I was given news earlier this week about one of my boys getting admitted in the hospital and was praying hard that he would recover.  We weren’t really sure what all was wrong, but I knew it was serious.  

And then yesterday.  Yesterday really sucker punched me.

My  heart is really feeling it today as I know many others are too.  It’s been a while since I’ve felt this numb; this has been a hard month of goodbyes for me, and it’s only the 15th.

He gave me grey hair and yet I loved him.  He would put on a tough-guy exterior every once in a while…especially when someone would punch him in the arm. He’d turn around with a glare, ready to give a piece of his mind and then his glare would soften into a smile when he saw it was me.

It’s hard.  It’s hard losing people.  I feel this grief and all I can do is just rest in it right now, and sometimes…we just need to do that.  We get so busy with everything we have to do that we don’t take the time to let our heart grieve or process.

Today my heart really hurts, and I’m giving it the space to feel right now.

One of the love/hates that I have about Facebook is the memories option.  I usually love it.  I usually laugh about the silly things that I would post or shake my head in embarrassment about them.  Because let’s be honest, I have done a lot of crazy things…some that I wish I could take back.

Today, I was suppose to be sitting in a coffee shop with my friend, working on my art, while he was working on grading.  However, I am currently sitting at my dining room table staring out the window at the swirling white mass that has graced our lives today.  It brings back memories.  Memories of long walks down the railroad tracks, taking pictures of the freshly fallen snow.  Memories of trying to make honeycomb and failing drastically. Memories of sledding with coworkers. Memories of making chicken noodle soup and getting angry when my soup was rebuffed.

You see the thing about the Facebook memories is that it reminds me of everything leading up to tomorrow.  I see these memories, and I want to take hold of my past self in a huge hug because she didn’t see it coming.  She didn’t know that in less than 24 hours, she would be walking down the hospital hallway to say a final goodbye to her dad.  She didn’t understand how much she would regret a few of her actions that led up to that day.  She didn’t know that her final words to her dad would be, “Will you be okay?” instead of “I love you.”

But what I love about Facebook memories is that even though I see my heartbreak, I see my life being built again.  I see the progress of college and teaching.  I see my girls protecting me at school when it was an extremely rough day, and Miss Erin couldn’t handle it anymore.  I see my LCS students making me laugh hysterically, but also showing me their love when I was going through some difficult days saying goodbye to other family members.  I see the joys that I have had, and the friendships that have blossomed through the years since dad’s death.  I see the uncertainty I faced, not knowing if I was making the right decisions.  I look at it all; I see where I have walked, where I have struggled, and where I have had victories.

Today, I look out the window with the ground blanketed in snow and smile.  Yeah, the tears are there; the tears will always be there, but I am reminded of the beauty and goodness of God.  I am reminded that even in my darkest moments, He has me in His arms.  I am reminded that in my highest joys, He is there.  And through it all, I will continue to keep my eyes on Him.  He has the victory.

“I didn’t want to be on the stupid basketball team anyways!!”

You can imagine my surprise when the little girl I had been tutoring suddenly burst out with this exclamation.  I looked at her in slight confusion and a tiny bit of shock, “What?”

“I said, ‘I didn’t want to be on the stupid basketball team anyways!!'”

My brain, slightly slow to process, started to put it together, “Oohh…did you try out and not make it?”

Heaving a sigh, she said, “Yeah, I have to be in stupid gymnastics.”

“I see….are you disappointed you didn’t make it?”

She looked at me and said with a tiny voice, “Yeah…I kind of wanted to play.”

I looked at her, “Hmmm…you know it is okay to be disappointed. You wanted to be on the team. But, this doesn’t mean you’ll never be on it, maybe you’ll get to be on the team next year!” I continued,”Plus, I thought I loved you gymnastics!  This means, you get to really focus on it.”

She looked at me and smiled, “Yeah!”

I was thinking about this conversation today.  Life doesn’t always pan out the way we expect.  Sometimes, we get hit with news that punches us in the gut.  Sometimes, we are left wondering what is going to happen next.  Sometimes, we sit in the car and cry.

We then try to hide our disappointment by saying statements like, “I didn’t need it anyways!” or “It was a stupid idea,”  etc.

It’s okay to be disappointed.  It was a hope or a dream that had been dashed.  It was something your heart had been set on.  It’s okay.  It’s okay to acknowledge the hurt.

I’ve had to learn how to not let my disappointment debilitate the next steps I take.  I don’t know about you all, but life weighs on my shoulders heavily at times, and it is easy to get bogged down by it.  Life has had a way of taking me down a journey that I never imagined I would experience.  It has been filled with a lot of heartache, but it has also been filled with a lot of joy.   Because deep down in my core, I know things may not work out the way I thought, and, yes, I’ll be disappointed; however, I pick myself up, knowing that there is something else this wild journey of life will lead me to.

My 21st year of life was a pivotal year.  This was the year of change.  I was tired of being overweight.  I was tired of my life seeming stagnant, and I decided change needed to happen.

I started eating differently and began running.  I, also, knew in my heart it was time to begin looking for mission opportunities. So, the search commenced.  Everyone seemed to expect me to go back to Russia, and I had high hopes of doing so.  However, every place I looked required some type of degree, and I had yet to go to university.  Russia was crossed off my list but not my heart.  I ended up finding YFC One and the many opportunities they had for a gap year.  I knew instantly this was the one and began the application process.   Most of you know that I was accepted but ended up waiting a year because of all that was happening with dad and the nursing home.

In the meantime, I was shedding weight like crazy.  I would like to tell you that it was healthy, but it wasn’t.  It became an unhealthy obsession which turned itself into a type of eating disorder: orthorexia.  I limited myself to certain foods and pretty much cut out all fat.  I exercised whenever I had a free moment: morning, after work, and in the evening.  I would check my weight all the time and would panic if I gained two ounces.  That panic would lead me to walking in place while in the bathroom until those two ounces were gone.

I ended up losing 60 pounds, a gallbladder, and discovering my breaking point.  Easter came, and we had our family meal.  I was panicking on the inside because none of the food that was being served was on my approved list.  While everyone rested, I changed and ran for three miles straight.  I remember finishing my run and sitting down on the ground to cry.  I was weary; I had mentally berated myself to exhaustion.

How did I go from zero to one hundred so quickly?  How did I let myself get to that point?

I loved the compliments that I was receiving.  I loved seeing the physical change in myself.  But, deep down it all pointed to fear.  Fear of being a failure; fear of being unloved.   I lacked confidence and didn’t believe I had value.

It took a while to get back on track.  It, also, helped that I was living in a foreign country and couldn’t control what I was given to eat for the most part.  I worked with girls and talked with them about their value and how they are loved.  Slightly hypocritical, right?  The thing is I started to believe again that I had value and that I was loved no matter what my size.  It was a hard battle though and one that I had to give continually to God.

Why am I telling you this?  Well, I’ve started watching my calorie intake and began exercising again.  I am doing this because I want to arrive at a healthy point.  I loved pizza too much these last few years.  So, I am not overdoing it.  Am I scared that I could revert back to that old lifestyle? No.  I have a gym buddy and an accountability partner who will kick me in the butt if I get obsessive.  But, the reason why I am confident that I won’t is because my mindset is different; I know and believe my value and my worth this time.

“No one is without troubles, without personal hardships and genuine challenges.  That fact may not be obvious because most people don’t advertise their woes and heartaches.  But nobody, not even the purest heart, escapes life without suffering battle scars.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich

“Sometimes, the scariest thing you will ever have to do is trust God to fight the battles you can no longer fight.”
― Shannon L. Alder

This year has been a whirlwind.  It started off knowing that I would be taking a break from teaching after the school year ended.  Did I have a plan?  Not really.  I had an idea, but come to find out…that idea did not take off.  But I knew in my heart,  it was time for a change because I could feel how exhausted and unwell I was becoming.   Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE teaching. I LOVE my students so, so, so very much.  Anyone who hears me talk about them, knows this. I, also, know my strengths, and I am passionate about one-on-one tutoring.  It’s my happy place….classroom management, maybe not so much.

  Identity

As the school year came to a close,  I felt peace about my decision but I felt like I was losing part of myself.  My life had been consistently 24/7 teaching; what do you do when it no longer is?

It amazes me how much value we place on our occupation/vocation.  The first couple questions that you ask a person typically entails something like the following: “What’s your name,” and “What do you do?”  My typical response would include, “I am a middle school English teacher.”  And then from there, you set your place in the world.  But what do you do when suddenly it isn’t true anymore?  Who are you?  Because, as crazy as it sounds, we don’t introduce ourselves using our qualities and traits; even though,  that is what we value in our relationships and friendships.  I am not friends with someone because of their occupation; I am friends with someone because I value their honesty, kindness, humour, and/or adventure-like spirit.  My friends consistently help me become a better version of myself because that is who I want in my life.

So this summer, I faced the reality of no longer having to worry about the following school year.  It was weird.  I didn’t have to camp in a coffee shop for a week to lesson prep or figure out new curriculum.  And, I felt lost and wasn’t sure about myself anymore.

Murphy’s Law

Most everyone knows about the Malibu incident involving the tire explosion.  Not everyone knows that it was my dad’s car. When I had to take everything out of the car after it was totaled, I was a mess. It was 90 degree weather and there I was transferring everything out of the car, sobbing and sweating a waterfall.  The thing is, I was instantly transported back to the hospital having to say goodbye to him all over again.  My heart broke.  My memories of him were vivid in that car, and it was like I had a part of home with me.  It was a cathartic day for me.  Thankfully, I have his cross hanging in my new car; so even though I don’t own the Malibu anymore, I still have that constant reminder of my dad.

To top off the Murphy’s Law week, I ended up blacking out during a plasma donation.  My phlebotomist and I had a laugh over that because we had just discussed everything happening in my life.  After I was back to normal, I looked and whispered, “Murphy’s Law,” to my phlebotomist and she patted my hand saying, “Oh baby, Murphy’s Law is right.”

Wellness

With all of this happening, how was I emotionally?  I was a depressed mess.  I have shared in the past about dealing with depression and anxiety, and it definitely hit me hard this time.  I would have good days, and I would have very bad days.  But, I am thankful for my friends who would check up on me and get me out of the dark places in my head.  I am thankful for the people who constantly remind me of my value and strength.

My goal for this year is to get back to a healthy version of myself: physically, mentally, and spiritually.  I am taking baby steps and trying to make my goals attainable.  I am trying to keep with my word of the year, “be,” because I want to be present, to be intentional, and to be available.  It is so easy to be consumed by life and the craziness, and I don’t want to be led by that.

There you go.  This is me.

Hello, my name is Erin.  I try to be honest, kind, and intentional.  Sometimes I fail and sometimes I hit a home-run…but isn’t that the wonderful journey of life?

I broke down in front of my 8th graders this week.  We’re reading the The Hiding Place and Chapter 2 hit hard.

At a young age I was terrified that dad was going to die, and there were many nights that I prayed, “God, please let my dad live.  I can’t live this life without him in it.” It was a constant prayer….there were a lot of nights crying myself to sleep.

So, there comes up a point in the chapter when Corrie experiences death as a concrete thing and not as an abstract idea.  She begins to realize that she could lose everybody in her life, and one night as her dad was saying goodnight she pleads with him:

 “that night as he [Father] stepped through the door I burst into tears, “I need you!” I sobbed.  “You can’t die!  You can’t!”
   …Father sat down on the edge of the narrow bed.  “Corrie,” he began gently, “when you and I go to Amsterdam – when do I give you your ticket?”
   I sniffed a few times, considering this,”Why, just before we get on the train.”
   “Exactly.  And our wise Father in heaven knows when we’re going to need things, too.  Don’t run out ahead of Him, Corrie.  When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need – just in time.”

I began to weep and my 8th graders had no clue what was happening.  I forced one of them to finish reading the passage for me because I couldn’t get through it.

This was a hard week; the grief hit me.  The memories swirled around me, and I just wanted Dad around. Tomorrow will be 8 years and the tears still flow freely.

I talked with my 8th graders the next day.  I let them know what happening with my life, and then I told them,  “That passage hit me hard because I miss my dad so much, but  Casper’s words are so true.  God gives you the strength even when your heart breaks.  I hope that you guys realize how much wisdom you are reading because this story is a powerful example of having a strong faith in the darkest of circumstances.   So…I’m good guys, really I am….I am just sad and that’s okay.”

“This is my winter song to you.  The storm is coming soon; it rolls in from the sea.  My voice a beacon in the night; my words will be your light to carry you to me.  Is love alive?” -Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson

No matter how many years have passed, I still remember the cold January afternoon in 2010.  I was working on writing an essay for a scholarship, and I had “Winter Song” playing on repeat in the background.  Dianne was washing up dishes, and we ended up talking about what I would like to study at AU.  I still had aspirations for the music program….the thought of teaching hadn’t truly crossed my mind yet.  Dad was in his room watching “The Sound of Music.”

Fast forward 8 years, and I am now sitting in my dining room/living room/kitchen.  Have I told you about my apartment?  Probably not.  I quite love it, even though it is extremely small and I have no washer or dryer.  It helps me keep my pack rack tendencies to a minimum; I have to consider where I will put everything.  I have even cut down on the amount of movies and books that I buy.  For reals, crazy!  There may be hope that I won’t turn into a cat lady who has melted doll heads collecting dust in the attic.

The last four years since graduating AU have been a whirlwind.  I have fallen in love with teaching.  However, I have learned that my passion is not in full-time classroom teaching; in fact, my passion is tutoring.  I love it when I can focus my attention on one or two people and really help them understand.  That is when I feel so alive and when I feel happiest. So this year is going to be a year of transition.  I won’t go fully into what that looks like yet because I am still trying to figure it out.  However, I would appreciate your prayers.  For my coworkers reading this, you guys know I love you so much.

My friends have a tradition in which they choose a word to represent the new year.  I have never done that before and so I did not have a word when they had asked at first.  However, I began to ponder what word I would want to represent my year.   What were the things that I wanted to work on and improve?  I want to improve my relationship with God.  I definitely want to improve my health, this whole emotional eating needs to stop.  I want to be intentional with my relationships.  So, the word I chose is “be.”  I want to be.  I want to be present.  I want to be active.  I want to be intentional.  I want to be love.

So there you go, this is going to be a year of transition.  I’m excited, and I am scared.  However, I am ready to be.  Thank you for your love.

Always~Erin

Earlier this semester, I posted about my struggle with mild anxiety on Facebook.  I discussed how what I was dealing with may not be a big deal to some but it was/is a big deal to me.  How do you explain to people about the weight resting on your heart or how hard it is sometimes to get out of bed when they don’t experience it?  It can be crippling.

I am going to be honest once again, these past 10 years have broken me.  I never imagined that my dad and his siblings would all be gone in a span of seven years.  I never imagined I would have to bury students or have to worry about my friends’ safety overseas.  I never imagined a lot of things that have happened.  Maybe I was still dreaming that life would be butterflies, rainbow unicorn poop ice cream, and warm fuzzies.

My heart is a series of patches glued back together by God.  Grief is like the ocean to me.   There are days when I am fine, and there are days when it hits me hard.  Anxiety and depression are the same.   Mental health is not necessarily often discussed in the Christian circle.  There is a stigma attached to it, and I think people are afraid to admit when they are struggling because it makes them less “Christian.”  Or something is wrong with your relationship with God if you continue to struggle, and He isn’t healing you of the anxiety/depression.  There was one point that I was stuck with the “Well if your dad isn’t being healed maybe you don’t have enough faith.”   Cut the bull crap.  Those are lies trying to defeat you and me.

Ya’ll I am a horrible Christian.  I mess up every single day someway or another, and yet I know that God continues to forgive me and use me.  I am so thankful for His grace and mercy.  Each day is a new day.  A new day to choose to overcome the obstacles life brings.  Each day is a new day to choose joy.

2 Timothy 1:7 states, and I loosely quote, “For God did not give me a spirit of fear or timidity but one of strength, love, and a sound mind.”  I cling to that verse daily, especially with new obstacles being tossed at me.  God did not give Erin a spirit of fear or timidity….but He gave Erin a spirit of strength, of love, and a spirit of sound mind.  There is freedom in that verse for me.  There is freedom in God.  Life hurts but yet I find my joy and my strength in Him.

We said goodbye to my beautiful aunt this past week.  After a year of battling pancreatic cancer, she is finally reunited with her parents, her sister (Aunt Doreen), and her brother (Daddy) in heaven.  Although I am happy that she no longer has to struggle or be in pain, my heart grieves for the loss of another beautiful soul from this world.  I love her and I miss her so very much right now.

*I am going to be honest right now, I am a blubbering mess as I write this post.*

“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” ~Kahlil Gibran

Aunt Karin was a delight to all she met.  She spoke her heart and eloquently expressed her thoughts on life and love to all she came in contact.  She became even more outspoken as the year progressed, and she taught us how to live in the present.  Her wisdom touched many and inspired us to live fully.  She showed what it meant to live in grace and how to be gracious. She taught us what it looks like to fight and that “time is a precious commodity and it is worth fighting for.”  She exuded peace and lived in the Spirit.

I will forever cherish the moments God gave us together as a family, and the extra time I was able to spend with her and Uncle Jerry this year as a spoon bearer.  I will forever cherish our talks, our accidental naps and her morning, cinnamon coffee.  I will forever cherish the peace of her presence.  I will forever cherish the wisdom and grace she imparted to all of us.

I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

~Tennyson

I loved her and she loved us.  Tomorrow we remember her life and celebrate her well deserved homecoming.  And so my heart grieves and will continue to grieve, but I will forever cherish the delight of having had a beautiful Aunt Karin.

When I think about love, I think about my family.  There are not enough words to express how I truly love my family.  Sadly,  I overuse that word and often casually toss it around to describe fleeting objects.  For how can I use the same word to express my unhealthy relationship with  pizza and also use it to describe my feelings for family.  Obviously, pizza is a quick stomach pleaser and doesn’t last forever.  But family?  Family is part of the heart and soul, and when we lose someone too early, no wonder our heart feels like it is being squeezed and crumbled.

My coworker and friend, Phil, always defines love as, “a determination of the will to look out for someone’s best interest despite how you feel.”

I appreciate this definition because when I see true love in action, I don’t see selfishness, pride, anger, frustration, or even jealousy.  I see my friends and my family placing others first despite how they may be feeling.

The past six years have hit us hard.  The past five months have seemed to knock the air out of us continuously.  I don’t always understand life, and I will be honest, I had a “what the double hockey sticks” moment.  Life is reevaluated during these times, and one really begins to weigh what is deemed as truly precious.  Suddenly driving home two and a half hours to be with family for less than five hours does not seem as crazy.  Or randomly popping by to see family out of the blue isn’t out of the way anymore.  Or giving someone an extra long hug because you don’t know if or when you will see them again is wanted and needed.

Treasure the moments you have with those you love.  Put away the electronics and be there.  Soak in the memories and cherish the time. Live purposefully.