For Better Or Worse

It's been 1 week since I had a chunk of my head cut out. We are not even going to discuss the itching. The kind of itching you can't touch because it still hurts too much. It's so irritating, I could scream. M'kay?

But, last night, The Husband figured out a way to wash my hair. As well as work out all the clots of dried blood that have been hiding away. This may not seem monumental, but let me tell you my friends, it is. Huge. Amazing.

Hours before this, The Man had willingly gone with me for Homecoming dress shopping. Oh, the glory and goodness. After 19 years, he is still the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

So, today is one of gratitude. Who knew that clean hair and itchy stitches could bring such joy? I hope you find some of your own today. And no, you can't borrow Todd. He's mine :)

Links That Matter

I don't usually talk about God and faith and religion. Sometimes I skirt around the topic or brush over it lightly. But I've never walked through the heart of it. Not here in this space, anyway.

I'm not sure why this is. Because God and faith and religion, are the truest parts of me. Maybe I'm afraid to set the words free that talk about these things. Maybe I just have to trust that you'll take what I'm offering and hold it as if it were your own.

I'm a Mormon. Have been all my life. And the truth of what I believe are the threads that weave my soul together. It makes up the foundation of who I am and how I see the world. I'm pretty sure that's the way Faith is supposed to work. No matter where you go to church.

And today, I'm giving you a talk presented by someone of my same faith. This talk is life changing. Truly. It is the most personal and powerful speech I have ever heard.

His Grace Is Sufficient

I want you to listen to it. It's long. 32 minutes, to be exact. Find the time to watch this. Quiet time. Because you need your whole heart to be present for these words to move you.

It doesn't really matter what church building you park your car at on Sundays. The God I pray to is the same as yours. Faith is still faith, across the board. And this man, Brad Wilcox, teaches all of us how God's Grace fills in all the flaws and cracks and gaps and makes us whole.

Some of the lingo, or phrasing, might be unique to the LDS religion. (If you're curious about any of that, you can find more here.) But the Lord's saving grace is given to every one of us. Every day. In all the ways we fall short. Please take the time to listen to this talk. It will help you to see the truth of who Jesus is and the power He offers to heal your soul.


And then, because I haven't given you enough homework, I want you to read this:

Being Less and More

Edie is one of those women who speaks, and I listen. She (and many others) are writing for 31 days. You should follow along.


Last but not least, my favorite author and her newest book. Mine arrived on my doorstep yesterday. No one moves me the way her writing does. She too teaches about Jesus and Faith and Being Enough and offering the world a little, or a lot, of who you truly are.

If You Desperately Feel You Have Nothing To Offer



Thanks for indulging me this week.
Enjoy your weekend. Take the time to remember who you are. And more importantly, to see the person He created you to be. Click these links and fill your soul up to the brim.

All You Never Wanted To Know

OK. Today I'm irritated with myself that I even started this little challenge. I have no idea why I thought anyone would want to hear from me every day this week. I don't even want to hear myself.

I have received lots of great suggestions on how to deal with my bandaged head. Apparently I should let people sign it. Like a cast. But the thought of anything even lightly touching that area of my head causes big Texas tears to form in the corners of my eyes. So that option is a no-go. My favorite suggestion came from the nurse at the doctor's office: a bar fight. I think that's the one I'm going with.

And because I'm divulging today, I'm giving you some of the things that make me super weird. This is the stuff I really don't talk about. So why not share it on the Internet? I must be taking too much Vicodin to be thinking clearly.

1. This one is a doozy. Get ready....I have a grocery store voice that lives inside my head. For reals. It helps me decide which cereal box to pick or which can of beans I should put in my cart. The grocery store voice rarely likes to take the item at the front of the stack. It likes to pick the 2nd box of stuffing in the row. Never the first. The voice believes that the oldest items are put up front, so you should always pick back in the middle for freshness.

2. I wish on every shooting star I can find for Vin Diesel to come eat lunch with me. I heart him a whole bunch. I just want him to knock on my door and come sit at my kitchen table. Without his shirt on.

3. I can't send grammatical errors in my texts. At least, I try hard not to. I just can't do it. I was an English/Humanities major in college. No LOL's for me. I even proofread my texts before sending them off. True story.

4. I have an unusual obsession with acorns and book pages.

Not just any acorns. They have to hold a meaningful story. That's just the way I work, I guess. I've gathered some outside the elementary school all my kids have attended. I picked some up in Grapevine, Texas when we were on vacation. And Child #1 even brought me home one from school.

As far as the book pages go, I chop up a lot. I don't really know why I like them so much. But I'm constantly cutting them up, ripping them out, making leaves, flowers, pumpkins. My oldest has a friend who decided to start reading all the items I've created, and found a really bad word. Guess I should be more selective in my pages. But I probably won't.

5. Guilt is my constant emotion. Which is probably very normal for a mother.

6. My mom made me a Barbie cake when I was 4. Maybe 5? I've wanted another one ever since. It has something to do with her skirt being made entirely of cake. And then covered in frosting. I just want to eat her. Not in dainty slices. Just me, a fork, and the Barbie skirt. I get goose bumps just thinking about it.

Where My Head Is At

Aren't I pretty? I don't feel very pretty. This was taken yesterday. When I had an area of skin cancer sliced out of my head (the slow growing kind, all is well). And I'm only smiling because Todd make me giggle.

My head now feels like its been stabbed. 402 times. I can't figure out why it burns so much. Is that normal when you have your skin cut out and stitched back together? I have no idea. Oh, but I do know this: It's not very pleasant to smell your own flesh burning when it gets cauterized. I can now cross that item off my bucket list.

You wanna know the very best part? Better than the mean doctor who made me cry? I get to wear this huge, white bandage on my head for 2 weeks. That's 14 days, people. Oh, and I can't get it wet. What the?

Child #3 told me to glue a flower to the bandage. Instead, I just went out to the store and tried to ignore the fact that I look like a crazy person. The cashier asked me if I hurt myself. Nice.

All the 12-Steps I Need

Hi. My name is Lisa, and I'm a craft-a-holic. I'm also a "go to Goodwill and buy crap super cheap and come home and repaint it"-a-holic. And occasionally, I like to "borrow" things from my mom's house and repaint those too.

I can't decide if making things is a talent I'm supposed to let shine, or an obsession I need a program for. But there are days when I make something, that I step back and say, "Now that's a spiritual gift". I like to make myself feel all important and stuff like that.

Generally, I get an idea, or see an idea, and I make it. Projects have to take minimal time. If something takes too long, I'm irritated, and I'll just throw it away. Oh, and it has to be cheap. I have to already own the materials or be able to buy them with my handy dandy Hobby Lobby coupon.

I also tend to want everything to have a story. What I use in my house has to have meaning. I made it, my kids made it, the Husband gifted it to me. Not everything has a story, but the history inside the walls of my house matters to me. A lot. Art made by someone I love feels priceless. Even if it's on construction paper.

I don't paint a lot of big furniture. Because that requires patience. Something I have in negative numbers. I've needed to paint my kitchen table for the last 2 years, and I just can't bring myself to take on that kind of project.

But I did "borrow" this lovely table from my mom. Well truthfully, I begged her for it for at least 6 months. I caught her on a day she was weak, and I took it home and painted it within 24 hours. I think she's rather charming.

I have a strong belief in creativity. Everyone has some, it just shows up in different ways. Mine tends to lead me towards redecorating. Not the most convenient of hobbies. But, there you have it.

This Is For My Sister

I'm going to do something spontaneous. And just so you know, I am never spontaneous. Ever. The last time I was, it was a planned spontaneity. It was so hard for me, I had to give myself a 24 hour lead time to get ready. To be spontaneous.

So, today is rather monumental. I'm covered in a light sweat as we speak. Because I just had an idea and I'm going with it. Just like that. No over thinking. No wondering. No calculating through things in my head. I may hyperventilate.

I've decided to show you the real me this week. Ta Da!

In this space I usually just spout about my kids and our crazy. Every now and then I feel the need to offer my inside view of the world as well. But that's about it. This week, every day, I'm giving you "stuff" that makes me who I am. I'm pretty sure you really don't care all that much. But I'm doing it anyway. I'm not an 'open-book' kind of person. So this feel like a challenge I'm forcing myself to do.

I'm going to start by doing something for my sister. I'm going to show you a teensy, tiny bit of the way I decorate. My sister has been begging me to do this forever. In all her sisterly wisdom, she has declared that I need a "Mantel Monday" post every week.

Normally, I never listen to my sister. Because, that would just be ridiculous. I've had to explain to her before that when we were in heaven, and family birth order was being assigned, I was the smartest (and bossiest). That's why I was sent first. End of discussion.

She likes to give me lots of opinions. And I like to give her kids candy bars for dinner when she isn't looking. We're the perfect yin and yang.

But today, I'm giving in.

This is the current state of my mantel. It's nothing extraordinary. At least, I don't think it is. But here is what makes me weird...It will only stay like this for 2 weeks. Maybe 3. I redecorate all the time. And that means everything. I move pictures on the walls, move wreaths, and every decorative object on any surface gets moved to a new location.

Decorating and arranging is just like breathing to me. It's what I do. I go to other people's houses and I mentally note all the ways they should move furniture and group different things to make their house look better. I can't help it. My sister has begged me to find a way to turn this obsession of mine into a career. So I just christened her My Manager and told her to figure it out. Sneaky of me, right?

If you can't already tell, I'm obsessed with the letter F. I'm planning on doing something like this soon. Chalkboards and the #5 also call to me. I heart them. Like, lots. Oh, and I also collect quotes.

I'll see you tomorrow.
Where I'll be spontaneous.
Again.

Exhibit A

This is what a teenager looks like when she can't remember the password to her phone. And she has tried so many times, she is now blocked out for 2 hours.

Best entertainment I've had in a really long time.