Advent Day 5: Does Anyone Care?

Good morning, friend!

Have you ever lived through one of those seasons? You know, the ones when it seems that no matter what you do or say, regardless of how loudly you scream or wail, despite the frantic and panicky SOS signals you send, all you get in return is __________________.

Nada.
Niente.

Blank stares.
"Talk to the hand" responses.

No one cares.
Not a soul seems to heed your cries for help.

I have had my share of such seasons. I know what it is like to feel squeezed by the pressures of invisibility and lovelessness. Yet, as I ponder the message of Advent this morning, I am made aware of a most significant truth:

When in dire straits, it is tempting for me to believe the oft-rehearsed lie that no one cares.

Hmmm.
Is it a lie?
Yup. It is definitely a lie.

Moreover, when a kind soul lends me a helping hand, I mistakenly resent the kindness of such a one seeing it more like a pitiful act of charity.

You may say, "What is so threatening about people in need being offered charity or assistance?"

The more I think about life and people, the more convinced I am that you and I are afraid of two main things -- appearing too weak and being unloved. Despite walls of pride and self-gratification erected to meet those needs, we often find ourselves dissatisfied and despairing. We tend to be a "been there, done that" type of people striving to be so independent that, if we are helped once, we work very hard to prevent ourselves from ever being in that position of weakness again.

While this attitude might bring us earthly success, it goes against the grain of the gospel, which tells us that Christ, the Coming Once, cares for us and loves us deeply. He cares enough to have justified us at Calvary over two thousand years ago, enough to continue offering us daily justification, and enough to be forever the only One who can justify us. Whether caused by the desire to save face, to keep appearances or to practice self-righteousness, the weak/unloved stigma plaguing our hearts has a most depleting impact on us, giving us a load that is much too hard to bear.

And what is this load of which I speak?

I, for one, grow tired from striving to be self-sufficient, self-reliant, self-sustaining, self-fulfilling . . . I am exhausted from feeling weak, ineffective, unheard, inefficient, unsolicited, inadequate . . . I grow weary from feeling unloved, uncared for, unwanted . . .

Where is hope?
To what truth shall I turn?

Today, I am grateful for the hope of Advent that reminds me of One who always hears my cries, knows my sorrows, relates to my predicament, notices my efforts, understands my struggles, wrestles on my behalf, and bandages my wounds. Hope is found in the Coming King who is both strong and loving -- in Him I can be complete.

So, whenever it seems like nobody cares, I am grateful for the reminder to look again and listen closely: Christ cares. Christ loves deeply. He is indeed the Hope of glory, the Comforter of my heart, the sole Satisfier of my soul!

Advent Day 4: The World vs the Word

The first call of Advent is a summons to hope in the Lord, to look with expectant eyes toward the mountains, to watch and wait with bated breath for the coming of Christ. Such a summons is an act of divine grace as it diverts our too easily distracted and frightened eyes from the wiles of this world.

The world says, "Put your hope in spouse, lover, friend, fame, employer, paycheck, entertainment, substance, alcohol, pleasure, etc."
The Word says, "O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with Him is full redemption" (Psalm 130:7, NIV).

The world says, "Look down. Cover your head in shame. You're doomed, you're finished, you're nothing."
The Word says, "I lift my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth" (Psalm 121:1-2, NIV).

The world says, "You are a nobody."

The Word says, "You are God's workmanship." Eph 2:10

The world says, "Take it now."

The Word says, "Wait for the Lord." Ps 27:14

The world says, "You'll die an old maid; you'll rot in your bachelor's pad."

The Word says, "I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion." Hos 2:19

The world says, "I'll do it my way."

The Word says, "I am about my Father's business." Lk 2:49

The world says, "Do all you can to get ahead."

The Word says, "Make every effort to put the concerns of others ahead of yours."

The world says, "Love those who like you; blast those who hate you."

The Word says, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

The world says, "You are entitled to your own opinion."

The Word says, "Listen to The Lord your God and obey His precepts."

The world says, "You will pay dearly for your misdeeds."

The Word says, "Christ has already paid for your sins."

The world says, "Take matters into your own hands; take revenge and hate those who have wronged you."
The Word says, "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord" (Psalm 27:13-14, NIV).

Indeed, it is very gracious of God to call us to hope in Him. With misplaced hopes, we grow overwhelmed, confused, dizzy, worried, disillusioned, embittered, listless, and overstretched. Knowing our tendency to forget and to fret, the Holy Spirit prompted the prophet to pen these words:

"Do you not know? Have you not heard? 

The Lord is the everlasting God, 

the Creator of the ends of the earth. 

He will not grow tired or weary, 

and His understanding no one can fathom. 

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. 

Even youths grow tired and weary, 

and young men stumble and fall; 

but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. 

They will soar on wings like eagles; 

they will run and not grow weary, 

they will walk and not be faint." 

Is 40:28-31, NIV

Today, let us respond to God's gracious invitation to rest and hope in Christ, the coming King! As we do so, we will not merely walk nor run but we will joyfully take flight and soar with hope for Immanuel is with us every step of the way. He alone can satisfy the deepest longings of our hearts. He alone can carry us through the trials and He alone can do more than we can ever dream or imagine. He alone is our hope, our coming Lord!

Advent Day 3: The Eternal "Here"

Good morning, friends, on this third day of Advent!

I am grateful.
I am grateful to be alive.
I am grateful to be able to breathe and smell and taste and talk.

In the midst of the harsh realities of life, the fact that I am alive and aware of my surroundings, of my duties, of my opportunities, of my trials and tears, is enough for my heart to well up in thankfulness and rejoice in the hope of Advent.

The hope of Advent is reflected, albeit dimly, in our natural longing for happiness, joy, acceptance, meaning, and purpose, We all have wishes, desires, dreams, and goals, all of which translate into a hope that is closely linked with waiting.

Waiting, it must be said, is not an easy thing to do. Disappointments, discouragement, and distress are often the words that mark our journeys of patience. While waiting, it is often all too easy for us to become tired and weary as pressures assail us on either side. Deadlines, demands, directions, doubts, and depression tend to bombard us. Our dreams and goals sometimes seem so ludicrous in comparison to the dreary reality of our lives.

Yet the psalmist reminds us that we have reason to hope,

"But now, Lord, what do I look for?

My hope is in You."

Ps 39:7, NIV

The promised Messiah is infinite in understanding, power, and strength -- our hope is in Him. 

He is the Prince who gives us the peace that passes all understanding -- our hope is in Him.

He is also the gentle Shepherd who carries us in His arms -- our hope is in Him.

He is the Wonderful Counselor who tells us what to do -- our hope is in Him.

So, then, where is this Coming One?

Where is He today when bills have gone unpaid for far too long?

Where was He when my brother/friend had a fatal heart attack on his way to the DR?

Where was He when my brother Simon Serleus was abducted and mercilessly murdered?

Where was He when the cancer cells grew at such an alarming rate that my sister's life was curtailed?

Where is He in the midst of the turmoil facing my family for the past too-long-to-categorize-or-quantify season?

Where is He when children are murdered, workers abused, spouses neglected, authorities undermined, infants orphaned, youths raped, pregnant mothers forced to deliver their stillborn babies, and . . .?

He was here.

He has always been here.

He is here.

He is coming here.

He will always be here.

He is the eternal "here" -- Immanuel, God with us!

Some may say that such a hope is bogus or mere wishful thinking.

On the contrary, it is an expectation based on God's wisdom. It is our secure anticipation of the advent of our special gift, our treasure, our desire, our ultimate goal, and our source of joy -- the coming of our Lord.

Yes, Jesus is the blessed Hope of every follower of the gospel!

Advent Day 2: The Hope of Glory

Good morning, friends, on this second day of Advent!

Thank you for taking this journey with me as we prepare our hearts for the celebration of the Nativity, the Incarnation of God on earth.

In God's infinite wisdom, He has placed within each person a natural yearning for something better -- a hope that is vibrant and motivates our seasons of life. The more we read the Bible, the more we learn that this yearning is not merely for something better, but rather for Someone better, the One and only wise God!

In Colossians 1:5, the apostle Paul reminds us that, as we wait for the Lord, God has already stored up for us in heaven the hope that is found in the gospel -- this hope is Jesus, the Light of the World.

"Light of the world,

You stepped down into darkness

Opened my eyes, let me see

Beauty that made this heart adore You

Hope of a life spent with You . . ."

Hope, indeed!

There is so much gracious hope in Advent, a word that simply means "coming" -- the coming of Christ. As believers of the gospel, we understand that at Creation, Christ came and turned darkness into light. Physically speaking, we grasp that Christ also came through His human birth in history. He came not as the political leader and monarch sought after by most Israelites, but as a special King -- the King of kings and the Lord of lords. Old Testament prophecies foretold this fact concerning this King: Jesus, the Word of God, would be made flesh for our hope and our deliverance from the tight grip of our disobedience and rebellion against God.

So, there is hope for us in Advent as we are invited to partake in the expectation, anticipation, and preparation for who Christ is and for what He has done for us. Arriving into the world as fully God and fully man, Jesus came to identify as one of us, as the Son of Man, as a baby born in a manger, and yet also as someone who is altogether different . . .

"Here I am to worship,

Here I am to bow down,

Here I am to say that You're my God.

You're altogether lovely,

Altogether worthy,

Altogether wonderful to me."

Yes. Hope has come for the average Joe or Jill as well as the highest officer in the army. Hope comes to us daily knocking on the door of our hearts to be allowed in to dine and visit and converse and live fully with each and everyone of us.

Hope comes to fill . . .

our grief
our shame
our despair
our sadness
our poverty
our torments
our temptations
our waywardness

                             . . . with the fullness of Christ.

And, glory!

Hope is coming again in great power and presence to bring Christ's Kingdom into completion.

So, friends, Advent gives us cause to rejoice. Christ's coming unearths gratitude and joy from the deepest recesses of our hearts because Jesus is our only hope.

"My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus' blood and righteousness

I dare not trust the sweetest frame

But wholly lean on Jesus' name."

May you and I no longer hope in mere pleasantries, paychecks, and pomp and circumstance!

Instead, may we hope in the grace of Jesus, the Hope of glory!

Advent Day 1: Adventus

Adventus.
A Latin word that translates into our English word "coming."

Advent.
An anglicized form of the above Latin term, Advent denotes the time beginning four Sundays prior to Christmas -- a 4+ week season observed by many Christian worshipers as a period of expectant waiting and mindful preparation for the celebration of the Incarnation of Jesus.

This morning, on this first day of Advent, I am keenly aware of an unmistakable sense of longing and expectation that is within me. It brings memories of days gone by, seasons that I celebrated in the company of long-lost relatives and friends. It brings back to me a haunting melody from my college days, a chant sung by the Biola Chorale in La Mirada, CA:

Veni Creator Spiritus

Come, Holy Spirit, Creator

Mentes tuorum visita

and in our hearts take rest;

imple superna gratia,

Come with supernatural grace

quae tu creasti pectora.

To fill the hearts You have created.

Today, Advent collides with my heart like bad news bumped into the heart of Job, the famous biblical character we have come to associate with severe losses. In spite of the collision, Job found a song to sing:

"Though He slay me, 

yet will I hope in Him . . ."

Job:13-15a

Often, I have been granted words for others . . .

quiet words

tender words

gracious words

beautiful words

encouraging words

words to savor

words to uplift

words to uphold

words to empower

words to strengthen

Yet, for months and weeks and days, such words took a sabbatic leave when it came to my blogging. Interactive media such as Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram allowed others to see a bit of my pain. But it was hard to find the words and even harder to take the time to write a full post.

I pled . . .
I hurt . . .

I wept . . .

I ached . . .

. . . in relative silence!

I knew not really what to say to my heart.

The quietude of my grief was much too loud for me to hear the words I needed.

Like Israel was experiencing over 2,000 years ago, I have felt oppressed and jostled by life's circumstances. Hearts ached, spirits were arid, bodies sagged, and souls were desperate for freedom and newness -- Oh boy, do I relate!

But also like ancient Israel, I am learning to sing the words of the psalmist,

"I wait for the Lord,

my soul waits,

and in His Word I hope."

Ps 130:5, ESV

Hope.

Certainly, hope is the first message of Advent -- a message filled with grace and truth. For this first week of Advent, daily messages on the topic of hope will be posted here. It is an opportunity for you and me to focus on the Savior, the Creator of the world who came, who comes daily, and who will come one final time to fetch us (all those who believe in Jesus) home.

May I learn to hope in the Lord alone, the One and only who can wipe away my tears, who can iron out the wrinkles of my heart, who can turn my mourning into dancing again, who can set my feet on a rock solid foundation today and forever!

Yes, my hope is in the Lord of lords.

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.