louissa sinclair

my red shoes.

nope, when i click my heels nothing too fancy happens besides giving them a brand new scuff mark. but they don’t need any magic to make me happy — i just need to wear them. i love my red shoes.

my friends.

i just spent the most wonderful weekend walking on the beach, eating sushi, watching a movie, and enjoying the city with three of my bestest friends.

my new hairs.

after much “hemming and hawing” i decided that blondes really don’t have that much more fun so i went for a change. time to spice up my life again.

summer life.

my blue skies, billowing clouds, and green world. can anything be better?

dinner with a sister.

we joined the rest of the senior citizens of this very tiny town for our dinner this evening. i got my usual hamburger deluxe (no onions please) with a side of fries and tonight i splurged. i finished that off with a piece of pie. needless to say, my belly probably matched hers.

craziness.

i realize that i’m crazy and every now and then it’s nice to realize that there are others out there that suffer with the same craziness. and there is never a better time to express that craziness than when waiting for said food in a place the smells strangely similar to that of a nursing home.

baby goodness.

to adore whenever i want. just down the road in the little yellow house.

sometimes i want to write. sometimes i feel like i need to write. but really, when i click the link “write” that brings me to an empty box waiting for me to fill it, i realize that i don’t have anything.

i was tonight. i just was. i don’t know if one real thought passed through my mind, but it felt restful. for tonight, please just let me be.

i wore my mums old apron. actually, i’m still wearing it. there are eaten lemon bars and a large platter of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. i had a free evening. i didn’t know what else to do. i dusted tables and started to vacuum floors that had already been cleaned today. i made popcorn and then i baked my night away.

sometimes i feel overlooked. then i tell myself that that’s just silly feelings. and somehow i thought i wouldn’t deal with this at this age. i guess i’m still waiting for that maturing thing to happen to me.

we have a Sitting Room. we’ve never had a Sitting Room before so this is all rather new to me. it’s a bit more formal than our Family Room where all movie watching happens and a little less formal than my mums old Front Room/Parlor. i’m sitting in it… on the love seat, indian style, wearing an apron with a glass bowl of pineapple beside me. my mouth is tingly from all the pineapple i’ve consumed in the last hour, but i don’t exercise much self-control in my life over any situation, so why start when eating something that tastes so wonderful in the moment?

i had my first “Louissa is an irresponsible adult” moment recently. i don’t ever balance my checkbook but i didn’t think it that bad since i’ve only written a handful of checks since i opened the account a year ago. but i use my debit card. i use it more than anything. and i don’t keep track of my checking account whatsoever. my debit card used it up, i wrote a check, and i overdrew on the account. yes, i felt rather lame.

it’s 10:06pm and i’m the only one awake in the house.
mostly i’m fine, but a little bit i’m lonely.

every week i have a new favorite song. and i listen to it until i’ve thoroughly killed it. this may not be the wisest way of doing things, but as i said, there’s no self-control in me so the repeat button continues to be hit. i’ve listened to one Regina Spektor song seven times already tonight.

there are dishes on the counter. half of me says that i should go clean the kitchen. the other half of me says that i’m tired too — can’t i just go to bed?

i felt a bit like Kathleen Kelly today. you know the part — she’s in her apartment preparing some sort of goodness to eat in a black mock turtleneck top and a dark green jumper and she turns to Frank and asks, “what exactly is it that i do?”

i asked the same question. only i was in my candycane striped pajama pants and my “Right Left” sweatshirt and i had plopped myself beside my mumsie in her bed and started to question where i am, what i’m doing, my lack of plans for the future.

really all i was wondering was, “am i making my life count?”

and the question that i needed to hear asked back was, “count for who?” count in the world’s eyes — be the scholar it tells me to be, make the digits it says i must for a happy life, get the car, the house, the dog, the two kids, and the white picket fence — or count for eternity?

i’m no Einstein — in fact, i practically failed through my pathetic high school career of mathematics (although i hear he didn’t do much hotter), but i’m starting to figure out my want of approval from man (really, sometimes i feel like it’s more than a want — it’s a need) and how quickly i turn from my gaze being on what He’s called me to. the world is selling me dreams and ideals of what a successful life looks like and i must confess that i’m a quick buyer.  i forget to look at what He says and to decide to do that instead.

and where are my desires? where are my longings being placed? i have dreams — oh, i might say that i don’t because i think them rather pathetically small and won’t want to admit to them, but i do dream and where do my dreams lie? in receiving praise, admiration, respect here by man or pursuing Kingdom goals — even if that means that not everyone will understand?

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6)

it’s almost 10:30. i’ve only had one cup of coffee and so far, we’ve had a very enjoyable morning with three happy children and an aunt who is quite content to not have to correct very much. more laundry has been put in, a drum set has been fixed, baby dolls have been put in their proper clothing, a dishwasher has been figured out, a diaper has been changed, make-up has been put on this girl (i rather forgot to take care of myself yesterday), songs have been sung, and we’ve had the rather funny and bizarre conversations one has when you spend a large majority of your day with a five-year-old, a three-year-old, and a two-year-old.

i’ve been asked a bazillion times in the last few days why i’m not a bride yet and why i don’t have my own babies. in these darlings minds it only makes sense that i should be in the exact same season of life as their dear mother. i really do confuse them. i’m twenty. i’m not a bride. i don’t have any babies. and i go to work each day like their daddy.

to One who is faithful and deserves only the most faithful to serve Him, i find myself desperately lacking and quickly trying to change that. i’m starting to realize that my life song is going to one of His faithfulness to me even though i’m finding that my heart is dreadfully unfaithful.

i’ve pulled an Icarus. everyone has listened to this song and have puzzled over the line with some strange name in it:

I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die

Icarus found himself distracted by enjoying that which was given to him. he didn’t heed the words spoken to him and that was his destruction. he wasn’t focused.

my heart is dreadfully divided. my love, my devotion, my worship, my time is all mixed up and confused. He should be at the top of my list, the One who is receiving all of it, and yet i’ve found myself forgetting to give Him anything — to love Him at all.

and it’s been my downfall. an unsettled heart, a distressed spirit has been my portion when my head knows that if He was my focus then i would know perfect peace. and so i’m reminded of where my focus is to be:

“Let your eyes look directly ahead
And let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you.
Watch the path of your feet
And all your ways will be established.
Do not turn to the right nor to the left…“

He gives good things. He blesses me. and sometimes the things and not the Giver is my focus.

i’m in a good season. i like my life. and i’m content. i’m fine with what i do, where i am, where my faith level is, where my relationship is with others and Him and i don’t want that. i want to want more, to need more, to long for more of Him.

i find myself humming these words to myself more often than not recently:

To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees

the day is starting to warm up. perhaps a walk is in order for an aunt and three little ones.

it’s 10:45 and i’m working on my second cup of coffee. i know, i’m supposed to be quiting. i could come up with several excuses as to why i’m still drinking this wonderful legal addictive stimulant but won’t. after all, they’re just excuses, right?

i am showered and dressed but haven’t quite made it to the make-up part of my morning routine. a monday morning not at work. yes, this is unusual.

i sat all three children in different chairs with different books and went to shower. halfway through my shower i heard screams and little feet chasing after each other. i put a towel around my sopping wet hair to go and resettle my charges. i brushed my teeth and simultaneously encouraged the little girl to not hit her brother with my blow dryer. i wiped down dining room chairs and broke up a fight. i dusted some tables and pictures and encouraged nice playtime. i vacuumed a few rooms and spanked a few children. i brushed a girls hair and coached three little ones on the proper way to apologize after an offense. i put a load of laundry in and told a little one to stop touching her camera.

but oh! how i love the little ones in this little yellow house. i love the giggles, the creative drawings, the “practicing” of drums with one, the cuddles of another, the kisses of the princess. yes, i love being here.

yesterday we threw away routine and spent the afternoon at the park. it was lovely.

my head doesn’t feel like it’s been screwed on properly for the last 24 hours and although all the writing mistakes that have been made since then would dictate that i should not try posting right now, i find myself with a free evening and a blog that needs an update so i will.

the yearly CAT tests are being given to the homeschoolers tomorrow morning. a little boy had a prompt bedtime tonight and promises that a mums would show him tomorrow morning how to take the test and sisters are about trying to ignore their favorite mechanical pencils sitting on their shelves while the hunt for No. 2 pencils continues. who uses regular pencils nowadays anyway?

i remember the night before my CAT tests. the first few years i was paranoid about eating a good dinner the night before, sleeping well, and enjoying a well-rounded breakfast before leaving for the morning. i remember the knots in my stomach although it was mostly because i knew that i was in for the longest few hours of my year. i knew that doodling was up ahead, sharing a few whispers with my neighbor, and trying desperately not to get scolded for taking the test too quickly.

it was boring. thank the Lord i don’t take them anymore.

i cried today as i sat at a wooden table in a coffee shop and talked to two guys who i normally wouldn’t cry with. they hadn’t asked anything terribly personal and they hadn’t requested that i bare my soul. i had simply been asked to share what i had been reading in the Bible lately.

little did they know of my recent struggle with accepting God’s answer, “My grace is sufficient.” one of the two that sat opposite of me is one who i’ve been praying for and one of the ones who hasn’t seen healing in their life.

he had tears in his eyes as i cried and talked and vented and told of God’s goodness to me despite my frustrations with Him. the other simply nodded his head in understanding — he has a good understanding of sinclair girls being emotional and a good understanding of where my feelings were coming from.

and they were fine with my tears. so why did i feel so embarrassed?

i am going to watch a movie in it’s entirety in one sitting right now. i’m determined that it will happen. the other night i went to watch a favorite of mine and couldn’t sit through the whole thing. what happened to Louissa being so laid back? i rather have a freak out when i finally do have an evening with no meetings scheduled. i’ll vacuum or clean something or read a little bit (one of my favorite past times), but none of those things hold me.

after all my complaining of being too busy i find that i rather like it.