Oh Can't You See? You Belong to Me.

Okay, busted!

I have a girl crush on Sandra Bullock.

Lately I've watched a lot of her movies and am feeling a little like George Costanza during his Marisa Tomei obsession.

It is my long time love of Sandra that kept me in my seat to watch The Heat last weekend.

Well, my love for her, the price of admission and the super buttery, movie theatre popcorn.

My spirit said walk out, my flesh said, "Quit being such a fuddy duddy and eat the flippin' Twizzlers."

I made the wrong choice.

I made the wrong call. And I'm sorry.

I stayed in my seat to watch The Heat and I lol'd at a tiny balls joke.
Again, I'm sorry.

If I said testes would that make it any less offensive?
Nut sack? Probably not.

I was wrong and I've already been read my Miranda rights.
By Movie Monitoring Jesus.

I'll just move in another direction with this little life lesson.

Natalie, my almost 16 year old, just got her driving permit and I am absolutely not the best parent for the job of, "Let's Practice Not Dying on Interstate Highway 10 Today."

Only half-jokingly I told her, "I'm much better driving with you than I was with your two sisters. Of course, back then, I actually cared about surviving. Eight, ten years ago, I still had hope. Now I'm just kind of like well, if Jesus takes your wheel and it happens to take me to him, so be it."

Inappropriate and twisted humor goes over well in our family.

My greatest fear for Natalie driving is that she will not see the "Do Not Enter," and go the wrong way. Like I did.

Not just while out practicing her driving skills on the open road, but in life, in general.

I am more than aware of the dangers when going the wrong way.

The other night there were tons of police out and she said, "I hate it when they get behind me. It makes me so nervous."

"Well, it should only make you nervous if you're doing something wrong."

Very Andy Andrews like, if I do say so myself.

And then, in that very teachable moment, I chose to NOT share about the road trip when

I unexpectedly came upon a border patrol stop, squad car lights flashing in my rear view mirror.
Immediately, I was panic stricken when I saw the red and blue lights because I smuggled a pin joint in a coffee can in the trunk, and I was sure I was about to go to Mexican prison.

Once I saw lights flashing in my rear view mirror, I had my own flash of genius inspiration, reached into my purse and began slathering massive amounts of Bengay all over, every area of exposed skin.

When they opened my car to further inspect, the border dogs took one wiff, shook their large German Shepherd heads quickly back and forth, and retreated from the vehicle immediately.

Border patrol waved me through.
And I swore I would never smoke pot again.
I lied.

Thank you good Shepherd.
Your mercy and grace has not gone unnoticed.

The morning of Natalie's driving instruction, I happened to read Romans 13.
It talks about obeying authorities that are placed over us.

It says in chapter 3, "rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right."

I'm not getting into a legalistic/law thing here. It's just funny how life is always presenting opportunities for me to reflect on what I've learned.

"They are called to serve and protect," I remind her.

"Who?"

"The Police."

"Every breath you take, And every move you make.....I'll be watching you...
Every  single day, every word you say..every game you play, every night you stay...I'll be watching  you...'   --The Police

Kind of like God.

Psalm 121:7 says, "The Lord will keep you from all harm, he will watch over your life; he will watch over your coming and going."
Watch over me, watch over my family, and those I love.

Keep us from going the wrong way on the one way.

Grocery Store Confessions: Wake me, Shake me...

Standing in the check out line at HEB the other day, I saw this amazing magazine!

Snuggled right up next to all the other literary works, like 50 Ways to Look Hotter and How To Last Longer in Bed, was the most practical and proven, true life application of real change.

"The Bible: 50 Ways it Can Change Your Life"

How cool is that?

I love my HEB!

One of the things I love most, besides their outstanding customer service, (Shout out to Richard!) they always have great music playing.

Standing in line, I immediately recognized the familiar tune.
"Mony, Mony."
"Wake me, shake me mony, mony......Hey!"

Yep. That one.

I'm sure Tommy James and The Shondells never anticipated the vileness in which that song would later be sung.

One I personally sang at the top of my lungs.

The song makes me cringe now.

I announced to the others in lane 8, "I hate this song. Well, strongly dislike anyway."

They stopped putting stuff on the conveyor belt and looked up to listen, because, well, you can hear better when you're looking up.

After receiving smiles and visual confirmation in front of the Snickers bars and Tic Tacs, the woman behind me squealed with delight, "I love this song!"

Okay. Not on the same page. Duly noted.

But, I decided I was not going to miss this opportunity to share with the grocery buying public, the depths of my former depravity.

"I used to love this song too," I smiled back. "But now when I hear it, it just reminds me of being super drunk on a dance floor, acting like an idiot and shouting verbal obscenities while wearing see through shirts and mini-skirts."

She laughed.

I'm no angel, believe me. And I'm really not trying to sound all holier than thou here, for real. I'm just very surprised by the length and progress of my journey and the jacked up roads I've been down and survived.

Amazed and humbled.

Drinking and drugging and partying are all fun.

Until the consequences kick in.

I love that line from the movie Crazy Heart, "Funny how falling feels like flying, for a little while." And it does.
For a little while.

I used to despise all things, "religious," and felt very free to do whatever I wanted to do.

The greatest thing I've probably learned along the way is, just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

Now, I am the girl in the grocery store, totally excited to go home and make a delicious soup I saw Giada prepare on Food Network.
With kale.

Now, I am the girl, ecstatic and grateful to Time Home Entertainment for putting this beautiful publication in my check out isle.
Just in time.

Thank you, Time.

Thank you for time to grow up, time to change, time to realize what's really important in life and what's not worth chasing.

Thank you time and time again, for forgiveness.

Thank you for the time I had with friends I love who may not see or agree with me.

Thank you for time to reflect on past mistakes and time to pray I don't repeat them.

Thank you for time to repent when I know I probably will.

Funny how I used to love that song and felt no shame whatsoever in yelling, "Get L---, Get F-----!"

Asking God to come into my life and into all of the dark places has undeniably changed me.

In more than 50 ways.

"Do not conform to the ways of this world, but be transformed, by the renewing of your mind." - Romans 12:2 

I've so needed to be renewed.

It goes on to say, "Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is...his good, pleasing and perfect will."

I will if you will!

The woman behind me went on to tell her own story as her teenage daughter stood quietly behind, "I was just at a party a few weeks ago and we were all out on the dance floor yelling, "Get Laid, Get F.... "

I interrupted with my most sincere and loving smile, "I get it."
Because, I do.

Free Fallin into the Great Wide Open

Cliff diving always seemed to be an attractive adventure sport.

I just didn't think Jesus was going to call me to do it.

When I say things like, "But I'm really scared," he whispers back, "Fear not, for I am with you."

When I say, "It sounds really crazy. I need a word," he says, "I've given you several, but if you want just one....Obey."

The Big O. And not the fun one either.

Super scary stuff, going deep.

It's a lot like that feeling you get when you're a kid, standing at the edge of the high dive and you look down.

And then you look back at all the people on the ladder who wish you'd just hurry up and jump already!

So, you act brave and curl your toes over the edge and maybe even start to bounce the board a little like you're really gonna go for it.

But then, the second you start to feel the vibration under your feet, you stop bouncing and just start backing up. Or maybe even turn completely around.

I've felt the vibrations. And I don't care.

The thought of having to crawl down that ladder again is so much more worse than just swan diving into the deep end!

I pray to God I am not going to belly flop. I've done it before and it hurts like hell.

My girls and I have all played "The Trust" game at some point in our lives.

It's a youth group and recess favorite.

This is the game where your "buddy" stands behind you and promises to catch you when you fall backwards.

But then they don't.

And you hit the ground.....hard!

The next time someone asks you to join in the fun, you're not really ready to play that faith building game again.

Especially if you've fallen as far and hard as I have.

But the constant tugging in my spirit says to me daily, "This is all you. When you're ready to do it my way, let me know. I've been telling you to stop, you don't listen. So, if you wanna strive to survive a little longer, okay. Let me know when you're really ready to give up your life, your way."

But I don't understand. And I want to know the plan.

Have I really surrendered ALL?
ALL minus 'this' or 'that' = NOT ALL.

When I sing, "I Surrender All," he reminds me of what I haven't really surrendered....at all.
"What about ____________?"

I think if we're honest...we are almost always holding something back. Some thing that we are not quite ready to give up.

Something we don't trust him to handle correctly maybe?
Name your thing.

Maybe it popped into your head, just now.

That "thing" we want to keep to ourselves, tucked away in the, "Don't Touch This Yet...I've Got This Lord," drawer.

Just yet anyway.

And that's the enemy's best play. Later, Tomorrow, Not Yet.

I quit. I give up. Take my life.
 
The more I seek Him, the more I find Him. The more I find Him, the more I love Him.

And it's that love that he has for me, that makes it a little bit easier to just let go, free fallin' into the arms of my father.

Even when I've slammed into the concrete so many times before, left hurting.

We're not born with that distrust.

My granddaughter, Saydee Grace, loves to do "Row, Row, Row the Boat." At first, we just kind of swayed back and forth, back and forth. Then I started to gently slide her backwards down my legs.

She loves it!

Now, when we are finished with the, "life is but a dream," she joyfully and expectantly thrusts herself backwards, giggling all the way down!

Saydee trusts that I'm not going to let her fall.

And the confidence she has in me, makes me smile!

I imagine it does the same thing to God's heart when his children just trust.

"Obey me in this, and you will see the glory of the Lord."

Trusting that his plans are good, the beauty of obedience, suddenly surrendered to unity and the freedom of free falling.

She's a good girl, loves her mama, loves Jesus, and America too.
                                                                                                     --tom petty

What did you just call me?

 

I’ve been called a lot of names in my life.

Earthquake, Lurch, Bigfoot, Zit and Brace Face.

You name it, I’ve been called it.
Slut, whore, the B word. (I typed it out the first time.) It read a little harsh.

I needed a new name. Most of my life I’ve lived by a name not given to me by my father who loved me.

God gave new names to people all the time. Saul became Paul, Simon became Peter…Sarai became Sarah.

I bet Sarah smiled when that baby came.

Years ago, I read and related to, Much-Afraid, from the Fearing Family in the book, ”Hinds’ Feet on High Places.”
God promised to give her a new name.
She was crippled, she was lame.

A few weeks ago I stood in a courtroom and heard the judge say,
“You are now Tina Mollie Fisher.”

I choked out a squeaky, “Okay. Thank you,” and took my seat on the cold bench.

And I held back the tears as I sat, waiting for the official written declaration to be handed over to me.

Joy and sorrow saturated my heart simultaneously.

My new name.

The name I was given on the day I was born, innocent and untouched except by the hand of God that knitted me in my mother’s womb, with a plan and a purpose for my life.

Yes, yes…born with a sinful nature, but a baby girl brought into a world new and fresh, untouched and undamaged.

A name I was given before I was adopted, before the silly school yard name calling and before the divorces.

The name beautifully painted on my toy box.

Interestingly enough, the name I never got to use, my birth name, was Fisher.

I believe I have been called to be a fisher of men.

Sometimes I feel more like a bait fish.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the dreams God has placed in my heart and the sometimes uncertainty of my sanity, and I keep coming back to Simon.

Later named Peter, aka..the “Rock.”

I love that! Especially because I can totally see Peter walking along with Jesus proudly thinking to himself with a big smile on his face, “I rock. I so totally rock! Look at me, hanging with the miracle man himself! One of the first four he even chose! What can I say? I am soooo totally a rock star!”

Well, up until the whole rooster crowing thing. That had to hurt.
And his co-followers probably kicked sand in his face.

When Jesus first called Peter and the others to “follow” him, they didn’t just drop nets and go all out the first time he commanded. It took a while for him and the others to get out of the boat and stay out of the boat.

They took their time, watched his actions, heard his words, and saw the miracles.

It took time to build their faith.
It took time for them to trust that this man was really worthy of following.

How many demon-possessed, sight restored, lame walkers walking does it take to build that kind of faith?

A boat load!

Finally, one day when they were working, throwing a net into the water, Jesus called out to them again and said, “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!” They left their nets at once and followed him. (Matthew 4:19)

The Tyndale study notes say, “Jesus called them away from their productive trade to be productive spiritually.”
Jesus are you calling?

All I want is the Holy Spirit on my caller ID right now.
I tried to be a water walker once.
I sank.

I don’t want to be irresponsible. I just want to be obedient.
I’m still Much Afraid.
And I know I'm lame.

But I trust you.
And I’d really, really love to go fishing.

I’m ready Lord to lay down my net if that’s you on the other end of the line.
My faith is so fully stretched, but I can’t wait to see the catch!!!
God help me.
Let the gates of hell, not prevail.
I’ll catch em’, you clean em’!
I’m in deep now.
Catch and release me to do your will, whatever that may be.
In Jesus’ precious, name above all names.
Amen.

Free at Last? Free at Last?

As I was driving to my mom's house for the fourth festivities, I heard Air1 play Dr. King's, "Free at Last," speech.

Man, I want that kind of freedom.
He had dreams that were noble and righteous.

Mine just take me to super fun places where I get to share the love.

The other night I dreamt I was boarding my Fisher Price airplane and hugging all of the little wooden headed people as I got ready to climb the flight of stairs.

A stairway to heaven perhaps?
"Take me now, Lord. Please. I'm begging you!"

But then my plane turned into a rocket ship. And I'm pretty sure I heard Elton John singing.
And then the rockets red glare woke me up and reminded me that Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays of the year.

My birthday follows just a few days later and my mom always plans a fabulous celebration, combining the birth of our great country with honoring her own Little Miss Independence.

Me.

Born July 8th, 1967
.
What did I wish for when I blew out my candles?
Freedom.

Jesus Christ can I just be free at last?

I admit it. I'm in a fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh of July funk for sure.

I feel pushed by an invisible force to live a life that smushes me and leaves me feeling suffocated and defeated.

I have also felt quite certain that God and I were tight, and I really was created for something more than the life I've actually been living.

Mediocrity messes with my head.

And then I start to mope around, crying and complaining like a whiney Israelite.

Can I just skip the wilderness adventure pack and go back?

There is some sick sense of security when you're living in bondage, you know?

"Get me out of here!" screams from the depth of my soul.
And I mean it.

Free me from the overwhelming guilt of my past. Free me from the financial hardship brought on by myself and others, Free me from the hurt of words, both spoken and heard. Free me from doubt and insecurity and a looming sense that nothing ever really changes.

I throw on the yoke, tie up the knots and totally ignore what was done on the cross for me. Continually measuring myself against how perfectly 'right' everyone else is doing it but me.

But it's wrong.

"It is for freedom, that Christ set us free! Therefore, do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."

The entire 5th chapter of Galatians, begs me to understand the magnificence of this freedom!
It's just about Jesus.

But I'm still stuck anyway.

Some days I think I hear him say, "Quit."
Other days, "Be still and know that I am God."

I am still, just a little bit ticked off.

The weight of my regrets is so ridiculously unbearable and the do-over list gets longer every day.

In my life long pursuit of happiness, I've never, ever, been happy doing what every one else is doing.

There is something in me, that I cannot explain, and I really should stop trying to.

Recently, in one of my overly sharey moments, I confided in someone who told me my goals, "weren't very realistic."

And there it was again.
The old familiar, stinging zinger.

 I've heard various versions of it my whole life.
And I'm sure it's true.

No...it's not realistic.

Fortunately, I was created by the One who specializes in the miraculous.

Fortunately, I put my hope (even on days I feel frickin' hopeless) in the hands of the one who created me and set me apart and called me His.

I've been waiting over 40 years to see what he's put in my heart come to pass.

"I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry."
Plenty of that for sure.

Under a fake smile, I blew out my candles.
All of them at once.

Maybe this year, I'll finally be free at last.
Free to be a better version of me.
Free to live my life with more passion, in hopes of pursuing happiness and a greater purpose.