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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3 Powerful breakthroughs I experienced in 2018
As the final days of 2018 draw near, it’s a good time to reflect on the days that have gone by. How do you evaluate a year? How do you determine if it was a good year or a bad one? I’m still imperfect, I’m still weak, and I am still a sin-prone human. But I’m not the same person I was 365 days ago. The God of amazing breakthroughs has changed me in tangible ways this year.
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.
She knew God, and she loved Him
We talk about death quite often in my household, but often in a joking manner. I have given a lot of instructions to my husband and to my children as to what I want to happen when I go to my great reward. Specifically, since I have slept with a Bunny Rabbit every night for the past 23 years, I have asked that she be allowed to join me in my casket in a cozy little snuggle. As to my funeral, although I would love it if everyone would say amazing and wonderful things about me, my children have promised to tell the story of how one day they observed me in a fit of fury throw an orange across the kitchen.
I’ve asked my husband for certain things to be printed on my headstone. I’ve requested so many things that it will have to be a small font, maybe 12 point, I’m sure. But, on a serious note, a few months ago during Sunday morning worship I told God something that I wanted written on my tombstone, seven words that I desperately want to describe my life:
“She knew God and she loved Him.”
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