Pieces of Today, Apr. 6th 2016

1. A little girl teaching me to draw a horse, mane and all.

2. Hectic getting-ready for a camping trip.

3. Asparagus, fresh and green and wonderful.

4. Black pen-marks on clean paper.

5. The heaving breaths of sweaty kids playing freeze tag.

6. Artwork on social media.

7. (Never mind, I'll find someone like you.) 

8. The weight of a baby on my hip and a sweet, toothless, heart-melting little smile.

9. My favorite possession in this world...a hoodie. An amazing, warm, wonderful hoodie.

10. (I want you to live forever, underneath the sky so blue.) 

Pieces of Today, Mar. 16th 2016

1. Jed's Hobbit Rock: A reminder from my brother that I have promised to be a hobbit for my birthday, and give gifts to others instead of receiving them.

2. (Pack your things; leave somehow. Blackbird's song is over now.) 

3. Sunlight on irises and green-carpeted ground. 

4. The very first few Indian Paintbrush. 

5. (So if you see me smilin' it's because I got you to love.) 

6. (Tell everyone I'm coming home soon.) 

7. Lamplight on copper-beige fabric. 

8. Raskolniki. 

9. (Can we sail to Spain, just me and you?) 

10. Preparations for my upcoming BAPTISM, a very exciting epoch in my life this far. Praise God for the great mercy, grace, and love He has showered on me in order to get me this far! 

Pieces of Today, Mar. 14th 2016

1. A taste of my art journaling:

2. Cleaning. More cleaning. And sweeping. Sweeping is not cleaning.

3. (Everybody in the ol' cell block, dancin' to the jailhouse rock.) 

4. A new computer and a very confusing keyboard. (Seriously, this thing is so spread-out and hard to type on.)

5. Paperwork.

6. MASHED POTATOES.

7. (And I don't need this life, I just need somebody to die for.) 

8. Still mulling over Harvest America.

9. (Well, I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord...) 

10. And such an overwhelming sense of grace; grace that saved a wretch like me.

He Called Me Beloved

 “I have been wandering to find him and my happiness is so great that it even weakens me like a wound. And this is the marvel of marvels, that he called me Beloved, me who am but as a dog.” 

-(C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle)

"...And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." 

-(Galatians 2:20) 

In Which There Are Glad Tidings

For unto us a child is born, and for us a sacrifice was arranged! What joy must be found in this celebration of birth and death and rebirth again!

It's almost Christmas and I'm getting giddy just thinking about it. Jesus! Gifts! Food! The three most important things ever! Who wouldn't be excited? (Okay, on that note, gifts and food are actually a bit lower on my List of Important Things. But, still. Principles, here.)

Seriously, though, I am really pumped for Christmas this year. The past year hasn't really been the greatest for me, but for one little moment I'm enjoying the huge changes and shifts in my life. Christmas makes it feel unimportant.

Because, if we're being honest here, what is important when shoved up next to blood and birth and eternal things beyond comprehension?

What immense joy it is to watch it fold out in an epic, endless tale of trust, love, and rescuement! What precious privilege to see such wondrous salvation be begun! What joy to see a King who owns and works you in the confines of a beating heart!

"Word of the Father, now in Flesh appearing..." 

Pieces Of Today, Nov. 26 2015

1. The scent of turkey rising as we FaceTime relatives.

2. Grapefruit shampoo and warm water.

3. Matryoshkas with their painted faces and mini-mes.

4. Happy tidings sent by chat.

5. The comforting voices of men in the other room.

6. Misty air and the sounds of the city.

7. We are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams...

8. The subtle scent of egg dye and wax mixed with the joy of the holiday and creating in me a giddy excitement...(why don't we have Thanksgiving every day? For thanks need not be contained to such an often-forgotten celebration.)

9. (And I carry in my chest a pound of flesh...)

10. Old comics and classic jokes and laughter as we lecture each other on multitudes of things. (Forget not the lectures, children, for the wisdom of family dinners is not meant to belong to family only.)

God be with you all this Thanksgiving day.

Grace and peace,

Erin

Notebooks and Emptiness

What is it about fresh notebook paper that is so strangely alluring? Is it the crisp blue lines? The undented surface of the paper?

There's just something about empty notebooks that fascinates me. Despite my fetish for words and my desire to write them, I prefer to do it on the computer and leave my journals blank. I can't bring myself to mar the perfect, unwritten surface.

What is it, do you think? It's not the perfection of the paper. I've no trouble ruining that. It's not the newness. I love old paper and the smell of it mixed with ink.

Maybe it's the same emptiness that you feel in a completely void room. No furniture, no dust. Just the room. Nothing to distract, just the allowance of your imagination.

I find this addiction to emptiness odd. You'd expect it to be chilling; repulsive even. But at times, emptiness is queerly filling.

I've come to the conclusion that emptiness is fulfilling to me in the sense that it is uncluttered by myths and babble. It opens its arms to reflection, communion, and relations with God. It beckons me to come and willingly throw away distractions and focus my attentions on the Lover and Creator of my soul.

Somehow, when I think about it that way, it makes the emptiness even more intoxicatingly tempting to me. I have been struggling with the way it is so easy for me to forget to spend time with Him. I say that I'm too busy, that I have work and school to be done, and I end up pushing Him into a thirty-second prayer time before bed. I end up filling my notebook with childish complaints and excuses.

As Rich Mullins said so perfectly in one of his most beautiful songs: "I'd rather fight you for somethin' I don't really want, than take what you give that I need." 

God wants to give us what we need: the love, compassion, empathy and joy that can be found in Him alone. Yet, we often fight Him for something we don't want: shallow passions, unhealthy friendships, and superficial clutches at things we don't understand.

But

"Your grace rings out so deep, makes my resistance seem so thin." 

Praise Jesus for his grace. 

On Screwtape, Giving Trees, and Pouring Out

This week, I spent a whole day reading C.S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters. The book is a set of letters coming from the senior demon, Screwtape, to his just-out-of-college nephew, Wormwood. Screwtape has persuaded many to join the ranks of the Devil, whom they refer to as Our Father Below. The letters consist of his advice and admonitions towards Wormwood, who has just received his first 'patient' and is eager to please. 

   
I was very convicted by these letters, and some of the advice old Screwtape gave his nephew chilled me with its accuracy.

Screwtape is a master at pinning down the problem and telling exactly what's to be done about it. Yet he grows angered and wild as he writes about it, because there is one thing he can't pin down: the Enemy Himself. 

He doesn't understand this love that the so-called 'Enemy' professes for the humans. He insists that there must be some other reason to fight for them, some hidden plot that makes them important somehow. Yet he cannot come up with a plausible excuse. This frustrates him to no end. 

Another book I read lately is The Giving Tree, by Shel Silverstein. It's a children's book, but I found it haunting and poignant all the same. In it, a tree is loved by a little boy, and it loves the little boy back with all its heart. It gives him fruit and leaves and a firm base to climb on. 

But the little boy grows up. He begins to search for what he calls happiness; money and jobs and a fine house with a wife. He leaves the tree to find these things, coming back only once in a while. Whenever he does come back, the tree gives him something to help him in his quest for happiness--apples to sell, branches for a house, and her trunk for a boat. She never thinks twice about the cost her giving will bring upon herself, she only thinks of the boy she loves. 

I think that God wants to be a sort of Giving Tree to us. He pours out love and blessings on us, and the cost is canceled out by the enormous love he gives as well. 

So while I'm often a Screwtape, jabbing at God with accusations and questions, I also realize that He calls me to follow His example and be a Giving Tree in His image, handing out myself and my gifts to His people as He does. 

As Paul says in 2 Timothy 4:6, "For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come." 

I, for one, am going to pour myself out before Him, that He may make me new.

Suicide and God's Love

I've been through a lot in the past year. Struggles with depression, loneliness, resentment, spiritual indifference and even suicidal feelings have dragged me down and put me through a lot of emotional and mental battles.

I think most teenagers go through a stage like this. Maybe it's not as bad as my experience--maybe it's worse. But I know that everyone at one time or another feels unaccepted, inadequate, and invisible. As humans we need interaction, we need love, and we need it to be tangible.

During the deepest, darkest point of my struggle thus far, I toyed with the idea of suicide. I knew I would never actually go all the way--I wasn't that miserable--but I almost tried it. The allure of choice paired with the mystifying idea of an enveloping non-aliveness thrilled me. I had the idea somewhere in the back of my mind that it was wrong, but it was too enticing not to think about.

I've always had a deep sense of empathy. If you describe something to me, I can feel it to the point of actually confusing it with something I've actually experienced. That's why I never did it. I had no need to actually commit suicide--I'd already committed it over and over in my mind. I had felt knives slicing across my wrists and I have collided with a sidewalk in the city more times than I could feel comfortable telling you.

The point of all this is that I am not the choicest of people to talk about what I'm about to talk about. I'm going to talk about it anyway.

People often say that it is tragically beautiful, that it's your choice, that if you know you won't ever have another happy day in your life, it's okay to end it. That if you're not enough, you can choose to be nothing at all.

I've had people I love die. I didn't get to say goodbye to them. It is too painful to explain. None of them committed suicide, but I lost them. 

Now let me tell you something else.

I knew a guy. He's an atheist and he's suicidal. I only ever saw him at a certain scholarship program for teenagers. He was the most pessimistic person I've ever met, but he had an amazing sense of humor and he could make anyone laugh. Everyone he met instantly felt a connection with him--he was brutally honest about his situation and we could relate. The odd thing was that for someone so bitter, pessimistic, and even rude, he was the one who brightened everyone's day with his sardonic comments and teasing.

Everyone loved him. Now, he's graduated and no longer comes to the program. Everyone misses him, and several people have even left because without him, it doesn't really seem worthwhile. I haven't seen him since, but I spend my time praying that he hasn't given in to his suicidal thoughts. Because if he killed himself, not only would God's kingdom have lost a beloved child, but the world in general would be bereft of an amazing person.

He is enough. He is worth more than death. One of my biggest regrets is never telling him that.

My point is, no matter what you've done, or who has rejected you, you are worth something to someone. Someone is watching you and thinking about how much better you've made their life. And if no human looks at you and sees a beautiful life, God certainly does.

God created you. And He doesn't do things lightly. Don't you think He would have made someone worth the making?

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as unyielding as the grave. It burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame. 

(Song of Solomon 8:6) 

Please, if you've ever felt like I have; if you've ever wanted to jump off of a ledge or wrap a rope around your neck or take a pocketknife to your veins, please, please remember the moments someone you barely know has smiled at you; the times they've said something like what would I do without you or you made my day. 

Please remember that you are a work of art and the Artist can't stop gazing at you. Please know that I'm praying for you, even if I don't know you exist. I want you to know that I know how it feels. I know how tempting it is, how beautiful it looks. You are more beautiful that death, and Christ's love for you is stronger than it.

I love you and am praying for you.

Erin