i arrived in Germany nine months ago very happy to be doing something with at least the following six months of my life.  i had somehow made a decision to leave home for a bit and was really more happy to have an answer for the ever present “what are you doing next” question than the actual adventure of being in Europe for six months.  when i applied for this school i filled out the questions on the application form hastily, asking siblings and pretty much siblings for help as i half-heartedly wrote down my interests and quickly scribbled out my testimony.  i didn’t really care where i went or what i did — i just had to do something.

i felt so relieved when my mumsie recieved the rushed email saying i was accepted (the email was because i was a last minute student) because i had figured out what the next step was for me and once again i had pushed aside the nagging and very persistent question: what do i want to do with my life?  i thought i wouldn’t have to think about it for quite awhile.

time has a funny way of slipping by too quickly.  it seems like yesterday i was sitting at a dirty kitchen table filling out that silly piece of paper that was supposed to give the staff here some idea as to who i am, but really only skims the surface of ones walk with the Lord.  and now nine months has passed and wouldn’t you know it — i’m being asked the same questions again:

louissa, what do you want to do with your life?  what’s next for you?

the people i’m surrounded by are amazing.  they love me, they, for some strange reason, are interested in what my next step is, and they are full of opinions as to what i should do.  if only i was as passionate about something as they are for me.

when i was little i drew pictures of a teacher in front of a classroom with a bun in her hair.  to me, all teachers in schools wore spectacles and their hair was in a bun and there should always be something warm and endearing about them.  the teacher would be standing behind her desk, in front of the chalkboard, and the students would be sitting politely in front.  there was usually an apple somewhere — don’t all teachers recieve apples from their students?  it’s how it worked in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s life so of course it must work like that in real life.

when i was younger i decided that i wanted to be a teacher.  what could be more grand that having a life like Laura (i wanted to be her when i was younger)?  i thought teaching would be simple, exciting, and i’d work with kids.  it sounded lovely.

when i was thirteen i decided i wanted to be the next barbra streisand.  i’d move to NYC and sing in jazz clubs.  in the back of my mind i always thought of the scene in White Christmas after Betty Haynes runs off and she’s singing in a club, wearing that ridiculous dress, and i wanted that to be (only the dress would look a tad bit different).  a few months later i decided i wanted to dye my hair pink and be the next Gwen Stefani. 

i then decided that i was just a confused girl.

a few years later i realized that i loved writing.  well, really, i loved blogging, but at the time i thought i loved writing in general.  i decided that i’d be a journalist.  i’d work for a magazine, i’d travel, and i’d write.  life would be wonderful.  but then i decided that i’m really not all that good and well, if i’m not completely inspired then i’m dreadful at writing and really, the only thing i write well about is me and as a journalist you aren’t always guaranteed the pleasure of writing about oneself.

three months ago i realized how much i love history.  i decided i’d go to school for archeology.  my job would be history, i could travel, and i’d get to dig in dirt.  well, that specific aspect is not quite so appealing to me, but whatever — you win some, you lose some. 

two days ago i decided that i really don’t know what i want to do. 

and that’s okay.  tonight i took a walk and i told Jesus all about my quandary.  and in His timing i’ll figure this all out.  for now all i know is that i’m working here in Germany for two more months and on september fourth i arrive home.  and that will be lovely.

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valentina taul is my hero.  i love her.

more pictures here.