louissa sinclair

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.

i’m supposed to be here writing a book review, but since i typed up a heck of a long entry and managed to lose it, i’m not feeling so inspired anymore.  besides, who wants to be doing work when your head feels stuffed up and dizzy, your eyes aren’t managing to see quite as well, and when at 8:45pm, your ready to go to bed and only wake when Kingdom comes?

yeah not me.

i was also supposed to go and help with some house projects for a young couple in the church.  everyone from my Bible study was getting together and going over and i opted out.  after a weekend away i decided that i needed some time to wash the many clothes i managed to dirty in 48 hours, prepare a little something to share in the cell group that i lead, and really, to just be for a night.

so instead i’ll eat my partly frozen banana bread (simply amazing), listen to the hum of the washer and dishwasher going, wear my candycane striped pajama pants and enjoy the rather quiet (so there’s a keith urban concert playing on tv) of a usually loud and boisterous house.

yes, i went away.  i love getting away — those tiny breaks are the best.  i answer am encouraged to not answer my phone, i don’t think about projects and what needs to be done when i return home, and i try do relax and feel no pressure of any kind.

i took a walk on the dirt road sunday afternoon.  i wore leggings, a skirt, and red soft leather flats while i walked and skipped and explored different paths i came across.  i’m sure i looked completely ridiculous complete with a decorative scarf around my neck while tip-toeing through mud, but what can i say?  i’m really bad at being a country girl.  and since i never saw a soul, i sang while i went.  how can you not when you’re surrounded by orange, red, yellow, and green?

i sat on a couch and looked into the eyes of one of the nicest woman ever and told her about myself.  she then told me that i have beautiful eyes.  after that i decided that we could be friends.

we sat on the built in wooden benches around the stove and drank our water while our bodies decided to remove all nastiness by way of sweating.  yes, i went somewhere complete with a sauna.  and yes, after being a bit sketch for so long and never giving in, i did it.  and i loved it.

we talked and laughed.  we told stories and told of how God saved us and what He’s continuing to do in us.  i laid my head down each night praying with the blonde friend beside me.

and now i’m home.  and i feel like i’m in school again… procrastinating when a paper is due.  so i’m done with distracting myself with everything else around me and will hopefully finish there.

* next day *

so i never did finish that book review.  i talked and chatted and spent time with people i found much more interesting and then went to bed since my body was telling me that i needed much sleep.  oh well.  one more monday post that i’ve missed yet again.

have you ever eaten pretty chocolate? i could hardly bring myself to break the bar that’s beside me after seeing the lovely design on top of the dark chocolate goodness. but knowing how wonderful it would be, i decided to do it. the bar is broken. and being eaten.

so i eat my chocolate and listen to songs about giving up coffee & cigarettes, selling pianos & guitars, flushing booze & bad habits down the drain — thinking that in doing so, all problems would dissipate, but realizing that one must quit you (whoever you is) in order to not feel so blue. i wasn’t blue, but after listening to this melancholy tune i can’t help but be. really, the answer is to quit that song in order to not be blue. i’ll have to tell michelle featherstone that i found her answer.

and so i eat my chocolate, listen to songs that make one blue, and think about oak trees and when the best time for planting is. as in all metaphors concerning oak trees, the best time to plant was yesterday. but many times, the many oaks in our lives aren’t planted when they’re supposed to.

i’m finding that sometimes i decide or do or realize too late. i’m finding that many times actually, i realize that what should’ve happened yesterday, hasn’t taken place. decisions that should have been made, revelations of more of my humanity and seeing growth in those areas, saying the right thing at the right time — it doesn’t always happen when it should.

i mess things up. i’m not blind to the fact and many times i spend… well, far too long berating myself for how i could have avoided certain situations, how stupid i am for having flaws, for sinning, for doing everything the wrong way, but after years of hating on myself, i’ve realized that that doesn’t help. at all.

i was told that the second best time to plant an oak tree is today. the same goes for you and me.

sometimes life requires a deep breath. sometimes it requires a decision to plant that oak today that should’ve been planted yesterday in order to avoid what one is going through at that moment. and sometimes it requires a focus that says i’ll forget the yesterdays, i’ll plant my oak today, and i’ll press on tomorrow.

it was a week of… fullness. what other word can i use to describe long hours spent at an office, coming home to only grab a bag and promptly run out the door to the next scheduled thing? but despite all that fullness i managed to spend two entire evenings at home. this is quite good for me. but i’m not saying anything about my full week — i’m not saying it was bad or good. i’m rather indifferent right now as i sort through things.

i complain about being busy and i complain when i’m not busy. i just complain too much.

part of me knows that i’m discontent and i tell myself that whenever i move on to the next season everything will change. i’ll be happy with whatever i’m doing, i’ll never complain, i’ll be okay with whatever state of fullness my weeks are.

but mostly, i know that if i don’t learn to be content now, to not complain, to be thankful with whatever i’m given, then i’ll never have those things. no season is ever perfect — is never exactly what you wanted or dreamed it would be. although i’m itchy to get the move on, to start something new, i’m also starting to realize that i could grow just as bored of whatever it is as i am now.

“there is a reason the verse says, i have ‘LEARNED’ to be content and not just i have ‘become.’” my friend from tennessee reminded me of this the other day. there’s a process to becoming content, a growing of character, a pruning of immaturities, and it doesn’t just happen.

growing. i’m a bit tired of all the pruning and shaping that’s been taking place. it’s rather exhausting to be constantly realizing where one falls short and working on all the growing up stuff.

but it’s good for me. and it’s the season i am in. i will learn to be content.

i’ve been thinking of warm wool sweaters, candles, and apple desserts recently. but there’s more to fall than just that.

maybe it’s that it’s september or maybe it’s that i rather wish he was around for me to talk to, but i’ve been missing him. so much. recently i’ve had so much in my head, so many wonderings in my heart and i wonder who would want to sit by my side for a few hours and listen to the sporadic nothings that are always there. but i know he would’ve — he always did. there were countless times where we’d sit on the steps at church and talk about what was important and talk about nothing at all. it never did matter that i was years younger and that at one time the only interaction we had was when he’d make fun of my speech impediment in front of a group — he was my friend.

yeah. i miss him.

i love writing.

and i love banana bread.

i write.  i write here.  i write in my journal.  i write emails.  i write sometimes for my job.

we have a lot of banana bread.  mumsie bought a great big box of bananas for a song and a dance.  so there are loaves and loaves of freshly made banana bread on our kitchen counter.

i like the guitar and bass in the kitchen.

i like sisters who come out of their bedrooms to ask them to stop playing.

i have this one sister and she’s gonna be kinda like famous someday.  and her basisst is here at the house.  and they’re jamming.

i have another sister who has to go to work in the morning so she says to the jamming sister and bassist, “some of us are trying to sleep here.”

i hate when i want to write.  when i have so many thoughts.  when i have so many ideas.  when i’m in a season that i’m learning so much, but i can’t seem to get it out.

my brain is clogged.  clogged with thoughts.

yup.  hate that.

Frank Sinatra’s “Nice & Easy” played while we drove down that all together too well known road between potsdam and madrid.  i was frustrated with life, i was frustrated with my response to life, i was frustrated at how i’m not doing so well at this thing called life.  i had tears in my eyes as i stared out my window, watching the moon as it seemed to stay by my side.  and i thought, ‘i don’t deserve much to stay by my side.‘

i have a small circle of confidants.  i’m a quiet person concerning me and most of the time when i’m with any joe schmo,  i try to keep conversation off of my personal life.   but my small circle that knows me… they know me.  they know my faults, they know my mood swings, they know the awfulness that is in me.

i’m not a good friend.  i’m not a very good daughter.  i can sometimes be a horrid sister.  and i’m definitely the most imperfect child my God has ever had.

and yet it’s those friends, my family, my God — those who know me (who really know me) that continue to stay by my side.  and all their goodness to me, the way they care… i don’t deserve it.  but that’s what makes it so overwhelmingly wonderful, isn’t it?

i moved. well. i moved bedrooms. i moved from my yellow cozy (in other words: incredibly small) attic space that i was given when i arrived home a year ago to my sister’s larger taupe, red, and black room. shelves line the wall with her darker colored clothes and my rather pink clothes. the shoe rack is full of her heels and my flats. i’m in a queen bed for the first time in my life.

i’ve moved in here with her. but she’ll move out in a few months.

she gets married.

i haven’t really talked much about that and honestly, haven’t really thought about it (other than giving my opinion on reception halls, catering services, wedding dresses, bridesmaids dresses, places to honeymoon, colors, flowers, invitations, save-the-date cards, etc). all that business of really thinking about what her getting married does is a rather mixed emotions type thing that i’m staying away from for as long as i can. but tonight, as i organized my things and found myself putting the not-needed-right-this-very-moment type items in boxes, knowing that in a few months i’ll have room for them once she empties shelves and closets of all her belongings, i found myself thinking about it.

tonight the mumsie was teary after i mentioned her getting married. and how that includes packing her things and leaving.

“everything else is so happy, but that part is hard. so very hard.” i held her hand and kissed it while in her heart she starts preparing herself for letting go of another daughter.

“someday… someday i’ll be in a small house and it will be just daddy and me again.” i watched her walk away. just daddy and her? that sounds sad to me. my daddy and mumsie. they were made for a bustling place with lots of people and mumsie always adding another plate to the table.

just daddy and her.

that means that i’m not in the picture anymore. and somehow that made me even more sad. i don’t know where i’m going and i don’t know exactly what i’ll be doing, but someday… someday i’ll pretend to be this grown up my age says i am and i’ll try my hand at that rather cliche saying of spreading my own wings and fly.

but not yet. at least, not today. no. today i’ll organize myself into another bedroom in this house of my parents (there’s only one bedroom here that i’ve not occupied at one time in my life) and think about how for a few more months i get to share a room with my bestest.

and i’ll try not to think about that mixed emotion event that is coming up.

because someday… someday she’ll get married and leave.