YOU CAN TRUST HIM

YOU CAN TRUST HIM

  • JOURNEY, Testimonies

YOU CAN TRUST HIM

Messages like this make me jump up in my seat and give God a massive high five. A little girl is learning to trust her Father.

“I am feeling so encouraged and equipped to help my kids more and more. I’ve been practicing myself, and though I stumble over the words, something is getting through. Yesterday, my daughter could not find her special puppy and blanket. Instead of calling me immediately, she said that she tried to push back fear and kept asking God to show her where it was. For a brief moment, I felt bad that she hadn’t come to me asking for help, but then I rejoiced seeing how BIG of a thing that was for her! She was not consumed and paralyzed (like usual); she drew strength from going to Jesus first and asking for Him to show her. She did find it, and this morning we celebrated her victory over fear and her growth in going to Jesus and hearing him!”

AUTHORITY OVER DARKNESS

This is the core purpose of Let the Children Fly. A mom taking our online JOURNEY class wrote: “I wish I’d been affirmed and taught in this way as a child. I think it would’ve made all the difference in my life, knowing and asserting my authority over darkness instead of worrying about it and avoiding it.” It is not too late for you to come and learn!

MEN & PORN

This is written by a spiritual son, and I am so proud of him and his journey to freedom.

“I was first exposed to pornography in the 6th grade when a friend at school passed around a dilapidated nudie magazine he probably found rotting in the street somewhere. I had never had a personal conversation with an adult regarding sexuality up to that point, and public school sex education in the early 90s was pretty much solely focused on anatomy and function. Needless to say, when my turn came to take the magazine home, I sat on my bed, electrified by entirely new feelings of wonder, excitement, danger, and shame, which produced a healthy blend of irresistible fascination and self-loathing. Shortly afterward, I was exploring the basement of our house one afternoon and came across several hidden boxes of decades-old pornographic material. This reinforced a couple of beliefs that had been developing in my subconscious – that every person with a penis had a raw hunger for sex that would never be satisfied. And that the only thing worse than living with this unshakeable burden would be to open up and talk about it with someone else. The years that followed are a blur of cognitive dissonance in memory. At church, I was captivated by the message of God’s grace and acceptance. At school, I felt desperately insecure about how I (didn’t) fit in socially. And at home, I buried myself in isolating and self-destructive behavior, firmly believing that anyone – family, friends, strangers, Jesus Himself – who learned what I was really like would turn away in disgust forever. After high school, I moved across the country for college in hopes of a fresh start. While I grew in self-confidence and self-expression, my sexuality remained stunted and a source of shame, allowed to peek its head out only in the company of a computer screen in the darkness or in pushing boundaries in dating relationships that were never explicitly acknowledged or discussed. I felt increasingly compartmentalized between the good things I was being exposed to and challenged to pursue and my hidden life of sexual shame, to the point where I began to have regular nightmares about the house I grew up in, the basement in particular. The dreams varied in detail, but the theme was always the same, and each time I woke up uneasy with a sense of dread from someone having entered or trying to enter my house with a clear intention to do harm. I continued to have these dreams consistently over the next fifteen years. In my mid-twenties, I finally gave up on hoping for a magic bullet from God to fix my broken areas overnight and opened up to some friends about my struggles with sexual purity. To my immense relief, I learned that I wasn’t alone in this area, and we decided to meet weekly as a group. Relief soon turned to puzzlement and resignation as we quickly realized that none of us had any idea of how to actually help each other. Our friendships deepened through the experience, but none of us got any healthier. Several years, a few moves, a couple of other men’s groups, and a wedding later, I reached the point of moderately successful behavior control. I hadn’t grown in any healthy level of sexual purity, let alone come close to the kind of freedom Jesus and Paul gush about in the New Testament, but I was managing to ‘act out’ only once every few months. I joined a men’s group at church called ‘The Whole Man Project’. The very first night I walked into the room, I heard a message of freedom being preached from a place of conviction and experience that I’d never thought possible, and I left wondering if I dared to hope for true freedom for myself. I joined a small group and started on the gradual but upward journey of uncovering and processing the hurts, pain, and false beliefs stored up over a lifetime that was underlying my lack of sexual self-control. In my mind, I began to switch from fighting an unending defensive battle just to avoid stupid behavior to fighting to take ground in how I wanted my life to play out. Taking one step at a time toward the abundant life Jesus promised His followers. About six months after I joined The Whole Man Project, I was chatting with a mentor one morning, which turned into a ministry session where she led me through revisiting some painful experiences. The memory of the day I discovered the pornography collection in the basement was brought to mind. She instructed me to ask Jesus where He was at that moment and write out what He showed me. I saw Jesus in the corner of the room as I was about to open the closet, and I asked Him that if He was there, then why did He let me open the door? I felt Him say that He would never take away the freedom to act and to choose from either myself or those around me, but I felt His fierceness towards the closet. I felt Him say that the enemy wanted to plant something in me, but He had already planned the path to conquer it in advance. She then led me through prayers of forgiveness and generational reconciliation, encountering the heart of the Father, and receiving the equipping and empowering of the Holy Spirit. I realized that I had been waiting for God to chauffeur me to the promised land of freedom while I helplessly sat in the backseat when He had been inviting me to sit up front and take an active role in partnering with Him to move forward together. After that day, my recurring nightmares about the house I grew up in stopped completely. The truth is that we have been reconciled to the Father completely through the work of Jesus on the cross, but that is the starting point for abundant life, not the finish line. Each day, He extends an invitation for us to journey with Him towards wholeness and freedom; how far we want to take it is ultimately up to us.”

“I AM BUILDING HER TESTIMONY”

God said, “I am building her testimony,” – My daughter wanted to try out for a sport that was important to her, but she called me asking if she could skip it and come home. Everything within my mama’s heart wanted to tell her no and make her do hard things (because I knew her heart wanted to do it). But I heard the Lord say, “Let her come home. I am building her testimony.” We went for a walk and talked about it. I began asking her questions about what had happened and what her heart was experiencing. We talked about risk and how there is a chance it may not end well. We talked about other things she attempted in life that did not end so well, which made her laugh. She realized she had the capacity to handle it if it didn’t turn out the way she hoped. I then asked her, “Is the fear of risk greater than the disappointment of not making the team because you were too afraid to try?” She began to see it as a risk but worth it. We created a plan to help empower her. While I could have ‘made’ her do it, her faith would not have been built. She will forever have a brick in her testimony wall of how God walked her through her fear of taking a risk.

FIRE SEASONS

We walked through some very refining seasons, and little made sense to me at the time. I was following Him to the best of my ability, and few understood. Not everyone around me was able to stand with me in my journey. I know it was heavy and hard at times, and sometimes we have to endure the reality that no one else can fully understand our world except Him. Some suggested maybe we weren’t to move to Colorado because the journey was so long. Others let me know that the hardship on the kids wasn’t good. I am not sure anything frightens a mother’s heart more than knowing her children are ‘suffering.’ Nothing makes a single mom feel more vulnerable than knowing she is the sole parent making decisions that radically affect her children. This was the hardest, most excruciating part of the process. I went before the Lord and asked Him (repeatedly) if I was missing something that was causing undue hardship to my kids. He said, “Lisa, yes, your children are indeed going through a very challenging season (on top of what everyone else is enduring), but your children will see the breakthrough, the provision, and the outcome. Your children will witness My hand move on their behalf.” Suddenly my countless tears turned into glory and praise to a God who continues to woo and wow His children.

As a mother, what I long for the most is for my children to see the hand of their Father. Psalms 107 speaks of tossing around the waves of hardship and how God brings us through the storm into our safe haven. I was never looking for a house. I was looking for His peace, and we found it!

PURE GOLD!

“This morning before school, we had an episode at home where a lie was involved. It resulted in us disciplining the child who had lied, who then decided to throw a fit, storming to her bedroom and locking herself in it. Daddy came to the rescue and managed to bring the child downstairs again to finish breakfast and get shoes on to head to school. I felt my child needed a little more explanation on why she was disciplined. I went on to explain that lying breaks Mommy’s trust and her heart. I tried to explain it from many angles and as easily as possible. The other child, who was not involved, comes in and says, ‘Mommy, could I try to explain it in a different way?’ I agreed. Said child puts her two hands together in the format of a bridge and says: ‘This is you (…), and this is Mommy. You guys are close, and you trust each other. When you lie, this bridge gets weaker.’ Slowly separating her hands, she proceeds, ‘Then, if you keep lying, the bridge will break because there will be no trust.’ So, we made an agreement, building a little bridge with our hands, that we would always tell the truth no matter how difficult that truth is and even if we are scared of telling the truth. I realized she was feeling a lot of shame because of telling a lie. So, Daddy (being the most amazing daddy in the world) said, ‘I also lied when I was a kid.’ Her eyes widened, and she asked, ‘Why?’ He said, ‘I was scared.’ I could sense shame falling off of her as she realized that she was not the only person that ever lied. I took the opportunity and also said, ‘Mommy has also lied because I was scared of being punished if I told the truth.’ I could tell she was mind blown by both of us admitting we had lied before. We reinforced the importance of telling the truth no matter what and got them ready for school. As soon as we were done, she jumped up and walked around like the full confident self she was. She came over to say goodbye to me, and we did our special handshakes, and at the end, we built a bridge again, and this time around, there was no shame in her eyes. Lessons learned in this. I’ll definitely take that illustration of trust with me forever. That’s gold! Vulnerability breaks shame! Boom! I love my family more than anything after Jesus!”

EMMA’S STORY

Emma came bursting through my bedroom door when she was five and announced, “Mommy, I have to have Jesus in my heart right now!” She said her Sunday school told her all about Jesus, and she needed to do this. I said, “Oh, sweetie, that is the most amazing thing. How about you come to me first thing in the morning if this is something you really want to do?” I wanted to be sure this was her heart or something she felt like she was ‘supposed’ to do. She said, “Mom, NO. I can’t wait that long,” and so we prayed, accepting Jesus in her heart. I told her that Jesus tells us once we have accepted Him to go tell others and asked who she wanted to tell. She jumped off my lap in a flash, and about five minutes later, her twin sister, Lauren, came into my room, asking to accept Jesus. We celebrate their spiritual birthday each year, thanking God for adopting both of them.

DANCE, EMMA, DANCE!

Emma, my second twin, wiggled in my womb so much it could easily take the nurses 45 minutes just to get an ultrasound of her. She hasn’t stopped moving since. Not in a hyper way (she is actually very mellow), but she is always dancing. I was never allowed to be carefree as a child, and the creative arts aren’t my natural bent, so it somewhat agitated me that she couldn’t just walk through the grocery store but always had to be leaping and twirling. I used to try to teach her to control herself and walk like a lady. It caused tension between us at times. Finally, God began to show me that her dancing is a gift from Him. It is almost warfare in nature. Something shifts in the atmosphere when she dances, which is so powerful.

I sensed Holy Spirit calling me to worship Him despite the heaviness of my heart. I found myself calling my daughter from the other room, “Dance, Emma, DANCE!” Within a few moments, something broke in the atmosphere. Interestingly, I endured a lot of grief while pregnant with her, and I sincerely believe all of the ‘movement’ was her dancing in the womb. I don’t always understand what is going on, but I DO know this – children are powerful carriers of the Kingdom, and when we as parents learn to steward their gifts vs. trying to control them, WE are the ones who are blessed.

UNLOVING SPIRIT

For years I noticed something in my life that would occur, yet I never had the language for it. Frustrated over its constant intrusion, I sat on the couch and told God I wouldn’t get up until it was exposed. Shortly after, my children walked in from school, and I heard Him say, “Your ministry team just walked in.” Anytime the kids are involved in ministry, I know it will be good. I called them all over and explained that there was ‘something’ going on in our family, and I wasn’t even sure what it was called or where it came from, but Jesus did, and we could ask Him. Their responses blew me away! One heard a stampede of elephants that happened over and over. Another saw a man morph into the Incredible Hulk and felt fear over this raging anger. Another heard the word ‘rejection,’ and my youngest began to cry. She said, “Mom, I don’t understand it, but I see the sweetest baby who is so cute, but no one even likes her.” Instantly my mind recalled one of the stories my grandma shared when I was interviewing her about her life journey. In 1894, my (great, great, great) grandfather came to America from Germany, leaving behind his wife and young sons. He worked for two years before having enough money to send for them to join him. At their long-awaited reunion, he sees his wife, three sons, and a brand-new baby girl (obviously, not his). He told his wife he would feed her, and that was about it. He taught the boys to reject her, and she spent the rest of her life hated and unwanted simply for being the fruit of her mother’s choices. The thing I was feeling was an unloving spirit. There has been a family disconnect between mothers and daughters in our family line ever since. The stories of blatant rejection and cruelty are heart-wrenching. I am the generation that breaks it and restores the mother/daughter connection as God intended. As a family, we sat in a circle and forgave our great, great, great grandma for having an affair. We forgave our great, great, great grandpa for partnering with a spirit of rejection and for not handling his anger well. We forgave him for using the parenting tool of fear and control and for not knowing how to work through this pain in a healthy way. And then we told the unloving spirit it was no longer welcome in our family!

HONEST DEALINGS

Honestly, I am shocked at the conviction of some people to make things right with me when they could get away with it. A mom messaged me to say she took two books at a conference and realized nearly a year later that the payment did not go through. She reached out to make that right. WOW! It reminds me of this post, and I wanted to share it again. 

Our pastor shared a story about buying a pack of gum for cheap. He went in the next day, and they had raised the price because the clerk had made an error the day before. Our pastor digs in his pocket for the change to make up the difference. The clerk says it was his error and that he owed nothing. His response has never left me. He said, “If I am faithful to give you what is yours, God will be faithful to give me what is mine.” A few days later, I let my son play the video game at the table of our restaurant. When we got in the car, he showed me $7 that he ‘found’ under the video game. I heard our pastor’s words in my mind and immediately turned the car around to have my son explain to the waiter what had happened. My son didn’t do anything wrong, as he clearly thought it was lost money, but not making it right would have made it wrong. The following day I got tangled in L.A. traffic and ended up in a lane that required me to pay $20 for parking. I told the attendant I would just drive through and exit. While doing so, I made a comment that the guy would never even know if we just slipped into a parking spot, but my daughter instantly said, “But Mom, that would be dishonest.” Once again, I heard, “If I am faithful to give you what is yours, God will be faithful to give me what is mine,” and we drove off. Teaching children about character and modeling it ourselves is so valuable to the Father.

SPEAK LIFE

When I was 24, I had a drug overdose and wasn’t found for three days. The first officer on the scene declared me DOA (dead on arrival) and literally went to get the body bag. The second person on the scene declared he found a faint pulse. I love that part of my story because it is so richly prophetic. Light always trumps darkness, and it only takes ONE person to declare life to that which appears to be dead. No matter what you are going through in your marriage, with your kids, your finances, health, or circumstances, DECLARE LIFE and watch God resurrect that which looks, feels, and appears dead! As I walked out my three-month hospital stay, which included being in a coma, kidney failure, liver failure, and respiratory failure, my brother got so tired of the ongoing grim reports spoken over me from the medical staff that he put up signs all around my room that said, “No negative words spoken here.” I am here today because LIFE was spoken and declared over me.