A Promise

On this Fall morning, my mind is racing as I think of falling leaves, gone-too-soon loved ones, and heart piercing matters. The ups and downs of my emotional landscape render flowing tears more readily accessible.

"Will life ever be the same again?"

I wonder and ponder.

Life as I knew it has become death.
The colored leaves have already fallen.
Loved ones have already exited my known universe.
Heart-wrenching topics have already torpedoed my quiet boat.

And it is hard.
And it is raw.

Missing and weeping and hurting have become familiar gerunds in the grammar of my heart.

Yet (I love this 3-letter word!) . . .

. . . life is here.
. . . life is there.
. . . life is everywhere.

And my heart is uber thankful for life because of an uncommon promise that was once prophesied then became reality:

“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

Isaiah foretold it (Is 7:14).
Matthew quoted it (Mt 1:23).

It was given as a sign.

700 years later, the promise or the foretold sign no longer remained a fuzzy thought for truth-seekers but became a proven fact in a manger, a stable in Bethlehem. History recorded in its annals the sensational news of young teenage Mary who had not been with any man yet gave birth to a baby boy named Jesus.

The angel announced it to nearby shepherds tending their flocks that night, saying:

"Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." (Luke 2:11-12, NIV)

The fulfillment of the above prophecy in the persons of Mary and Jesus at the beginning of this common era unearths gratitude within my breast and bolsters my faith in three ways:

1. I am grateful for conception. The idea that God delights in authoring life in unlikely or even infertile environments heartens me. In the missing and the weeping and the hurting of this dark season, I am invited to see the light of the Creator knitting and impregnating the womb of my quasi disconsolate soul. I am invited to discover and embrace that life is not defined by my losses and trials; rather, life is defined by the Father who conceives and incubates eternal gains and triumphs reserved for anyone who believes in Him. Indeed, God is life. He is here, there, and everywhere.

2. I am grateful for the gift of birth. Labor pains, the crowning, the emerging body, the baby's first cry, everything about childbirth is momentous. I am reminded this morning that God intends for this dreary and woeful season to eventually deliver a "promised son" on my behalf. And this son manifests himself in the restoration The Lord has in store for me. He has promised me day instead of night, laughter instead of tears, singing instead of wailing, dancing instead of mourning. What joy shall fill my heart with such a birth! Indeed, God is my restorer here, there, and everywhere.

3. I am grateful for Immanuel. Not only did Mary conceive and give birth to a son, she was granted the honor of naming her child Immanuel -- God with us. For me, I am truly encouraged this morning to think that The Lord of glory is with me. With. Me. It is mind-blowing. In my loss, I am not alone. In my missing Papi, the Son of God feels abandoned on the Cross. In my tears, Immanuel weeps with me. In my hurting, Jesus is also acquainted with grief. In life or death, health or sickness, plenty or want, acceptance or rejection, Immanuel is ever with me. I. Am. Not. Alone. Not ever alone. He is the Friend who sticks closer than a brother. Indeed, Christ is with me here, there, and everywhere.

Thank You, Lord!
How can I ever thank You enough?

The Success of Trials

What is your picture of success in life? 

Is it wealth, health, and girth? 
Is it the American dream -- the pursuit of happiness? 
Is it to achieve something noteworthy you wish to accomplish? 
Is it to have a life that is picture perfect and the envy of all your friends and neighbors? 

Please, do me a favor and fill in the blank: ____________________________.

Whether you’ve discussed it with someone or not, your picture of personal success in life is the very motor that drives you and guides your every decision. Your picture of success informs your daily habits, your trips to the mall and McDonald’s, your fitness goals or your puzzlement at the very meaning of the word fitness, your work ethic or lack thereof, your spending tendencies or your stinginess, your secret sins or the display of your good deeds. The way you live broadcasts your concept of success to the world.

This morning, would you and I pause and consider this: What is God’s picture of success in this life? Since God’s glorious Son came to earth and lived as a man, is there some insight coming from His life that tells us of His picture of success?

John 19:30 records a quote from the lips of Jesus that speaks volumes to me. 

Picture Jesus on the cross: 

blood-streaked face 

mutilated flesh

puffy eyelids

parched lips

From those very lips, a satisfied smile further creased his face as He said, “It is finished!”

Success! 

Wait a minute. 

Success? 

Where is the commendation, the human recognition, the adulation that would surely accompany the success of any man? Instead of commendation, He was given condemnation. Instead of human recognition, He was given rejection. Instead of adulation, He was served with accusation. Yet, in plain words that have been recorded for everyone to know, He said, “It is finished!”

Success! Indeed, He was and is and always will be successful because of this secret: He said in Luke 23:46, “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.” Have you and I committed our spirit into the hands of the Father? 

On our currency is still inscribed the motto “In God We Trust.” But, would banks, credit card companies, and merchants say of us that we trust in God based on our money management?

What about the devil himself? Should he be allowed to strike us, like he was with Job, could he say that we are a people committed to trusting in God despite the trials and afflictions that are so very present in our lives?

As I think of trials, images of fire and water flood my brain:

Trusting God through Fire        

A cigarette is lit. 

A few puffs of smoke appear and then fade into thin air. 

The cigarette is dumped on the ground; the driver thoughtlessly pulls away. 

Eight hours later, an uncontrollable wildfire causes millions of dollars of damage -- destroyed properties, depleted resources – and more tragically, thousands of lost lives.

Trusting God in Deep Water   

A few raindrops fall on the dusty windshield. 

The drops multiply, intensify, and turn into a flood. 

The car is engulfed by the quickening pace of the water. 

An hour later, an unconscious man is revived just in time to see the bodies of his wife and their four children being taken away to the morgue.

The Success of Trials

Fire and water are dangerous. 

They are dreary, destructive. 

They kill.

Yet, they are divine gifts. They allow us to encounter God in the midst of danger, destruction, and disaster . . . if our eyes are open and our hearts made ready.

Fire and water take many forms in life -- an HIV+ diagnosis, an Ebola outbreak in Dallas, a missed promotion, a discontinued position, an earthquake in Haiti, a tornado in Oklahoma, a drawn-out lawsuit, exorbitant bills. They could be the heart-wrenching news of cancer or the horrific news of a suicide. 

Today is the two-year anniversary of an event which reminds me that fiery trials and fearsome floods know my address and come knocking often: I buried my dad.

A little over two years ago, at the very end of a most difficult week, a text from my sister jolted me – my dad suffered a heart attack and an aneurysm, both of which led to his completely unexpected death later that day. Throughout the drive from Shawnee to Fort Worth, I kept praying that God would wake me up from the horrible nightmare I was having. I simply had a hard time believing that the man who, for 37 years, tirelessly prayed for me, encouraged me, hugged me, kissed my forehead, counseled me . . . would actually die. I was on I-35, just 30 minutes from the hospital, when my brother called to say Papi was snatched away from us but he had convinced the doctor to wait for me to arrive so I could see him first before they took his body to the morgue.

I made it to the hospital. 

My eyes saw his inert body. 

I touched his hair and saw the joyful expression on his face. 

He looked as radiant in death as he did in life. No one who spent more than a minute with my earthly father could ever deny that he was a man madly in love with his Heavenly Father, passionately committed to his wife, sincerely devoted to the spiritual raising of his children, and singularly interested in the well-being of his fellow man. Spiritually speaking, he was the richest, most successful man I have ever met.

Following Papi's departure, other colossal losses have kept me company:

My eldest brother -- abducted and assassinated

My high school friend -- killed by a huge tumor

My brother/friend -- succumbed to cardiac arrest

My cousin's husband -- succumbed to cardiac arrest

My book royalties -- snatched away by an embezzling publisher 

My dear sister -- ravaged by invasive ductal carcinoma triple negative 

My OBU colleague -- shockingly taken from us at the beginning of this semester

My childhood friend -- yet again victimized by the wildly infamous breast cancer

I have shed more tears, my heart has ached so much more in the past two years than I ever could have imagined. Each loss is enormous, a huge bereavement. At one point, God used my wife to text me an encouraging verse from David’s second miktam – Psalm 56:8, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in Your book.”

Friends, that verse teaches us that we do have a solid Rock upon Whom we can stand. If our trials and tears are recorded in God’s book, that means success is guaranteed. Indeed, our trials and tears are useful to teach us, rebuke us, correct us, and train us in righteousness so that we may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. It means that at the end of our rope stands a God who is waiting to guide us, work in us, and transform us completely. You and I are invited to approach His throne of grace with confidence and dare to pass through the fire and water under His watchful eye so we may "be transformed by the [daily] renewing of [our] minds." (Romans 12:2)

My trials have caused me to break down before God. They have given me permission to not try to pull it together. Instead, the Holy Spirit has used them to draw me to simply sit or humbly drop on my knees or meekly lie on my bed or unreservedly drench my pillow as Christ's strength is made perfect in my boatloads of weaknesses. 

He comforts me as He collects my tears in His bottle.

He restores my soul.