Happy Wednesday, church family! 
 

Remember that kid in school whose hand was permanently raised? You know the one- before the teacher had finished even asking the question, their hand was up, ready to spout off the "perfect" textbook answer. They'd usually sit in the front row, and once they were called on, they recited everything (and more) the teacher was looking for, they'd have that smug look on their face. My friends, I was never that kid in school, but confession time: Recently, I've tried to be that front row kid in the words I write to you each week. 

In his sermon this week, Pastor Kurt emphasized the importance of vulnerability- with ourselves, with God, and with each other. Each Sunday, I listen to the sermon, occasionally taking notes, but try to listen to what God is saying to me through Andy's or Kurt's words. Some Sundays it's like they're speaking directly to me, others, it's more vague. Then comes time to write- yes, I'm vulnerable in my words, but it's the process that I've been struggling with lately. The last handful of weeks, I've started writing the "perfect textbook" devotional. I've found myself sitting down, thinking "how can I really drive home what was preached?" Instead of "how can I share what God taught me?" I've been writing beautifully crafted words, only to have God, halfway through my writing, cut me off, delete paragraphs, and have me start over. 

When I try to write the perfect devotional, I'm performing, trying to impress, and say the right things. Those are the times I sit down to write with the mentality of regurgitating what was already said in a new way, instead of vulnerably asking God to show me what He wants me to learn. Not write, learn. That process isn't being honest with myself with what God is teaching me through Sunday's sermon. Not every week is the biggest lightbulb moment, but my friends, I guarantee each week there's SOMEthing God is trying to show me! (Spoiler, I have a lot to learn and room to grow!)

Once I delete the flowery, perfect words and paragraphs (yes, it's painful!) and ask God what He is showing me, things become clear. The harder I try to write the "right" thing, the harder it is to actually write. It's when I stop, slow down, and confess what my struggles that week have been, shift my thinking from pride to honesty, that He shows me where I can grow. For me, this looks like clearing my mind, and listening. It's asking Jesus to come into the moment, and have Him to show me what He is teaching me. It's being honest with myself, where my struggles are, and coming to Jesus with those things. It's not stressing about what I'm going to write, but focusing on what Jesus is showing me. Sharing vulnerably is the most powerful thing I can do. 

God, I'm sorry for performing, for trying to find the perfect words, instead of being honest with myself and You. I'm sorry for letting my pride try to control what You want me to learn each week. I choose to slow down, and be honest with You, myself, and my friends, and open my heart and ears to what You want me to learn and where I need to grow. Thank You for always being a place I can safely be completely raw and honest, and loved. 

May your week be blessed,

Lisa