Many people who knew me “then” and see me “now” are surprised to see that Lisa Morgan Moore, of all people, is a Christian! My teenage and college years were full of rebellion and deep, dark sin. I’ve been traveling NC, SC, and VA for three years telling the story of why my life changed, and Who changed it. If you need a life change, or want to be inspired by seeing the power of a changed life, listen to my raw, honest, and inspiring story that tells the true meaning of what Christians believe.
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Ain’t no mountain high enough with Jesus as your guide
Hi friends! This week my blog post is hosted at the blog of my friend, Susan Ely. As we face mountains of adversity in our lives, we are not left alone to navigate our way up the rocky terrain. We have a guide, Jesus! This blog post is sure to bless and encourage you, no matter what mountain you are facing.
Click on over to Susan’s blog, SusanEly.com, or follow this link.
There is also a giveaway of a box of seven of my handmade note cards so read the blog all the way to the bottom to participate.
I will be back here at CelebratingWeakness.com in about 10 days with some exciting news in my life (and no, I’m not pregnant LOL).
Sharing is caring. If this post encouraged you, will you share it on Facebook so that it could bless your friends,too? Thanks for helping me to reach more struggling women with encouragement, hope, and grace.
When you can’t see your future, just close your eyes
I met with my mentor this past week. We meet monthly over coffee and we talk about my family, my health, and ministry, among other things. I knew this month that I needed a lot of her wisdom. Do you know that she has all of her wisdom teeth? No wonder she is a wise woman.
When she asked about ministry, I just sighed. I have a blog, but I am tired of its name. I’m a writer, but I don’t feel like writing. I’ve been trying to spearhead a speaking ministry for three years, but no churches are calling with invitations. And I start seminary this month.
Mostly, I’m confused. When I envision my future, this is all I can see:
Noisy trash trucks disturbed my peace in the country
I’m enjoying a glorious morning in New Bern today. The sun is shining through the tall oak trees, the birds are happily waking up to a new day, and the wind is gently whispering in the woods. I spoke to a group of ladies in New Bern last night and I spent the night in a quaint AirBnb cottage in the country. And it came with an amenity that I love: a front porch.
All last night I looked forward to my morning on the porch. I live in an expansive neighborhood in Wilmington on 0.2 of an acre. I love my home and my garden and my neighbors, but to be honest, there is not a lot of peace and quiet there. When I escape to my back porch to enjoy my coffee and the birds and my garden, I’m usually greeted by the sounds of lawn mowers, air conditioners, and lots and lots of cars. So I truly relish a quiet morning in the country.
A true friend is one who chooses you
She has every reason not to like me. She’s known me for almost 30 years so I’ve given her LOTS of reasons. When she was my college roommate in the early 90s, I left her corrective Post-it notes when the dishes weren’t done and when the tea pitcher left brown stains on the counter. As my friend, she has to tolerate my need to plan and schedule and feel in control. She eats where I want to eat and meets when I want to meet and she has to bend to my OCD-like whims and boundaries.
But since I’ve been 18, my best friend Nicole has chosen me. Recently when we met for lunch, she reminded me, “I choose you.”
What can you do when you can’t pray?
I sat in the CVS Pharmacy parking lot. Here I was, again. This time I was not picking up a medication for me for but one of my children. My stomach churned. I wanted to be at home, curled up under my electric blanket, safe from heavy cares and concerns. But my child was sick. Not with a cold, or pink eye, or an ear infection, but with a chronic disease. It was no longer in remission but it had reared its ugly head again.
When faced with the disturbing symptoms, I did not fall to my knees in prayer. I watched Netflix. Every time I tried to pray, I was unsuccessful. I could not think about it. Facing reality was too painful. Thinking of the disease wracking my child’s body broke my heart. Over and over and over. Every time I would think about it, I was crushed.
So I watched Netflix. And read romance novels. And went shopping. Because my fantasy world did not hurt as much as reality.
Have the storms of life left you dismayed?
I quietly rolled over in bed, trying not to wake up my husband. We were on vacation, and I was doing my darnedest to let him sleep until 7 am. So I did what I usually do when I awake early: think and pray. I prayed for friends who were struggling, friends who were sick, and for family members who needed help.
Then I began to pray for my fledgling speaking ministry. As I prayed, I felt a familiar knot in the pit of my stomach. All of my hopes and aspirations were rolled up in that pang of uncertainty about my future.
What if you don’t have a Pinterest-perfect life?
As my body woke up from a night of slumber, so did the constant fear that rolled over and over in my stomach. I had recently completed a three minute speaker promo video and I had shared it with my family and friends, including a lot of pastors and ministry leaders. I even shared it on Facebook. I was unsure how people would receive it. I felt vulnerable. Exposed.
I was terrified of being rejected.
Sharing is caring. If this post encouraged you, will you share it on Facebook so that it could bless your friends,too? Thanks for helping me to reach more struggling women with encouragement, hope, and grace.Does Jesus feel at home in your heart?
How would people describe your home? Friends describe my home as homey, cozy, and peaceful.
As you walk into my foyer, you are welcomed by warm, golden walls and a room filled with cranberry red accents. My plaid couch is as old as my 20 year son, and the slight fraying just adds to its personality. You can sit on that comfy couch and put your feet up on my dented coffee table. You can reach over and grab the afghan that will warm you up on a cold day.
Let’s turn on the gas logs, plug in the twinkling lights on the mantle, and light a few candles. You will hear the sound of peaceful music through the speakers, see the light streaming in through the skylights, and hear the soothing sounds of water in the fountain.
Welcome home.
Sharing is caring. If this post encouraged you, will you share it on Facebook so that it could bless your friends,too? Thanks for helping me to reach more struggling women with encouragement, hope, and grace.How could anyone not want Jesus?
Do you remember your teenage years? Mine were 30 years ago but I remember the 90s quite clearly. Confession: the life I presented to those I wanted to please was much different than the life I was living. On the outside, to my church family and teachers at school, I was kind, helpful, a good student, a good speaker, and a youth group leader. 
But on the inside, I was just as the Bible describes sinners in Titus 3. I was foolish, disobedient, envious, hateful, deceived, and enslaved to lust and pleasure. I will spare you the details, but I was not the person you would want your teenage daughter to be. I did my best to keep this side of me hidden from those I wanted to think well of me, but my friends certainly saw my rebellious side. I was not the perfect little church girl. Far from it.