
-  Encouraging

Could we ever list them all?

Absolutely not.

What, then, should we do with these gifts entrusted to our care?

Following are four ways one might consider responding to God’s generosity:

 Be Grateful.

We are invited to thank God who is the Creator and grantor of every good gift. We are grateful to those who have encouraged us along the way. We are grateful to the teachers who seek to shape and mold us. We are grateful to others who receive the offering or service of our gifts. Failure to acknowledge any gift and express appreciation for the Giver’s generosity is not only poor taste and a sign of bad manners, it is borderline barbaric. The only thing worse than that is the choice to grumble about the gift, deeming it unfit, unworthy, or not good enough. So, every gift is placed within us to infuse our hearts with gratitude and to foster a desire to express appreciation to God for it. We can only become proficient if we truly understand and recognize the real value and true source of our gift.

Be Personal.

I have learned that it is extremely important to plan some one-on-one time to get to know the Giver personally. When we receive a present from someone, it means that the person holds us in high esteem. The nice and appropriate thing to do is to spend some time with that person and allow them to mean something to us as well. That personal aspect requires patience to come into the equation which will lead to true intimacy between the Giver and the recipient. In other words, every good gift exists as a gracious invitation to spend time with God in His Word and in His world, all for the spread of His glory and fame.

Be Respectful.

A most important response to God the Giver is respect. We need to aim to esteem both the gift and the Giver. Often, whether by accident or neglect, we simply grab the gift and discard it instead of setting out to value and honor it. At the other end of the spectrum, self-control must be exercised as we use any gift lest it becomes an idol or gets ruined through overuse. I have observed that the more respected the gift becomes, the deeper and more intimate the relationship gets between the Giver and the recipient.

Be Purposeful.

All the aforementioned notions of gratitude, intimacy, and respect will come to naught unless there is a plan or purpose attached to the gift. As stewards of God's generous resources, we are blessed with the charge of planning to use the gift wisely and intentionally because the Giver had a specific purpose in offering it to us. In other words, with each gift comes a sense of telos -- meaning, purpose, or end. We are thus invited to pray and ask the Giver for guidance as we use the gifts lavished on us.

So What?

On this side of heaven, we form a wonderful family of privileged individuals who have all received precious gifts from the Father of heavenly lights. How many of us would say that we follow the pattern described above in handling the most precious resources stored within us? Like most recipients of God's grace, we can all think back on many instances when our response to divine gifts has been found wanting -- often lacking the gratitude, value, respect, and purpose that should accompany them.

For instance, I rarely pause to thank God for the gift of hair braiding. However, this gift graciously affords me time to bond with my daughters -- time that is often spent listening to their hearts, sharing about my failures and successes, and hearing God's Word or bible based stories. Likewise, in my baking or gardening or singing, I often miss out on definite opportunities to value, respect, and find personal meaning in the Giver of my gifts. My foolishness notwithstanding, God still uses these and other gifts to reveal Himself to me and to refine me in His love.

Indeed, these four responses beckon our faculties to employ them for the sake of the gospel and our personal growth. Gratitude ushers us into the presence of the Giver. Value causes us to cherish our Master. Respect strengthens our ultimate obedience to our Lord. Purpose leads us to live a more conscious, God-honoring, and fulfilling life. Together, these four gems graciously represent some wings upon which we take flight, soar, and ultimately land in a place where our giftedness may increasingly "grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" (2 Peter 3:18) -- a place that offers a most delicious foretaste of divine glory.

May we approach every gift of ours with awe and reverence! May God use us and our gifts to bring more lost souls to His way and will! May today be the day that we seek to fan into flame God’s glorious gift of grace! May this hour be the moment when we mourn, lament, and denounce our tendencies to use God's gifts in us according to our own whims instead of yielding to the impulse of God's pleasure and love! May this season be the time when we learn to see more clearly the radiance and glories of the saving cross -- the gift that bridges the chasm between man and God! 

Soli Deo Gloria! 
To God be the glory!

People Matter

Personhood is a term referring to the status of being a person . . . with perceived rights, privileges, responsibilities, and protections. When said notions are challenged or said rights infringed upon, the personhood engine revvs up from within most individuals causing them to stand their ground in any way they can. The following three scenarios may reveal a deeper root:

A 10-year old girl screams, "I'm a person too."
An African-American youth pleads with his eyes, "I'm a person too."
A 45-year old HIV+ patient pitifully croaks after vomiting her minuscule breakfast, "I'm a person too."

Without knowing all the particulars, I can easily guess that the little girl felt either overlooked or belittled for her age. I can also assume that the youth felt discriminated against because of the color of his skin. Likewise, I can advance that the patient was feeling the brunt of shame because of her illness. They were all three bereft of love and grace that the human heart is conditioned to crave and need.

What if I knew more of their stories?
What if I were to say that the 10-year old girl had written an influential article for her local newspaper of such high quality that it was attributed to the mayor?
What if I were to share that the African-American youth, though highly committed to his white buddy, was completely ignored by his friend when other white youths are around?
What if I were to mention that the HIV+ patient was a hardworking wife, a conscientious mom, a faithful friend, but one who has not received a single visit from those she loved and served most?

People matter.

Yet somehow many of us find it all too easy to discard people as used up paper plates. We do not always take the time to acknowledge, recognize, and express gratitude for their contribution to our own betterment.

Today, I want to stop and take stock.
Today, I want to shush the voices of entitlement, ingratitude, pride, self-reliance, and isolation.
Today, I want to thank God every time I remember anyone and everyone, and pray with great joy because of their association with me.

People matter.

Today, I want to stop and take stock.
Today, I want to cease complaining, ranting, venting, grumbling, murmuring about people.
Today, I want to express gratitude to those I encounter and with whom I interact in whatever capacity.

People matter.

Recently, I was reading through the book of Romans when I stumbled upon the last chapter. At first glance, I was disappointed because Romans 16 seemed hardly the climactic ending I was hoping to savor -- a list of names of various individuals.

Admittedly, I thought to myself, "What is the purpose of this chapter?" Then something extraordinary happened:

God showed up!

He revealed to me that people matter.
He taught me that people are provisions of His grace.
He opened my eyes to see that Paul wrote a gratitude list for the contributions of little-known people.

Paul thanked:

-  a servant girl in the church who was a great help to many people
-  fellow workers in Christ Jesus who risked their lives
-  house church gatherings
-  the first convert to Christ
-  one who works very hard for believers in the world
-  relatives who have suffered and been imprisoned for the cause of Christ
-  great pioneers and outstanding workers in the Lord
-  dear friends and loved ones and relatives
-  those who have been tested and approved in Christ
-  those who are in the Lord
-  those chosen in the Lord and spiritual parents

All the above little-known people were thanked and greeted with a holy kiss, a common greeting that stated the importance of each person as a valuable member of the community. In our day, a kind word, a friendly hug, or a warm handshake communicates the same sentiment.

Perhaps, more importantly, grace opens observant and discerning eyes to see prayer as the best opportunity to express how much people matter -- to God, to us, to His creation, and to His kingdom. Grace invites all Christendom to take valuable time to recognize and express appreciation for the contributions that even little-known individuals make to God's kingdom and to personal lives.

So, let us wake up.
Let us see that people matter to God and that they ought to matter to us as well.

Lord, open our eyes to see and thank those who have blessed us -- the grandmother who prayed for our conversion, the behind-the-scenes workers who set up and tear down for worship gatherings, the grade school teacher who exposed our hearts to beauty, the faithful friend who sticks with us through thick and thin, the autistic child whose beaming face radiates Your joy, the unwashed children in the inner cities whose gratitude ministered to us more than our pitiful missionary efforts. Help us remember that people matter so much to You that You sent Jesus to die for the world. Thank You, Lord!

Control

Control.
I want it.

Yet, control belongs to God.

Daily, I see how incredibly arduous it is (was, has been, always will be) for me to surrender -- yield and renounce -- any and all control to God. My word for 2014, SURRENDER, constantly wages war with every fiber of my being. In fact, it reveals an inner struggle that has heretofore lain dormant my entire life -- all I feel that I want is . . . control.

Control.
How my being longs for it!

Left to itself, my heart wants to be in charge of the nature and timing of my every circumstance. It demands that every situation facing me be predictable, tidy, non-intrusive, quantifiable, and neatly packed. It begs to suffer only a one-touch, one-time encounter with any nuisance, annoyance, encumbrance, etc.

This is not to be.
God has a different perspective.
The Father has more beautiful mercies for me.

The call to surrender points me to a Monarch who loves me and who is in control of my circumstances -- every single one of them.

The psalmist says it this way,
"O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me" (Psalm 139:1-5, ESV).

Sufficiently aware of and above every item in my life, only He can fight and conquer the daily struggles I face. My winning the race of life is guaranteed only when I run in Christ's footsteps -- choosing to die to my selfishness and allowing His righteousness to live in me.

But, what a choice!
Even that is impossible for me without God's benevolent grace. I now choose Him because Christ has already made a bold, degrading, and sacrificial choice to die on my behalf, to suffer in my stead, and to yield to the Father -- just so that I might learn to surrender in His glorious surrendering.

So, I'll say yes today.
Yes to everything I am expected to render.

"Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, 

and to God the things that are God's."

Matthew 22:21, ESV

I do not have a pass.
I am not an exception.
I am to give Christ my whole heart.
I am called to give and love and sacrifice like everyone else.
I am to tackle every task, opportunity, interaction, and relationship as though I was doing it to the Master Himself. 

Do in me, O Lord, that which only You can do so that You can do through me all that Your heart desires.

Worry

Worry.

I worry.

Worry has been in my vocabulary since I was a child. The youngest of six, I remember worrying as a kindergartener that my family wouldn’t have enough food to go around. I remember worrying every day in junior high that the four bullies of my class would go beyond the normal name calling, the usual stomach punching, the occasional spitting in the face, and finish me off—leaving me for dead. I remember worrying that high school would simply be a repeat of junior high, if not much worse. I remember worrying that I would end up dying penniless, alone, and despised.

Worry.

I worry.

Worry stems from fear -- a monster that has terrorized me for years. That monster often takes the form of poverty, loneliness, singleness, insignificance, inadequacy, the unknown, death . . . It has tantalized me through automobile accidents, the loss of loved ones, the loss of amazing opportunities in this life, and the like.

Worry.
Should I worry?

As I reflect on my tendency to live in the den of worry and fear, it dawns on me that Christ offers me another choice. He has offered me a ticket to enter a new place where sheer contentment reigns all day, every day—the land of Never mind. Such a habitat inspires me to shun idolatry jealously, to flee temptation earnestly, to guard the path of humble obedience diligently, and to cling to God’s sufficiency  feverishly come rain or shine.

Here is a clear portrait of that special abode:

Never mind about self—Living is all about God first, then others.

Never mind about the feats of others—God's grace is sufficient; all else is lust.

Never mind about lust—It will never satisfy like love can; without love, what remains is lack.

Never mind about lack—There is no such thing, only blessings (those tend to bring about fame).

Never mind about fame—It is here today, flatters one's ego for a short while, and then goes away tomorrow.

Never mind about tomorrow—Today has enough troubles of its own.

And the troubles of today are oh so plentiful! 

There is always someone or something that inspires concern at best and trepidation at worst in my heart. Issues causing me unrest seem to multiply daily and I am often tempted to rush and devise a plan to do away with the object(s) of my worry. Fight or flight being the name of the game, I lie to myself thinking that I could either conquer my fear in my own strength or that I could outrun the hounding beast.

The truth of God's Word suggests a course that is altogether different:

Never mind . . . 
No fretting . . .
No fearing . . .

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble.

That is why we are not afraid even when the earth quakes

or the mountains topple into the depths of the sea."

Psalm 46:1-2, ESV 

I need not worry.

I need not fear.

I need not lose sleep over circumstances outside of my control or choice.

Grace invites me to worship instead—I need only be content, grateful, humble, and receptive because God is sovereign and supplies richly. In fact, "Through Christ, God has blessed [me] with every spiritual blessing that heaven has to offer" (Ephesians 1:3, ESV). 

That is why I now aim to live in the land of Never mind. I have learned that my worrying will supply me with neither shelter nor clothing; it will neither diminish nor eradicate the troubles I face. It certainly cannot add a single minute to my life. 

So, today, I say to one and all: 

Come now. 
Exit the den of worry and fear.
Come to the land of Nevermind with me.

Therein you will find the secret to contentment.

Lord, I offer You my exhaustion. All my striving, fretting, planning, worrying, manipulating, or rearranging achieves one thing only -- bringing my heart to the realization that ultimate peace is found in relinquishing all control to You.

I offer You my heart. All my running, wandering, leaving, gallivanting, roaming, cruising, sailing, straying, stumbling, walking away from You accomplishes one feat only -- bringing my mind to the conclusion that belief in You, the One sent from the Father, is the only salve for my bleeding soul. I need You and You alone to satisfy me and purge the poison of worry out of me. May I quit worrying and commence worshiping You, O Christ! Amen.