On the outside,
You’re free to roam
On the outside
We found a home
On the outside
There’s more to see
On the outside
We choose to be

What I’m about to say may make no sense to anyone whatsoever but me, so I trust your forbearance until I have something more fun to share another day.

The past couple of years I’ve learned what it feels like to be on the D-List.  By that I mean there have been situations where I’ve been close enough to some Really Cool People to understand the perks and privileges Really Cool People are afforded and yet far enough away to not have any chance of being offered the same.  (And no, I don’t intend on elaborating any further than that.)  I’m being transparent here by saying that if I indulge my flesh, I can easily crave being a ‘somebody’ while equally believing the lie that I am a nobody.  Imagine the field day Satan has with that one.  Either a girl accepts the sentence of worthlessness or worse – decides to feverishly manipulate herself into a seat in which she was never invited to sit.    

This whole subject is hitting me afresh this week after a rejection of sorts.  I was forced to put myself out there in a way I was very uncomfortable with and was essentially sent away with a patronizing pat on the head.  I was reminded of who I am not and for a day or so, it really stung.  As in, I swore I would never take this kind of risk again, EVER, because who really wants to create a setup for insecurity when it’s so easy to go there without any help whatsoever? 

I’m reminded of Luke 14:8-11 and particularly love how it is worded in The Message:

^7-9He went on to tell a story to the guests around the table. Noticing how each had tried to elbow into the place of honor, he said, “When someone invites you to dinner, don’t take the place of honor. Somebody more important than you might have been invited by the host. Then he’ll come and call out in front of everybody, ‘You’re in the wrong place. The place of honor belongs to this man.’ Red-faced, you’ll have to make your way to the very last table, the only place left.

 ^10-11“When you’re invited to dinner, go and sit at the last place. Then when the host comes he may very well say, ‘Friend, come up to the front.’ That will give the dinner guests something to talk about! What I’m saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you’re going to end up flat on your face. But if you’re content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself.”

But if you are content to be yourself, you will become more than yourself.  Oh, how I love that. 

While I’ve processed the reality of not being worthy of being honored by this one particular ‘host’, the Lord has tenderly reminded me that I’m really more free without the restrictions that seat would force upon me.  At first I was tempted to bemoan not being considered ‘important’ enough.   I’ve instead come to realize that it is my choice to be not only content but happily make my home in this circle of influence Christ has marked out for me.  If there is to be a lane change, it has to be because He created a place of more effective ministry elsewhere and not because I elbowed my way into it.  What occurs to me about lanes is that the moves are always out – not up.  Even the Lord in his imagery never condoned our tendencies for ‘climbing the ladder’.  I believe He is more about accomplishing immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine horizontally rather than vertically.  As for the here and now, I am blessed – we are all blessed – with people all around us who love, need, appreciate, and adore the women we are – not the ones we imagine we want to be.

And not only that.  I’m pretty confident that many of the Perk and Privilege Crowd would be devastated to think that anyone would be embittered because they are simply trying to steward the seat to which they’ve been assigned.  What’s more, many of them have endured great heartache before garnering that status – a qualification not one of us would dare envy.  Perhaps they have just been so faithful in their God-given tasks that they deserve the better view.  {Yet another issue women face:  we want the reward without the work.}  And who knows the motivations behind the ones who deny us for other reasons, but I do know that if God has a plan for us (and He always does!) then no lack of popularity or excess of politics can keep us from it.  Imagine what happy women we would be be if we determined to enjoy our assignments rather than letting those green-eyed monsters of jealously and pride rob us of enjoying the company of delightful dinner companions sharing the same section of the table.   

So I’ve resolved the matter (for myself  if no one else) by coming to this conclusion:  None of us has nor ever will be held back from any place the Father has ordained for us.  Rather, I am persuaded we will always be lovingly and strategically placed.  We can either choose to dwell in rejection when we try to attain more than what we’ve been sovereignly given or receive our lots with the honor Our Host intended to bestow. 

Knowing this, may we all be become ‘more than ourselves’ by cheerfully choosing and comfortably roaming on  The Outside.

While were in Florida last week I took my Daily Light onto the patio to pray for a while.  I’ve talked to you before about this book but it is basically a Morning and Evening devo consisting of groupings of topical scriptures.   I could barely take my eyes off the ocean because it was uncharacteristically rough after a day of storms.  In fact, the double red flags were out warning swimmers to stay out of the water.  Before I opened to the day’s reading, I already had in mind the many places in the Word that speak of the Lord holding the oceans in the hollow of His hand and how He had set boundaries for them. 

So, it shouldn’t have been any surprise when one of the first scriptures for that day read, by no accident I’m certain, the following:

²⁷ I was there when he set the heavens in place,
       when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep,

 ²⁸ when he established the clouds above
       and fixed securely the fountains of the deep,

 ²⁹ when he gave the sea its boundary
       so the waters would not overstep his command,
       and when he marked out the foundations of the earth.

 ³⁰ Then I was the craftsman at his side.
       I was filled with delight day after day,
       rejoicing always in his presence,

 ³¹ rejoicing in his whole world
       and delighting in mankind.

~Proverbs 8:27-31

These verses are spoken from the mouth of Wisdom – she who beckons us to seek her as we would gold.  I’ve never quite resonated with that thought because I don’t consider myself a gold-seeker.  In an attempt to attach some relevance, I replaced gold with things in my life I perceived as valuable only to find I had sought them in ignorance when disappointed in the end.  Looking at it this way forces me to evaluate the mental energy I spend on vain pursuits and either just stop it or make certain that I spend that much effort or more on the seeking of sweet sophia.  

 The thing that occurred to me while watching those waves is this:  The Lord never promised our own personal seas wouldn’t rage, He just said they would not ‘overstep His command’.  I know nothing of oceanography but it doesn’t take a marine biologist to know that a tempest produces a cleansing.   To prove the point, when we walked the beach after the rains we strolled upon a dead blow fish.  Even in its lifeless state it was cute as can be.  Cute but deadly.  Blow fish are highly poisonous and no number of Nemo movies depicting them as harmless aquarium pets will change that fact.  

Girls, there are times when the Lord is obliged to work with hurricane force.  I have to be honest and say there are days when I want to ask Him to lay off for just a minute.  For just a stinkin’ minute.  But the thing is, we all have blowfish of Arrogance, Unforgiveness, Unfaithfulness, and/or Attitude (just to name a few) that He means to purge from the depths of our hearts.  We may not even realize they are there until He shakes things up a bit and brings them to the surface.   The seemingly innocent things He brings to mind may even seem cute and harmless until He gives us eyes to see them for the poison they are. 

The day before we left Florida the double red flags were taken down.  The cleansing was over, the calm had come.   No matter how high and hard those waves roared they could go no farther for no longer than the Lord ordained.  What I noticed then was the most beautiful thing - a rim of crystal clear transparency where only the previous day had churned all manner of debris.  No poisonous critters –  just peace.

No matter the state of the ocean, underneath there runs a current of Wisdom driven by the Father who delights when His children see and understand.  Here’s praying we’ll be women who aren’t slow to get it.

We worked so hard on making that house our home. We had closed on my birthday in July of 1998 and had it on the market by August of 1999. It was the first place we had purchased completely on our own and it was contentment. After our rocky marriage being restored, Luke’s call to ministry, and four years in college I believed we were finally in a place of stability. As with all things ministry, locational security is not exactly a word that God allows us to wrap our hearts around. It was just the beginning of many lessons in that area.

So, knowing this decision was the right thing even though it hurt so badly, we sold, packed the U-Haul, and pulled out of the driveway that December day. We’d determined we would get moved to campus and then shortly thereafter return home to the in-law’s for Christmas while we waited for the January semester to begin.

My first order of duty when we move – I say when, not if, because we’ve moved 17 times – is always to get the children settled first. The two oldest boys had to share a bedroom and were currently in love with Buzz and Woody of Toy Story. We bought the comforters and tried to make the tiny space comfortable for them. My oldest didn’t adjust well. He had a comparatively huge John Deere room in our old house and was completely confused over all the change of scenery. He missed his tractors. He missed his family. He began crying a lot. The more he cried, the more I cried. And of course, there was the baby crying. As loathe as I am to quote from The Shack, it was my own Great Sadness though I can assure you God didn’t show up in my kitchen as a black woman. But that’s not the point.

I’m telling you all this because prior to our returning home for the Christmas holidays, Boy One had left a sippy cup full of milk under his bed. You can imagine what happened next. It leaked all in the carpet and we didn’t have a clue until the tiny bedroom was reaking. I scrubbed and cried (shocker) and scrubbed some more. For some reason, that awful smell just sent me over the edge of what was already an emotionally overwhelming time. Packing up and leaving the confines of The Cave (as we not-so-lovingly referred to the two-windowed apartment) came not a moment too soon. I soaked the floor in Febreze and baking soda, cracked the window, and got the heck out of Dodge already dreading the day we’d have to come back.

Fast forward to last week. I bought a gallon of milk and didn’t realize I had forgotten to take it out of the car. It was in there for three days. I jumped in the Suburban to take the kids to ball practice and that unmistakeable, unforgettable smell greeted me. I opened the hatch, saw the swollen container that had spewed almost half the milk into the carpet, and was immediately transported back to those days in that apartment. Isn’t it funny how that can happen? How a smell, a song, and/or a television show can take us back to a specific moment in time and even put us in the same mood? Huge tears swelled up in my eyes. Boy Three (who was the crying baby in NC) saw me and couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly so distraught. I chanted to myself, “do not cry, do not cry, DO NOT STINKIN’ CRY!”. Do not cry over this spilled milk.

It’s interesting to me how something so insignificant can mean so much now. What’s the use in being unhappy about something that can not be undone? But here’s the question: Would I want it undone? The spilled milk of our time in North Carolina is the place where my ministry was born. One of the things the Lord taught me in those days is that we can either sit on our hands and bemoan the trials and hurts that come upon us, or we can get busy cleaning it up. If that spill of loneliness and dare I say it – depression – had not occurred, God could not have taught me to redeem it through the power of talking with Him and devouring the truth of His counsel.

And here’s the biggest thing: God will only cleanse in partnership with us. He’s given the Baking Soda of His Word and Prayer, but Child WE, WE, WE have to be willing to apply it. To read the Scripture, to talk to our Father and then for heaven’s sake, DO what He says is best for us – even when it hurts!

It takes dogged determination not to dwell in those places of sadness. Don’t wait for a knight in shining armor or a bff or a better situation to rescue you. Rarely do our pains self-resolve. Do you think my car is going to smell better just because I wish it? Or if I wait long enough suddenly it will smell new again? The answer is NO. It takes work our our part as well, girls. Join with God in seeking out what He would show you when the milk is spilled. Only then will the stink be neutralized – for His Glory and our Peace.

Still Scrubbing,

Lisa

p.s. Baking soda is very effective for spoiled milk – in case you needed to know..:)

The past few days, melancholy has given way to indignation. Not towards a person or race, lest you misunderstand me, but towards Satan who seems to never have much trouble finding those who will do his bidding. I’ve been pondering the injustice of the Holy Week and the Jewish establishment who broke all of their own laws to destroy the One who had never violated a single one. I’ve been thinking about the alliance between the chief priests and the hated Romans who found a common bond in wanting to see this Man dead. Their motivation? Convenience and Control. Perhaps the saddest thing is that all involved truly believed they were justified in doing whatever necessary to maintain both.

Things haven’t changed much have they?

The thing I will never get over, and I mean never, is that not once did Christ open His mouth to defend Himself. The only time He spoke was to confirm that He was who He claimed to be. Had he reminded the crowd of the laws being broken, had He called on them to rescue Him, had his earthly father been alive to begin a Maccabean-inspired revolt (pure speculation here), then no doubt all Hell would have broken loose. And I do mean that in the most literal and spiritual of ways. But instead, His silence assured His death while sealing our eternal life.

It occurs to me that if we follow a desirable command, our response isn’t obedience but compliance. If you say to me, “Lisa, come to the table, it’s time to eat!”, I’m totally there with no argument whatsoever. There’s willingness at work in my response. But God saying, “Lisa, this thing is unfair, it doesn’t make sense, and it will hurt like crazy but for your good and My Glory I’m asking you to do it anyway”, requires obedience – not compliance. And God never said, “Comply with my commands.” He said ‘obey’ which implies I may not always want to do what He is asking.

The only comfort I find is in knowing that Jesus didn’t want to do what God asked either. The proof is in Mark 14:35-36, “And He went a little beyond them, and fell to the ground and began to pray that if it were possible, the hour might pass Him by. And He was saying, “Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me; yet not what I will, but what You will.” Ultimately Jesus obeyed. Somehow He was able to proclaim, “It is finished!!” rather than, “This isn’t fair!”

And that is the place where I rest and the point of all my rambling: Sin and pain and injustice were the required mix for this to be an act of obedience rather than compliance with a more desirable scenario. And at the time Jesus was walking this thing out as an example to us, no one knew. No one yet understood the price being paid. And so in essence, even though the first glory was a private one between Father and Son, God was fully satisfied by His Son’s willingness to endure the most horrific death imaginable rather than one relatively quicker and less painful.

When I am tempted to cry foul, like Christ, I have to look through the injustice to see what obedience I’m being called to on the other side. Even if no one knows the cost, God does. And I have to believe the more it hurts and the more it goes against everything natural in me to do what He has asked, the more it glorifies and satisfies Him when I am sanctified by acting in accordance with His commands. If the thing isn’t hard, it really doesn’t count for much, does it?

So, let’s decide. Obedience or Compliance? Lord, please make us to understand the refining value of the one instead of expecting the ease of the other. And, may it be that we experience a full measure of joy in both.

Praying you and your family experience a wonderful celebration of Christ’s Resurrection. He is worthy!!!

Hosanna!

It has been my personal, constant prayer over the past months to not only work out my salvation based on the love of Christ towards me, but to be able to attach a full range of emotion in the act of returning worship to Him and serving others. My faults are legion, not the least of which is my being a book nerd who often chokes on the information that is desperately trying to journey from head to heart. Considering also that I’m not a skip-through-the-daisies-holding-hands kind of girl, full engagement of all the sympathies hasn’t come easily for me. However, I don’t think I singularly decided one day that I would like to have my compassions ignited. I believe this is a continued work of the Spirit to mold me into the woman He desires. He desires my delight. And I desire to be delighted. Not in a superficial, blubber-at-every-Hallmark-commercial kind of way. Rather, in a way that all of my heart, mind, and spirit are equally and fully employed where all things Christ are concerned. I don’t want a chance to view the Dead Sea Scrolls to excite me more than seeing and participating in the life of one who has been transformed by them. I can say the God-words to Him and to you and I can mean them, but I want to feel them.

Have I lost you yet?

My reading this morning took me to John 15 and the oft-quoted passage on the Vine and the Branches. Verse Five particularly resonated with me, “I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.“

As I prayed through the relevance of this verse, it occurred to me that what I desire is a Holy Possession. What I want is to be enveloped by Christ but also indwelled. On one hand I don’t want you to see me, but God. On the other, I want to be changed in such a way so that I look like Him either way. For lack of a better visual, I thought of the Exorcist-type movies I used to watch before I got some good sense and how the unholy possession would completely arrest the entirety of its victim. Shouldn’t a Holy Possession have the same effect, but hopefully with a decidedly more lovely result?

How do desire, delight, and possession relate you ask? I wondered the same thing. That is until I remember the words of Philippians 2:13 which say, “It is God who causes us to will and to act according to His good pleasure.” It is the Holy Possession of God causing me to desire my mind, body, and spirit to be fully taken over by Him in equal measure. And that is for His good pleasure of seeing me walk in a way that doesn’t just see black and white, but is willing to use thoughtfulness, sensitivity, and mercy as a foundational passion for the things He has called me to do.

John 15:5 ends by saying, “Apart from Him, I can do nothing.” The word nothing literally means, “not even one single thing.” Not even. I can’t even get out of bed in the morning to please Him apart from our mutual agreement to abide in one another. I don’t have the power to be the woman He envisions lest He is the one functioning through my flawed will. What a God we serve who would want such a thing. Who considers us worthy to be joined in such a way. It makes me want to cry.

Which hopefully is a good sign He is answering my prayers.

How do you handle Disappointment? Disillusionment? Catastrophe? Flat-out Pain? What do you do when that roaring lion Satan pounces on you and has you lying flat of your back? I know what I’ve done. I’ve laid there believing if I just stayed still that maybe I could avoid the deadly blow that must surely be the only thing left after the beating I’d taken. So in effect, Satan’s accomplished exactly what he intended by incapacitating me to the point of uselessness.

The good thing I’ve found about lying flat of my back is that, if I’ll open my eyes, the heavens are there waiting to pour out wisdom and strength. A huge dose of both is found in 2 Corinthians 6:3-7:

“Giving no cause for offense in anything, so that the ministry will not be discredited, but in everything commending ourselves as servants of God, in much endurance, in afflictions, in hardships, in distresses, in beatings, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in sleeplessness, in hunger, in purity, in knowledge, in patience, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in genuine love, in the word of truth, in the power of God; by the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and the left.”

Paul had just finished telling the Corinthians in 4:11 that he was “constantly delivered over to death for for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in the mortal flesh”. Girls, I’ve been delivered over to some death but the question we have to ask ourselves is what are we going to do once it’s been handed to us? What are we going to do when we are down for the count?

The answer?

We rise. We always rise.

I want you to read the passage I just quoted and notice the Paul’s purposeful shift in perspective. He begins by telling the Corinthians all the horrors he has endured in what should have been his death but then goes on to explain what rising looks like. He died in affliction, in hardship, in great pain but he rose in purity, in the Holy Spirit and in genuine love. Why? So the ministry would not be discredited. So the death of Christ would be manifested in his willful decision to live even though no one would have blamed him if he stayed on the ground.

Rising is hard and rising in the Spirit is even harder. When a person in your life is the one who knocked you flat, our first reaction is to come up swinging. When calamity comes, our nature says we should shrink back in bitterness. When too much time has passed on our prayers, we wallow in impatience and doubt. And to what end? A blight on the reputation of Jesus Himself who promises rest for the weary, strength for the journey, and light for the way. Do not be the one whose fall causes offense, dear sister. There is more than you at stake.

Instead, look in your hands. In them are your ‘weapons’ of righteousness. A mean left hook of Prayer and the powerful right jab of Truth. Fight back! There’s no more time for wimpy Christianity. No one ever accused me of being the queen of mercy and compassion but today, maybe you need someone to tell you to sternly to get off your backside and get back to this thing called LIVING. Don’t you dare keep lying there in self-pity and defeat when your God has called you to bear His Name! {And I say that with all tenderness. Truly!}

If you’re still breathing, then “Behold, Now is the Acceptable Time” (2 Cor. 6:2) to ask the one who raised Christ Jesus from the dead to work that same energy in you, dear one.

And when He does (and I know He will because He promised – 2 Cor 4:14),

You Rise.

“Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice? On the heights along the way, where the paths meet, she takes her stand.” ~ Proverbs 8:1-2

I know each of us has different things by which the Holy Spirit shapes our walks. He’s been hammering on me about finding my strength in Him as I daily, rather moment by moment, present myself a living sacrifice.

The thing about sacrifices is they are painful. Nothing was ever slaughtered that didn’t get slashed and bloodied. (sorry for being so graphic this early in the a.m.) Do I eat it or not eat it? Buy it or not buy it? Go or not go? Serve or not serve? Have that conversation or not have it? In each one of these things, there’s a decision to be made. There’s a crossroads and waiting for us there is a woman called Wisdom.

She was the first of God’s works and appointed before eternity and God graciously says, “Ask and I will give of her freely to YOU.” To me. It bends the mind that the God of the Universe would set my feet on a path and when it is time to choose the right or the left, He will grace me with the same wisdom by which He formed the oceans and created mankind. I can KNOW what He wants from me. All I have to do is ask.

But in the asking is also the obligation to obey. Sometimes we don’t ask because we don’t want to know. May it never be! Though it kills us, my prayer for myself and for you today is that we will answer simply, ‘Yes, Lord.’ Even if I walk away from this thing limping, I choose You.

May every split in the road you face today be met with Wisdom! Be blessed, my dear family and friends!