Shielded

No matter how carefully we plan our steps, God is the one who ultimately directs our path. Every disruption could be a divine appointment if we have eyes to see it. I've learned after years of watching God work through security teams that some of the most powerful ministry happens when our perfectly planned schedules get completely wrecked. When we're forced off our predetermined path, we often find ourselves exactly where God wanted us all along.

Think about Jesus for a minute. His ministry was basically one holy interruption after another. He was on His way to heal Jairus's daughter when a woman with chronic bleeding touched His robe. He was trying to retreat with His disciples when thousands of hungry people showed up needing spiritual and physical food. He was passing through Jericho when a short tax collector climbed a tree to see Him. But Jesus never treated these unexpected moments as inconveniences. He saw them as opportunities. Divine appointments disguised as disruptions.

Yes, we need plans and procedures and backup strategies. But we also need the flexibility to recognize when God is redirecting our steps for reasons we might not understand.

 Someone has to be on the lookout for abusive leaders, and it might as well be us. So let's ask ourselves, am I keeping an eye out for threats, not just from the outside, but from the inside? Issues like leaders demanding excessive control, unquestioning obedience, or discouraging independent thinking, well, we have got to address those if we see them.

Has anyone told us that they felt guilty or fearful, abandoned or disconnected in regards to any leader, whether it's a pastor or someone up the chain of command? To create church cultures and communities that are welcoming and safe, we've got to step up to address issues where others remain silent. God entrusted us to guard His flock from all dangers, even those that come from within the fold.

 People in your congregation and in the neighborhoods that you patrol are facing threats you don't even know about. Just like David, they have their own Goliaths. Don't forget that not only was Goliath much taller than David, he was a trained warrior. It was a huge mismatch.

People facing a Goliath in their own lives often feel as Saul did, defeated before the fight even gets started. Sometimes we just need a David. Somebody needs you to be their David. It wasn't by chance that God had David trained as a shepherd and not a warrior, and it's not by chance that you're training to be a safe person for your flock or your community.

 David didn't panic. He just took care of business. While it's obviously impossible to predict every threat, we can enhance security, establish solid emergency procedures, and nurture a culture of preparedness. Just as David used his shepherding skills to protect his flock, we're called on to use our skills to be vigilant shepherds in our own congregations and neighborhoods.

Have you ever left a church service feeling hurt, confused, or wondering if what you heard was really from God? In this episode, I share a personal experience that changed how I view spiritual discernment. After hearing a pastor make an incredibly hurtful statement, my husband and I quietly made the decision to never return. That moment reminded me that the words spoken from a church platform carry tremendous weight.

Drawing from 1 John Chapter 4, we'll explore why Scripture tells us to "test the spirits" instead of automatically accepting every message that begins with, "God told me." Discernment isn't about being cynical or critical—it's about faithfully filtering truth from error. Just as church safety teams and law enforcement officers are trained to stay alert to physical dangers, Christians are called to stay spiritually alert as well.

In this episode, you'll discover:

• Why spiritual discernment is essential for every believer.
• What it means to "test the spirits" according to Scripture.
• How harmful teaching can wound people who are already hurting.
• Why claiming "God told me" doesn't automatically make a message true.

Whether you're a church leader, ministry volunteer, church safety advocate, or a law enforcement officer, this conversation will encourage you to anchor your faith in God's Word rather than human opinion.

If this episode encourages you, be sure to follow the podcast, leave a review, and share it with someone who wants to help build churches that are physically, emotionally, and spiritually safe.

Right after Jesus tells the disciples about His upcoming suffering and death, these two basically say, "Cool story, Jesus, but when You're famous, can we sit next to Your throne?" Not really reading the room there. But Jesus, with more grace than most of us could muster, doesn't laugh them out of the room. Instead, He teaches them what greatness actually looks like: not lording authority over people, but laying your life down for them.

For first responders and church security teams, that's not just a nice sentiment — it's the job description. Real greatness isn't the seat you get; it's who you're willing to serve, even when it costs you something. Join us as we dig into Mark 10:35-45 and talk about what it means to lead like a servant when the job gets hard.

This week we're going to dive into 2 Timothy 4:1-5. Every first responder and church security leader knows that sinking feeling. Whether you're managing a chaotic Sunday morning incident or holding the line when everything's falling apart, leadership under pressure isn't a theory — it's a test you didn't sign up for but can't walk away from.

In this episode, we're talking about what actually happens when the script goes out the window. The weird stuff. The unexpected stuff. The stuff they didn't cover in training. And more importantly — how real leaders adapt, stay calm, and bring their team through it.

If you've ever had a moment where you thought, "This is NOT what I prepared for" — this one's for you. Listen in, then pass it to someone on your team who needs to hear it.

 Back during my years as a private investigator, a lot of what I did was deliberately discreet. It's just not really a good business practice to let someone that you're surveilling know that you're there. There were also times that even when I could be seen and heard, my true purpose was disguised. Blending in was part of the assignment.

The truth is, I was never there for attention. I was there for results, and that's what allowed me to be most effective. And sometimes, as first responders and as security in our churches, our best work is discreet as well. We're not after recognition, we're after readiness. More often than not, our very best work is never even noticed because a crisis didn't happen, a situation didn't escalate, and someone was protected without even knowing it.

 When we serve our community or our church without recognition, stay alert without applause, protect without praise, well, that's when the work we're doing, our, our service, it becomes worship And what I think is so beautiful about God's economy is we know that He sees it all. Every time we choose to remain kind when someone's being difficult, every prayer we whisper while we're doing our jobs, every time that we put the needs of others before our own comfort or convenience, He sees that.

Being self-sufficient might look admirable from the outside, but Scripture makes it very clear. Isolation is exhausting. Ecclesiastes chapter four reminds us that the solo act is a miserable task. That might not be how we describe it in the next team meeting, but we all know what it feels like. We show up.

We're doing all the things, but it starts to wear on us physically, emotionally, and spiritually. We start wondering, "Who am I doing this for?" And just like that, purpose starts leaking out of us like a cracked baby bottle in a church nursery bag. Here's a good reminder. None of us is meant to hold the line alone.

 Nehemiah chapter 4 opens with wonderful progress in Jerusalem. The wall was halfway re-built, and the people had a mind to work. The vision was coming to life. So of course, that means cue the resistance from neighboring communities who preferred the dysfunction exactly as it was. But I think that when we get pushback, it often confirms that we're doing something worthwhile.

When we start building safer spaces for people to meet with God or just a safer space in a really troubled time in an individual's life, when we establish healthy boundaries and welcoming environments, there's going to be some disruption, and that's normal. We're going to get complaints from people who just don't get it, and I know from my own experience that that can be so discouraging. 

So take heart in Nehemiah's success. He made a secure wall, and a safe place for people to meet with God.

Authority can trip us up, security and law enforcement both, because we're not really in charge. We're under orders. The chief shepherd is already there wherever we are. A sheriff enforces the law of the land with authority and consequence because power comes from that badge. People comply because they have to.

But a shepherd, they protect with love and lead by example. Influence flows from character and genuine care, and people will follow them because they want to. Both matter and both are important. But those of us that are policing God's house, we're shepherding with hearts of love, not just with a badge Jesus had every right to lord his authority over people. He was literally God incarnate. But how did he lead? He washed feet. He welcomed children. He ate with sinners. He said, "Come to me, all you who are weary." Jesus could have demanded compliance, but instead he chose to invite participation. That's shepherd leadership.

If you fly often, you might be tempted to tune out the safety demonstration that happens before takeoff. But I just love the part where the flight attendants remind everyone that if the oxygen masks drop, you have to put your own on first.

Why? Because if you don't, you won't be of any use to anybody else. To take care of others like we do, you have to take good care of yourself first. We live in a world that's obsessed with so-called self-care. Bubble baths, binge-watching, and buying that latte because... Well, because they're delicious, but I'm getting off track here a little bit.

Don't get me wrong, I will never turn down a good candle and some quiet time. But what our souls need more of isn't just self-care. It's soul care, a steady rhythm of returning to God's presence, being reminded who we are and who He is, and letting His Word speak louder than the world's noise. Our ability to lead, love, forgive, stand firm, speak up with grace, or step back when wisdom calls--it all begins with the condition of our hearts. 

Emmett Rhodes might just be one of the most talented people that you've never heard of. This guy was absolutely incredible. He wrote all his own songs, he played every single instrument on his albums, sang all the vocals, and he recorded everything himself in his home studio. Talk about a one-man show. He literally did it all, and he did it brilliantly.

But here's the thing, just because you can do everything doesn't mean you should. Do you ever feel that pressure on the job or at church? Like we're supposed to be the answer or have the answer for every safety concern, every crisis, and every faith question that walks through our doors? It's good to remember that what we really need to do is stay connected to the One who really does have all the answers.

Psalm 84 paints this gorgeous picture of what life looks like when we make God our home base: "Blessed are those whose strength is in You, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage." Whether we ever set foot in the actual Israel or not, we're all on this journey toward deeper connection with Him. And every Sunday, every shift we work, every quiet prayer we whisper behind the scenes—we're helping clear the path for someone else to take their next step on that journey.

We're not just holding doors and scanning parking lots. We're holding space. Sacred space. Space for people to ugly-cry during worship without worrying about judgment. Space for them to raise their hands in surrender without fear of ridicule. Space for them to be completely known and still be completely welcomed.

That's holy work, people. And it's definitely not for the faint of heart.

There will come a time for each of us, just like it did for the first disciples, when we find ourselves surrounded by the metaphorical wolves of this world. And honestly, if we're doing our work right, we're probably encountering them more often than most people.

Jesus was telling his team, Hey guys, you are gonna get dragged into court, beaten up and face off against powerful people who might want you dead. Any questions? Not exactly the kind of job description that gets people lining up, right? He prepared them for the worst case scenario because he loved them too much to let them walk into danger unprepared.

I'm one of those people who could sit and stare at a campfire or a set of flickering candles just for hours. There's something about that dancing light and that soft little crackling sound that just seems to melt my stress away. But flames aren't exactly comforting for everyone, and that makes me think about Isaiah watching an angel coming at him with a burning coal. That would terrify me! But God, in his incredible mercy, used that burning coal from the altar to cleanse Isaiah instead of consume him.

That same Jesus who walked through the literal fire with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walks through our fires with us today. Let's connect this up to the kind of work that we do week in and week out. We're in positions where we might have to make split second decisions about people's safety. We might have to confront situations that really make us uncomfortable. We might have to stand up to authority figures who are crossing lines they should not be crossing. Sometimes our calling puts us in the fire. And we need to remember that we're not in there alone.

Jesus calls Himself both "the Gate for the Sheep" and "the Good Shepherd," and honestly, both descriptions nail what we do. Think about gates for a minute—they've got two jobs. When they're shut, they keep out thieves, troublemakers, and anything else that has no business being there.

When they're open, they invite everyone who's seeking refuge and life to enter. That's us in a nutshell: standing watch to keep danger out while warmly welcoming those who come to worship.

Jesus warns about people who "climb in by another way"—predators who put serious effort into finding ways to harm the flock. And let me tell you, Jesus wasn't kidding when He said wicked people are "industrious" in their efforts to cause harm. But here's the beautiful part: Jesus also promises that His sheep know His voice. In a world absolutely saturated with false shepherds, distractions, and straight-up noise, God's people are drawn to truth. Part of what we do is create an environment where His voice can cut through all the chaos and be heard clearly.

Let me ask you something. Have you ever pulled traffic duty for an event? Oh, the joys of standing in a parking lot with a reflective vest trying to convince people that yes, you do know what you're doing, and no, they can't just park wherever they please. Drivers aren't paying attention. Shocking, I know.

Bad weather turns everything into a slippery mess, conflicting directions from well-meaning volunteers can lead to frustration and sometimes even full-blown road rage right there in the parking lot. Because nothing says Christian Love like honking at the lady trying to help you find a parking spot, right?

Providing a safe atmosphere for events involves way more than good access control, and having plenty of those orange traffic wands that make us look so official. But let's be real. Not everyone sees what we see or knows what we know, which means we need way more than tactical training in reflective gear.

We need to earn the reputation of being the place for hurting people to come.

We can learn a lot from Paul's description of the "Man of Lawlessness": when he shows up (whenever that is), he'll consider himself above all law and completely without responsibility to others. He'll worship power instead of serving God, and he'll serve himself instead of serving others. Sound familiar?

We might not know who the ultimate Man of Lawlessness will be, but we've definitely seen people who fit this profile. Satan isn't called the Father of Lies for his charming personality. Anyone who embodies this lawless spirit will worship themselves—doing whatever they want to get whatever they want, not caring about consequences. 

So here's our wake-up call: this lawlessness doesn't always show up with a gun. Sometimes it walks around wearing a smile and carrying a Bible. Be on the lookout for weapons of emotional abuse, spiritual manipulation, high-control tactics, and other threats that can devastate our people just as effectively as physical violence. Our job isn't just about stopping the obvious bad guys (though we absolutely rock at that)! We're also standing guard against the subtle destroyers, the ones who use God's name to justify ungodly behavior, who twist Scripture to control and manipulate, who prey on the vulnerable under the guise of ministry.

Protectors keep people physically safe, but we're also called to be spiritually and emotionally strong, building people up in whatever ways we can. We're not just protecting bodies, we're protecting hearts and spirits too.

God asks us to reach people, and people come with baggage. Lots of baggage, messy, complicated. Sometimes downright exhausting baggage.

We need God's supernatural endurance and encouragement to be able to tackle those problems, and really, if we're being brutally honest, to respond to our own hot messes as well. We need to be able to look at people with love instead of rolling our eyes. Of course, our natural inclination is to be suspicious.

We see potential problems often before we see potential ministry opportunities. It is literally in our DNA. But here's what I've learned. If we can shift that perspective, if we can start seeing problems as chances for ministry. We don't just help others. We get front row seats to see God's glory in action.

As first responders and security people, we're wired to handle everything ourselves first and ask questions later. It's literally in our DNA to assess, respond, and protect. But sometimes we face storms that are bigger than our tactical training, our situational awareness, and our carefully crafted emergency procedures combined.

The disciples were competent professionals who got blindsided by something beyond their expertise. Sound familiar? The difference is, they had the good sense to turn to the One who could actually do something about it. 

God is not just on our side—He's actively working through our service. Our Savior doesn't just want to calm our storms; He's standing ready to do it the moment we stop trying to white-knuckle our way through everything alone.

This is Shielded- short, weekly devotions where faith meets the frontline. Hosted by church security advocate, Lori Morrison who talks about the calling police and security personnel have answered and the God who stands watch with us.

Every week we're gonna tackle something real, something you've been thinking about at 2:00 AM or you've processed on your drive home. We'll dig into scripture. We'll get practical, and we'll make sure that you are staying spiritually sharp, not just tactically ready.

Lock and Load Shepherd. Our people need us at full strength.