There’s an old saying that goes, “…waiting for the other shoe to fall.” This saying suits a situation where one believes something is too good to be true, or when disaster or tragedy is simply expected. The anticipation of catastrophe is reckless. I know. I am on the brink of losing my marbles as I type this.
Dear other shoe, I’m ready when you are.
On February 23rd, my uncle, and my dad’s last living brother, was shot in front of his home. He passed away 6 days later. On February 26th, one of my mom’s younger brothers suddenly passed away from a double heart attack. All of this happened to me in the midst of all the other big and small issues I already had. BY THE GRACE OF GOD, I AM STILL STANDING. But it’s not easy. It has not been easy. I have shed tears. I have baked cookies. I have made visits and phone calls. I have been angry. I have been anxious. I have been silent. I have had moments of peace and acceptance. I have even had moments of utter numbness, that honestly freaked me the heck out!
I feel everything, all the time, so when I found myself feeling nothing, I thought for sure I had lost it.
Then it hits me… The other shoe hasn’t fallen yet. The services haven’t been held yet. I haven’t seen the bodies or the flowers or heard the chords of the organ. As of now, it has all just been news; conversation. Today, relatives began coming into town. Tomorrow there’s a wake for one uncle, and on Friday I am actually doing a tribute during the service. I can’t help but laugh. In the midst of pain, grief, and what seems like loss, God chooses to use me. It’s funny to me because I’m the woman who has full on tantrums regularly. I’m the woman who has walked around with bitterness and anger toward God because I was foolish enough to think I knew better than He. I am the same woman who has a love affair with certain bad habits that even Judas would probably turn his head from. I am the same sinful, emotionally scattered young woman who has been battered, scared, broken, abandoned, emptied, and lost.
And just like He has so many times before, Jesus found me. Again.
He reached into my despair and gave me something to hope for. He pulled me out of shame and showered me with things to celebrate. He chooses to wake me up and allows me to love on his children even when I would rather be doing anything but. He shows me grace. He forgives me. He cherishes me and holds me close to his heart. In the midst of me being me, my Heavenly father loves me recklessly.
His love is overwhelming. His love is the peace that covers me like a blanket when grief sends chills through my soul. His love is the strength that makes my hands write words that my mouth then speaks in front of crowds. His love is the breath that escapes my lungs and keeps me alive when my emotions begin to suffocate me. The Love of God is every inch of everything I am and ever will be.
Good. Bad. Broken. I am His. I belong to God. The other shoe may or may not fall. Heck, the other shoe may not even exist. What I know for sure is that God’s ways are simply not like mine. He doesn’t think as I do. He doesn’t move as I do. He’s much wiser and far more capable. I trust him. He called me to speak, and I will show up. It’s on Him to use my voice to communicate to His people. The best part of all is that I can show up even if I have to show up weak, or sad… or teary eyed.
For it is not my strength that I rely on.
To God be the Glory!
I am Eryka
Eryka I AM 