Hole in the Brain

My mind is shot.

I’m having a typical moment. Well, really not so typical as of late.

Just a moment that’s similar to ones in the past. Where I’m tired and coiled into myself and regret every choice I’ve ever made.

Hi, I’m Ericka. Nice to meet you.

It’s just a few things. Little things that weave together into a much larger blanket.

Or straight jacket.

It’s a moment where I walk away from the God of the universe and sit and pout because “life isn’t fair.”

This is apparently going to take a awhile.

Life’s hard when ADHD is thrown into the mix. It’s just…hard. But everything’s hard.

I’m not naive to that fact.

It’s just nice sometimes to recognize it. To say it out loud. To drop all need for pretense and picture perfect photos that angle out the dumpster fire in the corner.

And there God is. Waiting patiently in all His glory.

And there I am, hole in my bleeding brain, offering him that alongside my weather-beaten heart.

I’m afraid He might be getting the raw end of this deal. But something tells me He is and always will be okay with that.


A Violent Hope is no available on Amazon.

Damaged People

I wake up in a weird panic sometimes.

I recommit myself to Jesus and pray for his mercy and forgiveness.

Something hits me squarely in the chest at night. Maybe it has something to do with the darkness.

There’s a lot of “us” versus “them” lately, no matter the particular issue. No matter the particular side.

What I feel in every inch of my being is that there are no good guys. We are all God’s people, created in His image.

And we’re all fallen creatures that will only come to see God when we submit our lives to Christ Jesus.

There is no such thing as all ways leading to heaven. There is only one way.

Don’t be fooled.

And this is why my heart spins in my chest sometimes. We’re getting closer to the end all the time. And there’s so much to do. And I will never ever measure up.

But my God takes me in His arms, and I can finally breathe again.

Because when we repent and we seek His solace, there is no “us” versus “them.” It’s only a damaged people yearning for a good, good Father.

And a good, good Father who will weed the bad from the good, an act of judgment that was never originally intended for our fragile human hearts.


A Violent Hope is no available on Amazon.

Almost Perfect

I did it.

I went without make up yesterday and lived to talk about it.

IT. WAS. FREEING.

All my life I’ve been little miss perfect. There’s even a Shel Silverstein poem called “Almost Perfect” about Mary Hume who goes around muttering “almost perfect but not quite” about everything that doesn’t meet her standards.

I lived that poem.

Of course, one day Mary dies, and God ends up saying the same thing about her.

But apparently, I liked to ignore that part.

I always had straight A’s, great hair and skin, a trim figure, the best parents, anything I wanted even if I didn’t ask for it.

I was also incredibly depressed and suicidal by the age of 16.

Go figure.

I think perfection was a drug for me. I wanted to cling to it to prove I was better than everyone else because having to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe people will like me flaws and all was too risky.

What if they don’t?

Becoming a Christian was the best thing that ever happend to me in that regard.

Because I truly DON’T CARE if other people like me. I care about what God thinks.

Period.

But the last piece to that little puzzle was to walk through the world bare faced, not concened with what anyone thinks about my looks.

Because here’s the thing: pretty doesn’t last forever anyways.

And did everyone run away in terror? No. I even got a couple of compliments about my hair. 😆

One little girl in my Sunday school class did ask why I had dots all over my face and I told her this is what happens when you don’t eat your broccoli. Okay, kidding. I did tell her this is what being an adult means and never grow up. 😆😆

All in all, it was a really good day. I wasn’t checking my face to see how poorly my concealer blended. I wasn’t worried if my mascara smudged.

I was just me, truly in the moment, vowing to God that I’ll remain faithful to him.

Flaws and all.

 

Killing Vanity

Growth is happening.

And it’s terrifying.

For the past two years I’ve struggled with acne. I’ve always had clear skin and never had to worry about something like that.

But the past two years? It’s been MY LIFE.

Every day, a frustrating battle of slathering on make up and feeling less than because the image in the mirror just doesn’t measure up.

I like to call it my “Job period,” but unlike Job, I wasn’t handling it with extreme grace and an unwavering trust in God.

I was trusting ME to fix the problem and when that wasn’t working, you know Satan would prance on in to point out how horribly I had failed.

What’s really interesting is that last week, I submitted. I told God I was sorry for being so vain and caring about something so silly. You see, it was only an emotional burden because I was MAKING it an emotional burden. If I would have focused on what God says about me, not what I CHOOSE to think about myself, then I would have been released from the psychological struggle.

But I rebelled.

God, being the good God He is heard me. And as soon as my heart was lighter, guess what?

My skin started to clear up.

I’ve been feeling nudged into eating a plant based diet and to change things up in my skin care routine. I can tell you with certainty, this wasn’t my own doing.

Because I had given up.

But once I started trade the trust I had in myself for a much stronger trust in God, life started to shape up and smooth out.

Every single time that happens.

EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

You’d think I’d learn by now. But I’m human.

Thankfully, I have a God who is much greater.

“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” Proverbs 31:30