This is where I chat about homeschooling, the home, inspiration for my faith, and photography on a day to day basis when I don’t have time to write up a blog post. I’d love it if you would join me there. Living a coastal life is so refreshing that I don’t want to stay cooped up in my office, but I want to stay caught up with my friends. My Facebook page is a simple way to do that since I can check in from my phone.

A few things that have been on my mind (and I shared on Facebook) are:

“Your home is an extension of your heart. Welcoming people into your home is welcoming them into your heart.”

“Home is the place where we can retreat to for peace and solitude. Don’t let chaos have space in your sacred abode.”

And a picture of our patio.

Please come join me.

Sisterlisa

It wasn’t that I needed to die, because Christ had died in my stead. It was that I needed to view life through the victory of the cross. My perception needed to die so I could see myself as God sees me. What he said surprised me, “Don’t look at them (referring to those sisters), look at what I planted in you…The Christ.” It was then that I realized that I wasn’t really wrestling with a green eyed serpent, I was wrestling with a false image of myself. I needed to see that I was truly created in His image and what my heart was passionate for was to come into the full completion of who he created me to be. I was suckered into thinking I needed to live up to the image of my sisters. Turning my eyes upward left me feeling trapped and unable to reach him, but what he revealed to me was that I needed to turn my eyes inward to see Him in me. He created me to be creative, to love and to be loved. He created me to be myself and to enjoy His presence in my soul.

So I can see my sisters in the glory God gave them and be truly happy for them, because I am truly happy with myself. I am whole.

With love,

Sisterlisa

Some women find it offensive to be encouraged in her position of ministering to children. Can I just say, my sweet friends, that not many men have the patience that we do to be with small children for hours on end. The opportunity that many of us have to minister to our own children and other moms at play group is just as important as preaching from a pulpit. In fact, it just may be a higher honor because we get to influence children with the tenderness of the Holy Spirit that many women can give. I’m not saying men can’t do this, but on average more women have more tenderness in ministering to children and other women than men do. Small children are like little sponges soaking up every ounce of Living Water that we can offer them. Many women are more likely to receive spiritual guidance from our own sisterhood than she will from a man.

I know there are many women who honestly believe God has called them to other positions in organized ministries and I’m not going to argue that. I would like to be of encouragement though, that Jesus wasn’t all too interested in holding any sort of position among the religious leaders of his day. I’m not going to refute holding a position in an organized church structure, but has our drive to lead caused us to drift off course and get tangled up in the show of ministry? Have we lost the heart of a quiet and meek spirit of love that embraces people where they are? Did we forget that our brother Jesus said that the greatest among you is the servant?

Yes, I used that ‘filthy’ word, servant. The word that causes many women to cringe and scowl, because it’s a trigger word that reminds them of slavery and bondage. I’m not meaning to condemn those in our sisterhood that don’t serve in the same ways other women do. I would never want to manipulate or condemn a sister into doing something she doesn’t feel is genuine from her heart. It’s a lot more enjoyable to do what’s in our hearts than to try and do something that isn’t and hope our hearts conform. It would be a travesty if a woman felt oppressed into doing something and she end up feeling like she’s in bondage.

This word we use called ‘minister’ has taken on a form that I don’t think was ever a part of what Jesus had in mind. When we offer support to one another, a shoulder to cry on, a warm embrace in tough times, or even sending a card in the mail is a form of ministering. The Gospel is the Good News that God reconciled us to himself through Christ. It doesn’t take a lofty position, title, or even a seminary degree to minister to souls. All it takes is a heart of compassion that seeks to be supportive.

While praying for and working towards female equality in ministry is important, lets not get distracted by this ‘women in ministry’ battle when there are precious souls in our everyday lives that are longing to be loved on.

With warm hugs,

Sisterlisa

Wouldn’t you know it, my van dashboard dings and the ‘change oil’ light came on. We arrived at his first appointment which was supposed to be twenty minutes, which turned into an hour. So I took my daughter with me to get our haircuts done. I was trying to kill two birds with one stone (the salon was right next door). I made periodic calls home to check in and let them know why it was taking so long. I could hear my son’s worrisome voice in the background asking if we’d be back in time to take him to ninja school. Sigh** All I could do is affirm that his class was definitely a priority while in my mind I prayed that God would work out the timing.

My husband, daughter, and I stopped for lunch then headed back home. We got home for just a few minutes to check in before leaving again to get the oil changed in the van. Thankfully we could get that done at the same place my husband’s truck was at. We got there and his truck was done early, but now he had to get back to another town (another 30 miles away) to another job site. So I waited with the van, although the smell of tires makes me nauseated so I walked across the street to Starbucks. I checked in with my Facebook and answered a few emails then headed back to get the van. Next, I had to get back home and pick up our son for ninja class. I was literally home for 5 minutes before racing back out again.

My husband called while we were on the road and our son answered for me (I am adamant about not talking on the phone while driving). He needed me to pick up a house warming gift for a friend’s wife (which was my idea in the first place) and I hastily gave the response that would get me the Wife of the Year Award, “Yes, honey. I’ll get something on my way home.” Now I was frantic and wondering how I would pull all this off and get home in time for him to take the gift over by the time he said he would be arriving at their home. I know one of the instructors at the school and since we were a few minutes early I asked if I could leave for a few minutes and thankfully he said yes. I drove right around the block to Target to get a gift then back just in time to wrap the gift in the car and walk through the doors just as class was starting. Phew*

Two moms introduced themselves to me and we had some small chit chat when one of them jumped right in (loudly), “Do you go to a church?” (The other mom quickly avoided this conversation.) Here was the test of my patience and grace. I really wanted to watch my son, but knowing I would be seeing these women so often I didn’t want to be rude so I let her know that we do have a place to go and are very happy there, but she insisted further that I should go to her church. Not wanting to rock the boat in front of my son’s class and make it more uncomfortable, I bit my tongue. What I really wanted to say was kept on hold. I shared a bit about our recovery ministry and told her that my husband is an evangelist. I never know what to expect when I tell people this, since so many churches have different views on ministry. The class seemed to fly by during this conversation and before I knew it the class was over.

I didn’t want to bog this woman down with the story of what happened to us a few years ago and how we only just recently found a place where we feel safe to grow spiritually with a group of people. Settling into a group was a big decision for us and I don’t want to venture away from that. She doesn’t need to know all of this. I am at the point in my life where my faith has become something deeply personal (although I speak about it on FB quite a bit) I’m just not comfortable talking about my journey with strangers in person just yet. Least of all if I think my views are going to get me enemies at a place that is supposed to be for my son to enjoy having friends in.

I want to make friendships in this new community, but I don’t want my friendships to be based on their beliefs about church, theology, or even what kind of worship music they prefer. Most churches reject women being ministers anyway so I’m pretty sure I’ll leave that bit about me out for now. I don’t want there to be a stigma in my conversations. I don’t want to make the other moms feel uncomfortable and discussing religion in a public setting is exactly what would set most people on edge. It was a good thing the class is only 45 minutes long.

We got back into our car and headed home just in time for me to get home and wash the van windows. The marine layer here can get quickly moist and with the sand blowing in the wind, the windshield can get so cloudy. I didn’t want my husband to drive and not be able to see. I got the windows cleaned and just as I was walking back inside the house, he got home to prepare for his night at our friend’s home (Lakers games are a high priority around here). We quickly tried to catch each other up on how everything else was going in our day when he had to skeedaddle and I stayed home to enjoy leftovers from last night’s barbecue.

Now the kids and I get to relax tonight and it’s a good thing because my youngest two are exhausted from the long day and all the driving in traffic. Every single thing I did today was important. But do you know the one thing that I want to do is enter my holy of holies. That place within where I get to sit with my Lord and maybe lean on his breast and just breathe. It’s not that I don’t want to be there for each individual family member when they need me, but I need time to be me. I want that quiet time when I can hear his breath over my ears and his heart beat on my cheek. This is my very personal and individual spirituality that I can’t find the words to express quite as vividly as my heart feels it. It’s that place where only he and I can meet and have quiet conversations about my life and my hopes. The place where I can express my doubts without fear of being rejected or making my son and his little friends feel awkward. It’s where I can get angry about the road rage drivers that cut me off and I don’t have to worry that I’ll make a bad impression as an evangelist’s wife and embarrass my husband.

Oh…… to hear his soul. To feel the pounding of his heart on the palm of my hand. This is where I find it…on the cool sand. As I lay my face down on the edge of the sand dune that witnesses the sunset, I can feel his heart beat as the waves pound the shore. I can feel the hush of sea mist over my ears like his breath on my soul, the salt of his tears on my lips. He cries with me when I shed my own tears over the longing in my soul for that quiet moment in my holy of holies with the lover of my soul. This is where I want to be.

Sisterlisa

“Challenge yourself to look for the beauty in your life. Your interpretation can be anything (as long as it’s family friendly) that brings peace and inspiration to your heart. No camera requirements, no worries that your photos won’t measure up. Just one beautiful thing each week.” ~Brooke McGlothlin

I discovered these frilly, delicate flowers on our Mother’s Day walk on Balboa Island. I am thankful for the day I spent with my girls and we always enjoy our outings to Balboa Island. Brooke mentions her desire to say yes to God and this past Sunday was my time to say yes to Him by saying yes to myself. Yes, it’s ok to take a day off and enjoy my girls. When teens are growing it is so important to spend quality time with them and I am full of gratitude that my girls WANT to spend time with me. We decided to make it a tradition to enjoy Balboa Island next year as well.

I hope you’ll join us over at Brooke’s blog for this photo meme.

All my love,

Sisterlisa

One of the passions I have is to see the beaches stay clean. It infuriates me to see people leave garbage on the beach and even in the parking lots here. Today I saw a woman at the stop light next to me, flick her cigarette out the window. We were on Pacific Coast Highway, which is right along the beach. It grieves me to think of the animals who are negatively affected by litter like that. Don’t cars have ash trays anymore? Why be so lazy about snuffing out cigarettes in the ash tray by tossing it out the window? I wish I had a license from the city or state to ticket people like that. Imagine a painting by the beloved Thomas Kinkade having cigarettes painted into the landscapes. Would we buy a painting like that? When I go to the beach, I like to see the beauty of creation, not the litter from mankind.

I am raising my children to appreciate nature and when we go to the beach we take paper bags with us and pick up litter as we see it. We have seen the garbage cans dumped over and we picked them up. We also volunteer with the state to plant native plants along the beaches. If we want the Earth to continue to yield her ‘fruit’ to us then we had better take care of her. Because this is just too beautiful to mess with.

Blissfully yours,

Sisterlisa

We got to create our own scents at the fragrance table and my favorite mix was Hawaiian Lei and Coconut. They have hundreds of fragrance oils to choose from and thousands of combinations.

We got to have a hand treatment while we were there. All three of us got pampered with a salt scrub and an fragrance infused oil to condition our freshly exfoliated hands.

Monica, Jessica, and Gina

The gal mixed my two fragrances together and created my very own custom scrub and oil. I got to watch and know exactly what’s in these products. No need to google the scientific name you can’t even pronounce!

I chose the bottle sizes and she filled them up.

Now I can use that fragrance here at home and my husband loved it! Now if only I could get scented candles to match!

We had a great time for Mother’s Day! Next year we’ll be making this a tradition!

*Disclaimer: I chose to feature Sinfulicious on my own accord and paid for my own products. I received no compensation for this post. If you would like to visit their shop you can find them at three southern California locations and at Facebook.

I hope all the mothers out there had a great day for Mother’s Day.

Sisterlisa

I’m not helping anyone, least of all myself, by trying to put on a fake label and stand next to the other vanilla bottles. As much as vanilla is the most popular flavor, not everyone buys vanilla and sometimes they’re looking for other flavors. Maybe it all boils down to this….real vanilla will only be upset with me for trying to be one of them when I’m not and imitation vanilla will be upset with me if I rip the label off and stand with my own kind. Did you ever notice that all of the extracts, flavors, and spices are still on the same aisle? They’re still all flavors. So maybe we can all begin to love one another for our unique flavors instead of viewing each other as separate. We’re all on the same aisle.

So, I’m not vanilla. I can’t be a mild flavor. I can’t betray myself, my true identity…I can’t ignore who I really am.

I’m the kind of spice that reveals to you that you have taste buds you never knew you had. You might spit me out in disgust, but you most definitely will realize that I have flavor. Most importantly, you will realize something new about yourself. I think what I have come to learn about myself is that I am an acquired taste. I might make your taste buds swell or even burn them a little, but you won’t go away from me not knowing what flavor I am. You will know me, the real me.

My flavor may not be right for your baked treats, but my flavor will be just right for those creating the kind of entrees that need me.

As a result of my honesty with myself, I can do things like decorate my home with outward expressions of who I am. I can create our living space into the kind of environment that helps our family to grow. I can honestly create a spiritual ambiance that soothes our souls and yet challenges us to grow taller so our branches can reach further.  Every home is different, because people are unique personalities. Every personality in my family has various flavors of diverse spice, mild, and a mixture of sweet and sour. It wouldn’t be fair to any one of us if I shoved us all into the vanilla bottle. We wouldn’t be free if we did that. We wouldn’t be able to function as we were created to, if we were forced to be vanilla.

If I was to bend to the will of those who want to force me to wear the wrong label, I would be in bondage. So here we are, us humans. We’re created in the image of God, but we all look and sound different. Even our fingerprints reveal how different we were meant to be. It would be silly to try to force everyone to have the same fingerprints. He wants us to be different, so why mess with His creation? It has been said, “patience is a virtue”. It surely is.

Doing the best I can to be patient with myself and with everyone else.

Sisterlisa

I want so much for my past to stay in the past. I battle the sadness that comes from dreaming about lost relationships and the ‘stab scars’ in my back. These dreams make it so much more difficult to really let things go. In my awake state, I push those thoughts aside so I can move forward. Then when I’m asleep they come back to haunt me. Oh Lord, please help my subconscious to get the memo the past needs to stay in the past!

Perhaps the sale of the house will help with some closure. (Will you please join me in prayer that the home sells quickly?)

People have long said, “forgive and forget”. The forgetting part is what is so difficult and I came to the conclusion that it is not practical to think we can forget. Sometimes remembering, to a certain degree, can help us remain firm in holding up boundaries to protect ourselves in the future. I just don’t think focusing on the boundary all the time is healthy. I think boundaries are good to have and should be held firm, but if we spend too much time focusing on the boundary we could lose our footing in faith and put ourselves into bondage. There needs to be a time when we can trust the Lord enough to be able to enjoy our lives without fear of a failing boundary.

The ‘stab scars’ in my back are not there as a reminder to not trust people, it’s there to remind me that we’re all human and have the potential to fail one another. However, I don’t want to fall into the trap of being afraid to learn to trust again. Being afraid of suffering from a broken heart is just that, fear. Fear is what puts us in bondage. The example we have from the Lord is that perfect love casts out all fear.

Anytime we open our hearts we put ourselves at risk of being hurt, but this is where faith comes in. The greater we love, the greater risk there is of being hurt. We hurt much, because we love much. If we didn’t love, it wouldn’t hurt. But what kind of life would we have without love?

And so it is with my dreams…they hurt because I love. The past is in the past and although I am building new friendships and hoping for more opportunities to love deeply, all of these experiences is what makes life so rich and poetic. Tragedy is a rite of passage for humanity and can help us to develop compassion for one another. I pray that the tragedies that have been in my life can be stepping stones for me to learn to invest in the lives of others and be a support to them as they make their own passage through such deep valleys. There is a poetic love found in tragedy, like a pearl that develops when an oyster suffers. I find it almost comical to see the parallel between human suffering and the oyster that suffers.

“Pearls are formed inside the shell of certain mollusks as a defense mechanism against a potentially threatening irritant such as a parasite inside its shell, or an attack from outside, injuring the mantle tissue. The mollusk creates a pearl sac to seal off the irritation.” ~Wiki

So here I am seeing the beauty in the pain, since it was the pain that created a pearl in me.

photo credit Lady Jess

Share the love,

Sisterlisa

I quickly threw dinner together and switched the laundry before realizing that I needed to make a sacrifice. I felt horrible that the kids missed out on our regular schedule so we  quickly rinsed the dishes, put the leftovers away, and headed straight to the pool. I knew I needed to do something to salvage this day so they could go to sleep happy. I dislike running errands and I know the kids aren’t too keen on it either. I’m thankful we live in a community that has a heated pool! Even thirty minutes of swimming can cheer the kids up and help them forget what a boring day we had. It helps even more that they sat in the jacuzzi for a few minutes too. Now they’re taking turns with the shower and then relaxing in their bean bags for a cartoon just before bed time.

I’m stealing just a few moments to jot down my thoughts for today before I need to finish up with the laundry and get the kitchen cleaned up. Do you ever daydream about what you could get done if you had a day to yourself without interruption? As much as I would love to pamper myself with an uninterrupted day of relaxation, aromatherapy and a bubble bath I really end up thinking about reorganizing the new office and getting caught up on filing. I even got a NeatDesk and have yet to get it set up! When I’m folding laundry, I think about how I need to dust the ceiling fan blades. When I’m vacuuming, I think about how I need to clean out the cat box. When I’m running errands, I think about how I need to take the kids on a field trip to the aquarium.

You know, they don’t have a degree in motherhood or housekeeping and we get in plenty of hours, months, and years of experience that I am certain we can state that we have our Masters! In fact, surviving a wedding and grandchildren most definitely should yield a doctorate! I have a nineteen year old daughter studying to be a holistic practioner and my sixteen year old is contemplating a huge decision for her future once she’s eighteen (and that’s a topic for another day). One thing I have learned in all this zany busyness is that we need to give ourselves some grace.

Each day of motherhood is different and no matter how much scheduling I plan for, it never works out the same. If I held myself to the standard of my to-do list each day, I would drown in self condemnation. I can’t keep up with it all. It doesn’t mean I stop trying. It doesn’t mean I give up and let my house go to pot while zoning in front of the t.v. all day. It just means that I need to cut myself some slack (which often doesn’t get done either).

So here I sit, blogging, trying to breathe deeply, yet struggling with getting the kids to get their teeth brushed so they can get into bed. Is it wrong of a mother to desperately need her kids to get to bed early sometimes? Doesn’t a mom ever get a chance to be herself, as herself? I love being a mom, I’m not complaining at all. I just would like some time to be…Lisa. I would like time to be Lisa, who likes to write, who likes long walks on the beach, who enjoys photography, and Lisa who likes to go to the movies without spending $60 for sodas and popcorn. It can’t possibly be a crime for a mother to want to have some time to herself. In fact, I think we need to schedule time to be able to do just that. Maybe this is why some moms go through such a nasty case of Empty Nest Syndrome when their kids grow out of the home. They find themselves empty, no more laundry to fold, lunches to make, or games to drive to.

I don’t want to lose myself in mothering and forget who I really am, aside from being a mother. I don’t want to lose my own dreams in the midst of helping my kids to achieve theirs (and I don’t think they would want me to either). I just live day to day. I mother our children hour by hour.

(sighs deeply)

Do we ever get to have the feeling of accomplishment as mothers? Do we ever get to wear the ‘cap and gown’ and walk to the sound of Pomp and Circumstance as we receive our degree in Motherhood? Sometimes it feels like I’m sitting in a never ending class with no recess in sight. We don’t get graded on our mothering skills and maybe it’s a good thing we don’t, but getting a big red A+ to hang on the fridge sure would be nice.

So with all that said, I have some goals for this year. I just turned 40 years old and I want to make some big changes to prolong my life and enjoy every minute of it to the fullest. Because quite honestly, there will be a day when my kids are all grown up and gone and I’ll have plenty of time to clean the ceiling fan blades and organize my filing cabinet, but I won’t always get to play with my kids. I want to have energy and strength in my joints to be able to enjoy their teen years without getting winded and breathless.

Maybe in doing this I will finally get that degree.

And now it’s time to get that laundry done and kiss the kids before they drift off to sleep…. all my love,

Sisterlisa