this is good.

Reading over old blog posts yesterday, I realized that at the beginning of 2010, I was planning to move to Omaha in the fall.  I had made the decision to go to college there, in the city where my older sister lived, only two hours from my family.

Funny how God works, huh?  At present, I am in Michigan, thirteen hours from home.  Every person I know here I have only known for a month.  It seems odd to me that nine months ago, I was so sure where I would be at the beginning of the school year: I wrote, "[Grace University is] where I will be a full time freshman next fall."  When the idea of Hillsdale came up, I applied, and was miraculously accepted.  I didn't know what to do--Hillsdale sounded like a great school, but at the same time, I didn't want to leave the state. Omaha would have been the perfect location.  Finally, I figuratively shrugged my shoulders and did a bit of an engine-engine-number-nine move.

May I just say: God is alive and involved.  Hillsdale is...perfect.  I am in the hardest place I have ever been, dealing with the toughest issues I have ever faced, but it is rewarding.  The struggle brings triumph.  The bad grade brings determination.  The feeling of being constantly overwhelmed brings loss of power and gain of trust.  Slowly, I am making friends, learning a routine, and finding a niche.  Quickly, I am changing.  And I'm happy.

autumn.

Autumn in Hillsdale is not like autumn in my little home town.  This morning I woke up, put on a black dress and teal jewelry, and drove to church through an army of trees, lining each side of the road and peacefully but forcefully proclaiming their agenda of beauty.  The colors here are brilliant: a merry green changes to a vibrant orange, which fades to an amiable yellow.  It is everywhere: above my head, below my feet, and slowly drifting in between.  Outside of my dorm room, there is a wide, grassy area surrounded by trees bursting with this vitality.  It's the kind of place where you want to walk to the very middle, spread your arms, look up high with your eyes squinted shut, and spin and spin.  And then when you are done spinning, you want to sit down on the grass, cross-legged, and simply bask in the warmth of the October sun.  Autumn in Hillsdale is gorgeous.

Autumn at home is completely different.  There are a scant amount these beautiful trees, at least right were I live.  Instead, autumn is field upon beige-colored field of dried corn, waiting for a John Deere-green machine to methodically make its way up and down, back and forth, capturing the ears of yellow corn that are hidden in all of the expired verdure.  Autumn is a tow-colored puppy barking gleefully at a deep blue tractor and bright red grain cart rolling into the yard.  The beauty isn't just peripheral: inside that green combine is a dad who works until 1am to get the field finished before the thunderstorm comes.  When the puppy finishes barking, she races off to find her jolly ball, in the hopes that Mom will take a moment out of harvesting in her garden to play a little fetch.  The girl getting out of the blue tractor is my sister--helping Dad here and there by moving the tractor and grain cart from a finished field to an expectant field.

I wish I were home to drink it all in; to watch the beauty of a summer of hard work rewarded unfold before me; to give the puppy some love; to sit and laugh with my sister about anything.  Instead, I look up at brilliantly-colored leaves floating down, and am reminded that wherever I am, God is good, and He is beautiful.

(picture by Mom.)

oh, happiness!

There are some days when I simply can't contain my excitement over how good God is and I want to run and shout and spin and throw my hands up and laugh and prance and grin all at once.

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

-Romans 6:23

Knocks my socks off.

Hard or frail
Rich or poor
All in need
Need fear no more

Such a thing to give away

Oh, happiness
There's grace enough for us
And the whole human race

-DC*B

more little things

It's Tuesday.  Tuesdays are my worst day of the week, but God can most certainly redeem even a Tuesday.

• I am wearing my brand new rainboots; I love them. (Aren't these cute?)
• I adore my math class.  If I am getting burned out and sick of english or history homework, I do some math homework and everything becomes happy again.  
• I eat in a sizable cafeteria teeming with people three times a day. It gets old, but it is the best place to run into people you know.
• I have learned that pop tarts and peanut butter are essentials.  
• SO IS CAFFEINE.

These are my friends:  

someone bigger

I have been at college for one month.  In this one month I have been frustrated, stretched, annoyed, and challenged more than I have in the past year.  I haven't been blissfully happy more than twice, and I have been lonelier than ever before.  I have also been obnoxious, rude, loud, and insensitive.  Consequently, I have 2 Timothy 2:13 written everywhere:

If we are faithless, He remains faithful. He cannot disown Himself.   

Being in this place has revealed all the wads of faithlessness I've always had but never before encountered.  All of the people here who have spent more than an hour with me have discovered many flaws - I'm not very good at hiding them.  Tonight, my inconsistencies and discrepancies were screaming at me.  I was sitting in a classroom attempting to read The Odyssey, but I kept getting distracted by what a loser I was and how much I wished I were home where everything is easy.  Finally I jumped up, grabbed some chalk, and scrawled across the chalk board: "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Jesus Christ" (1 Timothy 1:14).  Every time my mind began to wander from cannibalistic cyclops' and nymphs with braided hair back to my bad day, I glanced up at the chalk board, and slowly, almost as slowly as one learns to appreciate The Odyssey, my mood shifted.  I'm not sure how, but simply looking at the words "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly" adjusted my eyes from looking inward to looking upward.  I jumped up, walked into the neighboring classroom where two of my friends were studying, and said, "Have you guys read 2 Timothy 2:13?!"  One of them looked at me quizzically and the other asked me what was wrong this time.  I emphatically replied that nothing was wrong; in fact, everything was all right because the ugly mess called Erica was of no consequence!  There was no need to focus on any of my failings, because no matter how many times I am faithless, He remains faithful! Over, and over, and over again I drop the ball, and yet none of that bears any weight on how I am loved by God!

What a thought!  It makes me want to jump up and shout!  There is someone bigger than I--someone who does not base His love for me on my love for Him.  What liberation!

Tonight, I am happy.  I am intensely human, but God is interested in me regardless.  He is drawing me closer to Him, and slowly, I hope, I will change.  All I want now is to know God--to know the One who looks beyond my fallibility and sees potential.  A lot of the time I am cynical and don't see that potential, but it must be there, for the simply reason that I am loved by God.

(Contrary to how I may sound, there are some great things about being in college, and I am so glad to be here.  I want to tell you about them sometime!)

observations from this monday

• Accountability is good. It smarts and stings, but once everything has been dealt with, you are glad for it.
• The student union is a loud place.  I walked into the deathly (deadly?) silent library to talk to Catherine, and when I told her I was going to the Union to study, she asked if my sisters and I all studied together in high school.  I said yes, and she told me that at her high school, everything was silent, owing to this the fact that I like to study in the union and she likes to study in the library. What she doesn't know is that I'm not exactly studying...
• People at my school read C.S. Lewis. (!!!)
• People at my school also sit and have philosophical discussions about the purpose of man. 
• I love the school I go to.  (To which I go.)

This is the "Fearsome Threesome." Of which I am one.

*insert Willoughby quote here*

(My apologies on having two goodbye-like posts in a row.  It just happens that way.)

I am doing something this week that I've never really had to do before...say "I'll see you in December" to so many people I love.  Not fun.

First, Liz and her family.  Liz and I have tried regularly to bridge the seventy-five miles between us since we met over a year ago. It's not too far, but it does make spending much time together a bit tricky.  When we do get together, we swing, and stay up much too late watching movies (from Jane Austen to Camp Rock - we have a Camp Rock 2 date, girl!), and go to Fazolis, and last time we got to ride in a limo.  Liz's family is one of the most fun families I know, and I love weekends in Grand Island!

Then on Friday, Dana, who I have only recently gotten to know.  Our first time hanging out, we went on a 28-mile bike ride, saw Inception (see we really haven't been friends for long!), and had an adventuresome time in the park.  The next time we tried our hand at homemade frozen yogurt.  Last week we went mini golfing.  I love her so much, and am so proud of her determination and ability to to shine through darkness all around her.  Dana you inspire me!  

On Saturday, I hugged my two older sisters goodbye.  I am trying not think about it too much.  They are living together in a cute little duplex in Lincoln, each going her separate way in the morning, each coming home in the evening to share a little supper and stories of their days.  They will love living together, and I am a little jealous and a lot sad that I won't be close enough to share suppers and laughs with them more than every few months.

After Sunday night pizza I said goodbye to Vic and Ruth, who have known me since the day I was born, and who I write down on every reference form and emergency contact paper.  

Then tonight, Annie, and her family.  I'm sure if you've read this blog much at all you know about Annie.  We've been having fun together for the past ten years. :) That pretty much sums it up.  I'm going to miss my sunshine girl.

And soon, I'll be waving goodbye to my parents and my younger sister.  I really dread this, but at the same time I know it is what's right for me at this point in my life.  So I'm squaring my shoulders and looking forward with hope, while at the same time anticipating December 17, when the semester ends and I will head home.

losing dorothy.

(Over a month ago, I wrote a little bit on facebook about Dorothy. Perhaps I am seeming redundant or even pathetic, but this lady meant so much to me that I can't really help myself...)

On one of the fine evenings we had this summer, my dad hooked his team of Belgian draft horses to the wagon, my family piled in, and we set off down the gravel road.  Five blissful miles later we were almost home, the sun had set, and the blue of the sky was slowly getting deeper and deeper.  I didn't notice the first star begin its nightly shine, but my sister pointed it out: "there's the first star!"

I looked up, glanced over at my other sister, and muttered, "That's the star."  As my sister looked at me sympathetically, I let out an "aaaagh!!" a little too loudly, and covered my face with my hand.  I sat this way for several minutes, my tears slowly finding their way down my cheeks.  In the back of my mind I was thinking, "Erica. Pull yourself together.  Your family is wondering what the heck is wrong with you."  But even as I willed myself to stop crying, a few more tears would inconveniently swim out my eyes and down my face.

That star. Every time I see that star (or perhaps more correctly - planet?), I will think of Dorothy, one of the residents at the nursing home where I worked. It is the brightest one in the sky, the first one to show itself every evening.  It sits off towards the west, which just happens to be the side of Dorothy's room which has a window.  One evening, Dorothy put on her call light, and coming into her room, I found that she didn't need anything in particular, but just wanted a little company.  I sat down on the edge of her bed, not having much to say, but enjoying a few quiet moments with this lady I had come to love.  She asked me to open her curtains, which seemed odd, since most residents ask me to close their curtains at night.  I obliged.  There was that star, taking all the attention away from all the other stars.  As we sat there together in the quiet, Dorothy opened up.  "I watch that star rise every night.  I pretend it is my husband, Tony."  Here she chokes a little.  Here I desperately hope none of my coworkers come into her room, as I can feel myself choking up as well.  She continues, "I miss him so much.  I haven't seen him for so long."  I sniffle and say, "Oh, Dorothy, you're making me cry."  Of course, her reply is gracious: "I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to."

Today, Dorothy is with Tony.  It was hard to watch her slip away, but at the same time, I was glad for her.  Over the past two years, I had watched Dorothy on good days and bad days, happy and sad.  She was content, but always read to say goodbye to the full and beautiful life she had lived.

I miss you Dorothy.

*wave*

Well Hello there Few-and-far-between-who-actually-read-my-blog-which-means-Merrill-and-maybe-one-or-two-other-persons!

Here I am, freshly home from a week in Wyoming, with so much to say!  In the past few weeks, I have been doing a great deal and thinking about a great deal.  But it is much too late to go into all that now, so I am just popping in to say hello and I will be back soon!

Isaiah 1 is fascinating to me.


The multitude of your sacrifices—
       what are they to me?" says the Lord.
       "I have more than enough of burnt offerings,
       of rams and the fat of fattened animals;
       I have no pleasure
       in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats...
  Wash and make yourselves clean.
       Take your evil deeds
       out of my sight!
       Stop doing wrong,
    learn to do right!
       Seek justice,
       encourage the oppressed.
       Defend the cause of the fatherless,
       plead the case of the widow.

14 more.

I tell ya, I have written about four blog posts in the last two weeks, but none of them were quite right.  One was about the crucifixion and the resurrection.  Another was pictures. Another was about the movie Dear John...and then there were a few random lame ones thrown in between.  I don't know why I never posted any of them; I guess I never found time to perfect them.

Tonight, fourteen things for which I am thankful.

1. Hilarious old people who make my job possible.
2. Pandora Radio.
3. The Brott Family, one of the coolest families to hang out with.
4. My black dress from Target.
5. Righteousness, and knowing that it is possible, even when it seems so very far away.
6. Ice cream.
7. Casting Crowns.
8. The trash can. (Can you imagine what we would do without trash cans??)
9. Anything written by Elizabeth George Speare.
10. Birthdays.  Annie. Kathleen. David. Andrew. I love birthdays and giving birthday presents.
11. A paycheck tomorrow!
12. Friends who encourage me.
13. Washing machines. (Again, what would we do without them?)
14. Propitiation.

"This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins."

-1 John 4:10