I hope you don't read this ...

... just kidding.
I hope you do.  obviously the title I chose ... made you WANT to read it, right?  Maybe even just a little bit?  possibly?  Anyway.  I wanted to share again, a little deeper, about the link that I posted and shared last night.  The Apple commercial.  Yea, that one.  The one about a young woman who is creative, but is so critical of herself, that every time she prints something off, she scowls at it and tucks it into a box and hides it away.  until one day, her trusty dog nudges open her apartment window, allowing her designs to blow out into the night.  she chases after them, because she doesn't want anyone to see them.

lets back up.

you want to know the chain of thoughts that went through my head (isn't that what blogging is all about anyway?) when this commercial first came on?  I was sitting on the couch, only half able to see the tv because our tree is up and lit.  Landon was playing on the floor and I was about to join him.  we were watching Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.  you know, the one with the red headed Santa?  he falls in love with a blonde school teacher named Miss Jessica?  That one.  cut to commercial.  The young woman actually caught my attention as the commercial played.  I paid more attention to the commercial than I did the rest of the classic cartoon.  it really hit me.  hard.  the young woman even resembled me a little bit.  Dark, curly brown hair, freckles.  The same scowl when I design something that I think looks like a disaster.  her desire to hide.  I was immediately hooked.  and then, the arrow into my heart ... the song that played in the background, I'd never heard it before.  the lyrics said, "don't hide ..."  which is something I have mastered.

the commercial continued to unfold, and I held back tears the whole time, because other people were in the room, and would absolutely wonder why the hell I was crying at a commercial.  I searched it on YouTube when I was alone and let myself feel the entirety of the message that Apple was sharing.  I cried some tears.  You'll be able to view the full commercial below.  It is fantastic.  I am going to download the song too.  It's by Billie Eilish called "Come Out and Play"

See what some do not know, is that I took a leap.  I decided I would share the creativity I've kept to myself.  almost 8 weeks ago, a job posting came up.  it was for a marketing assistant.  I had been looking for a new job since the beginning of September.  I finally got to the point where I realized, I haven't loved any job ive ever had.  and it's because I have always hidden myself.  I haven't wanted to feel the pain of rejection, especially as it pertains to something that ive created.  remember as a kid, when you would make your project at school and you would be SO excited to give it to mom or dad? and you were so stinking proud of it?  when you create something, it's from your heart.  imagine the pain of having something rejected that came from your heart.  how much would that hurt?  a lot.

So for years, I have kept myself hidden behind things that I KNOW I can do and people approve of those things.  I can teach.  I am good with kids.  Im somewhat intelligent.  I write on my blog sometimes.  I can take really good care of people.  I'm really good at letting myself be needed.  But I've run out of pretending.  My cup is dry.  I decided at the ripe old age of 32, I wanted to do what I wanted to do.  I wanted to have a career in design.  with no schooling, a bunch of self-taught technology and software programs and years of practice and experience.

So I updated my resume that incidentally was toast when my computer decided to not work, after I decided I was going to go for my dream of a design job.  it was actually quite comically heartbreaking.  anyway ... I decided I was gonna go for this position.  I began printing out a portfolio of some of my personal favorite designs and put them in pages in a binder.  mailed my cover letter and resume and had to wait for the entire month of October until the job posting closed.

I was really feeling like this was it.  I was excited ... but not too excited because what if it didn't work out?  fast forward through October to November 2, a Friday.  I had just gotten home from work and was vegging after a long stressful week of kids and halloween and late nights.  I was watching FRIENDS.  (Phoebe is my favorite). The phone rang, it said City of Port Huron.  an interview request.  I was so excited after I hung up that I screamed "wooooo!!!" from downstairs and my dad came running down bc he thought something was wrong.

I had 4 days to prepare, I researched FAQ for interviews, specific to my profession I was going for.  I took notes, read them over, practiced on my drive to and from work for 4 straight days.  I walked into that interview the most confident I have ever felt in my life about anything challenging in front of me.

I NAILED that interview.  it was perfect.  I shocked myself.  I walked outa there and was like, "yea, I got it.  there's no way they'll say no."  I had to wait until Friday bc they had interviews all that week.  I still felt mega confident.  Friday came,  I wasn't chosen.  But I was invited back for a second round, bc she had so many good applicants.  Monday at 3pm I was to show up at the office and had to complete 5 different design assignments in 2 hours.  Mind you ... I usually need 2 hours for one assignment to really sink my teeth into it, design a couple things that I hate and THEN the money design comes out.

I designed my little heart out.  It was a ton of fun.  I was proud of them.  I was sure.  I had to wait another week to find out.  That Friday I was running through the drive thru at Panera for lunch after work.  I pulled out my phone (which for 3 months has doubled as my speedometer) and perused my email while I was waiting.  I saw an email from the city of Port Huron.  I didn't even have to open it because I knew ... what company emails you and offers you a position?  None im sure.  I paid for my food, drove to the secluded area of the Target parking lost across the way, opened up the email, read that I wasn't chosen and cried my eyes out.  For 45 minutes, I sat in my warm, running truck crying and praying and ashamedly letting people who knew i was waiting for this fateful call, that I didn't get it.  each text and email felt like a hard punch in the gut.

I had shared my heart, my design abilities, something ive kept hidden and to myself and the pain of rejection felt personal.  In the email I received back, I was told "even though you were not selected for this position, your interview was the warmest we've had in a long time and your credentials and designs were impressive, you're very good .... " etc etc etc but not why I wasn't chosen.

In that moment, I uttered out a prayer that I could barely even understand.  I thanked God for the door that was just slammed shut.  and asked him to open the next one.  so here I am ... 10 days after that slammed door, wondering what to do next.

This apple commercial inspired me to keep believing that God created me with abilities unique only to me.  and that I deserve to go after something like a career in design.  ive continued to search every day since that disgusting Friday afternoon.  Not finding anything that isn't more than an hour drive away and requiring some kind of bachelors in design.  I don't know.  my palms are up because He's the one who told me to move.  I'm trusting he is making my paths straight, bc he promised he would.

I hope you enjoy this commercial like I did.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dJCroCMBPM
 

dear future husband,

going back to the archives for this post.  I originally wrote this in my last journal.  it is dated September 19, 2016.  two years ago, I decided to write a letter, to some guy, that I don't even know, that only God knows about.  I rarely post anything from my personal journal, unless I really think I should share it.  and when I started this blogging journey when I was in my early 20s ... now in my early 30s, my aim has always been the same ... bring hope and encouragement to those that choose to read.  to let them know, you're not alone on this journey.  maybe this will encourage someone.  I don't know.  it's one of my shortest posts, enjoy .... "Dear Future Husband ..."


I have waited my whole life for you.  I haven't always waited patiently, but here I am.  I've re-examined my life many times, thinking I must be the ONLY girl on the planet who didn't know what a first kiss felt like.  The way I would imagine my stomach fill with butterflies at the sound of my name from a significant other.  Or the warm happiness that I'd feel when you would hold my hand and hug me tight.  I was always so sad when I realized none of those things happened for me.  But now, as I am moving into the decade of 30! I can see, that God wasn't withholding any good thing from me.  He was keeping me in hiding for when you would come along.  At just the right time.  The only man to know every area of my heart.  The only man I'd ever fall madly in love with.  The only man to have ALL of who I am.  I'm so glad God had me wait for you.  I can't wait to share my story with others and have the great opportunity to say "There was only one."  I've loved you and prayed for you ... sometimes with tears, sometimes with great joy.  I can't wait to meet you.  And let you have ALL of my firsts.

Love,

Dear Future Wife

ice cream flavors and God's favors

isn't that a pretty cool title?? I bet you are wondering what one has to do with the other, and well, they don't go together at all.  and this post really has nothing to do with that title.  But someone will know what it means.  she thinks i should write a book.

but for now, I'm just going to write here.  the last time i blogged, it was december.  7 months ago.  i shared about how life was hard.  that i was coming off some medication for depression and anxiety.  i shared that the effects of weaning off the medication was worse than the reason why i went on the medication to begin with.

When i wrote my very first blog post over 10 years ago now, (omg, i'll be 32 in three months) i shared that my intention in even starting a blog was to give hope to someone.  anyone.  maybe someone who has just had a bad day, maybe someone who wanted to give up hope completely, or maybe someone who just wanted to hear about another human being, trying to figure out and live out grace, truth, love, heartache, pain, and trust ... and a lot of other things.  you're not alone.  and in order to encourage someone in their journey of "you're not alone" you have to be willing to get honest.  grossly, raw, tearing pain honest.  So, I am.

i believe in Jesus.  some days i trust him, other days ... i trust him not so much.  and other other days i am wondering how to trust in a being i cannot see.  i love Jesus.  some days, i love him a lot.  other days, i forget how to love him.  and other other days ... i can't even love myself.

I have been off anxiety and depression medication now for almost a year.  i have lived and walked through the hardest, most gut-wrenching 2 and a half years of my life.  *brutal honesty coming up*
for the past 10 months, i have been bleeding.  there were days when i would wake up with hope, that "maybe today is the day that i won't be bleeding."  it never happened.  for 10 straight months, constantly bleeding.  i would go to work every day, praying that no one would find out, as in, that i wouldn't bleed through my clothes.  for 10 months, i went swimming twice a week with my preschool class, praying and hoping that everything would ... 'stay in tact'.  the only thing i could link it to was the medication that i had weaned off from.  the very week that i started tapering off the meds, things became irregular.  it was a rare side effect.

things at work were a little out of sorts as well.  lots of turnover, a public investigation into the program, program changes and i was working a split shift that essentially took over my life.  I would wake up for work at 630am and not be able to relax and come home until 630 at night.  i would be exhausted, still bleeding and 2 hours later, fall into bed for it to start all over again the next day.

can i tell you, most days it was sheer grit to not ever give up.  there were nights when i would fall into bed and cry myself to sleep, begging God to take me in my sleep because i would rather be with him in heaven than go through another day of constant bleeding.  some nights as i would lay in bed, trying to focus on truth, i was thinking about Landon.  My nephew.  i want to be around to see him grow up because after all, i actually do have a big part in his life.  i am helping raise him.  i see him everyday.  i change diapers, i feed and change him, give him baths, hug him, make him laugh.  his smile is what i could close my eyes and see when i was wondering when this bleeding would stop.  some mornings when i woke up, it was the desire to see him that let me know i could get up and fight through another day.

things at work very slowly moved along.  i had been patient long enough and even considered finding a new job opportunity.  I waited for over 3 months for a schedule to be worked out so that i could end the dreaded split shift.  it finally happened.  i had done some more research on the bleeding aspect and began taking a new approach with some different supplements.  The week that my schedule was finalized, i began to feel a weight lift and the bleeding began to slow.  i stayed on top of the supplements and stayed patient for the next part of my work situation to open up; moving into the classroom that i was originally hired to work in, 2.5 years ago.

can i tell you also ... during this transition of unknown, my sister had her second baby 3 months premature, just like Landon and the night before that, my dog of 16 years died while i was at work, covering a shift that i hadn't agreed to.  My family was all at home, waiting for me to show up for lunch, like i always do, before they took my dog to the vet to be cremated.  i never showed up bc of the shift i was covering and i found out via text 6 hours later that he had already been cremated and we would get his ashes in a week.  i was sitting in my vehicle down by the water, waiting for a meeting to start that i was supposed to be at.  i cried the hardest i had cried in a very long time.  sweat and tears rolled off my face.  i skipped the meeting and went home and cried the rest of the night.

i was up most of the night looking through my pictures of Stu, my best little pal, crying more tears.  I laid in bed awake at 330am, May 31.  wondering how i was supposed to get up for work in 3 hours and do my best to leave my broken heart at the door knowing that when i got home, my dog wouldn't be there to greet me ... not ever again.  I saw a light turn on upstairs, and heavy, fast footsteps bounding down the stairs.  it was my dad.  he said, as i was laying there with my phone full of pictures next to my head, "Erica, Angela is having the baby.  She is in labor right now."  i flew out of bed, ran upstairs, grabbed my shoes and me and mom drove to the hospital.  my dad stayed home with Landon.  Ezekiel James was born at 4:05am, 35 minutes later and was transported an hour after that to Children's Hospital, where he's been for the past 40 days.

2 weeks ago, my vehicle died in the parking lot at work.  i honestly could only laugh.  as i turned the key over in the ignition, and heard nothing, i started to laugh.  i had so many people come to my aid and try to help me.  nothing worked.  my car would have to sit until i could afford a tow and a repair.

the next day, friday,  i found out at that the final working piece was decided on and i was moving into the classroom that i had been wanting to be in, the spot in which i was hired in, 2 years ago.  my car got towed the next day, saturday and the starter that was 14 years old, original to my vehicle, got changed out in an hour and my car was ready for me to have the next day, Sunday.

can i tell you, the week i found out about the final piece at work fitting together, i stopped bleeding the very next day.  I have not bled in 10 days.

today was the first day i was back in my old classroom.  when i clocked in and went to my new spot, i could not hide the huge smile i had on my face.  one that has been dormant for a very long time.  it wasn't like work at all.  i was back where i belonged.  and even more exciting for me, the kids that i have already taught in the little tyke classroom ... will eventually all come through the 5 year old class that i am teaching in now.  it was the encouragement i needed at the right time, when i let a few parents know of the transition, they were smiling as big as i was when they realized that "Miss Erica" will be their kids teacher once more.

can i tell you ... there were days i did NOT want to get up.  there were days when i questioned what God was doing, what He was thinking.  if He was even in my corner at all.  *brutal honesty coming up*  there were days when huge blood clots were coming out of me and i wondered how God could love me in the state i was in.  On those days, it was sheer faith.  i felt like i only had a mite, half of a half of a mustard seed of faith.  there is a New Testament story in the bible.  It was about a woman who had been bleeding for 12 ... YEARS.  she heard that Jesus was coming through town and she pushed through crowds and crowds of people to see him.  i think of the images i have seen of Woodstock.  Jesus in the middle of that crowd, walking to his next assignment.  and this woman, who was bleeding, tired, scared ... crawled to get to him.  can you imagine, sweaty, dirt caked on sweaty face and palms.  rock sticking into weakened flesh from crawling on hands and knees.  she knew that if she could just touch Jesus, she would be healed.  she touched the most ragged part of his garment, the dustiest, dirtiest part of his robe ... the fabric that dragged across the ground.  she knew if she could just touch that part ... she would be healed.

on the days leading up to this woman finding Jesus, it was sheer faith.  she had nothing left to give, nothing left to offer, but if she could just touch the hem of the garment of the Healer ...

she reached for him and touched his robe and Jesus looked around at the crowd, and asked "who has touched me?  virtue and power flowed from me, who touched me?"  As if Jesus didn't already know.

on the days it was sheer faith for me, i remembered that woman, the woman with no name.  Perhaps the gospel writer left out her name because it would be easier for me, 2000 years later to relate to a woman who had felt like me at one point.  i would stand in the shower, watching blood leave my body and i would remind God of His Word, His promise.  that He was the healer, and i needed a healer.  i remember a few times i was praying and i thought, "if i could just touch you like that woman did, i would be healed."  then i was reminded of another scripture, another promise of God's word.  He said "blessed are you who believe and yet do not see."  that i am more blessed because i believe, yet do not see him.  and then again, in Luke, "blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her."


that is all i had most days.  i am going to see an OBGYN next monday for the first time.  which i am dreading.  i set up the appointment because of the bleeding.  i have seen God's favor in my life.  sometimes when God is preparing to reveal His favor, He is preparing you ahead of that to walk through the valley and desert it takes to get to see that favor.  Moses did not see the miracle of the split sea without the enemy barreling down on him,  chasing him into the miracle.

During this last season, i have felt like all i could do was let the enemy chase me into the miracle.