Temporarily Sweet

When I wrote my last status update on Facebook, …“it’s temporary, ya’ll,” I wasn’t thinking about anything but the star tattoo I have adorned on my foot since the second night of our family beach vacation. The caption matched the new profile pic I posted, one of my stubby 5-toed foot and said star. In case you’re curious…
I wrote the update/caption after wondering if any of my ink-rejecting, conservatively wired friends would palpatate and think I’d lost my mind at Myrtle Beach and gotten a real one (tattoo, that is) when they saw the picture.

Not yet, friends. Not just yet. ☺

But when I cracked open my Bible this morning and read this passage in Job, I couldn’t help but see the irony in my own words…

“Like something rotten, human life fast decomposes, like a moth-eaten shirt or a mildewed blouse.” (Job 13:28 The MSG)

Ok, first let me say what you’re probably thinking……ewwww.

Not the typical word picture I enjoy when looking for nourishment from God’s Word. But as always, truth greets me everytime I open my Bible, whether it be something that soothes my soul or stirs it.

Call me crazy, but I think I know what Job was thinking. I think what he’s trying to say here is that “it’s temporary, ya’ll.”

Not just spray-painted on tattoos, of course. Someone schooled at the Hard Knock Academy would not be so trite as to be referring to that.

Instead he is talking about…that thing called…life.

I should know this from my own personal experience, especially since I just returned from a long weekend in a place I called home for 13 years of mine. I’m long gone since my residency there. I’ve since made a new home for myself in a different part of the country and different time zone. But at the time I lived there, it seemed like I might live there…forever.

Between the tattoo and the thoughts of my recent trip to a place I called home, I find comfort in the spiritual application.

Strangely enough, both have reminded me that my life here on earth is temporary. I have no idea how “temporary” for me is measured on days I am breathing, but it really doesn’t matter. Amidst all the “don’t knows” of my life, the one thing I am as sure of as the fact I am math challenged is that I am not staying put here forever. One day I’ll be gone. So will you, by the way.

As hard as it may be to fathom or admit, neither you nor I was put here on this earth to be a wife or a mom or a friend or a child or an attorney or a neighbor or a church-goer or a cousin or a really good person. My personal opinion is that God is gracious enough to give us those beautiful “roles” in life to allow us to endure the scratches and dents this world bestows on us while on the journey. (Kind of like ice cream made shots from the doctor a little bit easier to deal with, when we were kids…but even better.)

But friends, that’s really not why we are here.

We are not here to make ourselves more convenienced and comfortable, as awesome as that feels.

We are not here to saturate ourselves in fun to the exclusion of remembering our greater purpose.

We are not here to rest in our roles and make ourselves feel better by doing the occasional “good thing” for others.

We are here to make a difference in our circle of influence for God. We are here to do what pleases Him, shouts His fame, and impacts someone’s eternity. We are here to serve as He served, and give people a reason to see life with Him as better than life without Him. We are here to be used by Him for His purpose and His glory – alone. It is an exciting privilege.

It is also a beautiful one.

But the beauty of the temporary doesn’t end there.

Because temporary also means that the aches and pains we feel…the cancer that touches our lives…the difficulties…won’t last forever. (This one's for you, Kris.)

It means that the hurt we experience when someone doesn’t want us around anymore will also leave.

It means that the challenges…the uphill battles…the scramble to make it…the injustices…the negativity of life…will one day be gone.

And it means that our loves…our losses…our beautiful days and our sad ones…our great choices and our really poor decisions…won’t mark our lives permanently.

Because…well…it’s temporary, ya’ll.

So long after my tattoo fades…long after my book writing career is over and my beautiful roles in life change…even when my circle of influence gets smaller and the numbers on the calendar get higher…

I have something sweetly permanent to look forward to.

Dear Springfield...

Hi friends!

I am back, after a several week hiatus from posting. Thank you so much for coming back to hear what’s on my heart! I am traveling to Springfield, Missouri, on Wednesday for a packed week of speaking, book signing and attending my 20-year high school reunion! I am so looking forward to all of it, even though I will miss my family while I am gone. As I sat tonight and reflected on the coming days and going “home,” I couldn’t help but think about all the things God has done in my life to bring me to the point where I am today. I started writing a normal post…but it kind of evolved into something else, so I went with it. Please keep me in your prayers this week, as I share a message with many of my friends and peers from years ago about how God has changed my life. And in the meantime, here’s my post…a letter to the place I used to call “home.”


Dear Springfield,

I am just three days away from seeing you, again. I have to admit, I am hugely excited and a tad bit anxious. What will you look like? Will I recognize you? Will you have changed? My guess is yes. I know I sure have since the last time we were together.

The last time you saw me I was a young woman with a heavy heart. My father had just resigned his 13-year position with a church he knew and loved. I loved it, too. I guess that’s why I cried so much when we got in the car and drove away. At first, there was relief. Ministry was so hard, and it was nice to just be Lisa and not the “preacher’s daughter” for awhile, even under the circumstances. But then it was just weird. I wasn’t sure how to be Lisa anymore, I had been that other preacher’s daughter Lisa for so long.

But I digress.

The point is that I am coming back to see you, a much different Lisa than when I left. Oh, I am still the same girl who detests lima beans, wears uncomfortable shoes, and has never really liked her hair. My tastes in music haven’t much changed. But my heart? Well, let’s just say that there isn’t a big enough word to describe what’s happened in there.

I can’t wait to share it with you.

I know I’ll remember things about you when I see you. After all, I spent 13 years of my life with you, so I SHOULD know you, at least a little. But I’m really not sure if you will recognize me. I’ve changed that much.

When you knew me I thought for sure I knew everything I would ever need to know about life and then some. I hoped the world revolved around me, and I was pretty sure it did.

When you knew me I didn’t realize that I didn’t need to waste my time doing things that wouldn’t benefit my life. I did so many of them, I didn’t really keep track.

When you knew me I was under the impression that I needed to be thin, wear the right clothes, and get the right person to love me to feel endorsed.

When you knew me I had no idea that I could love a God I could not see so much that I wouldn’t need to see Him to know He is real.

When you knew me I didn’t really know myself. Thought so. Hoped so. But didn’t.

So you see, coming back to see you now, after all these years and more than a few life experiences, is an amazing thought. I’m excited to see you. But in the back of my mind I also wonder if you will make me cry. We made so many memories together.

But I am ready to see you, again. I am ready to look back on my life then and praise God for my life now. I am ready to make eye contact with people I love and may not ever see again, this side of heaven. I am ready to share the message of my heart – the message He has pressed on my heart – one of hope through hurt, faith through fire, and the love of the One who covers everything in between.

I don’t come back to you a perfect woman. You’ll see that right away. But I do come back to you a woman who knows who she is, understands where she’s been, and lives for the Jesus who brings her joy.

Thanks for letting me come back and see you, again. It will be sweet to reminisce with you and remember what we shared.