today is july 31

Okay, I’m not joking when I say every morning I wake up, I hop out of bed, and I run to the mirror to see if I have any abs. I’m like a kid running down the stairs to see if Santa brought me presents. It has yet to happen, I still have solid no-pack, but it got me thinking about why God just can’t gift me a 4 pack. Like, why must it involve daily pain and resistance to build muscle? And even then, even after I’ve been after it for months, the results are sloooow.

And then it occurs to me he designed it all that way. The very system designed for the micro is the same as for the macro. Why can’t I wake up one day and be gifted perfection? Where I don’t make bad decisions and am genuinely nice ALL THE TIME. And while we’re at it, why is it so easy to ruin progress? The house of cards takes forever to put into position, but one tiny thing can quickly demolish everything. Why?

I’m not going to answer that. I get it. Long obedience in the same direction. (Eugene H. Peterson.)

As I sit on my couch this 31st day of July in the year of 2021, I am choosing to get up and try to follow along to my little work out lady on the television’s instructions. I will choose not to make those Red Lobster cheddar baked biscuits and eat all of them in one sitting, and I will choose to follow Jesus again today even though I have no idea if the work I’m doing is building anything. I choose because I have faith that the processes he put in place are good ones. That his wisdom is greater than mine. That I already have everything I need. And I thank him for the opportunity to know and serve him.

today is July 26

Today I’m going to talk about how much I love Home Depot. And Menards. And Lowes. And Ace. Pretty much any hardware store. When I am having a life crisis, I am very likely to go overspend at one of these places, panic buying biscuit cutters and patio furniture for a patio that doesn’t exist. Yet. One time I had to tell a guy I didn’t like him back, and it spun me into a terrible spiral that resulted in three straight days of constructing a bar. This bar.

Tomas standing behind my panic bar. Tomas is not the guy who caused the panic. Tomas would never do that. He helps me with the panic.

Nice, right? I mean, it was my first attempt so give me grace. Did I feel better after my three days of construction? YES! I did. Anytime you see a new piece of woodwork in my possession, you should probably assume something went wrong. It’s just my way of coping with stressful situations that involve confrontation of any kind. Did you know I don’t like confrontation? I don’t like confrontation. Feel free to leave a comment in the comment section, but if it incites confrontation prepare for me to pretend I’m not home. Or prepare to be gifted a small piece of furniture made from wood. Could go either way.

I have grown slightly braver in this area—keyword slightly—and I’ve been able to label the feeling I get when I know I’m avoiding a conversation I know I shouldn’t. When that feeling comes, I have started to psych myself up to just do the hard thing. 1,2, 3 DO IT. DO IT! JUST DO IT, ME. And then I do it. And oddly enough I’ve lived through every time thus far. I’m actually doing it right now. This entire post is psyching myself up for a phone call I have to make.

1

2

3

Do it, me.

Okay bye guys.

today is july 25

Sometimes I feel like a cowgirl. Kinda today, yes, kinda today I feel like a cowgirl who moves from town to town on her horse and stays for awhile until I pack up my horse and move on. Except my horse is a Honda. I feel like a cowgirl with a Honda who moves from town to town and stays awhile until I pack up and move on. Wait that sounds more like Mary Poppins. Maybe I’m more like Mary Poppins. Mary Poppins without the children. Yes. Mary Poppins living.

New Title: MARY POPPINS LIVING

I like my nomadic life sometimes. I feel like I am one of those free hanging plants with open air roots. You can move me room to room and I’ll just chill wherever you put me and absorb whatever sun and moisture I can find hanging there on your patio. Sometimes I do mind it though. Sometimes I see the trees rooted firmly in the ground. Those trees have husbands and nicer houses and higher 401k’s, and for sure better and stronger and more strategic plans. Yeah, sometimes I just wanna be a tree too. But I’m glad we both exist. And it’s not as though my roots can’t eventually find it’s ground to plant in. I think it will. Anyway, today, I am a Mary Poppins Cowgirl.

I know the way my brain works is confusing. One time I told my friend Anna B about a metaphor about Jesus and faith and cigarettes. I thought it was pretty good—I don’t remember what the specifics were anymore, sorry about that—but after I had finished describing the correlation between faith and Jesus and cigarettes, Anna B said, Erin, I’m glad we’re friends, but that didn’t make much sense. And I’m fairly certain she was right. But man do I still love my brain. I keep myself pretty entertained.

Right now I am in Atlanta, Georgia. I moved down here in February of this year, and I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Last fall I realized that the only reason I was still in Chicago was because I was still in Chicago. Know what I mean? I realized every day I was continuously making the decision to stay in Chicago, and one day in December of 2020 I made a different decision. I think it was the right thing to do. I have enjoyed my time in Georgia, with me, myself, and God. I’ve had some pretty cool moments of knowing I was in precisely the right spot at precisely the right time. I’ve learned God is the ultimate companion, yes, even pitted against a blue Honda that used to belong to your grandmother. I think over the last six months I’ve become convinced that God created this weirdo brain of mine to write stories, and that I am specifically equipped to do so, and that the process of those stories coming out of me is gonna be fun and strange and backwards and sideways and full of the unexpected and sidebars and pauses and starts and false starts and I think every day of the journey is an important one. Mostly I believe that because I believe that with God, nothing is wasted. And that He makes all things good, even when I do the not so good things. It’s cool that way. I love being a sheep. Some people might be insulted if I referred to themselves or myself as a sheep, but I find it liberating. The shepherd has to find the sheep water, I just get to follow him and drink it. And follow him and find fresh green pastures. And when your shepherd also controls the rainfall, I’m fairly confident he can grow the grass and power the stream that will keep my floating air roots operating at a nice capacity. Wait, sheep don’t have roots. I’ve mixed up my metaphors but I’m sure you follow. Anyway. Today is July 25, 2021. And I’m happy to be here.