today i went to work.  that is my life.  ask what i’m up to these days and my answer will most definitely be work related.  that’s what i do and that’s what keeps me busy.  in fact, i work most of the time that i’m awake.  my inbox is mostly full of emails labeled under ‘church office.’  when i have an evening at home, i find myself sub-consciously thinking of work projects, emails to respond to, events to plan, and things to take care of.  i work.

i blog.  i started with diaryland then went to unskewed which was followed by xanga and finally i landed here at my own domain.  when i was in high school blogging seemed to be the cool thing to do — all my friends were doing it.  we read each others boring entries of “today i did school, then mowed the lawn…” and commented on them constantly.  somehow the number of people my age continuing to blog dwindled and now it’s me, the coolest moms in the world, and computer geeks who keep the blog world spinning.  it’s gotten so i feel a bit like the minority.  when i mention i blog to people my age — well, sometimes i’m even laughed at.  i’m not a mom and i’m not a computer geek so what am i doing with this online way to be emo and spill my guts to the world (that’s what a 20 year old is supposed to do witha  blog, right?)?  someone get me a baby or get me updated on the newest code language so i feel like i fit in again!

homeschooling has its cons and today i learned one of them.  what is it?  there’s no real classroom.  nope.  the classroom is generally the kitchen table.  so when teaching your 4th grader anatomy, think carefully about what you’re doing before you place a child size body on your kitchen wall and then ask him to slowly start pasting body parts that he/she must color and cut out.  lets just put it this way — my little brother (who is the 4th grader) has slowly been building a body his size and has glued a brain, heart, two kidneys, a corn on the cob looking body part (looks like i should go back to 4th grade), stomach, etc. onto this paper person whose home is the kitchen wall next to the table.

this evening i was sitting and enjoying an amazing scrumptious meal from her (a pro about having your mumsie leave for a month — people take pity on motherless children and bring them food) with my two youngest sisters, talking, laughing, and having a splendid time when one of my glances toward a sister happened to bring into focus this paper man on the wall.  i quickly noted that our little boy in the family had “learned” a new body part in school today and had to paste a new piece onto the paper man.  and i quickly decided that not all human body parts should be a part of ones dinnertime.  so to put it plainly, immediately following dinner, i decided to follow God’s lead on His answer when He encountered two naked people and so i made some leaves to cover this naked person who is so awkwardly a huge part of our lives right now.

if you’re homeschooling and going to do an extensive study on human anatomy, don’t leave your projects on the kitchen wall.  it’s just awkward.

tonight i excitedly told a table full of people i love so much, “i feel like the old louissa is back!”

there was no more being bogged down by life, seasons, busyness, exhaustion, and everything else.

we danced to the Julia Marie Band. we laughed at each other, jokes… people. we took pictures of silliness and good times. we told stories. we sang along to country love songs on the way home.  we stuffed our faces with pizza while being asked to quiet down by our waitress.  we squeezed four in a back just so we could all be together.

we had fun. real good fun.

and it was good.  good for me.

3 chicken pot pies are warm out of the oven.

10 plates are set around the table, waiting for dinner to begin.

1 basket of apples wonders what sorts of deliciousness i’ll be able to create with them.

4 band members sit in the adjacent room discussing band like topics.

3 school girls watch a school movie.

1 college boy sits with them… because what else is there to do?

2 songs have been looked over for the 5th-7th grade choir i teach tomorrow.

4 LARGE bags of potatoes laugh in my face every day as they scheme to go bad before i can use them all.

1 dad, 1 brother, and 1 small buck are on their way to the butcher, boasting of a successful day in the woods.

1 girl sits, waiting for dinner, listening, smelling, setting, looking, and remembering a day with 7 people at whiteface.

i’m finding that i expect much for others but very little for myself.

my Christian faith is my world and without my Christian faith i would not have my world.  i’ve learned that a God, who i know and have personally experienced, is faithful and good and peace and merciful and loving and just and caring and perfect and strength and a friend — and is so much more than this small little list because He is everything that anyone could ever need.  you have a problem?  He’ll take care of it.  you have a need?  He’ll provide.  are you broken?  He’s the healer.  are you confused?  He’ll bring clarity.

i know these things.

but recently, i know these things for others.

i attend several weekly church meetings.  there are countless opportunities for my God, who is everything anyone could ever need, to touch my life.  i sing songs and i mean every word, but somehow, i don’t actually leave room for Him to transform my life.  i pray over others and encourage them to step out in faith, to catch the vision God has given them, but don’t do that myself.

i listened to words this morning while i attended one of my weekly church meetings about not only having faith for others, but having faith for yourself.  i stood there and didn’t understand that those words were being spoken for people like me.  i didn’t grasp it — i didn’t make it personal.  i just knew of all the others who needed to hear it and how i had faith that they could do this thing.

it didn’t once cross my mind that i need faith for my life just as much as they do.

i continued on in my day doing the things that good Christian administrators do when all that’s keeping them going is the schedule that they put together for another 400 people.  so i ran home, changed, and met up with others at a nearby park to pick up a sign that read, “Abortion Kills Children” and stand on the street curb for an hour.  while i should have been meditative, somber, and prayerful, i found myself telling fairytale stories, singing songs, and putting a 4 year old niece on my shoulders, back, lap — whatever would keep her warm and happy.

and then a few hours later while i sat with a few others on leather couches and chairs with a very content stomach from spaghetti and cheesecake and coffee and every sort of goodness, i found myself listening to someone say to me that i need more faith for my own life.  and i realized, that there is 0 faith for my life, giftings, situations i’m in and i realized that that’s wrong.

and honestly, you, my dear reader, should know that i’ve been in a season of feeling purposeless and with no vision for my life.  but doesn’t that stem from having no faith?  i sat there and although i looked totally fine while these words were coming at me, i found myself wrecked.  i’ve been discontent, i’ve complained, i’ve been unhappy, but i’ve given the Lord no room to move in my life.

Jesus called to Peter, but He could only do so much to get him to step out of the boat.  He called and there came a time where Peter had to decide to leave the safety of the boat.

i’ve asked Him to call in the past.  i’ve then promptly covered my ears because i doubt i’ll be able to do what He asks.

but tonight, i realized that it’s on me.  it’s time for me to listen, to trust, and to leave the boat.  i just pray that i’ll have faith enough to take that first step.