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March, 2008

  1. i will walk by faith

    March 31, 2008 by louissa

    tonight someone asked, “what do you want to be?” and as if on cue, i felt myself starting to hyperventilate.

    okay. so actually, i didn’t and i don’t. but i’ve always thought my life would be much more fun if i was just a tad bit more dramatic. maybe i’d have more stories if i responded just a bit more strongly to things. or maybe i’d swoon, yell, throw tantrums, if my personality was just a bit more like scarlett o’hara’s (which would, of course, make me that much more interesting).

    no. instead i sat and pondered for a few seconds. and tried to figure out what i want to be when i grow up. and couldn’t quite put my finger on it. and sat and thought a bit more. and let the person answer for me (which is what i should have said to do at the beginning since people generally have me more figured out than i do). and am now thinking it rather odd to have asked one who is twenty that question.

    but i do know why. and i know why people will continue to ask. it’s because i’m twenty.

    i’m twenty and i get a ride to work or walk.
    i’m twenty and i make a weekly bulletin.
    i’m twenty and have no money to my name.
    i’m twenty and i live with my parents.
    i’m twenty and my life looks like the life of a loser.

    really, i understand where these questions come from. i’d probably think the same thing if i was looking at me. i’d probably be scratching my head as well wondering why on earth that girl is wasting the best years of her life. i know that to the world i don’t look like i’m doing anything.

    and sometimes it’s hard. sometimes it’s hard to keep going when i know that that’s how it looks. i find that some evenings when i’m surrounded by my peers who are all “making something of themselves” i start to doubt that what i felt was really my Lord. i start to wonder if i got it all wrong, if somehow i didn’t sense something correctly, or even if something is innately wrong with me that i don’t feel a need do anything else at this time.

    in these moments i recollect that noah was a loony when he built a huge ship and said that it was going to rain — something that had never happened. i think about the fact that abraham decided to pack all his things, figure out a way to convince his family to join him to go… well, he didn’t know where he was destined to be when he left. all he knew was that the Lord told him to leave. i recall that sarah was an old woman. i took biology and remember, i’m twenty. i know that old women can’t have babies. but she did. “…because she believed the One who made a promise would do what he said.”

    oh. how the Bible does bring clarity. being them was hard. suddenly being me seems easy. my life makes total sense to the world next to theirs. i seem so normal it’s almost maddening. if i have a hard time walking by faith in such an “acceptable” situation, what will i be like in the abnormal psychotic times the Lord might call me to?

    but it’s times like this that cause growing, that cause strengthening, that cause my eyes to fix themselves more steadfastly on the One who i’m following. my life might not make sense to most and i might not know what the rest of my life is going to look like, but i do know that i’m where He’s called me to be right now and seriously, isn’t that all i need to know?

    “The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see.” (Hebrews 11:12, The Message)


  2. children’s prayer

    March 26, 2008 by louissa

    i’m convinced that parents put their children to bed too early. sure, i understand why they do it — who doesn’t want some peace and quiet as early as possible after long days? but when i think of bedtime as a young girl, i think of long hours laying in the dark, waiting for sleep to take me.

    and that was the hard part. that is when every shadow, every sound, every object in my room was suddenly something sinister and evil. you laugh, but there were plenty of nights when i was too scared to move an inch to get off my bed to find the comfort of my parents bed. i could see the wicked witches with their long noses, the rabid dogs underneath my bed, the men on the roof just waiting to sneak through the window to end the lives of those slumbering in the white house. my imagination was… very active. and i grew up a scared little girl.

    whenever my parents left for the evening i was always convinced that they had been in a car crash and that’s why they were never home as early as i thought they should be. i’d lay sideways on my bed so i could stare out the window and watch the vehicles drive by — always, of course, praying that i’d been mistaken and their car would be next.

    and i’d cry. i was convinced they were dead. i was convinced that men were on the roof. i was convinced the chair in the corner was actually a witch come to taunt me.

    my grandmother knits and embroiders and is the crafty sort of person i want to be but am not. hanging on one of the walls in my childhood bedroom hung a prayer with a picture of a child praying at his bedside — all embroidered by grandma. i used to whisper the words of the prayer during those nights over and over, hoping that somehow God would hear me.

    i didn’t realize it then, but there came such peace when i would whisper those words. the tears would start to slow and i’d be able to move myself from the window and place my head on my pillow. suddenly the tree branches beside the roof would show themselves and i’d realize that there really weren’t any men. and the chair would just be the chair — no evil lady and no long nose.

    it’s nights like tonight when i don’t know what to do with myself that i’m reminded of that embroidered prayer. the night when fears show themselves. when my insecurities flare up an alarming amount. and when i’m in the little yellow house with three babes asleep upstairs because their youngest sister was brought to the hospital since she’s not doing well.

    i feel awful.

    it’s then that i’m reminded of the Presence that’s always with me. ah. such comfort is found in His arms.

    and as i ready for bed i whisper the old prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. May angels watch me through the night and wake me with the morning light.”

    there’s still comfort in those simple childish lines. i tell myself to go to bed — and remind myself that He’s got everything under control. His hands are big enough for all my burdens, worries, and failures.

    and i’m so thankful for that.


  3. this is all.

    March 22, 2008 by louissa

    this is all i’ve been thinking about today as i set tables

    …as i drove family members to where they needed to be

    …as i ran in and out of stores purchasing the last-minute necessities to make Easter day that much more wonderful

    …as i tried on cardigan #1 then cardigan #2 then cardigan #1 again just to make sure it was the one i wanted

    …as i chatted with a friend from my year in Germany

    …as i delivered cheese braid to some lovely neighbors and Easter gifts to three older babies in the little yellow house from Nana and Papa

    …and as i blew my nose every few moments (nobody is supposed to be sick for Easter!).

    yes, in all the runnings around and amidst all the bustling business that always goes into any holiday in this house, this is what i was thinking about:

    “I ask—ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory—to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him—endless energy, boundless strength!

    All this energy issues from Christ: God raised him from death and set him on a throne in deep heaven, in charge of running the universe, everything from galaxies to governments, no name and no power exempt from his rule. And not just for the time being, but forever. He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything. At the center of all this, Christ rules the church. The church, you see, is not peripheral to the world; the world is peripheral to the church. The church is Christ’s body, in which he speaks and acts, by which he fills everything with his presence.” (Ephesians 1:15-23, The Message)


  4. from califonia

    March 16, 2008 by louissa

    i used to be a blogging fiend. i’m not anymore. but i promise, i’m going to start trying to get back into the groove. maybe you won’t read (maybe nobody reads anymore), but somehow it’s good for me. my ramblings and dreaming in writing needs to start again.

    so i’m here. in california.

    i saw the golden gate bridge the other day. i thought that they would have painted in gold. my brother-in-law said to me, “that’s what everyone says. don’t you look at pictures ever?” i guess not. or i do.  sometimes i just don’t pay attention. after all, i really do have a bird’s brain.

    i am incredibly prone to motion sickness. i took dramamine, i tried to sleep, i kept my eyes closed, i listened to music when the flight attendants told us we could, but i felt awful on our flights across the country. and every single time i’ve stepped into my sister’s minivan my stomach has instantly started to feel horrid. it’s just plain pathetic.

    i’m 20. yesterday was the official day and i’m officially not a teenager anymore. i think i always thought that i would feel older than i do. no, i’m convinced that i’ll always be the little girl around here. and really, that’s okay with me.

    i like the green grass in march. and i like the sunny warmth and only wearing a sweater. and i like the well manicured lawns and the perfect houses. and i like being able to walk to a supermarket, to the park, to starbucks — really, to everything you might need, but i like home.

    i really, really like home.


  5. the big news

    March 3, 2008 by louissa

    i’m done with being Job. now i’m going to pretend that i’m a hockey player and put on my skates every time i have to go out in this ice covered world i’m living in.

    but that’s not really the big news of the day. the big news is that the sinclair women have a website now. yes, all eight women wrapped up in one site — what could be more wonderful?

    momandus.com

    check it out.