Tag: celebration

I Thank God for Family (I Thank God For… Pt. 4)

By Ife J. Ibitayo

For Part 1: “I Thank God for Gratitude”. For Part 2: “I Thank God for His Promises”. And for Part 3: “I Thank God for the Memories”.

Family is a complicated word. When we think of gratitude, the furthest people from many of our minds is our family. Even in my own life, some of my deepest wounds have come from my parents and siblings. But family is special to God because that is who He is.

An Old Family

When God said, “It is not good for man to be alone. I will make him a helper [counterpart] suitable for him” (Genesis 2:18), He created the second family in all of existence. God was never alone. Since eternity past, He’s always been Father, Son, and Spirit—the Trinity. And that is why Jesus spends His time on earth calling God His Heavenly Father.

The Father loves the Son (John 5:20), and the Son pleases the Father (John 8:29). Their relationship with one another—along with the Holy Spirit, is unparalleled, and this is the type of relationship God calls us to enter into with our earthly family.

A New Family

For many reasons, our earthly family may not be our blood relatives. Due to trauma or other unfortunate life circumstances, we may not have spent Thanksgiving with anyone who shares our last name. But the beautiful thing about the Christian concept of family is how expansive it is.

Through Christ’s death on the cross, He inaugurated a new type of family, one not bound by the blood of our ancestors but the blood of our risen Savior. In the book of Galatians, Apostle Paul says, “In Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith…There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26, 28). So Christ connects us believers in a way that transcends gender, ethnicity, and even ancestry. And through Him we are forever family.

Conclusion

In the past decade, Friendsgivings have been on the rise. One of the most intimate family moments of the year has begun to be shared with close friends. While some lament the dissolvement of family traditions, I believe this phenomenon may be a good thing. The root is connection, whether by blood or by faith, and as we transition into the Christmas season, we can be grateful we have our tribe to celebrate with.

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is For brethren to dwell together in unity!”
(Psalm 133:1)

A Goodbye Birthday

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Late last week I received an early birthday present from my parents. Reading their kind note interrupted my whirling dervish of a life. It was like someone tapped me on the shoulder in the middle of my juggling routine. The ball of quitting my job, the ball of securing my new apartment, the ball of shipping my car, the ball of moving out of my apartment, and many others came crashing to the ground as I remembered: “Oh, yeah, my birthday is next Monday, isn’t it?”

Goodbye Engineering

I’ve been struggling to unravel the complex web of emotions tangled up in my heart. Last Friday, I handed in my badge, laptop, and all the other things I’d accumulated over the last three years working at Aurora Flight Sciences. As I sat in the lobby waiting for my Uber to arrive, I felt like a spinning gear that’d been violently disconnected from the rest of the train. I was still revved up in my mind, but I was accomplishing nothing. That day I realized that I am no longer an engineer, and I may never be one again.

Goodbye Friends

I also shared many, many, many meals with loved ones in the area. Each meal was a bittersweet mix of joy and sorrow. As I sat on my air mattress hours before my friends and I went out to celebrate one last time, I wondered how quickly they will move on without me. Will I be able to do the same? Will I carry them in my heart, or will our love and laughs be covered by the sands of time? I carried this emotional baggage with me as I flew home to celebrate the 4th of July with my family.

Conclusion

A rough paraphrase of Matthew 11:28 (based on the Greek) is, “Come to me all you who are worn out and loaded down, and I will give you a much-needed break.” Whenever I find myself wallowing in my thoughts—critical of the past and pensive about the future, I know I need a break. I need to go to the movies, stop counting calories, and hit the snooze button a couple extra times. I need to put down my unfinished pile of work and pick up my unfinished pile of video games. I need to stop running and start resting. That’s why Jesus says I must take “His yoke upon me and learn from Him” (Matthew 11:29). I can’t take up His yoke unless I let go of my own.

So last week I finally gave myself permission to rev down, unwind, and relax. I played the games, watched the shows, and shopped the stores. As is true for all of us, life goes on, new challenges await, and the journey isn’t over. So this birthday, I don’t just whisper a tearful goodbye but also a hopeful, hesitant hello.

“To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plan and a time to uproot.”

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)

Protests and Celebration

By Ife J. Ibitayo

The title of an NBC article well-captures the polarizing nature of the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling last week: “Protests and celebrations as Supreme Court Overturns Roe v. Wade”. For many, this ruling marks the culmination of decades of faith, prayer, and activism. And the hope that bubbles up from this decision serves as an encouraging signpost for the future. But for others, this marks the beginning of the end. A generation of progress has come to a grinding halt, and other women’s rights may be on the chopping block in the years–or even months–to come.

Abortion is a deeply personal issue for most of us. Many who are pro-life ask: “Who’s going to speak up for the unborn? Who, after having carried a beloved being to term, can stand aside while millions of other precious children are slaughtered wholesale?” Yet on the other side of the fence, many who are pro-choice ask: “Why do I not get to choose what I do with my body and my life? Why must I sacrifice everything for something to which I owe nothing?” Because of how intimate this issue is, I struggle to dialogue with others who disagree with me on this topic.

Celebration

I believe that life is sacred from conception. This isn’t just a Biblical principal I accept, it’s a truth that resonates viscerally in my bones. I’ve served with children at summer camps and YMCA ever since I was a teenager. I donate to America World Adoption Agency every month because I deeply desire for children to be raised by loving parents. I also intend to adopt someday myself.

The more time I spend with children, the more I realize that they can touch my heart at younger and younger ages. I’ve had stimulating conversations with my kindergarten age nieces and nephews. I played games with my little brother when he was still a toddler. I still remember the intimate stories my mother told me of her unique pregnancy experiences carrying my siblings and I to term. And so I rejoice at the overturning of Roe v. Wade.

Protest

Yet I’m also beginning to understand how often the rights of women have been nullified in the name of “the greater good.” It would be easy to site stats and statistics; however, there is one historical fact that rocks me: Women were only granted the right to vote in the 1920s. There are nearly 100,000 Americans alive today who were born during a time when half of all US citizens were disenfranchised. And this disenfranchisement continues today. A plethora of systemic issues prevent women from speaking up and demonizes them when they do. Add on top of that the loss of the right to choose whom they birth with their bodies and when they start their families, and I can see why their newfound situation hurts grievously.

Conclusion

Many reading this article may have skimmed over half of it. Or they may have read it all intently with a “Yes, but” on the tip of their tongues. But the point of this piece is not to ignite another argument. We already have enough of those blasting on social media and the nightly news. I’m trying my best to understand, to let others know I hear them and I’m listening, even if I don’t understand them as well as I wish I could. Because we must build more bridges to one another, or we risk burning the whole house down.

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”

(James 1:19)

A Black Son’s Juneteenth

By Ife J. Ibitayo

I’ve been black ever since I was born. This may be obvious to you, but it wasn’t to me. I was born in the suburbs of deeply-black Detroit. Then I moved to racially diverse San Jose. Then I wrapped up my childhood in Mission, Texas, which is 80% Hispanic. I never experienced brazen racism or saw Confederate flag-waving white supremacists. Microaggressions and “can I touch your hair?” were the extent of the indignities I lived through.

So I never understood my Dad’s rules: If you wear a hoodie, the hood must be down. If you’re wearing a fitted, it must face forward. Never pocket anything in the grocery store even if you intend to pay for it. And always keep your receipts.  No Kobe earrings for my older brother. No Iverson cornrows for me. And in the midst of these perplexing rules, I remained relatively cocooned from the complex web of racial interactions that tangled around me.

Divided

But then Michael Brown—a teenager less than a year older than me—was shot in Ferguson, Missouri. And less than two years later, Donald Trump was elected president of the United States. With these jarring cognitive blows, I finally began to realize the United States of America was not as united as I once believed. And I began to understand my dad’s deep-seated anguish and frustration with our country.

Black people in the United States have always lived divided lives, torn between the high ideals America stands for and the disappointing reality our nation has fallen into. America decried racism in Nazi Germany while embracing it on our own soil. America lauded Gandhi overseas but assassinated King back home. America opposed apartheid as early as the 1940s yet supported Jim Crow until the 1960s.

United

I still remember sitting with my dad a few years back, overcome by my newfound jadedness. I shared my grievances with him and expected him to say, “Son, welcome to the table.” But rather, he told me he was still proud to be an American. The United States is still the nation my father dreamed of coming to from his youth. The United States is still the nation where my father proved that blood, sweat, tears and an unremitting hunger for success can open nearly every door and shatter countless glass ceilings. And this hope, this pride is what he’s passed onto me.

So as a Juneteenth Father’s Day approaches, I celebrate all the black fathers who refused to give into cynicism and despair. I celebrate all the black fathers who stuck around, gritted their teeth, and refused to give up or give in. I celebrate all of the black fathers who poured themselves out for their nations, their companies, and their families even when no one gave them an ounce of appreciation. And most of all, I celebrate my own father. I love you, Dad.

How to Be a Happy Creature of Habit

Ife J. Ibitayo

I am a happy creature of habit. Every morning, I wake up at 7 AM, brush my teeth and change into my work clothes. I head into the kitchen and grab a fruit cup, two cheese sticks, two granola bars, and a glass of juice. I spend thirty minutes reading my Bible, then dive into work. My patterns continue throughout the day. I used to joke that if a stalker were trying to peg me down, they’d be finished in a day.

Yet all of us are slaves to our habits. We just have to have our Starbucks latte and scroll through Instagram as we ride the train to work. Or we have to eat out for lunch because we just don’t have enough time in the morning to make something healthy. Or we have to binge scary Netflix movies before we go to sleep each night because that’s the only way we can relax (still don’t quite understand that mindset). When anywhere from half to three-fourths of our actions each day are habit driven, the habits we form are very important indeed.

But how do we change our habits when we are our habits?

Finding a Vision

The first step is laying hold of a vision. The Apostle Paul once said of believers, “We all, with unveiled faces, looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18a). We innately become what we fix our eyes on. We have to be energized by a goal, an end destination that is worth the high price of change.

Starting Small

Secondly, start small. For many of us, when we read an article like this, we may be tempted to go vegan, finish our magnum opus, and become the perfect spouse, parent, and employee all by next week. But drastic, unsustainable change never lasts. Someone once said, “Greatness is not composed of one big act but a thousand little ones.” When we commit to eating out one less time a week, or writing one page of that novel, or saying, “I love you” as soon as we wake up, we are setting ourselves up for future greatness, one tiny habit change at a time.

Celebrating Victories

Lastly, celebrate the victories, both big and small. I especially struggle with this. I tend to see each hill I climb as a fresh vantage point to start eyeing the next mountaintop. But science shows that the act of celebrating reduces stress and increases our productivity. Patting ourselves on the back for following through with our commitments makes it more likely for us to keep them long term.

Conclusion

Almost all of us have bad habits that we tolerate in our lives. But life was never meant to be tolerated; it’s meant to be lived. When we find the right goal, get off to a manageable start, and celebrate the progress we make, we’ll be just that much closer to the fullness of being God has called us to.

“I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.”

(Ecclesiastes 3:12)

Remembrance

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Millions of Americans will celebrate the Fourth of July today. Festive parades in the morning, sizzling barbecues in the afternoon, and booming fireworks in the evening commemorate this historic event. These traditions remind us of that fateful day in 1776 when the Declaration of Independence was signed, and the course that liberated our nation bounded into motion.

As I reflected on the history of our nation, the history of another came to mind. Thousands of years ago, the Jewish race were also oppressed by a foreign nation: Egypt. Through a series of miraculous signs and wonders, God set the Jews free, and He charged them with annually celebrating the Passover to commemorate their Independence Day.

These distinct holidays serve the same purpose, instilling a culture of remembrance amongst their respective nations. However, with the hustle and bustle of the daily grind, it can be easy to gloss over these seasons of celebration. But remembrance is more than a luxury; it’s essential.

Remembrance Triggers Perspective

On the night of the first Passover, the LORD told Moses, “‘[W]hen your children ask you, “What does this ceremony mean to you?” then tell them, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when He struck down the Egyptians”‘” (Exodus 12:26-27 NIV). Just as the weighty significance of the Passover might be lost to some modern-day Jews, the gravitas of Independence Day can be drowned out by a shower of flashy festivities and good gravy. As Americans, we often take for granted our freedom of speech, press, religion, and many others. These freedoms were not given but seized on a bloody battlefield in a harrowing war.

Remembrance Kindles Gratitude

God often described the promised land He was leading His people into as a land “flowing with milk and honey”. In the book of Deuteronomy, Moses refers to it as a wonderland of gushing springs, ripe pomegranates, and decadent honey (Deuteronomy 8:7-8). But something about widespread abundance tends to produce national amnesia (Deuteronomy 8:11-14).

Wealthy nations tend to thank their booming economies, vibrant population, and innovative policies for their success. They forget these are the products of their astute forefathers and the gracious God who orchestrated it all.

Remembrance Sparks Joy

In the book of 2 Chronicles, King Hezekiah reinstates the celebration of Passover, which through a string of ungodly kings and rampant idolatry had fallen by the wayside. 2 Chronicles 30:25-26 says, “The entire assembly of Judah rejoiced…for since the days of Solomon son of David king of Israel there had been nothing like this in Jerusalem.” King Solomon’s reign ended around 927 BC, and King Hezekiah’s did not begin until 727 BC. So the Jewish people denied themselves this season of celebration for two hundred years!

We too can get so caught up in the business of life and worries about tomorrow that we forget to stop, drop, and relax.  King Solomon himself said there was “a time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to be sad and a time to dance” (Ecclesiastes 3:4 NIV).

 I’m not minimizing the tragedies we are living through this year. I know a pandemic is raging and racial tensions are nearing their boiling point. But our country has also survived another year in spite of these stressors. This alone is reason enough to celebrate.

Conclusion

A spirit of remembrance is the broth that a worthwhile life marinates in. We must allow the glory of the past to sink into the meat of today. May we remember how God has blessed America, and from my family to yours, have a Happy Fourth of July!

“Then he said to them, ‘Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.'”

(Nehemiah 8:10)