Lisa Harper: A Life of Humility | Full Sermons on TBN

Jesus, Without You, I Can Do Nothing

Lord Jesus, apart from You, I am incapable of doing anything good. I am desperate for Your presence—I cannot reach the living water on my own, nor can I heal myself. I simply cannot do it alone. It is essential for us to humbly acknowledge, “I cannot make it on my own.”

Now, as the eldest sister in my household—at 53 years old—Chris encouraged me to share a message from the perspective of an older sister. This is challenging for me because I love you all so much. I wrestled with whether or not to bring this message to you this morning because, honestly, it’s a tough one.

I don’t hear people talk about this topic often, so I thought, “How can I introduce it without saying it outright?” And I found a way—I’ll simply imply it. Hopefully, it won’t catch you too off guard. The word I’m hinting at is shmenopause.

I’m bringing up this season of life because I’m living it right now, and along with it, I’ve discovered a new spiritual gift—projectile perspiration! I felt compelled to share this because things are about to get wet in here—think SeaWorld!

Three weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat—a pool of my own making. It was uncomfortable, so I decided to get up and make some really hot coffee. My reasoning? Maybe the heat would work like a sauna and trick my body into thinking it wasn’t actually on fire.

I walked into the pantry, expecting a full bag of coffee beans. But when I grabbed the bag, I realized it was nearly empty—just a few beans rattling at the bottom. You ever experience that moment of disappointment? I thought, Oh no, there’s barely enough for one cup! Not a big soup mug, just a regular cup like we used to have.

Determined to make the most of it, I decided to French press the coffee. Who here uses a French press? If you do, you’re probably single—it takes forever! But I pressed the beans anyway, managing to get just enough for one small, steaming cup.

With my precious coffee in hand, I made my way to the kitchen island, ready to sit, savor my drink, and maybe even have a moment of quiet reflection. But as I sat down, my leather barstool betrayed me! Thanks to all that perspiration, I slid—and in the process, I knocked over my coffee.

Half of it spilled across the kitchen island, drenching a stack of papers. At first, I wasn’t sure what they were, but as I looked closer, my heart sank. My coffee had soaked my daughter’s homeschool assignments.

I’m a single adoptive mother, and two and a half years ago, I brought my beautiful daughter, Missy, home from Haiti. She’s seven years old now—and yes, she’s cuter than your pale children!

But in the midst of menopause, my brain decided to take a vacation, and I thought homeschooling would be a brilliant idea for a single, middle-aged woman. And let me tell you—between homeschooling and navigating this stage of life, I’m seriously considering buying a margarita machine for Christmas!

Seeing that Missy’s homework was ruined, I made an executive decision: Today’s lesson was going to be on capitalism, and we were going to the mall!

Just as I finalized this plan, I could almost hear the Holy Spirit whisper, “And it’s okay for you to stop by Starbucks on the way.”

So, when Missy woke up, I told her about our change of plans, got her dressed, threw myself together, and off we went.

Now, this might not happen in Dallas, Arkansas, or Houston, but in Nashville, our Starbucks are staffed by frustrated musicians. Many of them moved here dreaming of winning a Grammy in six months, only to find themselves making lattes instead. Let’s just say, they’re bitter—and I could tell from the voice on the other end of the drive-thru speaker that the barista taking my order was not happy.

Determined to be kind, I placed my order cheerfully. I got apple juice for Missy, and for myself, I ordered my go-to winter drink…