Child-Like

To my She Seeks friends who have found their way over after my inspirational entry this morning....WELCOME! I'm so glad you stopped by. My goal is to post every Monday, but as you can see from my previous posts, I sometimes fail to accomplish this. (Grace! :) But know this: when I do post, it will be something that is truly on my heart to share. So come back by or sign up to follow my blog...follow me on Twitter or request me as a friend on Facebook. I am honored to share thoughts from my journey with you.

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Once again, one of my children has been a catalyst for self-analysis in my life.

It happened this morning when I went to get my daughter up and out of bed.
Before she had even cracked her sleepy eyes open, her mouth started moving. These were the words that came out of it:

“Mom, this is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Immediately, my heart began to stir. I was tired. Some things were weighing on me. But at the same time, her words resonated somewhere deep within me, where I longed to go and camp out for awhile.

It is the place where good things like faith and love and hope reside. It is the place where simple is better and less is more and naivety is a gift. It is the place where God is love and that is enough for me to want to share it with others. It is a place that has no real understanding of what people are capable of, and that is ok. It is the place where I am not over burdened, burnt out or jaded. It is a place of safety and trust – housing no control issues and no ulterior motives.

It is where a child resides because they haven’t lived long enough to be messed up by the crud of the world. It’s where my daughter currently lives, as evidenced by the joy felt in her words about her favorite day of the week.

It didn’t take much self-reflection to understand what God was saying to my heart…

“Love me like a child, Lisa. Remember what it’s like to rejoice over the simple.“

I know I can’t go back to being 7, again. Life has happened in front of my very eyes, and suddenly, today I become a woman of 38. But the ability to become open and willing and eager and joyful and optimistic is mine to claim. These things are possible, simply because Jesus is my source of life. Circumstances around me don’t have to change for me to saturate myself in the fact that I am a child of God, He loves me, and the day I have today is a gift, plain and simple.

Though the world isn’t always safe.

Though my relationships aren’t always easy.

Though words hurt, my body gives out, rejection happens and there are things I can’t control.

This is the day He has made. My daughter says it is reason enough to rejoice, and I happen to believe her.

Re-defining

Two days ago, standing in my kitchen, God spoke a word to my heart…

“Re-defining.”

I have been thinking about it ever since.

I’m not all that smart, but I can take a hint when I hear one. Clearly, God has noticed that I have mis-labeled myself somewhere along the way and He needs to make some adjustments.

I get it. I feel it.

Listen, everyone says they hate labels. I am no different. I dislike professional bios for people like me for that very reason. It becomes, then, the unspoken thing of either “this is what I do and you don’t” or “this is who I am and base my identity on.” In either case, I don’t like it. I understand the reason behind it, but I don’t like it. It feels like a label to me.

But if I’m honest I have to admit that I been labeled a million times over, sometimes by myself and other times by others. Here are just a few of the nametags I have worn through the years…

Hi, my name is Lonely.
Hi, my name is Shame.
Hi, my name is Popular.
Hi, my name is Insecure.
Hi, my name is Fat.
Hi, my name is Confident.
Hi, my name is Fun.
Hi, my name is Controversial.
Hi, my name is Dumped.
Hi, my name is Reckless.
Hi, my name is Misunderstood.
Hi, my name is Fearless.

I could go on.

As I look back at these labels, I see where none of them have been particularly helpful to me. They were based on things I felt at the time and may or may not have been justified or been caused by my actions or reactions. What I’ve learned is that sometimes people label others unfairly. And sometimes (though unfairly), those labels stick.

But I have to also be honest enough to say that more often than not, we label ourselves. We decide that we are one way and we plant ourselves there. We determine the way we act on a daily basis by the label we give ourselves, even when it’s not a very good idea and doesn’t get us very emotionally far.

I will be the first to raise my hand and admit that for myself.

With this word, “re-defining” that God so clearly spoke to my heart, I know He is trying to tell me to stay the course, as He is in the process of re-defining who I am. But in order to let Him do that, I have to stop thinking of myself as who I was, who others think I am, or who I have always been. It is a clearing of the heart and mind of a “definition” of myself to allow Him to “re-define” me for His glory and purpose on this earth.

It’s tough, because old habits die hard.

Labels stick.

And people like to define things.

But the bottom line is that many of us, myself included, desperately need to be re-defined by Him. We need to stop putting labels on ourselves and let Him determine who we need to be. That may mean that we lose the desire to be popular over being holy. That may mean we let go of the need to be heard or seen. That may mean that we are ok with not playing a role for people that they have come to expect or count on. It may result in us dipping into waters unknown and garage-saleing our identity based on a job or life role or even, painful past experience. I don’t know what all it means.

But if it means what I think it means, then freedom from labels is right around the corner for those of us who are interested.

When I think of it that way, continuing to define myself doesn't make much sense.

So as I write this, I praise God for His amazing ability to “re-define”...and that He's interested enough in me to take on the challenge of removing all my labels. May we all rest in His ability to do more with our lives than we can possibly imagine, including re-defining what has always been who we thought we were.

nothingness.

Last Sunday, I did something really spiritual.

I went to a local woman’s home named Joanie and fed 35 fellow Charlotteans who are homeless. I didn’t take my usual Sunday afternoon nap that day, nor did I go home after church and slip into my track pants and husband’s baggy t-shirt, as is my custom. Instead, I slopped food into compartmentalized Styrofoam plates that clearly exceeded their weight limit.

But before you award me the “Most Likely to Become Spiritual” award and start clapping and cheering for me, let me just tell you the gut-level truth.

I really didn’t want to go.

I was having one of those days. I was tired and weary, if not borderline sick. I was emotionally drained and spiritually dry. I really didn’t have anything to give, and the last thing I wanted to do was go and give some more.

The. Last. Thing.

But it was more than just that.

I think you should know that I am really lame when it comes to serving people. Super lame. Not only is it not my spiritual gift, but it is also not something I am used to doing…ashamed, as though, I am to admit it. I’ve lived many years in a comfortable pew without being asked to do very much for God…and honestly, I’ve liked it that way.

I admire my believing-counterparts who have such ease with their service and have an acute sensitivity to the hurting. I wish I had their abilities in this area and could serve with such effortlessness. Instead, I am so lame when it comes to serving that I am a cross between an awkward middle schooler and a newborn fawn…totally insecure and completely self-conscious…and really wobbly when out of my safe and natural environment.

I could fill this post with many more details about last Sunday’s mission project. But you know the drill, I can imagine. I came, and I served food. I met some new faces and had some conversations. I was simultaneously convicted about how much I have and reminded of how important it is to do God’s work, no matter how it is presented to me. All of these things.

But on this particular day, what was most impactful to me was the 10 minutes between the informal backyard hellos and the slabs of store-bought carrot cake being hoisted onto plates of hungry people: Joanie’s message.

I’m not sure who Joanie had in mind when she prepared her message. I kind of doubt it was intended for me, especially since we had never met. And unless she was The Great Invisible Eavesdropping Woman, she wasn’t around when I whispered to God in the kitchen just moments prior… "Please, Lord. Say something I need to hear. Bring me a word from You. Because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

Joanie spoke from Hebrews, and God spoke through her, straight to my heart. Here were her points, with my paraphrase and in no particular order…

Don’t quit.

Be grateful.

Trust God.

Have joy.

Live love.

A few minutes later, after the food was served and the service had wrapped, Joanie and I were in the kitchen. With tears in the brim of my eyes, I told her how much her message meant to me and how God had used her to speak to my heart. It was then that she turned to me and said something I didn’t expect… “I’m so glad, honey, because I didn’t have anything this morning. I told God, “you are gonna have to give me something because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

The familiarity of her words surprised me...confused me...and comforted me, all at the same time. But one thing was for sure...I knew they were not uttered out of sheer coincidence because that is just not His style.

Even as I write this, I am reminded of Joanie’s words. And over a week later, they seem to be, yet again, right where I am.

Don’t quit. Over the past month, I’ve resigned my life like 3,000 times.

Be grateful. I have so much, yet I want another couple of things to decorate my house with.

Trust God. Wow. I think sometimes I’m better at almost anything else.

Have joy. I have had some serious pity parties lately.

Live love. I am a professional receiver and a farm-team giver.

Listen…I am a strong woman, but sometimes this faith journey kicks my butt. I’d like to believe I’m willing to live a million moments serving God, even if that means I feel really awkward and out-of-the-norm doing it.

But sometimes, that’s just not the case.

The thing is, I’m realizing that I have to first run out of things to say so He can actually speak through me. I’m understanding that when I am at the place where quitting seems like the most plausible option, there is newfound room for Him to give me a much better one.

It is the place of “nothingness.” And it is the place, I am learning, that I most need to be .

Seriously, whatever.

I absolutely love the inspirational entry this week on She Seeks.

Not because it is well-written, though it is.

Not because it is insightful, though it is.

And not because I relate to the specific struggle my friend, Heather, writes about in her battle with brain cancer.

{Because, by the grace of God, I do not.}

But because of this, Heather’s first statement of her post:

“I’m sitting here, trying to think about how to put my heart into words, but the only thing that comes out is ‘Whatever, Lord.’ ”

I love this line because I myself, am at a “whatever, Lord” stage in my life. I relate to not being able to put my heart into words, and I relate to the only thing that I can really say to God in a raw, real way lately is, “whatever, Lord.”

I’ve found them to be among the most powerful of words.

Now you need to know that I am not the most compliant of all His kids, to be sure. In fact, I have had my picture on many a heavenly “runaway” milk cartons in my day. Trust me when I say that everything (and I do mean e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g) within me begs to continue to do things my way. On a daily basis it seems, I want to continue to put my own, controlled spiritual notches on my belt without having to deal with the discomfort of being misunderstood, misrepresented or physically inconvenienced on my faith journey. The funny thing about God is, I’ve found that He doesn’t typically beg me to see things His way. Instead, He lets me run my own agenda and waits until I ask Him to mop up the horrendous mess my independence has made. Just how big of a mess it creates is determined by how long I run it before I get on my knees and say to Him…

“Whatever, Lord.”

These words for me don’t come easy. I am not good at giving up control. Even now, I want to qualify my “whatever” with some element of restraint -- some “I will if you will first do this’s”…some “I’ll try but I can’t promise it’ll happen’s”…and some “I can do this but not that’s.” The bottom line is that I still stinkin’ want so much for God to do things my way so I can be downright managerial with my relationships and feelings and live in my world of "self protection." It's not that it works out better for me, it's just that it's so...familiar...so comfortable. And in that moment, so much easier.

But always, in the end, I know that the life I have chosen is the one that says, “Whatever, Lord.” And while I don’t know what “whatever, Lord” will mean 10 hours or 10 years from now, I do know that the life of surrender is the only one I am able to live since I gave Him my heart at the age of 6 in the worship center of my daddy's church in the small, sleepy town of Enid, Oklahoma.

I can run. {and I have tried.}

I can hide. {done that, too.}

I can wrestle and I can control. {got the t-shirt, blue ribbon and trophy all to show for it.}

But I was not made to live, running my own agenda. In the end, they have proven to just be really messy. But I was made to come back to my Creator after my moments of running, lift my palms up and say…

“Whatever, Lord.”

Whatever that means.

It simply has to be, "whatever."

Matthew 6:9-10 -- " Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

No One Else

Thank God, I’ve never been in a physically abusive relationship, like my friend whose experience is documented this week on our She Seeks site. {www.sheseeks.org}

But her story made me think about my own relationships through the years.

As I write this, I enjoy a solid, loving relationship with my husband of 14 years. For that, I rejoice…and to a degree…marvel. Because like most people I know, I have been in relationships with people who I loved that rejected me, wanted to change me, and made me feel less than in some way.

I’ve had people choose to love someone other than me. I’ve had people tell me I didn’t have what they were looking for and that they didn’t love me enough to work on the things that were driving us apart. Sometimes they didn’t say it with words. Other times they did.

Through the years those kinds of relationships brought pain of a different sort.

They were the kind that hurt my heart. They were the kind that made me want to be someone with a better personality, better body or better abilities. They were the kind that made me want to be the funniest girl in the room or at least, the best flirt. They were the kind that made me want to be…worthy.

When I think back to these relationships, I think about the fact that in order to make them work, I always had to change something about myself.

I think that’s one of the reasons I love my Jesus so very much.

He’s been my closest companion through every tear…every moment of struggle…and every question of “why” I’ve thrown at Him. He’s held me when my heart broke over a relationship I just couldn’t make work, no matter how hard I tried. He’s comforted me when I decided to take that same heart and move on, even though the prospect of something else scared me to death.

And then He’s taken it a step further.

He’s never expected me to be perfect or look a certain way in order for Him to love me. He’s never cared if I behaved well in my down moments. He’s never judged me for dropping the Christian act and vomiting my true, nitty-gritty, deep-down feelings to Him. He’s never asked me to change, unless it was to my benefit.

For these reasons and many others, there is no one else who deserves my loyalty, love and commitment like my Jesus. Through the years He has singlehandedly convinced me that true love does exist, and it never makes me feel compromised or desperate.

So as I think today about love…life…and relationships…I write these words as a “thank you” to my Savior, Jesus Christ. I thank Him for showing me love and offering me acceptance. I thank Him for letting me be exactly who I am, mountainous flaws and all. I thank Him for looking past my poorly behaved moments and seeing that I still have worth and value as a person.

I can honestly say that I have never loved anyone like I love Him. He is more than all my dreams and desires and raw passions put together. I will never get over Him, and I never have to. He is the true and lasting lover of my soul.

Praise be to God, no one else will do.

This Ain't the Movies

A movie reviewer, I am not. In fact, the only other time I have ever blogged about something I saw on the big screen was in THIS BLOG, where I was clearly enthralled by the seismic roaring of a majestic Lion.

But I saw a movie trailer the other day that made me do an awful lot of thinking. So much so that I knew I had to blog about it.

It was about a girl who had big dreams for her life. She wanted the same thing any normal teenaged girl would want…a cute boyfriend, some piece of fame, and a few moments to feel beautiful. In the first 20 seconds of the trailer, her daydreaming of all these things was rudely interrupted by the sound of a frying pan hitting the wall after her mother tried to hit her with it and she ducked.

Welcome to reality, young daydreaming girl.

The next 2.5 minutes of the trailer was filled with scenes of violence, pain and raw emotion, as pieces of this young girl’s life was told. Some of her life scenes included physical and mental abuse…illiteracy…and unplanned pregnancies. (take 2) Hers was a life that didn’t stand a chance from the moment she was born, given her set of circumstances.

And all the while, she walked down the street with fashionable beads around her neck matching her outfit, dressing up the outside of a person facing hell on earth everyday she was breathing.

And I was reminded that this is life for many people. Just because we don’t know about it, doesn’t make it any less real.

Thinking about it reminded me of a scene I saw of a different kind, about a month ago. I was driving to the grocery store in a strip mall near my home when I passed by a floor to ceiling, glassed in Chinese restaurant. If there were blinds, they were pulled straight up because I could see straight in. The place was completely deserted except for one person…

A man in the last booth, with his head resting in his hands.

I sized him up to be the owner, if his big white apron was any clue. That and he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I guess he noticed he didn’t have any customers.

Since his head wasn’t welcoming visitors, I was forced to read his body language. Yeah, maybe he was just tired. It was possible. Or maybe he was thinking…

…What am I going to do?
…How will I make it?

Or even…

I. Need. Help.

I’m sure if a customer passed through his doors he would paste on a smile and sell them a sweet and sour chicken plate. But the demeanor he wore when he thought no one was looking probably told a much more accurate story of hopes, dreams, and goals…met with the reality of financial disappointments, stresses, and worries.

And if true, he wouldn’t be alone…

…because life is hard sometimes. Life is a struggle. Life is a difficult journey to find joy, stay grounded and keep pressing on when the deep end is filled with higher water than one can stand in.

Life is real. And real for some people means being turned away, rejected, left out, or broken down. Real for others means making something out of a life that doesn’t start well -- fighting to find a purpose beyond what their life card deck has dealt them.

Life is not a movie where the scene is shot and the actors go home to count their money and admire themselves in the mirror. Instead it is place where many people we pass by everyday in fashionable beads and big white aprons have burdens the size of Texas that we aren’t privy to.

And so…may I encourage you today to look twice at the people you pass by so automatically in your daily routine? May I encourage you to wonder what is going on behind their eyes? May I ask you to be willing to even care?

May the things that break the very heart of Jesus break our heart in the same way. The first step is simply, noticing.

I promise, you won’t have to look very far. Life scenes are taking place, everyday, all around you.

Choose Courage

Don’t let my girlie sequined jackets and poofed hair fool you. I am a wild child at heart.

I think that’s why I love the Old Testament so much. People in that time were nothing, if they weren’t wild. The passages I love the most document where people were kicking tail and taking names, all for the cause of Jesus Christ. Truthfully, there’s nothing I love more than a true story about someone who is totally jacked up for Jesus.

Someone, like Benaiah.

II Samuel 23 talks about him. He’s not all that famous, really. In fact, he only snagged himself about 3 verses, which is much fewer than some of the other guys with weird names.

In a nutshell, Benaiah was a wild child, warrior type. Among his heroic achievements? Chasing a lion into a snowy pit and killing it.

{There was also Benaiah son of Jehoiada, a valiant warrior from Kabzeel. He did many heroic deeds, which included killing two of Moab’s mightiest warriors. Another time he chased a lion down into a pit. Then, despite the snow and slippery ground, he caught the lion and killed it.” II Samuel 23: 20}

If that isn’t wild, I don’t know what is.

I used to wonder why among all the famous stories of the Bible, a story like that interested me so much. Being a former psych student, I analyzed what kind of a person I must be to be drawn to a story that involved killing, a ferocious animal, and the type of man who would lose his marbles for the time it took him to chase after that ferocious animal instead of running away from it, like any normal person would do. Clearly, either the man had some guts or needed heavy medication.

But after a few reflective moments over the past few days, I think I finally have the answer. {Drumroll, please.} I have determined that the reason I love this short story so much is because to me, what Benaiah did here represents the idea of COURAGE.

My journey these past 6 months has taught me much. The lessons I have learned about what kind of a person I want to be, what kind of a church I want to worship in, and what kind of a collective body of believers God has to work with right now, have colored literally everything in my life. I have learned that I cared more about what people thought than I used to admit. I have learned that I was much more traditional and set in my ways than I would have ever imagined. And I have come to the realization that very few people who call themselves followers of Jesus Christ actually have the courage to stand up for what is right.

Very. Few. People.

It is not a wonder to me why people who do not know Jesus Christ would not be drawn to Him by His alleged followers. What is far more curious to me is how in the world we EVER bring anyone to Him, as flawed as we are. Our tarnished selves seem to constantly get in the way of showing lost people what a perfect God can do in their lives. It’s a shame that we are His representatives, really. I’m not sure any earthly CEO would want people like us representing their company, with our fair-weather standards of conduct. Any reasonable believer will admit what we all know is true: most of us turn more people off to Jesus in our lifetime than we ever turn on to Him.

Honestly.

And so, when someone comes along and does something wildly courageous for God, it fascinates us in the same way a guy like Benaiah does.

When someone stands up for another believer being wrongly accused or slandered, even knowing that their courage will likely result in them becoming blacklisted or shunned, themselves…

...Or calls a spiritual issue what it is instead of tagging it with a better sounding, more p.c. term. {Pride, jealousy, anger, fear, manipulation and resentment are among the issues that get the MOST p.c. terms.}

...Or is willing to admit flaws and faults, so long as it will bring more people to Jesus…even at the risk that it will result in being judged, themselves, for their lack of perfection.

...Or gets uncomfortable long enough to tell someone about the life changing love of Jesus Christ…instead of waiting to be served at a church like a person going through a fast-food line, thinking their needs precede a soul that will burn in hell forever if they are never told the Truth.

These are the people who have courage. They are often not the most popular. But they are the ones who stand a chance at changing the world’s mind about who believers of Jesus Christ really represent.

Friends, when we begin to understand that there has only ever been one perfect person to walk this earth and that our loyalty should only ever be to Him…that our popularity is nothing more than a feel-good lie that rests in the hands of people who won’t always give a care…and that the process of becoming spiritually dead is no more than one compromise away...

That is the day we will choose to have courage.

The good news is that you may not have had courage yesterday, but you can choose to have it, today.

After all, I doubt Benaiah went to sleep one night thinking he would wake up, chase a lion into a snowy pit, and kill it.

The important thing was that one day, he chose courage. And his courage caused an inspired girl reading his story, thousands of years later, without a lot of warrior-like skills or experience in hunting...to want what he had.

Hold the ferocious animal…with or without the snowy pit...

I’ll take the courage.