Happy Wednesday, church family!

Remember in elementary school when you had to diagram sentences? Grammar was everything, nouns go here, verbs go there, and don't forget about the prepositions, adverbs, and adjectives. Everything had its place in this neat little horrible diagram of lines and offshoots. I absolutely hated diagramming sentences. I never could remember what went on what line, and why. I think it was the most useless thing to learn in school, next to proofs in geometry. Ironically, my mom had been an English teacher, so every time I wrote a paper for school, she butchered it with a red pen (but she didn't mention diagrams!). When I homeschooled my girls in elementary school, I even skipped diagramming, explaining to them I'd used it zero times in my life. I knew how to write, and I knew what "sounded" right, so therefore that was all I needed. Grammar doesn't really matter, right?  

Enter Andy’s mic-drop words from Sunday’s sermon:

Satan wants us to tie our identity to our wounds and pain, or our efforts, or perfection. Jesus writes His name on our hearts and our identity is about what He’s done, not what we do.

At first, I thought, I don’t really tie my identity to my wounds, weakness, etc. Then I remembered these thoughts: I’m anxious. I can’t do that. I’m frumpy. I can’t remember names. Those are all identity statements. Oooh boy. Debbie is so good at catching me when I say things like this- she reminds me: “Change your grammar!” I may struggle with things, I may fail at others, but those things don’t determine or define WHO I am. 

When I say something over and over about myself, of course I’m going to believe it. Self-fulfilling prophecy in full effect! I used to say the phrase “my anxiety”. In those two words, I’ve claimed anxiety as who I am- owned it, and accepted it. No, thank you. That’s not how I want to identify myself! But if I change those words to “I feel anxious”, or “I struggle with anxiety”, I’m removing its weight, and in turn, taking the power away from Satan and his attempts to bring me down.

I am not my struggles. I am not my past. I have experienced my past, and it has shaped me, but I am not that wound. I AM a child of God. I AM loved. I am NOT who someone else thinks I am. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am SAVED by Jesus, I am broken, but because I trust in my Savior, I have hope, I am restored. Come on, ya’ll, say it with me, yes, you guessed it, TOGETHER. 

Jesus, thank You for writing Your name on my heart, for claiming me as Your own. I choose to believe this truth, and reject the lies that I am anything but Yours. Show me where else in my life I am believing lies, and in those places, let Your truth shine bright. Bless and seal these good things, in Your precious name, amen. 

May your week be blessed, 

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

In a crisis or moment of chaos, I tend to be the calm one. I’ve rocked individuals and talked them out of a panic attack. When my car spun out on the freeway and I ended up facing the wrong direction, I managed to calmly flip a quick U, and pull over to the side before tragedy struck (yes, my heart rate and blood pressure skyrocked shortly after). I have been called a human Xanax more than one time in my life. Yet there was a day this week that I was NOT the calm one. I wanted to just run away from all the things that were going on. I won’t bore you with the all gory details, but stressors were being thrown at me left and right. From my dad calling to say he split his head open and was driving himself to get a head scan, to having to interact with an individual that provokes all kinds of stress. Throw in a few other things like family visiting from out of town, and I was a mess. My usual “OK, I got this” mentality was gone. I felt like I was being torn in too many directions, and I was done.

After sitting on the couch staring at the wall for a few minutes, I had the most amazing realization. I should ask Jesus into that moment. (No, it wasn’t my initial gut reaction, and no, I’m not proud of that). But I did, and I even took it a step further. We have a message thread for staff and elders for prayer requests. I took a breath, and wrote all I was feeling, and asked for prayer. My friends, what happened next was absolutely nothing short of a miracle. I calmed down. Things started falling into place, and interaction with the difficult person went better than I could have ever imagined. That was 100% Jesus right there. 

I feel like my story this week is a culmination of the last several weeks. We’ve talked about vulnerability, doing things together, and sharing with safe people, and giving the bleh stuff to Jesus, by inviting Him into the mess. This week Andy talked about not giving away our peace. Before asking Jesus into the moment, I was letting both people and situations steal my peace. Actually, my peace wasn’t being stolen. I was handing it over, willingly. Ew. But I made the decision to invite Him in, I even said it out loud. Then I found my courage, and was vulnerable by asking for prayer. It was one of those things that I feel like I can’t stop talking or thinking about because it was so amazing. 

Jesus, THANK YOU. I don’t know why I’m so surprised when You do something amazing, yet here I stand, still in awe. Thank You for showing me so many things this week. I choose to let You to hold my peace, not myself, not others, not the situations around me. Bless and seal these good things in me, In Your name, amen. 

May your week be blessed,

Lisa

Happy Wednesday, church family!

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping’.

~Fred Rogers

In this week’s sermon, when Pastor Andy talked about focusing on Jesus instead of the evil in this world, I thought about Mr. Rogers’ words. But even if there’s helpers, there’s still bad stuff, right? Well, yes, but looking for the good shifts my mindset from panic, fear or anger, to calm. It’s kind of a reset button to step back and look at the situation from a different perspective. It’s so easy with all the bleh going on in the world, far from, and close to home, to get my panties in a bunch over everything. But that’s not all that’s going on. Like Mr. Rogers said, there are helpers, and the weight of what they are doing has so much more density and power than the yuck that started it all. 

Let’s take Sunday, for example. Debbie and I were up front doing announcements. My words flubbed more than usual, and the perfectionist in me froze. But honestly, I had a moment where I looked out at all of your faces, the smiles, and that’s when I saw the “helpers”. I realized I didn’t have to be perfect, so we laughed, turned around, and started fresh (still with flubs, but oh well). You did that, my friends. In that moment, you were Jesus to me, reminding me that you love me, even when I don’t know what day of the week or even month we’re in. I love you guys.

Jesus, thank You for the reminder to look for the good and the helpers, and for the change in perspective to focus on You instead of the evil around us. Thank You for my friends, my church family, for reminding me of this when I need it. I fix my eyes on You, Jesus. Bless and seal these good things, in Your name, amen.

May your week be blessed,

Lisa

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