OK, everybody! As of today we get to start implementing the directions God placed on my heart for our 2014 Living Proof Live ticket giveaways. For a number of years now, we’ve given away 15-20 tickets (dependent upon the availability of seats) per Living Proof Live event for our blog community. They were first come, first serve and the only qualification was the recipient’s inability to attend without a free ticket. We have had a blast with these “Siesta Scholarships” and felt very led of the Spirit to do them and rarely had a leftover giveaway ticket.

If you perchance read my January 1st post for this year, I shared how God strongly and repeatedly called me to start sowing into different fields in 2014. One huge reason for the shift in focus-group is to your tremendous credit. So many of you are staunch women of God who have been in His Word many years and love Jesus passionately and serve others sacrificially. I have never respected a large community of believers more. Our time on this planet is limited and our resources of energy, ability, and outreach are (at times disturbingly) finite. We are stewards here, entrusted by the Lord of the Harvest to make the most useful investments possible in this terrestrial soil. How will we spend the breath of time entrusted to us? How will God get the most glory out of our brief stay here? These have become my questions, particularly as I consider that, in all probability, I have fewer years of ministry ahead of me than I have behind me. This realization does not make me sad. It makes me bold.

 

Our new emphasis isn’t rocket science. In fact, it really shouldn’t have taken the lengths God has had to go for me to shake out of it but I’m a relational person who doesn’t like change. I like long histories with people. Blah, blah, blah. I won’t bore you with excuses. The shift of our primary focus at Living Proof Ministries is now officially toward women or girls…

 

Who don’t know Christ as Savior.

 

Who have accepted Christ as Savior but have not been discipled at all.

 

Who don’t know the hope and freedom of Christ.

 

Who don’t know much about His Word.

 

Who don’t study Scripture in-depth.

 

That’s who our ministry is primarily looking to serve right now, not out of convenience to us (because it’s, frankly, not as convenient as we’d hoped) but out of obedience to Jesus. And the fields are white for harvest and so immense that there is ample room and need for every single of one of us! Read that profile again. Those women outnumber the well-discipled by how many hundreds? If you’ve been a regular in this blog community and wonder if I’m saying that serving you is no longer a priority, please don’t misunderstand. The only shift is that I am begging to serve with you. You are giants to me. Try to fathom the fields we could cover if we locked arms. I could give you no greater compliment than to say that most of you already have what women are desperate to receive out there. Let’s go find them!

 

This is all preaching to the choir, of course. You know all of this and most of you are already doing all of this. You know me. I have to go back to the sundial just to tell you what time it is.

 

All said, as of today, we are increasing our number of giveaway tickets with great joy and designating them ONLY for guests that meet one of the qualifications listed above in bold print. In other words, anybody can claim a free ticket for someone new to Christ or His Word and willing to come to a Living Proof Live. This one will take sacrifice because, even if you don’t have the money to go, the ticket is not meant for you if you already have a growing relationship with Christ. That’s hard for me to say because I love and value you so much but I need to give our new initiative clarity to keep my staff from having to say it over and over on the phone. They are such servants and I want to take any heat myself for people who might get a bit disgruntled. With this new target group for scholarships, it may mean that you don’t even go to the event or live in the area but you know someone who would chance it if she had a free ticket. Could that be you? Then you qualify to get one for her. Are you beginning to see how it works?

 

In past years we’ve always posted the giveaways on the day before the event but we will now post them earlier to give you, our bloggers, time to make invitations and see who would go. If you find takers, here’s what you’ll need to do:

 

Call Living Proof Ministries toll free at 1-888-700-1999 (not 800! It’s 888!) and ask for (or leave a voice mail for) Kimberly Meyer or Susan Kirby. They will ask the name of your guest and arrange for her to have a ticket under her name at the “Will Call” window/desk at the event that Friday evening. You can claim more than one ticket as long as tickets are available, and if you know for certain that your guests are going to use them. Help us make sure the tickets go to good use.

 

I give you my word on this, my beloved sisters. The gospel of Jesus Christ will be proclaimed and a clear invitation to receive Him as Savior will be issued.

 

I’d like to say one more thing if you’d stick around another minute. I want to convey the depth of my gratitude to LifeWay Christian Resources. I wish all of you knew the people there with whom I get to work and serve. They’re worthy of being named and described and affirmed one by one but I would not even know where to stop. They work hard and weep with desire to see people know Christ. This new initiative resonated with them so deeply that they jumped on board and took all sorts of actions beyond what I asked. For instance, they have not just given away 50 free tickets to Hershey, PA LPL. They’ve given away several hundred and I expect they’ll take similar approaches to LPLs in other cities. I love the LifeWay Women’s event team and discipleship team so much. That they’ve stuck with me through thick and thin, through people talking smack, and through leadership of the Spirit they had to, at times, trust second-hand is profoundly humbling to me. I never take that lightly. We are very human people who don’t always get it right or do it well but this is real to us. Going forth to disciple people in Christ according to the Great Commission in Matthew 28:19 is the single most important goal in our lives.

 

OK, Girls! Hit it! Help me give away free tickets! I love you so much. I want very much to continue to partner with you to reach women who do not yet know our glorious, risen Hope.

 

P.S. If your wondering what cities Living Proof Live will be in over 2014 so you can join in the invitation initiative, here’s the link: LPL 2014 schedule . Please wait to claim free tickets for guests until the blog post for that city pops up here but, by all means, start thinking about who you might ask. I am so grateful, Sisters! May God bless you with a great harvest of souls in all He’s called you to do.

*Before I ever saw the stunning post our dear Beth wrote and posted last Saturday, I also woke up Saturday with these words on my heart about the Holy Week. This will help you understand why I keep referring to Saturday. Grin. I love y’all!

 

I woke up this morning and after pondering my breakfast options, my thoughts immediately went to the weight of today. This quiet Saturday, or as some might label it; the wait.

What was everyone thinking? How was everyone processing this crucifixion they had just witnessed a mere 12 hours ago? What was running through the mind of Jesus’ mother Mary that went unrecorded in scripture? What thoughts was she pondering? How many tears had she shed that no one saw?

Days earlier these people were watching Jesus perform miracles. They thought they had found the Savior, but now they’d been robbed of their peace with no hope in sight.  Saturday was the day all hope seemed lost.  They didn’t realize yet that Sunday was coming.

For most of us, it’s the time in between that’s the foggiest. It’s the time in between that proves our character. It’s the time in between that makes us or breaks us.

Confusion sets in.
Hopelessness sets in.
Doubt sets in.
A lack of understanding sets in.
Coping sets in.
Disillusionment sets in.
Cynicism sets in.
Unbelief sets in.

Because when we’re robbed of something we felt sure of, even if it was Jesus Himself, we can’t help but wonder what in the world He’s doing.

The weight of waiting can feel unbearable at times, crushing even, and can seem longer and longer with each passing hour. As our dear Beth so eloquently penned it, “Sometimes waiting is the work.” And work it is, at least most days it feels like work. Working at fighting for joy, contentment, peace, solutions and whatever else we feel like we’re working for. Often times we’re fighting for identity.

Because we all know that though we label these times in between as waiting for something, whether it be a job, a husband, a baby, a breakthrough, a prodigal child returning home, a resolution to a conflict, a long suffering to end, whatever “it” is, they are really just times of refinement and we flat out do not like it because it’s uncomfortable. We grasp for control to no avail, and our ugly flesh is exposed. We either fall to our knees or run to comfort because the thought of facing pain or loneliness is almost unbearable. And while our coping appears to everyone as us looking for a solution, we’re really just looking for compassion. We just want someone to understand our pain without trying to fix it, because deep down inside we know Jesus is the only thing that can truly fix us. Instead of letting Him work everything out for good, we give our best efforts to work everything together for good.

The time in between…it’s the hardest.

But then, just when we have the confidence to face it head on, just as Mary couldn’t wait any longer to be near Jesus, near his physical body, a little light of hope breaks through. Because after all, over and over He tells us not to be troubled. Instead of finding him where we thought He was, He ends up somewhere completely different, somewhere we didn’t see coming.

In our home.
In our people.
In our workplace.
In us.

Jesus not only spent three days in a tomb, He also spent nine months in Mary’s womb. But yet we still continue to be shocked, stunned, and surprised at how He comes through! And it really was better than we could have imagined! And He really did work all the blood and bruising out for good! And it really does change everything. Our songs, our stories, they may be incomplete, but we still sing. We still sing because He is sovereign and His plans cannot be thwarted, try as we (or the enemy) might to thwart them. (Job 42:2)

Because that’s the kind of God He is.

The God who sees.
Who mends.
Who knits.
Who loves.
Who has compassion and solutions.
Who is our hope.
Who saw both Saturday and Sunday coming.
Who really did die for us so we could spend eternity with Him.
Who really does love us.
Who really doesn’t waste one minute of the time in between.
Who has provided everything we’ve needed thus far.
Who causes us to look back and see His hand of faithfulness all over our many seasons.
Who resurrects what’s been lying lifeless.
Who makes everything beautiful in His time.

Who gives us an identity, labeled us as a somebody dearly and eternally loved, despite what has or hasn’t come our way.

I know, because I’m currently living in a “time in between”.

And although confusion, discouragement, loneliness, mistrust, fog and anxiety have all set in on different days and different times, there is hope. And it is good.

And it is Jesus Christ himself. It always has been. So we fix our eyes on Him; and suddenly, the time in between doesn’t seem so hopeless, the weight, a little lighter.

As the old hymn so powerfully words it, “…all other ground is sinking sand.”

“O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption.” Psalm 130:7

The place God carved out for women in the Bible’s account of Christ’s death and resurrection is astonishing. To be noticed in the scenes at all in the religious climate of their day was revolutionary. To be recorded by name, an immeasurable gift wrapped in the incarnation.

As women of Christ seeking to identify with those first female followers who were eyewitnesses of His life, parts of His ministry (Luke 8:1-3), His passion, His death, and resurrection, we try to place ourselves in the unfolding drama that has made room for our kind. Imagining what it was like to be Mary, the mother of Christ, on the lurching patch of ground near the Cross is soul-wrenching. To see your child, grown though he may be, thrashed into disfigurement, unclothed and exposed and hung by nails through the flesh of your flesh for hours on end, fighting for breath, is too much to wrap our imaginations around.The seconds must have dragged their feet like a suffering man dragging a cross.

 

To try to stare into the eyes of the women at the crucifixion of Christ and imagine the lung-heaving weight of their grief and the crashing of their hope is endurable only because we know the rest of the story. On the third day through the pool of a woman’s tears, the face of the risen Son of God was beheld, the sun piercing the black hole of an empty tomb.

 

Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?

 

Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.

 

And Jesus spoke just one little word to the woman from Magdala.

 

Mary.

 

She turned and said to Him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!”

 

Stunningly beautiful.

 

Haven’t most of us imagined being her?

 

The account of the women over that weekend of earth-altering events doesn’t skip from the Cross to the tomb. Luke 23:56 records a single piece of information that scripts hours of silence. I’ll include the surrounding verses here so that you can see it in a loosely draped timeline:

______
50 Now there was a man named Joseph, from the Jewish town of Arimathea. He was a member of the council, a good and righteous man, 51 who had not consented to their decision and action; and he was looking for the kingdom of God. 52 This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. 53 Then he took it down and wrapped it in a linen shroud and laid him in a tomb cut in stone, where no one had ever yet been laid. 54 It was the day of Preparation, and the Sabbath was beginning. 55 The women who had come with him from Galilee followed and saw the tomb and how his body was laid. 56 Then they returned and prepared spices and ointments.
On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.

24 But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. 2 And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. 5 And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? 6 He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.” 8 And they remembered his words, 9 and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. 10 Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles, 11 but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. (Luke 23:50-24:11 ESV)

______

Go with me there again: the women saw how His body was laid. Then they returned and prepared spices and ointments.

 

Then they had to sit and wait and bide their agonizing time until the Sabbath was over so that they could tend to the deceased body of their beloved.

 

No work. Just wait.

 

Sometimes waiting is the work.

 

Nothing makes us sweat like waiting.

 

Sometimes rest is imposed on us when what we want to do more than anything on earth is work.

 

I’ve got to do something.

 

To women, there is always something to do in a catastrophe.

 

Fix it.

 

If you can’t fix it, fret over it. Flail. Demand. Make yourself heard.

 

But do something.

 

To us the answer is never do nothing.

 

I’m not sure womanhood had ever been put to trial more thoroughly in the Gospels than in the still shot of Luke 23:56.

 

I don’t want to wait and see. Let me see to it myself. Nothing mauls a sober woman’s sensibilities like staying put in a crisis.

 

We want to wrap things, even if they’re dead.

 

At our bravest and most selfless, we want desperately to bring fragrance to the pall of death and give it, if not beauty, dignity. If we cannot, we feel useless.We do not realize that our presence right there before God in the trust of our worklessness can be fragrance. It’s not in the spices and ointments. It’s in us.

 

It is Saturday. Not only a day in a week of seven but maybe a season in your own pain and bewilderment. Maybe something terrible has happened; that which could make many you love lose hope. Maybe it looks like God did not come through. You keep taking up for Him but He doesn’t seem to be taking up for Himself.

 

But you believe…because you’ve seen so much. You know God can work things for good and you volunteer almost violently for Him to use you to do it but, still, resurrection waits. Nothing you’re doing is working. Your hands are tied. You feel useless. After all, what good is a woman who’s forced to rest?

 

Go with me to one more scene of women. Rewind the sacred clock to the week before Christ’s death and resurrection. The place is John 11.

 

17 Now when Jesus came, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. 18 Bethany was near Jerusalem, about two miles off, 19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them concerning their brother. 20 So when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, but Mary remained seated in the house. 21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” 23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” 24 Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” 25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.

 

Moments later, that dead man came walking out of the tomb, grave clothes dangling.

 

Rest.

 

You cannot fix it.

 

All your panting will not resuscitate it.

 

Resurrection is divine. We can’t help God with it. He alone can do it.

 

And He will. He is life. He cannot leave death well enough alone.

 

Rest.

 

Tomorrow is Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When you speak as much as I do, you end up saying some stupid things, particularly if you’re tongue-prone to shoot off from your notes like a bike into a briar patch. Nothing can run amok like a mouth. Sometimes you catch errant words as fast as you say them and you snatch them back before they land. No harm, no foul.

Other times, if you’re like me, on more than a rare occasion you start the second day of a conference apologizing for something you said on the first day. I am happy to report that in 3 decades of speaking and teaching, I’ve found groups to be refreshingly forgiving and gracious and lighthearted when you own up to something misspoken, particularly if it happened to have been funny. You get a fair amount of leash with funny, I’ve found, as long as you don’t cross a line. Of course, sometimes you don’t know you’ve crossed a line until you do it. Thankfully, most people give you the benefit of the doubt and, frankly, feel sorry for you for frying your own self up like a chicken.

In the words of Solomon, when there are many words, sin is unavoidable. (Proverbs 10:19 HCSB) Translation: talk less, sin less.

A few years ago I said something to a group that haunts me. I’m writing this article because I want to take it back. I’d like to blame the group because they were vocal and hilarious and egged me on. But I won’t. It was my own big mouth. As usual, it wasn’t in my notes. I’d do better with my messages if I wouldn’t look up from the podium but that’s no fun. I love faces; round ones, square ones, white ones, brown ones. I love faces. Anyway, spontaneity can be a lovely thing and sometimes the Spirit of God speaks most clearly through a word that comes to the speaker completely unscripted. This wasn’t one of those times.

I was talking about how territorial women can be. The group was all riled up in the subject matter with me, amening and nodding so I just kept prodding. “Not all territorialism is inappropriate, mind you,” I said, the bike now wobbling to the left. “For instance, if a woman lays a flirtatious hand on my husband, I’m liable to take her arm off at the neck.”

That’s a near-enough truth or I might die trying.

And that’s when my mind suddenly leapt from the sacred page of Scripture to the 1966 lyrics of that legendary queen of country music, Loretta Lynn. So, I just went with it and said…

Cause you ain’t woman enough to take my man.

Since some of your parents were still in diapers when this feisty ballad blew up the AM radio dial, I’ll bless you with the rest of the song. Come on, now. Pat your foot. A country song doesn’t get better than this.

 

You’ve come to tell me something you say I ought to know
That he don’t love me anymore and I’ll have to let him go
You say you’re gonna take him oh but I don’t think you can
Cause you ain’t woman enough to take my man
Women like you they’re a dime a dozen you can buy ’em anywhere
For you to get to him I’d have to move over and I’m gonna stand right here
It’ll be over my dead body so get out while you can
Cause you ain’t woman enough to take my man 

Sometimes a man start lookin’ at things that he don’t need
He took a second look at you but he’s in love with me
Well I don’t know where they leave you oh but I know where I’ll stand
And you ain’t woman enough to take my man
Women like you they’re a dime…
No you ain’t woman enough to take my man

 

The first time I sang that chorus word-for-word, I wasn’t even woman enough to shave my legs. But, here I am full-grown and I can still spit those words out with sparks coming off my tongue.

Which is precisely what got me into this mess.

And that’s when I pedaled that bike in a blur of feet straight through the bushes:

And if she IS woman enough to take your man, you better woman-up! 

The crowd went wild. We hooted and hollered and howled. We came dang near to throwing our shoes. We nearly drowned in our own estrogen.

Say to somebody beside you, “You better woman-up!”

And they did. Nice and loud.

We were women copping an attitude. Shaking our index fingers and wagging our heads. Women back-talking other women who’d had the gall to swish their petticoats into our territory. Girlfriend better step back because she doesn’t know who she’s messing with. It was hilarious.

And stupid.

Listen. You’re woman enough even if some other girl did take your man.

You’re woman enough even if you’ve been ditched by a man for nobody but himself.

You’re woman enough even if you’ve been thrown out and rejected.

Overlooked.

Unloved.

Unnoticed.

You’re woman enough even if you’ve never had a man.

You’re woman enough even if you’ve never put on a stitch of make-up or darkened the door of a nail salon.

You’re woman enough even if you couldn’t care less about what purse you pick up.

If you’ve lost both breasts to cancer and don’t have a hair on your head, you’re still 100% woman enough.

None of those things make you a woman. Your Creator makes you a woman.

It’s not just men who can make us feel like we don’t measure up. It’s other women. We’ve got enough voices in this world telling us that we’re not enough. God forbid that we who are called to serve women echo the charge. Let’s watch our mouths out there. I’m talking to myself first.

Hopscotch through the Scriptures and you’ll watch God get a hold of one woman after another who didn’t seem to be woman-enough in her world.

As it turned out…

Hagar was woman enough. (Genesis 16)

 

Sarai was woman enough. (Genesis 17:15-19)

 

Rahab was woman enough. (Joshua 2)

 

Ruth was woman enough. (Ruth 1-4)

 

Naomi was woman enough. (Ruth 1-4)

 

Hannah was woman enough. (1 Samuel 1)

 

Elizabeth was woman enough. (Luke 1:5-25)

 

Anna was woman enough. (Luke 2:36-38)

 

The Samaritan woman was woman enough. (John 4)

For crying out loud, Jesus even saw to it that the sinful woman in Luke 7 was woman enough.  We’d assume Mary was woman enough from the start because she was handpicked by God but I’m asking you whether or not you think you’re woman enough. God handpicked you, too.

This is what makes a woman enough. And a man enough.

 

So God created man in His own image,

in the image of God He created him;

male and female He created them. (Genesis 1:27 ESV)

We are worthy of mutual honor and esteem because God granted such graces to humankind when He fashioned us in the palm of His hands.

 

When I look up at the heavens, which Your fingers made,

and see the moon and the stars, which You set in place,

Of what importance is the human race, that You should notice them?

Of what importance is mankind, that You should pay attention to them,

and make them a little less than the heavenly beings?

You grant mankind honor and majesty.  (Psalm 8:3-5 The NET Bible)

 

Several months ago a very dear brother in Christ asked me if I might know a young woman he could set up on a date with a Christian young man he loved and esteemed. Nothing wrong with that but I have lived long enough to break out in hives at the prospect of matchmaking.

Me: Well, what kind of taste does he have? What’s he looking for?

Him: A Christian.

Me: Yep, I get that. Of course.

My friend told me a few other things like high hopes for good looks then slipped this one in as an endnote: And he’d like her to be a virgin.

Dead silence.

Don’t get me wrong. I teach abstinence outside of marriage. I beg girls to wait. I wouldn’t have a woman deal with all the issues of my past for anything. Barreling off the plan of God can bruise a person up. I have a tremendously high regard for both men and women who hang onto their virginity until marriage. Still, something hit me sideways even though I wouldn’t argue for a second about the young man’s right to choose. Each person must know what he or she is capable of handling in the past relationships of a prospective mate.

Is he a virgin? I inquired. Women my age can ask that kind of thing in a context like this and get away with it. I tapped my fingers and waited for an answer.

Him: Well, I think so but, if not, he’s a reconstituted one.

…

And I went off like a bottle rocket.

What he meant was this: if the young man wasn’t a virgin, he’d repented since then and been forgiven and restored by God.

Amen to that.

Me: But the girl couldn’t be reconstituted??

Him: “Yes. Of course. That’s not what I meant.”

And, to be fair, it wasn’t. He’s a great guy. But the persisting double standard that still lurks out there like smog in the smug nearly threw me into a coughing fit. Needless to say, it’s not just male-imposed. We women do it to ourselves. Somewhere way down deep in our souls, we honestly believe that a sinful woman is worse than a sinful man. We so wanted to live up to the woman we planned.

Jesus lived up to the plan. That’s what we need to know.

The righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Romans 3:22-24

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:27-28

My grandmother might have said it like this: what’s grace for the goose is grace for the gander.

Jesus has done more than reconstitute us regardless of our gender anyway. He’s forgiven us, completely purified us, and made us new creations. Men and women alike stood at the foot of the Cross that dark afternoon. Men and women alike stand at the foot of it today.

Incidentally, I still believe in womaning-up when we need to, as long as it’s the kind we find in the folds of Mark 1:29-33.

And immediately [Jesus] left the synagogue and entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law lay ill with a fever, and immediately they told Him about her. And He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up, and the fever left her, and she began to serve them. That evening at sundown they brought to Him all who were sick or oppressed by demons. And the whole city was gathered together at the door.

No matter what has you down, your back to the ground, reach out your hand and put it in the palm of Jesus.

Woman, up.

 

 

 

PS. Because you’ve gotta love her and you might need to grin.

Happy Monday, friends! I don’t want to use too many words here today because Beth has mentioned to me that she’ll update us probably by the middle of the week about their powerful weekend in her own words, but until then, here is the first recap video of 2014. Thanks to David Lowe for his diligent and hard work this weekend and getting the recap to us so quick! We so appreciate it!

Living Proof Live | Minneapolis from LifeWay Women on Vimeo.

Hey Girls!

Yesterday morning our beloved Beth hopped on jet plane (cue Leaving On a Jet Plane) bound for Minneapolis, Minnesota for the first Living Proof Live of 2014. Praise God! When Living Proof Live wraps up at the end of each year, April feels like a century away, yet somehow it sneaks up on us very quickly and the team is back at it about twice a month for nearly six months. That’s a lot of traveling and ministering but to the LPL team it is their honor,  joy and absolute delight. I think I can safely say that Beth never takes one teaching opportunity for granted and especially each year the Lord continues to give her and the team Living Proof Live. She pours herself out at each event as if it would be her last. She walks in humility and gives every ounce of herself and every ounce of the Spirit the Lord would willingly pour out on her, and entrusts the rest to God to do what only He can do. As she says so often, if He doesn’t show up, they might has well not have come, either.

They’ll launch Living Proof Live this year in a church instead of an arena and Beth has expressed her delight over this multiple times! There is something to be said about walking into a place where a body of believers meets every week and receiving something from them while also asking the Lord to leave a deposit in that church before they leave. I have a feeling this is going to be a sweet weekend in so many ways, in fact, it’s already sold out! Thank you, Jesus!

Anyway, I didn’t want this day to pass us by without giving you the opportunity to pray for Beth and the team! If you feel so inclined, by all means, leave a comment praying for them. Ask that the Lord would pour out His Spirit, that He would bring the lost, the broken, the hurting, the wounded and that He would perform miracles. That ladies would come just as they are, no pretense, no insecurity. That they wouldn’t check their baggage at the door but that the would bring it in and let the Lord do a healing work in them! That someone who is 76 would come and hear the Gospel for the first time and be changed forever. It’s never too late! This is what we’re asking for!

Join us? Prayer is the work!

We love you and consider your prayers a gift!

I don’t know if it was my drive from the big city to a small country town on Saturday that rekindled a lost love, but this weekend I fell in love with Texas all over again. And I feel like, because I love you all, I would share why I love my home state so very much. So, if you can put up with some fluff, allow me to brag on Texas for a minute, will you?

1. THE WILDFLOWERS.
Y’all. As mentioned above, I went to an antique show this weekend that is hosted every year in the little town of Round Top, Texas, and this time I happened to drive alongside, what appeared to be, bluebonnet fields forever. It took my breath away. So much so that I had to remind myself to keep my eyes on the road, not on the fields. I wanted to stop and take a picture so bad, but since my drive lent itself to tiny two-way roads, there wasn’t really a good place to pull over. But then, OHBUTTHEN, I came across the most glorious field of all with a little gas station across the road. Clearly I took that opportunity to snap a picture. I braved snakes, and animals, and insects galore, but marvel in this with me for a minute, won’t you?

BECAUSE YOU WOULD HAVE STOPPED, TOO. Texas wildflowers are unmatched. We live in a favored land.

2. Y’ALL.
Yup. Just the word. I love it so much. In fact, when I’m feeling really passionate I tend to use just the word, “Y’all.” And I use it as a complete sentence. It usually means I’m speechless. I even own a shirt that just says, “Y’all”. You’ll never visit Texas without using it at least once, and if you move here? Well, you’ll be ruined forever. And all the Texans said amen.

3. THE SUNSETS.
Texas sunsets for the win, always. Need I say more? We may not have the best landscape in the world, but surely the Lord gave us the sunsets to make up for our lack of mountain ranges and sandy white beaches.

This was really a sunrise on my way to church one morning. Stunning.

4. Speaking of sandy white beaches . . . GALVESTON.
I just witnessed an eye-roll from everyone, I know. But y’all. (Can you hear the passion in my y’all?) Just a couple of weeks ago during spring break, my family from Colorado came in town and we rented a house in Galveston for the week. I was the first to dismiss this idea, because Galveston… But I was proved wrong at every corner. Galveston was beautiful! I repeat, Galveston was beautiful! I don’t know if being there in March had anything to do with it, but it wasn’t humid, sticky and was without a hint of the nasty seaweed that gathers and clumps together in the summer. Don’t believe me? I’ll let the picture do the talking. (Side note: Only Texans can knock Galveston. True story. It’s because we have a love/hate relationship with it. But if anyone else tries to knock it? Rude.)

You can thank the sunsets in Galveston for wooing me every night. It would be safe to label me as a sunset chaser. Obsessed much?

5. My PEOPLE.
Long story short, Texas is where my people are. (Well, MOST of my people anyway.) And by people I mean my family, my friends and my church. Home is where your people are. It’s just a fact.

6. Because I mentioned church… BAYOU CITY FELLOWSHIP.
Listen, I realize my ALL CAPS may come across as me yelling, but I promise you I’m not. It’s just one more way to show my appreciation for my state. But seriously, I told a friend just last week that some of the most godly people I’ve met in my entire life go to my church. Servants at heart, strong leaders (and not just in the church, but in their homes, too, where it really matters), and HUMBLE. Some of the most creative and gifted people go to my church and it is so understated it’s humorous, and I mean that as a compliment. Of course I love my pastor dearly and have mad respect for him, but a church isn’t just the pastor, the worship, the teaching, it’s the people! And the people there, well they’re just good.

I’ll be honest, sometimes working a full-time job and then having to be up very early on a Sunday morning to be at church to serve rubs me the wrong way. I can say with confidence that it is my joy to serve and I wouldn’t trade that for a second, I love to do it, but yes, you would agree that it can also be tiring. One morning a couple of weeks ago I was feeling especially lethargic and had a less than stellar attitude while driving to church, but then I saw this. It’s not common for me to see the sun peak out like this when I get there, and it put a little pep in my step. I was so grateful. And that day? Well, church HAPPENED.

7. TEX-MEX.
If you’ve never experienced true tex-mex, my deepest sympathies to you. You won’t find a better fajita or enchilada than in south Texas. But don’t be fooled, not every Mexican restaurant is created equal. So next time you visit, ask a local and be treated like royalty.

8. Just HOUSTON.
I live just on the outskirts of the city, but I still live in Houston. It may not have the weather of San Francisco, or the scenery of Boulder, or the sights and sounds of NYC, but it’s Houston, and it’s unique, and diverse, and you can pretty much eat any meal from any culture at any time. And the people are nice to boot. It’s just Houston. And it’s just greatness. It’s one of the only places you can go…

From the hip city full of personality…

To watching a Texas-sized thunderstorm roll in during a cool spring evening…

To the country with the cows…

And then find hidden trails nestled in between big city roads and suburbia.

Texas, thank you for being you. You have my heart forever and ever.

Thinking About Thinking from LPV on Vimeo.

Some of you may or may not know that before I came on staff at LPM, I was on staff at the church I had grown up at and worked as the Girl’s Ministry Director in our student ministry department. Having worked mainly with middle school and high school girls, our family life pastor asked me if I would consider coming along on the Father Daughter Retreat to share a few of the teaching times, talk to the dads about girls, and spend some time getting to hang out with the girls themselves. I didn’t hesitate to say yes because it sounded like a fun and different opportunity. Because of my yes, I found myself camping out in the wilderness with a bunch of daddies and daughters on spring weekend. Though my ministry mainly focused on the young women in the student ministry, the majority of the girls that attended this retreat were in elementary school. To say I loved meeting some new five-year-old friends is an understatement. When I was student teaching, Kindergarten happened to be my favorite placement. As you well know, they truly say the most hilarious things! Most elementary girls haven’t learned the gift of a mouth filter.

One evening I was given the interesting opportunity to steal the dads and talk just to them about all things girls. What girls need, different developmental stages and especially what these girls need from their dads. After the initial intimidation (because hello, I’m not a dad nor do I have children), I have to say, it was a blast. All of them were on the edge of their seats, pens out taking notes and asking a lot of questions. I felt as though I was preaching to the choir since they were the ones who brought their girls to a daddy-daughter weekend, but I ended up loving it. To this day, I can honestly say this was one of my favorite teaching opportunities.

The last morning of the retreat they invited my dad to the retreat as well so that he could be a part of a Q&A between us and the dads and daughters. They were given the freedom to ask us anything they wanted. Can you say nerve wracking?

I’m not sure what question prompted this, but my dad ended up telling the story of the day I was born. A little side note in case I’ve never mentioned it before, but I was five weeks early and very tiny. The night I was born my mom, thinking she was in labor, went to the hospital only to be sent home. The doctors were convinced she wasn’t in labor and still had some time. My parents were not home long enough to fall asleep before my mom’s water broke and back to the hospital they went.

To make a long story short, once they got my mom settled in her room, the doctors and nurses left to attend to their other patients when all of the sudden my mom exclaimed that I was coming and I was coming now. In sheer panic mode not knowing what to do, my dad called for the doctor, but realized at that moment that I was indeed coming very quickly. He only knew one thing, someone was supposed to catch me and I was not supposed to fall on the floor.

In one single push I was out and after all was said and done, my dad caught and delivered me just as the professionals were arriving.

Of course, I recall none of this, but have heard the story countless times.

This may seem insignificant to you, but I think it is very special, especially in light of Easter Sunday quickly approaching.

My earthly father delivered me into this world, and my heavenly Father delivered me, from me, at the young age of five. I didn’t know then all that Christ would mean to me now, but I did know then that I wanted to spend eternity with Him.

If I desire anything, I desire to make much of Christ. To intentionally live in a way that brings most glory and honor to Him. Do I do this perfectly? Heck no. Does my desire wane from day to day? Absolutely. I didn’t really grasp that until my senior year of high school, but since then, I have known Jesus as my Deliverer from all of my ugly shortcomings and I am ever so grateful. He loves me too much to leave me the way I am, and I can promise you He feels the same way about you.

Though we should daily celebrate our living Savior, in a few short Sundays we will celebrate a risen Savior corporately. He is risen indeed and is very alive and active. I’m proof of His mighty deliverance and sanctification. Christ was delivered over to death so that we might be delivered from death.

People who don’t know Him as a Deliverer will sit beside us on that day and wonder why we marvel at something we cannot even see, but love and worship anyway, simply because we KNOW Him.

They need to see that He has delivered us from eternal separation with Himself.

They need to see that His deliverance has given us a different perspective on suffering.

They need to see that by delivering us, He alone sustains us.

They need to hear that the same God who brought Israel out of bondage after YEARS and YEARS of wandering is still powerful enough to deliver them out of bondage, too.

They need to hear that it is the enemy who oppresses and that it is Jesus who delivers.

They need to hear our testimony of deliverance from that stronghold that held us captive for 30 years now doesn’t have a hold on us.

They need to hear that this Deliverer loves us independent of what we do, but simply because of who we are.

They need to hear that the Deliverer is intimately acquainted with each and every one of us. Mind blowing, really.

I’m not saying we pretend like it is all fun and games and easy. Quite the opposite, actually, becoming more like Christ is the hardest thing ever. It requires a lot of dying to self, something that doesn’t come naturally to me, to you, to any of us. But knowing Christ as your Deliverer is knowing what true peace is. What true love is. What true grace is. What true mercy is. Knowing that He won’t remove all your trials, but He’ll walk with you through them.

This Deliverer? He’s the only One who offers a love that cannot be earned, but rather, is freely given to anyone that will accept it.

I can promise you this, just like my dad knew someone was supposed to catch me and not let me fall, Christ will catch you. He will not let you fall to the floor. Cry out to Him. He’s got you.

“He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification.” Romans 4:25

“He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us.” 2 Corinthians 1:10

“The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2