Happy Wednesday, church family!

I’m not a good liar. If you ask me how I’m doing and I pause, that means my answer is longer than the expected “good!”, and I’m debating whether or not you’re ready for the full word vomit of what’s going on in my world. Occasionally the answer will be something like, “I have a headache”, or, “I got new shoes and they’re super comfy”. I tell it like it is, my friends, and if an amazing dress on clearance makes me feel like a million bucks, there’s a good chance you’ll hear about it… and its pockets. 

Writing here to you each week is another way I have a tendency to just share the good, the bad, and the ugly of my life. It’s a level of vulnerability I honestly never thought I’d be, what’s the word, embarking on? Doing? Sharing? Something like that. In his sermon last Sunday, Pastor Andy had this to say about vulnerability:

We equate vulnerability with danger. The truth is that vulnerability is what creates connection with God and others.

So the “typical” reaction to that statement would perhaps be to recognize the power of vulnerability, as it helps us grow together, share stories, understand each other, and become closer to God. Yet, for some reason, I felt the opposite. I had this zing of “Oh my gosh, Lisa, you are WAY too vulnerable. You share too much each week, people are going to think you’re nothing but a big fat mess all the time, someone who just won’t learn”. Well, that was pleasant to sit with. 

Friends, how many of us feel like that? I can think of more than one conversation this week where that concern was raised. There’s a fear of overwhelming others with being vulnerable and sharing what’s really going on in our life. There’s a fear of people pulling away when the whole truth, and the weight of it, is shared. Guess what. There are absolutely people who are and who will. (I know, “Gee, thanks, Lisa, way to make me feel encouraged”… hold on, keep reading!) But there are also people that God has put in our life who not only WILL listen and stick around, but WANT to. And guess what else. We even get to be that person to others. 

With my fears of being too vulnerable came the opportunity to listen to Jesus, and the realization that my stories are encouragement. Not to every person every week, but if one person is encouraged, or feels less alone from me airing my dirty laundry, then that’s a win. Here’s the other thing. Several of you have been Jesus for me, telling me my words encouraged you, made you feel like it wasn’t just you. So thank you, my friends, for your encouragement to me as I attempt to encourage you as well! 

Jesus, I reject the lie that I shouldn’t continue to share my life. I choose to continue to share and be vulnerable with what You are teaching me. Thank You for the people in my life who are Jesus to me, and thank You for the honor of listening to my friends’ stories. Thank You for being the ultimate friend, who I can share every aspect of myself with, and You love me no matter what, unconditionally. Bless and seal these good things in me, in Your name, amen. 

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

I interviewed for a case manager position at a brain injury hospital when I was in my early 20s. I had worked there as a tech during college, so I was very familiar with the program. The new director of the program walked in, sat down, put his feet up on the table, leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms and said, “So why should I hire you?” I was taken aback, as the first two people I interviewed with had been incredibly encouraging and positive. Long story short, I got the job, but I spent my time there trying to prove myself, explaining every action, defending my choices, and constantly afraid of running into the director. Eight months later, I was laid off, because the census was dropping, and I couldn’t (read, “wouldn’t”) convince insurance companies to authorize unnecessary extensions of treatment, simply to keep revenue up. Fast forward to this week. I was today years old when I realized it was that job, and the director, that shaped how I view myself in the workplace. 

In Sunday’s sermon, Pastor Andy talked about the fall of Babylon in Revelation, aka the world, and how many leaders of that world have been shaped by the enemy. These leaders are driven by greed, doing things their own way, and being rewarded with money, fame, and the sort.

Babylon creates leaders that shape us…actually, they misshape us and horribly wound us. 

My feet-on-the-table/arms-crossed accusatory boss was the epitome of this. Besides the fact that he bragged about his $400 tie (I kid you not, and this was a 2002 price) and thousand dollar shoes, he demanded so much of his employees. He questioned everything and everyone, ignored our actual brain injured patients in the wing, and focused only on the revenue they produced. 

Twenty plus years later, I find myself at Coastal, a place that I am encouraged, loved, and supported. Yet, I have felt like I’ve had to prove myself since day one. Even when my rational brain acknowledges the truth, there’s been something floating around in my mind, telling me otherwise. What the heck, y’all? How messed up is that!

The truth is that I am in a safe place. It’s safe to be myself, safe to be human, to make mistakes, safe to learn, and to grow. It’s safe because of Jesus and the people here who love Him. And even if I someday find myself in a place where Babylon resides, I can still choose the safety of Jesus. I can choose to keep my mind, body, and soul in line with Him rather than trusting the faux beauty and empty promises the devil dangles before me. The truth is that I am learning to accept God’s truth about who I am and what I am worth, instead of accepting the lie that I am bound by circumstances and leaders in my past. I don’t need to chase the impossible goal of proving who knows what, to who knows who. 

Jesus, thank You for the experiences of my past, and for the wisdom to finally realize that certain ones, like that job, have affected my perception of the present. Thank You for the clarity to understand what has caused these feelings of inadequacy. Thank You for this church family, that I am in a safe place to learn more about myself and You, to grow and heal the wounds of the past. I reject the lie that I need to prove myself, running myself ragged in order to find acceptance and worthiness. I am worthy, loved, and accepted. Bless and seal these good things in me, in Your name, amen. 

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

Have you ever played the game two truths and a lie? It’s one of those games usually played as an ice breaker, where you share two true things about yourself, and one lie. Everyone has to guess which one is the lie. I’m honestly (pun intended) a pretty lousy liar, so I never did great at that game. I’d try to figure out the most obscure true thing about myself, and counter it with an almost-truth. Side note, I learned that my counselor for winter camp one year could only taste with half of her tongue, after a wisdom tooth extraction went wrong. Needless to say, when it came time for me to have my wisdom teeth removed, I was a little paranoid. I digress. Back to lying. The goal of this game is to shroud the lies in truths, so that it is hard to see what is real. As Pastor Andy was speaking about chasing the empty “beauty” the enemy tantalizes us with, I thought about this game, and how the enemy does the same, with much higher stakes. 

I participated in our prayer retreat with Pastor Andy and Debbie in October 2024. One of the focuses of the weekend is to recognize the enemy’s lies that we have been believing. One of my favorite parts is the first evening, when we read through this huge list of the enemy’s most common lies, things I didn’t even KNOW were lies. We all raised our hands, indicating that we had heard these words, believing them to be true. But here’s the thing, they aren’t lies that are outlandish or crazy. They’re subtle, and based on truth. Like the 2 truths and a lie game, the lie is cushioned between truths. The enemy takes something that IS indeed a truth, and skews it, twists the outcome, and tries to make it our identity.

At 3 days old, I was taken from my birth mother, and placed in a foster home. 10 weeks later, I was taken from that foster home and placed with my adoptive parents. Right there is my first trauma- even as a newborn, my body/mind knew I was being taken from what was familiar and placed in a new situation. This is all true. What’s not true is that I was abandoned and rejected. The truth is I was rescued from an awful situation. Yet, like most adopted individuals, my body and mind remembered those early shifts. Enter the weasel satan, who saw this truth, and whispered lies to me, to take something that happened, and place a new, false expectation with it. Somewhere along the line, I started believing that to NOT be abandoned and rejected, I accepted the lie that I’m not enough, that I have to do more, be more, and keep going, even when I’m at my limit. Guess what. THAT’S A LIE!!! 

The truth is that yes, like every one of us, I have something in my life that has caused my mind/body/spirit to struggle. But the truth is in God, that He loves me, that I am enough, that I am loved. It’s an area in my life that I am poor in spirit, which is God’s beautiful invitation for me to recognize that I am deficient. I can’t do it alone, I am lacking in a way that only God can comfort me. It’s a chance for me to realize that even though all the yuck happened, I am still worthy, loved, and cherished. I don’t have to prove who I am, what I can do, or earn anything. In the words directly from Debbie at the prayer retreat, I AM ENOUGH!!!

Jesus, thank You for rescuing me in my first weeks of life. Thank You for my real, adopted parents, and their unconditional love for me. I recognize that the truths of my life have created areas to grow, yet also places that I get extra jabs from the enemy. I choose to put on my armor each day, and daily reject the lies that I am abandoned and rejected, and instead believe the truth that I am enough. Bless and seal these good things in me, in Your name, amen. 

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

This week started off with a bang. On Monday, I witnessed the most insane amount of injustice and lying directed at a dear friend. To top it off, I was called the most derogatory name I might have ever been called. Friends, on Monday, I was hot. I came home so hot that my daughter’s boyfriend was a little afraid of me. (If you’ve ever seen the movie Inside Out, I WAS the character Anger). The next morning, I sat down to write this. I failed, because, let’s be honest, there was still a lot of anger milling around my noggin. It’s just not fair for my friend to have to go through these things, for the person hurting her to call others foul names, and for the disappointment that ensued from the day as a whole. It’s not fair and it sucks. *foot stomp*

Then, as usual, words from Andy’s sermon came back to haunt, I mean nudge me. He asked us to take a moment this week to think about what Jesus has rescued us from. Well, that’s fine and great, Andy. It’s easy when things are going smoothly to reflect on the good that God has done. Like what we’ve accomplished with His help, what He’s brought us through, and where He’s helped us grow. But in the middle of the mire? Well, it’s a little harder to see. In full disclosure, I started writing this from the perspective of ‘all is good, let’s reflect’. Then Kurt reminded me that in the midst of my fuming, it’s not always that easy. 

Yet even in the midst of the yuck, Jesus IS there. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the worst parts of the day, I forget to be grateful for the good. And I’m not just talking about Monday. In the middle of the most difficult times, it’s so hard to remember all the other times Jesus has gotten me through. The times I’ve been curled up on the closet floor bawling, where it seems like there’s absolutely no end to tragedy, (Spoiler: it did come to an end.) I survived, and I grew, because Jesus rescued me. 

Today, I stand on top of all the chaos that has ensued in my life, on Monday, and all the other days. Jesus has been with me through all of them. Regardless of their size and impact, from frustration at another driver, to walking through the process of death with my mom, He held me, and gave me the strength to get through. It’s because of the mountain of bleh that I stand on, that I know I can manage the next hill covered with anger, hurt, or pain. I just have to remember where I’ve been. Also, that the end, or even the journey itself, might not be MY plan A, but regardless of the outcome, I’m not alone. I’m held by my Creator through it all. I’m stronger than I think, because Jesus is with me on the journey. The enemy will try to break me, but, in the end, Jesus wins. When it’s all over, we WILL stand above the chaos, victorious with our Savior. 

Jesus, thank You for getting me through every single day of my life, some unscathed, some definitely scathed. I choose today to look at those scars, those battle wounds, as areas that You used to grow my strength, my faith, and my confidence. Because of You, I can keep going. Thank You for holding me. Bless and seal these good things in me,, in Your name, amen. 

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa