My heart is in Joplin

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  Psalm 34:18



One week ago today, our family was gathered in our basement as the tornado sirens wailed outside.  We watched the local coverage of the storm and prayed as a tornado ravaged a section of La Crosse, ten miles to the south of us.  Tornadoes are a bit of an anomaly in the city of La Crosse, and we were shocked to hear accounts and see pictures of the damage in the hours to follow.

I also spent time searching for information on the tornado that ripped through parts of North Minneapolis and surrounding suburbs, since my sister lives in that area.  I was unable to reach her by phone, and it was difficult to think about the possible outcomes, especially since she lives in a mobile home.  (I was finally able to contact her on Monday, and she is fine.)

After these close calls, nothing could have prepared me for the images I saw on Monday morning coming out of Joplin, Missouri.  I had turned on the TV to find out more about the local damage, and instead I was subjected to a visual that might never leave my mind.

You see, I'm a bit of a tornado freak.  I'm always fascinated by the stories of tornadoes and the crazy, weird  things they do.  I suppose it's due to my own personal experiences with these powerful, unpredictable storms.  I've lived through a few of them, including one in a car and another laying in a ditch at an amusement park.  Over the years, I've look at countless pictures and videos of the destruction left behind by twisters.

Joplin was different.

I watched the news coverage of Katrina, Haiti, Japan, and Tuscaloosa.  Although all of those tragedies brought out compassion in me, none of them moved me the way the devastation in Joplin did.  I became physically ill at the sight of St. John's Hospital, cars twisted like soda cans, and trees stripped of bark.  I wept as people were interviewed, still clearly shell shocked and unable to comprehend a fraction of what had happened to their community in a matter of minutes.

Later that morning, at a doctor appointment, I met a nurse whose hometown was Joplin.  She was in tears as she told me about being reassured her family was all right, but not knowing about some dear friends.  The images on the news were so frightening, and she couldn't even recognize parts of the city because all the landmarks were gone.

Yesterday, a friend called to give me an update from her husband who drove to Joplin to volunteer with the cleanup.  Having been to Haiti after the earthquake, he described Joplin as "Haiti on steroids."

It's a week later, and my heart is still breaking for the people of Joplin.  I really have no idea why this particular disaster has affected me so deeply.  I don't know anyone in Joplin, and I have never even been there.  I can only assume it's a move of God upon my heart, and that He intends to use me in some fashion.

I'm doing what I can for them right now...praying, organizing and collecting needed donations, and praying some more.  I believe God is calling me to go there at some point and use my gifts to minister to the brokenhearted and grief-stricken.  For now, my body may be in Wisconsin, but my heart is in Joplin, Missouri.

Just do it

"The Lord protects those of childlike faith; I was facing death, and he saved me."  Psalm 116:6 (NLT)


Something happens to us as we get older.  We have experiences or are affected by the experiences of people in our lives.  Innocence gives way to fear, courage gives in to caution, and trust erodes into paranoia.

A few months ago, I met a young man who was a fairly new Christian.  His passion for God is contagious, and because he is young (both in the faith and in life), he bulldozes through obstacles with a secure faith that God will take care of everything.  Unfortunately, this has gotten him into some trouble along the way, but I've also seen the impact he is having on people's lives.  It reminds me a little of Someone who walked the earth just over 2000 years ago.

There have been waves of similar spiritedness in my own spiritual journey.  About 15 years ago, I was thrust into the world of youth ministry, though not by choice.  There was no one else willing or able to teach those rowdy hooligans in our church, so my husband and I volunteered.  Dan quickly discovered ministering to teenagers was not his niche - he's much more inclined to love on the little ones - so I was left to lead on my own.  God gave me great compassion and understanding for adolescents, and I was convinced my little pack of monsters was going to change the world.

So, I went to bat for them.  Not having a clue what I was doing, but praying through everything and trusting God's leading, I became singularly focused on doing the job well.  I dragged those kids to every event within a 300 mile radius, in my own minivan, often being the only adult.  Dan and I even took them to a music festival several hours away, camping in 100 degree heat and enduring a severe thunderstorm one night.  We had no worship band, so we worshipped to CD's.  We had no curriculum, so I wrote every week's lesson.  We had very little money; often the costs came out of our family's personal budget.  Some of these kids were dealing with serious issues - issues I knew nothing about - so I scoured the internet for information and support.

God was at work.  He was doing His thing in these kids' lives, and I felt like I was just along for the ride.  I can't remember ever thinking that anything we attempted wouldn't work, even though sometimes things didn't quite turn out as planned.  All I knew was that God loved these kids, and He gave me the grace to love them too.

A few years into it, I read a well-known book which explained the best way to do youth ministry.  It was widely hailed in youth ministry circles as brilliant and Biblical.  According to the book, everything I had done up to that point was WRONG.  In fact, some of the things we did were completely dangerous.  Well, I can look back now and see that, but guess what?  No one died.  No one was ever seriously injured.  God didn't allow it, for whatever reason.  Those are His reasons.  The thing is, we just blazed forward and trusted Him with all of it.

Now, don't get me wrong...I'm not suggesting we should be reckless or unnecessarily put kids in harms way.  The things I did were done in ignorance, and fortunately God protected us.  (Thank you, Jesus, that no one ever choked to death playing Chubby Bunny, with both marshmallows and atomic fireballs!)

I'm simply realizing that I need to stop questioning so much when God calls me to do something.  Oswald Chambers said, "Jesus says that if we obey the life God has given us, He will look after all the other things. Has Jesus Christ told us a lie? If we are not experiencing the "much more," it is because we are not obeying the life God has given us, we are taken up with confusing considerations. How much time have we taken up worrying God with questions when we should have been absolutely free to concentrate on His work? Consecration means the continual separating of myself to one particular thing."

This week, God has laid a heavy burden on my heart for the people of Joplin, Missouri.  He is directing me in ways to help, and yet every step of the way, I can hear those "confusing considerations" in the back of my head.  I think we all know the source of those, and I'm in a battle to knock them out of my brain.

Chances are, you're hearing from God, too.  You know it in the depths of your heart.  He's giving you work to do.  Don't dismiss it away with excuses and fears.  Just do it.  

My 25th anniversary of motherhood

Twenty-five years ago today, I became a mother.  This is fairly remarkable considering my son and I nearly died on this very same day.

It was May 19, 1986.  I was eleven days overdue.  The doctor was predicting a 9+ pound baby.  I really had no frame of reference, so I didn't even think about the difficulty of delivering.  I just wanted that kid out!  The doc decided it was time to induce labor, and off to the hospital we went.  Within an hour, my little mister was in distress, and the decision was made to do an emergency C-section.

The next thing I remember, I was in the recovery room trying desperately to breathe.  Apparently, during the procedure, my blood pressure bottomed out, and they almost lost me.

I didn't fully wake up for probably 36 hours.  (Sorry to anyone who visited during that time...I don't remember.)  At some point, I was told I had a son, and I vaguely recall seeing him.  I didn't know until a day or two later that he barely survived also.  When they got to him, he had the umbilical cord wrapped snugly around his neck and was suffocating.

Oh, and the "little" guy was not just a 9 pounder.  He weighed 10 pounds, 5 ounces.  Eek!  The nurses dubbed him "The Refrigerator" (after the Chicago Bears' defensive lineman).  The only other baby in the nursery of the small town hospital was a 5 pound baby girl.  He looked like a tank next to her!  Doc said he ordered a steak his first night in the hospital... :)

In the days and years to come, my miracle baby was the easiest, most compliant child a momma could ask for.  He was always happy, easy-going, loving and sweet.  His smile, encased by dimples, could melt the hardest heart and ease the sharpest pain.  If he saw me crying, he would crawl up in my lap, wrap his arms around my neck and say, "Don't cry, Mommy.  Everything will be all right."

We went through a rough patch in his teen years, but God has brought so much good out of those trials and tribulations...for both of us.  The Lord is still molding and shaping Jeremy into the man He wants him to be, and though it has been painful at times, I'm still privileged to be a part of that.

Jeremy is working hard to build his life now, and I can't express how proud I am of him.  He's a good man.

Did I just say he was a man?  Well, I guess I have to accept that he is.  But somewhere in my heart, he will always be the little boy with the dimpled smile that lights up a room.  I love you, son, and happy birthday!

"My son, keep your father’s command and do not forsake your mother’s teaching."  Proverbs 6:20

Messy mercy

I have a picture on my desk of my two oldest children.  It was taken when they were around the ages of 4 and 8.  To anyone else, it's just a cute picture of a couple of kids.  To me, it reminds me every day to dispense mercy.

You see, the picture was taken a couple of years after my divorce.  Those first few years were not easy.  You could say it was my own doing, since I was the one who left, and I suffered heavily under my own guilt and shame.  It was multiplied by unkind responses from family, friends, church members, and even a pastor.  At times, I felt completely alone in the world.

Did I deserve to be treated that way?  Yes; I hurt a lot of people.  Did it help the situation to be treated that way?  No, in fact, it made things worse, especially for the two cute kids in my picture - innocent children caught in the exchange of verbal fire.

In addition to mistreatment from others, I began to use myself as a punching bag.  In what became a pointless battle, I beat myself up repeatedly, know full well I could do nothing to change the situation.

A few years later, I was able to find my way out of the boxing ring after reading Psalm 103.  "He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities." At first it seemed crazy to me that God would not accuse us of every sin.  After some thought, I realized if He brought conviction upon us for every sin we committed, we'd be convicted all day long.  And a lot of that conviction would be the lack of mercy we show to others, when this verse tells us even the Holy God of the universe doesn't treat us as we deserve!

What a relief, to know that there is always mercy!  Think about it, have you ever paid the full price for your sins?  Have you ever gotten all that you deserve for the harm you've caused others?  Nope.  We owe that to Jesus.  He took the beating we deserved.  God's own innocent child paid the ultimate price.

A few months ago, our pastor gave a sermon about forgiveness.  He read the parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:21-35), and then he shared this Scripture:  "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."  In other words, if we dole out "messy mercy" to others, that's the mercy we will receive in return.  I don't know about you, but I don't want messy mercy!  I want healthy doses of mercy!

So every time I look at this picture on my desk, I remember the messy mercy I was given after my divorce.  It reminds me to forgive and treat others with the love and kindness I hope to receive in return.  Even if they don't deserve it.  God knows I don't.

Should Christian women vent?

As Christian women, we've all done it.  We do it on a regular basis.  It feels great, both during and after.  No, I'm not talking about sex...and shame on you for thinking that!  ;)

I'm talking about venting - you know, releasing frustrations and anger and saying what you REALLY think or really wanted to say but couldn't.  If I had a dime for every time I've heard a woman (including myself) say, "I really need to vent", I'd probably be a millionaire.  Being the emotional creatures God has created us to be, we possess a seemingly innate desire to express those emotions.  At times, we feel as if we will explode if we don't let it out!

Mental health experts tell us it is healthy to express ourselves.  But is venting godly?  Let's ask ourselves a few questions.

• Is venting a need or a want?  

It feels like a need, doesn't it?  The problem is, feelings are temporary and not always a reliable source.  Our emotions are quickly changeable and are influenced by hundreds of factors.  We expect men to control their sexual desires, although it often feels like a need to them.  Even if it is proven to be a need, as followers of Jesus, we are called to rely on God for everything.  "And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."  (Philippians 4:19)

• Does it honor God?  

Those who listen to our vents have their ears assaulted by complaints, slander, and gossip.  Our words should build others up, encourage, and exhort.  Instead, our venting is focused on tearing someone down.  Our motivation is to make sure someone else knows we've been wronged.  That doesn't honor God at all.   Philippians 2:3 says, "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves."

• Does it cause us to sin?

"In your anger do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent. " (Psalm 4:4)  As noted above, anger can cause us to sin against others.  The Psalmist gives us great wisdom in telling us to be silent when we are angry!  Ephesians 4:26, which quotes the first part of Psalm 4:4, indeed tells us to deal with our anger before the day ends, but in such a way that we don't give the devil a foothold.

I know what you're thinking.  You're saying, "Oh, but Lisa, you don't know...I HAVE to process these emotions!  If I don't talk to someone about it, I won't be able to get past it!"  Oh, but I do know.  I'm a woman too!  This entire post came out of a recent experience in which God revealed to me the ugliness of the things I vent about and the need to make a change.

As I see it, the solution is two-fold.  One, we need to have a proper view of the person who has wronged us.  They are not the enemy. "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12)  This is the work of the evil one, who delights in our venting!

A friend of mine said this to me today:  "Help me to remember we are ALL His beloved. Even when I'm upset with people, help me remember, God loves each one of us intimately and passionately."  When we see others as God sees them, it takes the sting out of our own hurt.

Secondly, we can still vent, we just need to vent to the right Person.  Our Heavenly Father wants us to come to Him with our cares, our frustrations, our hurt, and our pain.  "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)  Note it says, ALL.  And really, why wouldn't we take this stuff to God?  He's the only One who can do anything about it anyway, right?

But what about Galatians 6:2?  "Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ."  I love Matthew Henry's commentary on this.  "It becomes us to bear one another's burdens, as fellow-travellers. It is very common for a man to look upon himself as wiser and better than other men, and as fit to dictate to them. Such a one deceives himself; by pretending to what he has not, he puts a cheat upon himself, and sooner or later will find the sad effects. This will never gain esteem, either with God or men. Every one is advised to prove his own work. The better we know our own hearts and ways, the less shall we despise others, and the more be disposed to help them under infirmities and afflictions."  

Hallmark doesn't make a Mothers' Day card for those who hurt

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed."  Psalm 34:18

Ah yes, Mothers' Day.  The day of flowers, candy, cards, phone calls, and breakfast in bed.  For some of us, it's a wonderful day of being pampered and appreciated by our families.

For others, the day is difficult and filled with grief.  This year, I encourage you to think of people you know who might need acknowledgement on Mothers' Day - those who are hurting.

Remember...

• Those who have lost their mothers, even if it has been years
• Those who have lost children
• Those who have given up a child for adoption
• Those who have been unable to conceive
• Those who have had an abortion

I'd tell you to send a card, but Hallmark doesn't make one.  I looked.  Instead, pick up the phone and call, leave them a message on Facebook, or give them a hug.  Just let them know you are thinking of them on what might be a painful day.