if I had a twitter...

...this is what I'd tweet...

@lli$on

Monday: Surprise! I still have my V-card. Never had someone "notice" that about me.

Wednesday: You know it's bad when you make a purchase at a certain unmentioned clothing establishment, go to put the receipt in your wallet, only to place it on top of another receipt from already mentioned clothing establishment. Oops.

Friday morning: Who says playgrounds are for kids? Stupid big kid rules.

Friday afternoon: Add something to your [babysitting] resume everyday. Today? Making luminairies.

Friday late afternoon: Never go to a wedding if you were kicked out of the wedding party a month before the big day--unless you plan on showing up in your already purchased bridesmaid dress.

Friday evening: Didn't know you needed gloves to use the elyptical. I should get me some of those.

Friday night: You know you are tired/lazy/exhausted/lacking an Internet connection when you actually contemplate, then start to watch "Hocus Pocus" instead of getting a DVD from downstairs.

Hope you enjoy my thoughts. Clearly I do.

glutton for home

At the start of every year my pastor goes on a rant of some new devotional book or style that he wants us all to do together. Sometimes he promotes a book, or maybe a "through in a year" type of Bible, but his ultimate goal is to get us into the Word. Along those same lines, he is also open about his own personal journey through Scripture and how he approaches his devotional time.

A few years ago he shared with us that each day he devotes two pages of his journal to such a time. On one page he lists at least ten things he is thankful for, trying to be aware of even the smallest things in life. On the other page he spends time using one acronym or another to talk to God (as if God prefers poetry to non-fiction).

Something about the "thankful" page stuck out to me. When 2010 began I decided to utilize a similar style of devotional time, putting emphasis on the thankful. To be honest, I haven't kept up with it as much as I'd like but there is joy in each list I create and a sense of peace. Shoot, even "peace" has made it to the list. As I look back at those lists I notice one thing I am especially thankful for on a regular basis: my home.

For whatever reason I have always had an inclination toward home: being home, playing house, decorating, cleaning, organizing, etc. I love the sense of coming home to a place that is my own. As an introvert I thrive on the energy I receive from being in my own space on my own time, usually alone. However, I grew up in a family of 6 and quickly learned to appreciate the white noise that comes along with it. Knowing someone is in the other room, across the hall, or making a meal in the kitchen comforts me like the scent of dinner cooking and the whir of the washing machine spinning my gym clothes like ocean waves. To me, this is home.

On the other hand, I am not unaccustomed to that feeling of "cabin fever". While I have probably never experienced true cabin fever seeing that I grew up in a warm, coastal climate, my love of home has occasionally given me the sense of needing to get out. So, to the beach, to the pool, to the mall, or a museum I go, only to return to that place of comfort I hold so dear. The fix for cabin fever doesn't take much--just a few hours away and already I'm looking forward to home. I've heard that "absence makes the hear grow fonder" and I'm beginning to think its true.

I'm a glutton for home projects: organizing, sorting, cleaning, throwing away, re-organizaing, cooking, etc. You name it, I probably enjoy doing it (except for those never-ending dishes in the sink). The order I attempt to create keeps me sane and welcomes me each morning as I wake and evening as I walk through the door.

Although my initial intent in ordering my home in such a way is to create a home for myself, I also hope to create a home for every person who walks through the door behind me. I want people to feel the peace I feel as I linger on the couch in my pajamas catching up on reality T.V. while surfing the internet and snacking on popcorn. My hope is that they might join in with me, or better yet, do what they need to do: raid the pantry for snacks, grab a magazine to sift through, snag a blanket to curl up with on the couch, or sit with me and shoot the breeze.

I've heard many times that "home is where the heart is". To be honest I am not totally sure what that means or if there is any truth to the statement. What I do know is that my heart is happy when I am at home.

Now, despite my near obsession with playing house I must admit it's not exactly perfect. Often times you'll find a cluttered pile of unopened mail, un-emtied recycling bins, and a dishwasher that needs running. Stains spot the carpet thanks to a bunch of awkwardly growing jr. high girls. My tub needs scrubbing, and the patio sweeping. No matter how hard I try nothing is ever perfect for long. But these things make home home as much as that whiff of dinner and whir of the wash. I'm not perfect so it's only appropriate that my home wouldn't be either.

Home might be where your heart is, or maybe you left it somewhere and you're missing it dearly. Home is what you make it where you make it; it's who you are and what you're about. Home is where you find peace and joy.

if i had a twitter...

...this is what I'd tweet [photo edition]...

@llison

Wednesday: Didn't know "Little House on the Prairie" was a sponsor of Disneyland. Maybe there'll be a movie?

i do not like junior highers

I got foiled...

...and it kind of made me want to cry.

But I must admit I asked for it:

Good thing I love these girls.

P.S. I just found foil in my bed. Foil sheets=not cool.

i did not go on a blind date

A few things I have not nor would ever do:

I did not agree to go on a blind date knowing little to nothing about the person.

I did not not talk to him on the phone for less than three minutes only 20 minutes before meeting him for lunch.

I did not give this stranger a hug upon meeting him for the first time.

I did not admit within the first five minutes that I work at a church. Normal people don't talk about religion on a first date-that would be taboo and definitely not PC.

I definitely did not order a burger sans bread or cheese. I did not try to avoid explaining my food allergies. Upon explaining them my date did not try to comfort me by saying, "ya, it took me forever to figure out I was allergic to wool." I was not laughing hysterically in my mind. It was absolutely, most definitely not funny.

I was not relieved when he didn't offer to pray for lunch. The last boy I dated never prayed for dinner and it was never awkward. I definitely pray for every meal, snack and beverage regardless of whose company I am in. I'm pretty sure he does too. That's what all good christians do, right?

I did not share my major in college (religion). That would be awkward and potentially make for an awkward conversation with someone not prepared for what they were getting into.

I did not find out he practices a very, very different religion.

I did not admit that I secretly really want a bunny.

We absolutely did not end our date by going to look at bunnies at the pet store.

And I certainly would never point at and pet the bunnies oohing and awing about how cute and fluffy they are. I also did not share that I am really excited about the prospect of naming a bunny.

I did not not know his last name by the time I got home.

I did not make my roommate look him up on Facebook to find out.

Brought to you by Not me Monday.

i simply cannot commit

I must admit my favorite part about blogging has nothing to do with the keys on my fingertips, brainstorming ideas to write about, or even reading the comments people leave. While all those things are grand, and I enjoy each in their own right, for me the most thrilling part is naming the posts.

Despite how naturally the titles seem to come, the irony lies in the fact that I cannot even name my own blog. Sure I thought "Gluten Free-Dumb" was witty at the time, and I still think that's true, but the time has come to turn the page to a new chapter with a new title.

Help me please?

always read between the lines

Earlier I read one of those "letter from the editor" type of articles you find on the last page of a magazine. You know, the ones whose primary purpose is to get you to see that final ad on the inside back cover, er, I mean read to the very last page. These articles tend to be somewhat inspirational, bordering on influential. If not that, they at least make you stop to think for a minute, realizing the truth of the words spelled out by the editor from thousands of feet up in the air, then feel a slight twinge of guilt for not being able to live your life with such freedom/discipline/patience/some-other-positive-life-style-we'd-all-like-to-strive-for.

But today I noticed something a little different. To be honest I don't totally remember the point of this particular 100-word article. I remember the picture that took up 75% of the page, but not the point. However, one thing did stand out to me. The editor/author made a comment about being "overwhelmingly busy, like all of you." To which I thought, "that's not true." While that may be true for some, I can't exactly say the same for myself. If I compare my life to what I perceive her life to be like, I'm the tortoise and she's the hare. This wasn't always the case, even though her "busy" has and will always be worth a lot more than my "busy" (monetarily that is).

While those thoughts might make a person feel a little down about themselves-shoot, a year ago it would have made me feel down about myself-my next thought was, "I don't really want that life". I don't want the "overwhelmingly busy" life so many people love, or rather, find value in. I'm not happy when my life is characterized by anything considered overwhelming.

Now, I realize you might be thinking, "yes darling, just wait until you have kids" or "maybe you are becoming complacent" or "oh sweetie, you are so young and naive" but I am going to go out on a limb here and say that to at least some extent you determine the life you live. I realize there are many, many factors that play into where life leads. Even I have been overwhelmed by life in the last few years (haven't we all?). So while I may be young and naive, I know enough to say that people who are overwhelmed are not fun. Overwhelmed people are stressed, emotional, don't think straight, confuse easily, and are short with others. I don't want to be that person. I don't like that person, so why would I want to be them? I will not call the kettle black.

The impact of these thoughts was only made greater by the fact that as I read the article I was being held by an 18 month old sleeping baby boy. From here I could have laid this sweet boy on the couch to do the dishes, sweep the floor, and pick up the house for his seemingly overwhelmed mother, but instead I chose to sit with my cheek resting on his toe-head locks filtering the warmth permeating from the heavy weight that rested on my chest. Instead I chose to live in the moment, to rest in the moment. How often does a bouncing, running, jumping, climbing 18 month old boy want to cuddle and rest on your chest in the mid-morning hours of a house waiting to be wrecked?

From this article I learned two things:

1. Live in the moment

2. Read between the lines

The message I found was not the one intended. I'm glad I found it though. I'd much rather live in the moment and actually be present in my own life. You've heard the phrase "stop and smell the roses" and after a mid-morning slumber we literally did just that. So go, find some roses, by yourself or alone, and smell them. Really smell them. They really do smell good. "Rose" is not just a perfume, not just a scent created by man to make woman smell sublime. It comes from good ol' nature and it smell better coming from that coral rose in your neighbor's garden than it does from the dusty perfume bottle buried in your medicine cabinet.

Being present is more than raising your arm to have your name checked off a list. Presence is a mindset. It is realizing this world is bigger than you are. It is acknowledging that you are not in control. There is no need for complacency, just the ability to be present and willing to read between the lines.

things i'm learning (this week)

1. Where some might call me "delicate" I'd call it confidence.

I'll let you decide for yourself.

2. When you ask God to surprise you, he doesn't doesn't let you down.

(more on this later)

3. The text smile or " : ) " is the boy version of text-flirting.

We've all heard of "sexting" but what about 'tirting"?

Oh yes, I went there.

Texting + Flirting = Tirting.

Sounds like you might need to change your skivvies, right? In my highest hopes the term will stop people from doing it considering it sounds like you're about to mess in your drawers, but I'm not about to bet my favorite chones on it. Clearly "sexting" did not stop sex-texting. Look, I'm not saying this term is going to catch on, but if it does--I'm just saying I deserve a little credit for it. If you're judging me right now--you're just jealous you didn't think of it. If you're laughing at me right now--good job. That's was my goal.

4. Sometimes no plan is the best plan.

5. Separation brings out the worst in people and change gives you the option to sink or swim.

6. God knows timing way better than I do.

7. According to Scripture cleanliness is not next to Godliness. However, planning (my other vice) might actually be next to Godliness.

"For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Now if only I could rationalize my other vices with Scripture.

"In the beginning God created the heavens and peanut butter." Genesis 1:1

8. God doesn't like to give it to us all at once. He'd rather give us just enough to keep us going. Wonder why? I guess to keep us needing him...apparently he prefers it that way.

9. Yes I have a blog, but social media scares the crap out of me.

What have you learned?

if I had a twitter...

...this is what I'd tweet:

@llison

Friday: If you're not floor two you smell like poo.

Late Saturday: Tupac lives-call me.

Later Saturday: "Santa Maria is NOT the OC--I think we're in TJ."-White people

Sunday: "Guys, let's talk about the sweaters on my teeth right now. Why are they ready for winter? Who has some toothpaste?"-Mo $

the experiment

You might think we're obnoxious, you might think we're insane. We're a little less PC than maybe we ought to be, and we don't really seem to care a whole lot what you think we are. We're loud and obtrusive, the life of the party. You might think we're a sorority or Christian club gone awry, but the one thing we are is an experiment. That is, floor 2.

In true little sister form I carried on the tradition of starting my freshman year of college on floor 2. From the beginning we were a force to be reckoned with, a breed of our own. This floor might be different than floor 2's of decades past, but we're not one you want to (or can) forget.

What fascinates me most is something I learned tonight, from the mouth of babes. We might never have been. Why? Because we were an experiment. Despite our differences there is something that brought us together. And I don't mean that in the "there is a reason for everything" or "God has a plan for your life" kind of way, although both might very well be true. What brought us together? Fashion. Ironically it was the one part of me that didn't want to be there, the part of me that dreamt of big cities, design classes, and sewing tutorials. But for the time being, those dreams were put aside in place of Bible classes, morning chapel, and the Caf.

I think we all put something aside to be there. Something that ultimately brought us all together. We might not last. We may not get along. We might blow up. But we were worth a shot. In 6 years we've fought, forgotten, disagreed, and BloWn UP. In 6 years we've laughed together more than a group of laughing yogis. Laugh at what you ask? Mostly each other. We've spent time apart--weeks, months, even years. We've been the thorn in each other's sides. We've crossed boundaries and said too much.

The thing that stands out to me most now though is that we've changed. For the better.

It's been incredible to see the transitions each of us have made or experienced in our own lives. We're married, we're having babies, engaged, single, confident, fun, beautiful, driven. Every last one of us is fighting for what we want in life, and laughing at ourselves and each other in the meantime.

Gone are the days of sneaking around together or behind each other's backs. Gone are the days of sneaking out, sleeping in, sneaking others in, and taking midnight runs to satisfy our midnight munchies and secure our bodies' hold onto our freshman 15. Gone are our insecurities and unhealthy dependencies. We are a force to be reckoned, a powerhouse of personality. Personalities that might not always blend, but can be laughed at nonetheless. We are each unique in our own right. We live our own lives and count different blessings. But we are and will always be--floor 2.

woman with issues

Do you ever wonder who reads your blog? Well, I do.

I write these semi-random blogs, post them to the internet as if I am the only one who knows the words I've spelled out, as if they are written in my personal journal hidden under my mattress (OK, not really), but then people actually read them. People I know? A few. People I don't? Apparently a few more than I realized. How do I know? Well, I'm also one of those people who tracks how many people come to my blog. Yes, I am curious like that. It's definitely not a popularity contest, just curiosity.

Speaking of which, what brings people to this blog? I wonder what rabbit trail they went on to get here. I'm sure I'm misleading people by my blog title. I must admit the title represents a period of bitterness. But now, however many months later, instead of *gasp* bitching about it I'm trying to do something about it. How, you ask?

1. Visiting a doctor

2. Praying

3. Enjoying life and laughing a lot

While some of these options might seem to be obvious, it is not so. It takes a lot more effort than you might imagine to do any of these things. Why? Because each of these things requires action. Each requires a conscious effort. Each requires faith. Healing is not for the lazy person.

"As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. ⁴³And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her. ⁴⁴She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.

⁴⁵"Who touched me?" Jesus asked.
When they all denied it, Peter said, "Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you."

⁴⁶But Jesus said, "Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me."

⁴⁷Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. ⁴⁸Then he said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace."

The woman in this passage made an effort, a big effort, to be healed. She had faith. She took action. This woman was not lazy, but instead stepped out in faith with unwavering confidence that she would be healed. For her it was not a question of if she would be healed, but instead, "how will I get to Jesus?". She had exhausted all of her options (verse 43) and knew Jesus was the answer. How often is it that we wait until we've exhausted all the options in our control before going to Jesus? We treat Jesus like a savings account: it won't last forever, so only use it when you have to. And it better be for something good.

We go to Jesus in desperate moments when we don't know what else to do. He's a great resource, but not one we want to use up. How messed up is that? We rape the earth each day with our water bottles, plastic bags, styrofoam cups, and diaper-filled landfills leaving it high and dry for the generations after us, but we can't go to God in faith that he, the Creator of all we've destroyed, the Great Physician can heal us. That he can redeem us. That he love us.

I am thankful for God's grace. Thankful he puts up with my crap. Thankful he understands me even better than I will ever understand myself. Scripture says, "ask and it shall be given to you..." (Matthew 7:6) so here I am, asking for healing. I'm taking steps towards healing, taking action and putting more faith into it than I ever have before. I know God is has the bigger picture in mind, and trusting that somehow I fit into it.

Wish me luck.

pearls of wisdom and other thoughts

I've learned a few things recently. Please enjoy my pearls of wisdom (or just the things that go through my brain).

1. We in Children's Ministry really, really like to label things:

No, I did not label this but someone definitely did.

2. I can make a mean Banana Bread.

3. No matter how crazy people think I am I still really, really want a bunny.

I mean, come on, how awesome is this?

4. 5am will always be an ungodly hour of the morning.

5. April showers bring May flowers, and 5th grade girls are flirts.

6. Boys are dense, at all ages.

7. You know how people always say "Oh, I can't have another show, I already have too much to keep up with in my [fill in type of T.V. recording device of your choice]"? Well, I never knew the feeling, until know. For a girl who grew up on Wayne's World, Encino Man, Clueless, Son-in-Law, The Simpsons, and all other quality 90's T.V. and movies, this is a very unfortunate revelation.

8. Spencer Pratt might be the only thing to make both God and the Devil laugh.

9. The iPhone is either the "best ministry tool ever created" or a loaf of bread in the desert, i.e. a gift from Satan.

10. Everyone should make it a priority to watch "MTV Jams" after 10pm for this and other incredible and necessary television.

11. Junior highers and sprinkles should never be in the same sentence, nor in the same room.

And here is what I have yet to learn: At what point did posting >100 word thoughts and activities become a career? i.e. Twitter. Answers welcome.