I Have a Dream

I have this crazy dream of being a woman people respect because she respects people. Some one whom everyone knows because she's gotten to know everyone. A woman who takes time for the important things but always makes time for the little things. A woman that invests in dreams and the people chasing after them. Someone whose happiness rings through the streets and echos off hearts like the sound of a street player's saxophone.

Can I be who I want to be without having to prove it to everyone?

I just recently returned to Facebook after deleting my account over a year ago. My purpose for returning was to simply reconnect with friends in other states and countries but also to hopefully get plugged in more with the people I'm around on a regular basis. You'd be amazed at how left out one can be if you're the only one out of 50 people that requires a text invitation to a party.

But, as I just spent the last hour doing, all I desire is for people to see me the way I want to be seen. The girl who reads Sherlock Holmes and has a dog she loves. I literally think to myself, "How much of myself can I convey without making a list"? I sit here even now thinking of how I could re-post all my old pictures with my 4-h projects and friends and all the animals I worked with. All my favorite quotes but only the ones that are legitimately funny or from a book that I take pride in reading.

What kind of person does that make me?
Repeatedly checking for a 'like' or a re-pin or a comment. It makes me a busy-body and not the good kind. It's hovering all over everything with the intent for the best out come for me. Everyone has to see me for who I want to be, not who I am. Or maybe who I am but only the entertaining parts. What is with that?! That's no life! That's self-centered-ness topped with a huge dollop of people-pleaser! If you're living a life worth much, your Facebook status won't be the first thing to show it in all its splendor. Your LIFE will speak for itself, don't you think?

On a very small scale, say you have on your profile that you love dogs. Well, if you honestly love dogs, it won't be news to anyone. People who know you would be able to say, "Oh, Erika LOVES dogs! She plays with Rover every time she comes over." To my knowledge, most people wouldn't refer to your "interests" tab as a character reference.

I have big dreams of being a woman. A real woman. One who doesn't need to tweet to show her humor and wit.

I'm a Monster

When I think of him my heart aches. Not because of what was or wasn't said.

No, But because I let my habits and opinions go to my head.

I wish our fights were just a mere matter of words!

Because at least then we’d have something to work towards.

But no, it’s me, with my pride parading through our lives like angry King Kong.

I climb to the top of my voice and refuse to let him say I’m wrong.

Why, when he gets closer, do I give him a shove?

 Real monsters only hurt the ones they truly love.

Obadiah 1:3

The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights, you who say to yourself, 'Who can bring me down to the ground?'

Past

The scariest thing about moving forward in life is all that you have ever known will become set. The past is beyond the reach of any man or machine. Nothing is more permanent than what has already been done. So many times you wish you could un-say or re-do but once done, you can never go back. You can go back to being single, or go back to your old job, but the past stays the same.

Staying the same means it affects us, even when we forget, we still had those hard times we still feel connected to that dear friend. But the best part about moving forward, is that you get a chance to make more pasts, more experiences that can form you into the being that God intended you to be.

One of my favorite words of God is "Go." Go out into the world and create more disciples, more experiences, go and make more examples of who God is and more examples of what the world he made can look like.

If you hold on too long to your past, or even your current situation, you'll grow tired and weak and soon fall. You don't do the monkey bars by hanging on the first bar as long as possible! You swing for the next! If you miss, you try again.

Don't be so focused on the past, on where you are today that you forget that

.we are made to go.

The Murder of Media

How many times a week do you watch someone get killed? Most of you will say "I've never seen someone get murdered! That's awful!" but here's another question: how many times a week do you watch a murder as entertainment? Your initial response is probably something like "That's sick! Who could watch a murder for FUN?!" But the truth is, we do it all the time.

 NCIS, CSI, Cold Case Files, SVU, Bones, the list goes on. These tv shows are what? You tell me! They're fascinating, right? But what are the consequences to watching these TV shows? You do realize they are specifically based on death. There would be no Special Agent Gibbs if there weren’t any dead Naval Officers. There’d be no Horatio if there weren’t raped, stabbed, dead women in a ditch somewhere. There’d be no “king of the lab” or Sealy Booth if there weren’t some defaced man whose identity was taken from him, down to erasing his fingerprints and attempting to burn his body.

Is that fun? Is it entertaining to watch people get killed? Is it interesting to seeing a body chopped up into an innumerable amount of tiny bits? Sounds sick when I put like that, doesn’t it? But Erika, I mean really, I watch because they solve the murders and serve justice! Oh really? What if they didn’t tell you who the victim was, or how the person was killed? Would you still be interested in finishing the show? No, because everything about the show rides on that single moment when a life is taken. The more details in the murder the better the plot, right? Sick. Horrific. Ghastly. Awful. Putrid. Disgusting. How can we sit by and not only watch, but enjoy watching MURDER! But it’s just a TV show. No. These types of things happen every day and watching these shows is numbing us against the horrifying horrendousness of a life being ripped out of the earth.

Do you still ache inside when you hear someone’s been killed? I don’t. I’ve become numb to death. When you read the story of Cain and Able in Genesis, do you see the wickedness of Cain? Do you see him murdering his own brother? My pastor showed a video of the comedian Tim Hawkins talking about The Flood and other huge, horrible events in the bible that “Aren’t in the Precious Moments Bible.” When you think of the flood you think of water and a boat with giraffes sticking their heads out and birds flying around. You don’t think of screaming, drowning, dying people and animals all over the earth.

What’s this say about how we view Christ’s sacrifice? How often do you say “Jesus died for me”? He D.I.E.D!!! Hello!!!!
 No more life,

 he stopped breathing,

his blood was flowing no more,

 his brain was not processing,

 he was dead.

A corps on a stick.

 But he didn’t just die. He was killed. If we become numb to death, to murder, we become numb to the great sacrifice God made. We become numb to how precious God sees a life. We become numb to the consequences of sin: “For the wages of sin is death”. If we undermine the horribleness of death, we undermine God’s power and the grace he’s given us. The life he gives to us.

As you watch your stories, think of what death means to you. Is it how you get your kicks? Or is it a beacon for the greatness of sin in our fallen world? 

Treading Water

I'm treading water.
I have someone with me but when I hold on to him, in hopes he'll hold me up out of the water, we both end up going under. 

The feeling of unwanted water in my belly and the need to cough it out of my lungs goes unsatisfied as I can't find a footing to bring my head above water. The sense of weakness and hopeless-exhaustion overwhelms me. My tears mingle with the water that is killing me.

I can hardly breath but I can't go looking for The Rock because of him who's with me. He talks about land, he knows we both need The Rock but he continues to tread aimlessly. 

I'm so scared that if I leave, he won't follow. Instead he will give up and drown, convinced that The Rock can only be found in the depths of the sea. 

If I could only bring The Rock to him! Moving him is impossible because we'll both drown. He has to go on his own and I do too but... if I leave, he'll die. I could never forgive myself. 

So I guess I'll swallow the waves as they come and continue treading water.


"God, you can move entire mountains but all I'm asking for is one rock, one rock big enough for both of us to stand on."

Holding On

Sometimes the things we hold on to are comparable to holding a rabid squirrel by the tail.

 It is painfully obvious that letting go of that squirrel is the best thing for you and yet instead of dropping it, you squeeze tighter involving both hands in the escapade. Your dad, who's on the porch, told you to never pick up a squirrel! and is now telling you to give it to him. If you just let go and don't give it to him, the squirrel will attack you. The only way out is to trust your dad to take the squirrel away from you and to nurse the wounds you attained from your direct disobedience.

 God is your father and sin is a rabid squirrel. We cling to our sins even when it couldn't be much more obvious that they are tearing us apart, even when we know this is what keeps us from communion with God. You have to surrender but you're scared because you think your grip is all that is keeping you from pain but truly, only God's grace and self-sacrifice can save you from that pain.

Let go of the squirrel. 

Let go of that sin.

God is faithful. God is just. God is forgiving.