Blog

The hiatus ends. During my lapse I wrote and had accepted for publication several more devotional books. My eighth manuscript is with the publisher now, in the queue for release early in 2026. A friend suggested that I return to blogging as a way of sharing mini devotional messages I text daily to family and friends, who in turn share with them with others.  After several consults with my divine counselor regarding the idea, I’ve decided to give it a try. Keeping my domain active isn’t without cost; either I utilize it or waste the resource that funds it. I’m choosing the former.

So much has happened in this nation and around the world since my last posting. I’ll forego a summary of the “state of the times.” Instead, I’ll begin with today’s message (or what I’ll term, “Meditation”) for practicing disciples and others who wonder what it means to be so identified.

Tuesday Meditation: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; …” Proverbs 3:5 In our present age there is no better advice than this. We have not the wisdom nor the knowledge to make sense of the world’s myriad problems. And our efforts to fix what’s broken prove shallow or fruitless. What we do have in our favor is our faith and its twin, trust. If we can empty our pockets of the doubt that lines them; and seal the opening of our heart so fear and anxiety find no opening, we will position ourselves to grow in the power these two Christian disciplines provide.  Make the affirmation, “I trust you, Jesus.” your constant refrain throughout the day. Whether spoken aloud or as a silent thought, it will bring peace in times of turbulence.

Peace. Joy. Love.

 

Time magazine’s annual issue of the world’s 100 most influential people is out.  I’ve gazed at the cover since it arrived, struck for the first time in a different way by the implication of its major feature. In year’s past I would peruse the edition with minimal interest, looking mainly to see which names I recognized.  Not so this time. This year I was struck by the audacity of what it purported. To select and assign to one hundred people the status of “Most Influential” in the world doesn’t sit well with me anymore. Don’t get me wrong. I in no way disparage the contributions of any of them in their varied fields of art, politics, education, leadership in public and private sectors, religion, humanitarian efforts, etc. No, my resistance this year is to the notion that such a designation is assigned to any human being.  For me, the world’s most influential person was and is Jesus.  No one who has lived or will live, has or will have His influence. For more than two thousand years and continuing, the good news of His gospel influences humanity; and proclaims hope in a fallen world.

The annual edition of the Times would be better grounded in truth if it acknowledged what I believe to be our reality. Human influence in any sphere only goes so far and has only so much lasting effect. These individuals highlighted in this issue are probably sincerely engaged in the work for which they are honored. Nonetheless, individually and collectively, their efforts are limited by one thing: their humanity. Only the will and sovereignty of the Divine One who is Son of Man and Son of God has the power to reverse the issues of the times that try our souls.  I believe He gives guidance and wisdom to those who believe in Him and seek to do their work in honor of Him. That 100 list probably includes many who do. But whatever influence any of them have that is not God directed will fail. Why? The complexities of human endeavors within our varied cultures stymie them and us. You know the culprits.  Who amongst us who depend upon God to draw the breath that keeps us alive has influence needed to bring sense to the senseless?  I opine no one who walks the earth. That moniker applies to only one. His name is Jesus and He resides with His Father over everything that comprises this space we term the world. My take.

Love. Joy. Peace.

 

I’ve finally given myself permission to write as the spirit so leads, which means my original intent to write five to six days a week has taken a back seat to a new season. I’ll blog now when I have something to say that can’t wait any longer to be said, or as is the case to be written. Divine grace has been an undercurrent running through my consciousness this week. From the Tuesday prayer line devotional that dealt with it to another reading this morning titled “Grace Upon Grace,” my understanding of God’s grace is expanding. I’m compelled to share these thoughts because of a sentence in the devotional book, Be Still and Know that held my attention long after I finished the reading.   “…his grace so boundless, that when His Spirit lives in us, even a flat tire can feel like a blessing.” Really! A flat tire a blessing! Not possible.

It took some minutes for me to process this nugget. This is what eventually I gleaned. God’s grace is so all encompassing, so generously given, so evidentiary of His love that irrespective of our circumstances, we need never doubt that it is sufficient. And yes, that includes those times when we’re forced to pulled to the shoulder of the road and call AAA for assistance with that flat tire. After all, without His grace things might be a whole lot worse. But for His grace we could have lost control of the car and caused an accident. But by His grace the stretch of road upon which we were traveling might not have had a shoulder on which we could safely stop the car. By His grace we have the resources to pay for AAA roadside service. By His grace we are only a phone call away from assistance. That grace is the blessing that births joy. And, upon the arrival of whomever God sends to aid us, we are given an opportunity to give testimony to the goodness of the Lord.  An annoyance or even a disaster becomes an opportunity to share the goodness of the Lord.

“Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given,” (John 1:16) Bottom line: don’t sweat the big stuff, the middling stuff, or the little stuff. His grace covers it all. Walk in that grace daily.

Love. Joy. Peace.

Because I’m a firm believer in divine intervention, I’m convinced yesterday’s decision to save my second perspective until today is divinely led. From my “Win” story which I labeled “Good News,” I share thoughts today I can only label “Not So Good News.”  Yesterday and today the editorial cartoonists in the Dallas Morning News featured what I describe as poignant commentaries that speak to the brokenness of the society in which we live.  In the first, four word balloons picture a woman whose captions read, “It’s getting to the point…where I have to ask myself… if it’s irresponsible as a parent…to send my children to school. In the fourth balloon she holds in her hands a newspaper that reads “Another School Shooting.”  Today’s cartoon portrays a man, woman and child we assume represent a family, standing on the banks of a body of water.  They have backpacks on their backs. The word balloon reads, “We can stay in Mexico where there’s unchecked violence, drugs and corruption, or we can cross to the U.S. where there’s unchecked violence, drugs, and corruption.”

Both cartoons not only give us pause but deliver that “Ouch” punch to our consciences. I can’t imagine anyone of reasonable sound mind finding anything good in either of these commentaries. Whether we’re parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, cousins, BFFs, or neighbors, we cringe when we hear the news of yet another school shooting and our eyes water when see the images of the most vulnerable among us being led out of school buildings to be reunited with their families., keenly aware of the ones not in the lines because they remain behind. They are the new statistics.  I did a cursory dive into the Second Amendment and confirmed what I suspected. It has been so reinterpreted by state and federal courts over the years that it bears little resemblance to the wording of the founding fathers. I get that times change, and we make adjustments. What I don’t get is why we support interpretations that create loopholes which result in these mass shootings in places where human beings gather; where our children congregate under the auspices of dedicated educators who are usually victims also.

The irony of immigrants considering which is best – to stay where they are or cross over- is profound. Our track record of being a nation that values life no longer stands untarnished.  In the glare of the times, we stand naked before a world professing truth while living a lie. That’s not good news.

I come from two unrelated perspectives today. I’ll begin with the one we’ll label “Good News.”  Earlier in the month, my pastor, Bryan Carter at Concord Church Dallas, preached a sermon titled “Celebrating Your Wins,” drawing from the twelfth chapter of the Book of Joshua in which the Israelites celebrate their wins by naming the victories God had given them.  At the close of the message, he challenged us to make our own list of God’s acts of faithfulness in our lives. I took the challenge seriously and began my list. It’s an excellent way to increase your awareness of how God works for your good in all aspects of your life. Today, I got to add another win to my list.  I’ll try to keep it short. Week before last I noticed my hot water was lukewarm. After a few days of shivering showers, I solicited my brother-in-law’s help. He discovered my pilot light was blown out. He relit it and for several days all was well; until it wasn’t, and the water was lukewarm again. He relit pilot and agreed I should call a plumber as something was obviously off.  I didn’t recognize it at the time, but the win began at that moment. The friendly lady at the plumbing company said she’d have someone out the next morning. Lonnie arrived bright and early, did his assessment and declared a part was broken and he’d order it. When it came, he’d complete the job. That was yesterday. Today, I inquired of the friendly lady when I might expect the part to be shipped. She sent a text not long thereafter to say it should arrive in 3-4 days.  Refusing to dwell upon lukewarm showers, I left for my hair appointment. Two hours later I arrived back home to discover a box had been delivered. Wait for it! Yes, it was the part Lonnie needed, delivered in one day. A quick call to the friendly lady and within thirty minutes Lonnie pulled up out front. In another 20 minutes, he knocked on the garage door. I opened it and he bade me good-bye with a “Wait thirty minutes or so and you’re good to go.” That’s a win! My ever-faithful Father decided since I wasn’t complaining about lukewarm water but thanking Him for just having running water when so many don’t, He’d speed things up. Celebrate with me. I have hot water! And one more confirmation of my God’s faithfulness. It was a alleluia moment for sure!!!

Let’s hold off until tomorrow for the other perspective. This is long enough.

Love. Joy. Peace.

I’m back. Pleased to announce I finished book #6.  It’s at the publishing company in the queue for review.  Hoping for its release by early Fall.  Many days I’ve wanted to sit and write about the pressing issues of our times, but the Holy Spirit kept me on point. “Finish your book,” it would whisper, and I’d suppress the urge to blog.  My publisher in essence told me to take a break and for me the best break is Peace in His Presence.

The front page of today’s paper tore at my heart. Two horrific tragedies whose commonality was the untimely tap of Death. A twenty-eight-year-old former student of a private Christian school in Tennessee was killed by authorities as she was in the midst of a shooting rampage that killed three school employees and three nine-year-old children. Dozens of immigrants housed in a detention center on the border between the US and Mexico died in a fire some of them supposedly set that grew beyond their ability to contain, and the guards were unwilling to open the doors that would have allowed them to escape the flames.

As spectators to these events so prevalent today that we’ve have grown numb to the “breaking news” banners of them scrolling on our screens, we struggle to understand why they keep occurring. Has violence, especially gun-caused violence and indifference to human suffering become such a norm that the best we can muster is a shrug and a silent prayer?

Surely within our various skill sets and assorted toolboxes are answers and strategies that can positively address and reverse these perverted behaviors. A society that sends and returns men and women to and from far- away planets, and daily invents medicines to cure diseases of every sort seems capable enough. So, if it’s not an issue of capability, what is the stronghold that keeps us locked in this cycle of unprovoked shootings, untimely deaths, vigils, GoFundMe entreaties, days of public mourning, tearful television pleas, and funeral services until the cycle ends and another begins?

Might it be we individually and collectively have forgotten we’re in this thing called life together; that we all travel a road from the womb to the grave; that irrespective of ethnicity, skin tone, address, education, language, religion, gender, age, we are human beings together on this planet. We are responsible for one another. What happens or doesn’t happen to one affects the other.

The God I serve created us in His image. That image is not all that complicated. It is the image of love. Love and respect for each other are the starting points. We’re not there yet. I believe we can move in the direction that will us lead there. With God’s grace and mercy and love, let us begin.

And so, it begins.  Another month of the annual observance of African American History Month; or as some prefer: Black History Month. Whatever your preference, we understand the recognition of the month as the nation’s attempt to reconcile the past with the present in hopes of ensuring a better future for the people “kissed by the sun,” as some unnamed poet has said of those whose hues stretch across the color spectrum. The cover of the weekly Guide in the Dallas Morning News today reads: “A thoughtful look back.” It is juxtaposed next to a picture of a Black boy staring off into the distance.

I wondered as I looked at the cover. Looking back at what exactly? And for what purpose? Our history in this nation has been looked at and dissected as much if not more than frogs in high school biology classrooms across the country.  I mean how much more “looking back” is necessary? With the prevailing impetus within local and state legislatures to rewrite the past of its flaws that account for continuing unaddressed issues of the present, a casual look back seems an empty gesture.

But if the editors are suggesting in a veiled way that looking backward at the history of the people who with their bodies, blood, sweat and tears, unpaid workers, enslaved humans that they were, have yet to know the full meaning of equality, dignity, and opportunity in this nation, then perhaps a look back is another beginning.

Hope springs eternal in the hearts of believers in Jesus Christ.  If another month of looking backwards at the good, the bad, the ugly brings us collectively to confessions of truth and commitment to turn in a new direction, to amend wrongs and ensure level playing fields across every spectrum of society going forward, then okay. I’ll take some time to look back, but not a long time. The hourglass sand ran out already.

Love. Joy. Peace.

I’m probably like many western Christians, especially those of us who live in the United States.  In our self-absorbed way, we limit our thinking, and hence our knowledge of what it means or entails to be a follower of Christ to what transpires on our shores. Recently, I was introduced to “The Voice of the Martyrs, an international organization that tells the stories of what it means to be a practicing Christian in places where Christianity is looked upon with hostility; and either prohibited or restricted. Talk about a divide! Here the practice of our faith is almost effortless. Worship opportunities abound, either in person or virtually. With all the options, a whole segment of the fashion industry has probably declined! Who needs “Sunday clothes” when pjs or loungers suffice? Seriously though, attending church services and participating in the community of faith is “easy- peasy” in the good ole US of A. But not so for our fellow believers in places like Afghanistan, Algeria, Benin, Egypt, Lebanon, Jordan, Southern Mexico, and the Philippines to name a few. Theirs is a daily struggle to survive amidst threats and out right violence directed against them because they are believers in Christ.

Just yesterday, two headlines caught my attention:

“Gunmen burn Catholic priest alive in home” The Rev Isaac Achi was killed in Abuja, NIgeria. According to the article, a second priest escaped with a gunshot wound.

“Church attack kills at least 10.” In the Goma, Congo area, a bomb was set off in a Pentecostal Church, killing the ten and wounding other worshippers who were gathered there. Not often does the main line press pick up these incidents. Yet, they are common occurrences for these people who defy governments, extremists and terrorists by continuing to practice their faith beliefs.

It’s true that in recent years, we’ve had our experiences with violence against religious institutions, including the killings of parishioners and faith leaders. But compared with what they face daily, we are nowhere near that level of challenge in the practice of our faith. Their courage, determination and audacity are to be admired. And perhaps emulated. Maybe there’s more to being a believer than the leisurely practices we embrace. Maybe there is something their experiences can teach us about what it means to be “sold out for the Lord” whether we’re in the pews, sprawled on the sofa or leaning back in our fav armchair. Something to ponder.

Peace. Joy. Love.

I am determined to commit more time to my blog this year. We’re in the middle of the first month so now is as good a moment as any to begin. Today is the national holiday that honors Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was President Obama, I think, who advocated that we mark or celebrate it as a day of service within our communities. His suggestion struck the imagination of many and now it’s considered a National Day of Service in MLK’s honor. A brief letter on the editorial page of my local paper caught my attention this morning. The contributor opined that more than a day of service in his honor, the national holiday ought to be one committed to resecuring the provisions of the voting rights act signed into law by President Lyndon Johnson that have been chipped away over the years by those who oppose it. I agree. In light of the times in which we live, our democracy under attack, ensuring the right of all citizens to vote is crucial. Too many states have enacted laws that impede access to the polls or deny the ballot to citizens for scurrilous reasons.  Community service is needed and worthy but guarding the civil rights of our citizens or preventing blatant efforts to overturn them is even more crucial. Civil rights and civil justice were after all among the hallmarks of Dr King’s social activism.

Peace. Love. Joy.