No Time to Spare

Busy, that evil four letter word. Busy and I are on a first name basis and if I’m honest it is a love/hate relationship. I love to do so many things, but I hate when that love gets in the way of the people I love even more. I believe busyness is an epidemic. Everywhere you look you see burned out people. You walk into the grocery store and there are entire coolers dedicated to drinks for the busy person, ones to keep you awake, put you to sleep, diminish stress, give you energy, retain your memory and who knows what else There are many things cause stress but I bet you a million dollars if you got to the base of much stress you would find busyness. Now all the people who know me, if they continued to read this far, just checked the top of the page wondering is this Lisa? Did someone hack her account? Right, so I guess I could call myself a bit of an expert on these things. 

Yesterday however, I saw busyness from yet a new and even more disturbing way. It was a harmless comment, a compliment actually but it has haunted me ever since.

I was helping at a funeral for a God fearing, wonderful man in my church. He was an older man ready to move to his eternal home in Heaven. I was setting food out on the table when the funeral director and his assistant came into the Fellowship Hall and he got this very surprised look on his face and ran over to the table and knocked on the plates. He exclaimed, “Wow, real plates, real plates!” and his friend countered “yea and real table cloths.” He turned to me and saw the bewildered look on my face and obviously felt the need to explain.

“Churches just don’t do this anymore. I never see real plates, than people have to wash them!” His friend added “The same goes for table cloths, these are beautiful.”

Could we have really gotten this busy???? We can’t offer two hours of time to ensure the family who has lost a loved one has a beautiful place to grieve and share memories?

I know you are thinking “Lisa, it is just plates” but do you see it is really a sign of the something a lot bigger. It is not about the plates, in fact for my funeral, paper plates would be perfect, it would be symbolic of my life, I LOVE paper plates, I hate washing dishes. Beside then there would be more time for a party! However to me in this instance there are two issues.

1.       We are too busy when we skimp on the things that matter and then pretend like they don’t. “It’s just plates” It’s just plastic cloths, who will notice?” We get busy and we make substitutions that cost us our relationships, our integrity, our humanity. Okay so I have taken paper plates to losing all humanity. Maybe a tiny bit dramatic.

2.       We have lost our respect for the seniors in our life. I walked back to the kitchen mulling over what the funeral director just told me. I silently wondered why real plates were so rare. As I entered the kitchen I found my answer. There stood my answer, the lady who had planned the entire funeral, decorated and readied the food was a lovely senior herself, with curved fingers as arthritis had taken its toll. The reason we still have plates is that we still have seniors planning the funerals in our church. What will happen as they slowly pass away? For their funerals I am afraid we too will begin using paper plates.  I have much to say on this but I will save it for another post. (I know you can’t waitJ)

Trust me, I fully recognize that as I point my finger at society, at you, I realize that all other fingers are pointing right back at me. I am the worst culprit of all. This was the first funeral I have worked at in my church. I think I was too busy for all the others.

I hate resolutions, they are just a reminder to me of my great capability to start something but not finish.  But this year, I am going to make a resolution. If you are older like me you might remember when Nancy Regan started her drug free campaign; “Just Say No” was the tagline. Well, this is going to be my resolution; I am going to “Just Say No.” I am going to say no; no to things that rob me of my relationships and no to things that steal respect away from those who deserve it. I am going to refuse to allow society and culture to tell me that I need to do more and move faster, and miss life along the way. 

I pray that God helps me in this process. I pray that He give me eyes to see others, that He gives me a mind to discern important from unimportant, feet to do only what He calls me to and hands to wash lots and lots of dishes.

Go to Nineveh!

Go to Nineveh. That was the challenge.  Do something, something a little outside your comfort zone.  This was the challenge posed to the awesome ladies I have the privilege of hanging out with every Wednesday evening.  We were doing a study on Jonah and we were challenged to step outside our safe little bubbles and do something for someone else.  After weeks of ideas, prayer and deliberation we decided to partner with a ministry that serves the homeless in Minneapolis.

As a group we decided that we would make 200 meals to deliver to the homeless in Minneapolis. A few days before we were to make our trip, the leader of the organization In Love, Word and Deed talked to me about gathering some coats. She told me that on her last visit they had to turn many away without a coat. She thought they turned away as many as 100 people. A huge shadow of doubt cast over my heart. How in the world would we gather enough coats to make a difference in only a few short days? We talked about it the Wednesday before and as a group we decided we would do the best we could to spread the word and let God do the rest.  And WOW does He love to work in those situations. On the day we gathered to go the kids counted the coats they came to a final tally, 46 men’s coats and 41 women’s coats. I was impressed but then one of the girl’s noticed a pile behind the boxes and there laid 13 more coats. 100 COATS!

We pulled up to a shelter downtown Minneapolis and began to unload our boxes to set up on tables. I could NOT believe how quickly people began to line up. There were men and women of every race and every age.  People began to pour in.  There were enough ladies at the tables so I just began to walk around the room, taking in the situation. I noticed a man asleep across some folding chairs. A couple sat holding hands in the back corner of the room. I began to see the faces. These were people, real people with emotion, stories, thoughts and cares….. just like me.  Growing up my mom used to always say to me “Remember every person is someone’s sister or son or daughter.” I have always tried to see people through that lens. This time though, it was different the people standing before me weren’t just someone’s brother or daughter. They were me.  If I am honest with myself I recognize that I have made many mistakes and took many wrong turns. I am fortunate to have family and friends who have helped when I have needed it, who have loved me and carried me through but where would I be without them?

The truth is we are all just a few choices or a different childhood or a death or a job loss away.  Aren’t we? One man I talked with told me about his childhood with 7 brothers and 4 sisters and his parents who weren’t really parents at all. I silently wonder, why not me? As his story unfolded I began to recall the many, many blessings I have been given.  Not because I deserved them, not because I earned them. In fact I still have no reason to explain them.  No reason other than grace.

I was challenged to go and make a difference for someone else.  I am not sure that happened but I know for sure they made a difference to me. 

I will be going back. I will bring more coats and God will provide them. I will again be reminded of my many blessings and the unearned grace that has been given to me. I will see people not only as someone’s loved one but as myself.  I am no better, no different, no more loved and no more worthy of God’s love.

I Trust You

The list continues to grow daily on all the things autism has taught me. I will not always like autism but I will definitely learn valuable life lessons from it. My son has autism however my son is not autism. He has autism just like he has a few little freckles and some adorable dimples, he has autism. He sees life through a slightly different set of lenses than the rest of the world. Many times I find this incredibly challenging and beg God for a special set of contacts that might give me a glimpse into Ben’s world. And every once in a while God gives me exactly what I ask for.

A few weeks ago Ben had to have a colonoscopy and upper endoscopy. It took a week of preparation, a new diet, some laxatives, fasting and we won’t even go into drinking the giant jug of “prep”. Ben did each step without a grumble or complaint. The time came for the procedure and I reminded Ben to cooperate and do as the doctors told him. When he groggily came out of “surgery” he began telling me that they had to poke him 8 times to get the IV in. Astonished I asked him if he said anything or told them to stop he said “Mom you told me to listen and do what they told me to so I did.” I almost didn’t believe him until the anesthesiologist stopped in to check on Ben and his “8 pokes.” He commented that he had never seen a kid just sit and be quiet through all that. I just stared at the floor “he was doing what I told him” I thought.

Ben recovered quite well and wasn’t fazed much by all the excitement. A few days later it occurred to me, “Ben has never asked about the test, not about results or how it went.” So I decided to ask him, “Ben you never asked about the test or what they found.” He turns to me and smiles with those adorable little dimples showing “Well mom, I trust you.” Drawing out the last part as if to say, “silly little you, don’t you know?”

My first thought was “Child, you trust me way too much.” After a few moments though God was able to break through and teach me yet another lesson. “Lisa do you trust me that much?” Ooohhh I didn't want to answer that question. When I undergo tests and trials I question God. “Why God, this doesn’t make sense. What purpose will this serve? Why now? Why him? Why me?” I grumble and complain and question God’s plan or purpose for me. I am quite sure that my plan is better or more efficient and I am quick to tell God how and when things should be done.

God and I have been talking a lot about autism. I hate that Ben has to struggle each day. I hate that I don’t always know what to do for him or how to help. I question that I am what he needs. Yet God continues to use all things for good if I trust Him. And today God used Ben to teach me that I don’t always have to understand EVERYTHING. Some days I can stop my grumbling and questioning and look up and say “I trust you God, yea it stinks, yea I am uncomfortable but I know you love me and I know you will do what is best for me.”

Let it go.

Today I attended church. Wow I know, right? Well due a long list of extenuating circumstances that I won’t bore you with I hadn’t actually been in the church sanctuary for a worship service for a long time. I can see how when you take a hiatus from church and go MIA for sometime you can begin to think, “I am pretty good, I worship God in my car, (where I don’t have to hurt anyone else’s ears) I have lots of supportive friends, I talk to God almost continuously (I am sure He might like a break) I read my Bible and serve others when I can. Oh yea and I don’t drink, swear, do drugs or dance.” Okay so the last part is simply because I can’t actually dance not because I have an issue with it.

I walked into church and I see the words “Let it go” and I think (sorry Pastor Scott) Let it Go? I have been a Christian for 21 years I have heard the sermon and given the sermon myself at least a few times. Let go and let God. I have to be honest, I decided 21 years ago that I wanted to live my life as Jesus did, I wanted to let Him have my life. I have never regretted that decision, the single most important decision I have ever made. However, that life can sometimes grow stale, (thanks to our own human nature) we hear the same messages, read the same verses and sing the same songs and we can begin to wonder, is this it God? Is this “The Life” you were meaning?

For me a large part of those 21 years have been operated on crisis mode, times when just standing seemed to take more effort than I could muster up. A time when “Let it go” wasn’t just a nice greeting card saying but a motto that I had to live my life by. The last few years although have come with the normal life challenges but no major catastrophes. “Let it go” has simply lost its meaning, let go of what? What to make for dinner? What sweater to wear tomorrow? Sure there are some tougher ones, How can I help Ben? What will make his life a little easier? But… “Let it go” simply isn’t the standard in my life that it once was.

So I finally get to go to church and what do I hear? Let it go. Really God? This is what you have for me? So I sat, I found gum in my purse and checked to see if anyone texted me. (I know I am really proving my shallowness, Drew has always said I am WAY to open of a book) As the sermon came to a close there was going to be some time for quiet prayer reflection. Why is it that 2 minutes of quiet time can feel like 2 hours? Especially when God has something to say and your not really willing to hear? At the end of the prayer time we were instructed to walk forward and place a rock in the bucket at the front of the stage. Symbolizing what we were choosing to let go of. I wondered what it the world I needed to let go of.

Then as I sat there, piles of worry began to come over me, in-escapable fears just couldn’t be tucked away. Thoughts that had been stalking me over the past several weeks. I have been recently questioning my decision to go back to school, wondering if this was the right time, right choice? I have been fretting over my plate being too full, wanting to speak more and work less. I have been worried over Ben, his future, his disability, his schooling, his health. I have been fearful lately that my children might feel abandoned by me, that I haven’t fulfilled what they need in a mother. I have felt guilty that the house has been messy and the carpets need cleaning, I feel terrible when the best meal I can muster is micro-waved French toast sticks and a gallon of syrup. I should go all organic and throw out sugar and preservatives I know. I want my husband to know he is my priority but I silently come to terms with the fact that actions speak louder then words. I glance around the church and see the faces of at least 3 people that I didn’t email or call back, what will think about me now? I should be a better friend, daughter, sister, wife, mother….. I am afraid, afraid I will fail.

It was in this very moment I heard the words “Let it go”. But God, this is so minor, nothing has happened to me, no major setbacks or crisis. “Let it go.” But God I am afraid… “Let it go.” But God….. what if I fail? “Let it go.”

I stood and carried my rock to the front and let it go. As I returned to my seat I was flooded with the reminders that God is bigger than my worries, bigger than my regrets, bigger than my weaknesses, bigger than my failures.

Reminded that….

His grace is sufficient.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

Lost From God's Love

Four short words. I was speaking recently and at the end of my talk I ask for prayer requests, reminding those in attendance if it weren’t for those who diligently prayed me through I wouldn’t be standing before them. Since I can’t go back and pray for each of those people I pay it forward by praying for anyone who allows me the privilege. This has been one of speaking’s biggest blessings. I get to pray for jobs, homes, children and quite often I receive an email or card reporting of God’s provision and answers to their prayers. But once in a while I receive a heart aching request that sticks with me long after prayers are said. This was one of them.

“Lost from God’s Love” was scribbled across the card that had been folded in half. The person who handed it to me I remembered as her eyes never met my mine, she quietly slid me the card and escaped the room as if I might chase after her. I wish I had.

Her four words keep echoing in my mind. I want to tell her how she is not lost from God’s love, not now, not ever. I want to tell her, nothing she could do, nothing she could say can keep her lost from God’s love. I want to tell her to let “it” go whatever “it” is to the Master’s hands. I want to tell her she is loved.

It sticks with me so because I remember that feeling. I remember thinking, “God’s love must not be for me.” Look at my life, if He truly loved me, wouldn’t He have protected me? Besides I had been so angry with Him, I had made so many mistakes there is just not room for me in His love. I was tired of cliché’s and Sunday School answers, wondering…. “Where is God right now?” I too believed I was lost from God’s love.

I began to question God. “How could you love me? How could you continue to allow this to happen to me? I have been used and tossed away, how will You God be any different?” Oh the ache even as I type these questions. It is that deep pain you experience when you truly come face to face with your own existence. When the noise fades, the drink wears off; the friends leave and family betray you, leaving you with only you. And God.

My husband recently compared this to vomiting (I know gross huh, just like a guy) you know you feel so much pain and you hold it in and hold it in until you can’t bear it anymore and you have to let go. It is messy and uncomfortable, (not to mention disgusting) but once it is all out you begin to realize you feel better. All of a sudden the stuff you have been hanging on to, the stuff you have been stuffing is gone and you can begin to heal.

When I started to ask questions, when I started to get real, get real with myself and get real with God, He could bring in the healing. When I quit telling others how good I was, when I admitted my mess. When I got out the stuff and finally admitted I alone was not enough. God began to come in and bring in healing, wholeness and a peace I couldn’t even begin to imagine before. He began to show me His love, His plan, His grace. He showed me that people were going to let me down (just as I have let many down) yet He was NEVER going to leave me, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. He was never going to abuse me or make me walk alone.

This evening as I prepare for bed for about the thousandth time today I lift her up, I ask God to place His hand on her, I ask God to show Himself to her in a mighty way. Since I am guessing He is already doing this I ask God more importantly to give her eyes to see it and a heart to hear it. I pray that she will soon realize that has never been and never will be “Lost from His love”.

Time Flies....

I did it, I didn’t think I would ever do it but…. I did it.

It all started at my local grocery store. I was walking aimlessly down an aisle, the soup aisle I believe, when a little girl crashed her child size cart into my knees. I looked up only to see her poor mother at the very end of herself. In addition to the little Evil Kinevil with the tiny shopping cart there was a second tiny little cherub who interrupted her screaming just long enough to check me out. The exhausted mother was trying to balance herself in between inserting the pacifier into the littlest one and reigning in her little race car driver. It was then that I knelt down and looked that little one in the eye and said…. “I think you are the fastest grocery shopper here, I think you should enter grocery shopping Olympics” the sweet little peanut looked so proud. Then I glanced up at her mother, sighed and said “it will all be over before you know it, just savor these days.”
Immediately I thought “Just savor these days? Did I actually just say that?” The woman just returned my smile with the most phony looking grin and nodded “uh huh”. See I knew what she was thinking. I had been given that line a few times. Okay let’s be honest a few hundred times, it was usually after my son dumped the pyramid of canned corn over or when my daughter melted to the floor after getting her dum-dum sucker request denied. I remember standing in the middle of the grocery store thinking, “I just want to shop ALONE!” And now here I am shopping alone.

I know I shouldn't be such a sap. My kids still live at home and still drive me crazy just in new and exciting ways. For example, this morning my daughter was digging through her backpack looking for some lost thing on the bottom of her backpack when she suddenly realizes she forgot to put in her favorite earrings and this was of course about 3 minutes before we had to leave. I told her we would find them this afternoon, but she sobbed, “if you don’t put them in now my ears will close up and its soccer now so I can’t get them re-pierced and then I will never get to have earrings again!!!!” Seriously? The drama of it all. Next thing I knew I was having a mini-debate on how long it takes for earring holes to close up. It would have taken less time to find the silly earrings, put them in and drive her to school and back.

Later I explain my morning drama (the earrings were only the beginning) with a friend over coffee and she looks over at me, sighs with tears in her eyes and says “just wait soon they will be leaving for college and you will be wishing you were still fighting over earrings.” “Really” I was thinking, “you are really gonna play that card?” If she hadn’t look so sad, I would have dumped my latte right over her head.

Sometimes it can be so hard to see the blessing of what you are in and so annoying when others try to point it out to you. I can see the blessing of a little girl in a grocery store because the little hands I have held seem to be growing quicker then I would like. The truth is, time while your in it can sometimes seem to stand still but time when you look back on it whizzes by in far too much of a hurry.

So as hard as it can be sometimes, try, just try, to take a big deep breath and just enjoy the moment you are in.

Remember that thing my littlest one was searching for in her backpack? When I returned home today, I found it. She left it on the stairs for me.

The God I Almost Never Knew

Thanks to George Burns, for many years I pictured God as an old wrinkled up man with a cigar hanging from his lip and a glass of scotch in his hand. I suppose that dates me a bit. This was my earliest view but certainly not my only memory.

In my early years I envisioned God as the man upstairs, grandpa on the rocking chair, the booming voice from above and this was only the beginning. I was creative imaginative girl so I was always picturing Him in some new light.


My childhood though consisted of many happy memories, was tarnished by a selfish, abusive father, who in my adolescence abandoned me. As I grew older, my image of God was greatly influenced by the image of my father.


As an angry young teen, I envisioned God to be disinterested. I assumed He had a plan for this big world and if a couple of people were hurt or thrown to the side to accomplish this plan, oh well. Details of life and certainly little girls were of no interest to Him. None of it really mattered though because I was certain as soon as God discovered the real me (as if He didn’t know) He would likely abandon me anyway.


Gradually I would hear others talk about God. How wonderful and loving He was. I heard children sing “Jesus loves me this I know” and I would grimace. Soon it occurred to me that these two views of God could not exist at the same time. People were telling me God was loving,  but experience was telling me something entirely different. The only conclusion I could make was that God didn’t exist at all. It was the only thing that made any sense to me.


Living this way was lonely and emotionally draining. I felt so ugly and broken. I would look in the mirror and wonder “who would ever want this?” I was insecure and fragile when I met Terri. She was everything I wasn’t confident, smart, pretty and a Christian. Slowly she broke through my shell and showed me how to be loved unconditionally. You wouldn’t think a person would need to be shown this, I can’t really explain why, but I did. After months of asking and months of refusing I finally gave in to Terri’s invitation to go to church.


I went somewhat begrudgingly really only to get her off my back. I knew what to expect at church. Judgment, shame, guilt and lies were come to equate church to me. Instead I was greeted with grace, mercy and love. I am not exactly sure who I met that day, what the preacher spoke about or what songs were sung. I only know that it was the first time in a long time that I hadn’t felt alone. If only for a few minutes I felt a like a small blanket of peace had been draped over my shoulders. I wasn’t sure what it was but I knew I wanted to feel it again.


Eventually Terri won out and I went back to her church. I started to learn more and more about God. It began to occur to me, maybe this God exists after all. Here was the trouble, the more I learned the more conflicted I began to feel. The peace that I had experienced at first was slowly trickling away. One morning, our Sunday School teacher quoted Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I was so angry, “really God? What is my plan, Where is my hope? How could you let this happen to me? Where were you? Where are you?” I assumed I wasn’t who He was talking about in that Jeremiah verse. It seemed that once again I had been abandoned.


I was angry and I grew disinterested in church. It wasn’t long before one of these new friends checked in on me “Where had I been? What was going on?” I remember feeling like I might explode. I started pouring out everything, my broken dreams and my shattered heart. At the end I looked her in the face and said, “If this was God’s plan for me, I wish I had never been born at all.” I wept in her arms for what seemed like hours. Finally she turned to me and said “Lisa I would never be foolish enough to pretend to have all the answers, but I do know this one thing. God the Creator of the universe looked down and saw what was happening to His little child, you Lisa, and wept. Your dad made a terrible, terrible choice but God’s plan was STILL to give you a hope and a future.”

God wept? God wept over me? Are you kidding me? I had assumed so many things about God and none of them had been true. Not one. God is a loving God. He has a plan for me, a hope and a future. I had questioned “Where was God?” I know as sure as I know the sun will rise tomorrow that God was right there next to me, holding my hand. He was holding me, loving me and weeping.

This was the God I almost never knew. Thankfully God had other plans.

Who is God to you? Do you believe He has a plan for your life? You have a hope and a future? You do, trust me you do.

Special thanks to all those from Andover Christian Church for this amazing story, each one of you played an integral part and I will never be able to thank you for the unconditional love you showed me. (and of course Terri, I love you.)

I am hoping to attend the "She Speaks" conference in July. The She Speaks conference is about women connecting the hearts of women to the heart of God. The very desire of my heart is to serve Him and His daughters, as He leads. As a way to pay for this conference I am entering a scholarship contest and for this contest I was asked to write about something that reflects my heart. I couldn't think of anything more dear to me then how I came to know the true God and His plan for me. If you would like to learn more about the conference (perhaps go with me?) or enter the contest yourself, please check out the link below!

She Speaks

Father to the Fatherless

I saw this video recently and of course, if you know me at all you know I bawled my eyes out like a little baby. I watched it over and over, watched the dad bust through the crowd and the security guard, and then I watched him push others away to be there for his son. Drew came in while I was watching it and thought one of the kids died. I sobbed as I replayed the video for 42nd time.



I am so moved by a persistent, unadulterated, genuine father’s love. I supposed mostly because growing up I didn’t have it. My dad didn’t fight the crowd, or even drive his car across town to see me. He left me. Up until a few years ago a video like this would have angered me. I would wonder, why him (or her) and not me.



I remember hanging out in high school with a friend, her dad would practice softball pitches with us (despite the fact that I would NEVER be able to hit one) and take us out for ice cream. Sometimes at home ever as a teenager, my friend would crawl into her dad’s lap and he would hold her. I wanted to scream “Who will hold me? Who will love me?” I grew older and my friends would marry. Their dad’s would walk them down the isle and give them away, they would give their daughter’s a sappy speech with tears in their eyes and I would think, “Who will give me away? It’s too late I have already been given away.” About a year ago I watched a good friend of mine give a speech. I watched as her dad sat in the audience, he clung to every word she said. When she got done, I think her dad was ready to erupt, he was so proud of his daughter. While I was so happy for her, she had done such a good job; I was filled with such jealousy. “Is it wrong to want that?” I wondered. I had recently started public speaking and so badly I wanted someone to be in the audience and watch me, the way my friend’s dad watched her.



That night after people had left I sat in my chair. With my head slumped in my hands, I just cried “God I just want a father to love me like that.” I heard a gentle whisper, “you do, Lisa you do.” All at once it occurred to me, God was present where my earthly father was not. He was everything I needed and wanted. Even at 34 he would let me climb in his lap and weep like a baby. He would support and encourage me, even watch me with pride. He would prtect me and love me unconidtionally.

 I tell you all this for 3 reasons…

1) If you have ever been abandoned, I want you to know there is One who will NEVER abandon you. Where your heart aches for a father’s (or anyone else) love He is there to fill it. You are His child and He loves you, wherever you are, whatever you have done, no matter what your circumstances are.

2) If you have a dad who loves you, call him. Thank him. Tell him what he means to you and thank God that He gave you this amazing man. Don’t wait.

3) If you are a dad and you are reading this. Grab your child (boy or girl) and go hug them. Love them; tell them you are proud of them. (It wouldn’t hurt to take one of their fatherless friends out for ice cream)



Today I can watch a video like this one and feel nothing but incredible joy. God has shown me how He has provided for me all along the way. He gave me real men who made the choice to love and care for me. Every other need they couldn’t meet, He met and then some. When I see this video I am reminded that I have a father just like this one. One who will fight the crowds for me, one who will carry my burdens and heartache, One who protects and One who will walk with me to the finish.



A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. Psalm 68:5