Happy Wednesday, church family!

When I was growing up, I remember a time I was angrily cleaning the bathroom. It made no sense to me why I had to clean it- just because my parents had friends coming over. Why do things need to be cleaned for other people? It wasn’t that bad, it was fine just the way it was. Fast forward many years, to the day my dad was helping Dave move the week we got married. He took one look at Dave’s absolutely disgusting room (seriously, there were moldy coffee mugs and a dead pet newt), turned to me, and said, “You sure about this?” Over the years, we’ve both gotten better. Uncleanliness and mess still do not bother Dave, but he knows I’ve morphed into a, “I feel much better when it’s not a disaster” person, so he’ll try to keep things tidy. 

Somehow, my preference for a clean house mutated from ‘who cares’, to ‘yeah, I need it clean’, to where I recently realized I am: “it’s clean now so don’t do anything to mess it up.” Let’s dive a little deeper into what that entails. For one thing, I don’t remember the last time I opened our house for our small group to meet. When people are here, I find myself irritable, cleaning up behind them, and making sure dishes are put away. Oddly, this is a strange juxtaposition with my “oh well” attitude when something spills. I just shrug and calmly get a towel. It was this slide during Andy’s sermon this Sunday that made me realize what has been happening: 

Deception doesn't feel like deception; it feels like a reasonable thought you didn't question. You recognize deception not by how extreme it is, but by how quietly it shifts what you believe, feel, or do.

I have always loved having the gift of hospitality. At one point, we hosted three families, 17 people in total, and another time, our friends with nine kids were surprised when we offered to host them as well. All my girls’ friends know they are welcome here, and my pantry is open for them to rummage through. We even housed a schizophrenic refugee from the Paradise fires, no problem. Yet recently, I’ve found my attitude about our home openness shifting, and I don’t like it. I've realized the enemy's soft, quiet whispers, which created worries over cleanliness and order, have been squelching my love of opening our home to people. Friends, I’ve been slowly deceived. NOT COOL. NO MORE, SATAN!

Jesus gave Dave and I the gift of hospitality, and we really do love opening our home to friends and family. It brings us joy to love others through cooking, baking, and just providing a safe place for people to land. So now, with this realization, I am choosing to take back my gift of hospitality. I choose to believe that when I am following Jesus’ lead, and serving others in my home, that it is NOT a burden, that it is a privilege and a joy! I reject the lie that I have to keep things in my home “just so”, without disarray, and that inviting more people into it brings more love, not chaos! (Okay, depending on the number of teenagers, there may be chaos- but there can be joy in chaos!)

Jesus, thank You for the gifts You have given me, and for my love of people. I take back that love that I have allowed to be tainted. I invite You into this area of my life. Let’s bring the people back to Casa Bartle! Bless and seal these good things in me, in Your name, amen!

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

One day at my daughters swim team practice, she refused to get in the pool. There was no reason, she just didn’t want to. She wouldn’t move, wouldn't say anything other than “NO”. There was nothing I could do or say that would make her get in the water, short of picking her up and throwing her in. Deciding that it would be best not to have the entire pool deck’s population witness a meltdown (from me, not her), I decided to let her stubbornness win, and we went home. I remember thinking, “Jeez, she’s so stubborn, she wouldn’t even talk!” I was so frustrated with her. I mean, I’m not that stubborn! Then as I was asking Jesus what He wanted me to work on this week, He brought this story to my mind, and in so many words, reminded me that I am just as stubborn. Gulp.

In Andy’s sermon this week, a line stuck out to me: The lie in all of this is that Satan, and this beast, want Jesus removed from the center of your life. Let’s put stubborn Lisa together with Satan’s goal of dethroning Jesus in our lives…. Enter unforgiveness. Ooooh boy. Here we go. There are a couple people in my life I really struggle with. They have hurt me, annoyed me, and, well, I don’t wanna forgive them (*foot stomp*). I know I need to, I’m the one struggling here, not them. It’s a process, and honestly I have been working on it. Wait, did you read what I said there? *I* have been working on it. Not ‘I’ve been talking to Jesus about it’. Just me. Well, that’s not productive. Why aren’t I inviting Jesus in? Because I’m too darn stubborn. If I invite Jesus in, then I know I’ll have to do some good old fashioned forgiveness work, and I’ll have to stop griping about these people. (Yes, I know how that sounds, and no, I’m not proud of it).

Wouldn’t you know, this week, within 3 days, I interacted with both of these individuals. Here’s the catch- for the first time, I prayed before each interaction. Friends, this was not a big drawn out prayer. I think my exact words were, “Jesus, come in. Jesus help”. Guess what. The interactions weren’t as bad as I was expecting them to be. Yet even in the midst of patting myself on the back for actually remembering to pray beforehand, Satan was trying to get me to ignore Jesus. I heard things like, “Eh, they were just in a good mood, it wasn’t the prayer.” Ugh. 

I’m learning that even when I think Jesus is at the center of my life, there are aspects that I just keep clinging onto, and allow that slow boil of the enemy’s influence to seep in through the cracks. But I’m over it. Or at least I choose to be over it today, which is all I've got. Today, I choose to squash the enemy’s whispers. Instead, continue to invite Jesus into all areas of my life, even the ones I’ve been hesitant too, out of sheer stubbornness!

Jesus, I receive Your forgiveness for clinging onto whatever feeling I get from not forgiving. I’m sorry for trying to do it by myself, I realize it’s getting me nowhere, yet with a few simple words, You bring in peace that for some reason still surprises me. Thank You for always waiting there for me with open arms, to protect me and give me peace. Bless and seal all the good things I’m realizing in me, in Jesus name, amen. 

May your week be blessed,

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family! 
 

I hate driving. I mean, it's fine, I'll do it, but I'm not one of those people who loves to drive. I don't look at a long trip as a splendid opportunity to be behind the wheel, exploring, and possibly take a longer route just to see what's there. Nope, no thank you. Dave, my husband? That's his happy place. He once had a flight from SLO to Phoenix get cancelled, and he was legitimately thrilled  that he got to drive instead. He had a fun car for years, and would spend his spare time going for drives whenever he could. He'd always ask if I wanted to go with him, to which I'd always answer "I love you", with a sheepish grin. This meant: "I love you but no way in any universe do I want to sit in the car for hours if I don't have to."

Dave and I have always had pretty opposite interests. I like to hike and be active, while he's happy doing things like watching videos about music theory or calculus (seriously), and researching the heck out of everything. Recently, he sold his fun car, and ended up with an e-bike (yes, pretty drastic change). For the first time in the 30 years I've known him, he's exercising regularly on this bike, and instead of going on long drives, he's going on long bike rides. He asked if I wanted to get a bike and join him. Friends, the last time I was on a bike was in Big Bear in college on a bike trail. My hind end hurt, and let's face it, I don't have the greatest balance. I politely declined, not as vehemently as the car ride, but, sorry dude, biking is not my thing.

Let's look at the situations above. What has actually been happening? Dave isn't trying to drag me to do something I don't want to do, he wants to spend time with me. What has been my response? Resistance. Shoot, that's what Andy preached about being the first thing the enemy does to keep us from what God wants us to do. What happens when the two of us spend time together? We have time to talk, to share, to strengthen our relationship. What have I been choosing instead? My stubbornness has been choosing comfort, sitting on the couch, doing my own thing, resisting anything that isn't exactly what *I* want to do, instead of growing the relationship with my favorite person. Gulp. 

Enter the Holy Spirit's nudge. Several hours after church on Sunday, Dave was talking about riding to Avila for fun, getting some coffee, then riding home. Remember that convicting nudge that Andy talked about? Let me remind you, because let's be honest, I need it:

Conviction doesn’t feel peaceful at first, usually because we don’t want to hear that we are called to die to our will, our selfishness, and our rebellion. But when we forgive and confess and repent, we are always given His peace.

That's when the conviction hit me. It wasn't the way that the enemy attacks, I didn't feel accused, I felt pressure. I realized I'd been resisting spending time with Dave, because it wasn't the exact way that I wanted to. In that moment, I felt like I knew what Jesus wanted me to do. I told Dave I wanted to get a bike and go on bike rides with him. Friends, his face lit up, and then he started researching the best kind of bike for me. Now, another thing Andy talked about in his sermon was that when we make a decision to do something in God's plan, the enemy will dig in and starting throwing things at us. So in the coming days or weeks, I need to be diligent in putting on my spiritual armor daily in preparation. I don't want to let my resistance or initial frustration keep me from God's plan to keep the relationship with my husband strong!

Jesus, I ask for forgiveness for resisting things like spending time with Dave, because it's not comfortable or what I had in mind. I choose to follow the Holy Spirit's nudges now, and use my little human power to throat punch the enemy for trying to steer me in another direction. I ask for protection as I embark on this new hobby with Dave, both spiritually and physically. Thank You for giving me a partner in life who wants to spend time with me! Bless our relationship. In your precious name, amen.   

May your week be blessed,

Lisa

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