life – Page 3 – Erin Ulerich

There is Joy in His Presence

I love this picture of my dad. I love the joy on his face. He is a kid just enjoying being a kid.

I love seeing that joy on my children’s faces, too. I love it when they forget I’m around, and they are in their own world, just being kids.

I also love it when they snuggle on the couch with me in the mornings. Sometimes we just watch the sun rise, transforming the darkness outside our windows. Sometimes we talk about the dreams they had during the night. And sometimes they whisper big questions into those quiet moments, questions about life in this broken world.

I love the privilege of speaking truth into their lives. It gives me joy to be with them.

The longer I am a parent, the more parallels I see between children and being a child of God. Just as my children draw security and comfort from these early morning visits with me, I draw security and comfort from time in God’s Presence.

I have to admit that I haven’t always viewed time with God as being a joy-filled experience. There have been times in my life when being in His presence has been uncomfortable. There have been times when I’ve been nervous and prayed loud-and-fast-and-got-out-of-there-as-soon-as-I-could. I could still say I had time with the Lord, but I didn’t really spend time with him. I threw Him my list of needs and got out before He could say anything.

I was fulfilling a sense of duty, but it did not nourish my soul.

But God has a way of wiggling His truths into our hearts, even when our fingers are in our ears. He has a way of bringing us back to our senses when we stray off His path.

Why does He do this? Simply because He loves us. Because He wants us to experience the joy found through a relationship with Him.

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11

The more I spend time with Him, the more I see this as a lifeline, and less as an item on my to-do list.

I wrote this poem years ago, as my view of time with God began to change:

As I sit at Your feet and lean upon Your knee, As I read Your Words to me,

A hunger fills my lonely heart. It is You I desire to see.

When I’m with You I catch a glimpse of what this world should be.

Haziness clears, what is important appears, And it is You I desire to see.

In Your Presence is peace and fullness of joy, Unlike any other place I can be.

As Your loved daughter, a child of the King, It is my Father I long to see.

As I sit at Your feet and lean upon Your knee, As I read Your Words to me,

A hunger fills my peaceful heart, And with you I long to be.

The search for joy brings us to the feet of the One who loves us beyond measure.

God’s Care Can Handle Our Worries

I have a love/hate relationship with roller coasters. I hate every moment that I’m being swung through the air, and yet the moment my feet hit the ground, I want to go again. In this picture, I’m the second person from the right. One of my best friends is on the far right. She’s the one who said, “Let’s wait in line ten years so that we can ride on the very front. It’ll be great!”

Life often feels like a roller coaster with its unexpected twists, turns and drops. I don’t like experiencing a free fall in real life. And most of life will feel like a free fall unless I remember today’s beautiful truth: God’s care can handle our worries.

I love the way 1 Peter 5:7 gives us the reason we can give our worries to God. “Casting all your anxieties on Him, because he cares for you…”

Believing that God cares changes the way we react to circumstances and other people in our life. Believing that He cares gives us stability in the midst of the free falls of life.

“As soon as we are convinced that God cares for us, our minds are easily composed to patience and humility…having cast our care on God, we may calmly rest. We ought to dwell all the more on this thought, that God cares for us, first, in order to have peace within, and, secondly, in order that we may be humble and meek towards men.” (Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries)

Believing this gives room for joy in our lives.

Philippians 4:4-7: Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Believing this gives us peace, even when it makes no sense to feel peace.

Isaiah 26:3: You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

We say what we think. We live what we believe. God’s care can handle our worries today.

God’s Love Is Lavish

When I was a little girl I would sit in the woods, watching the world around me. Squirrels would chase each other, leaping through the tree tops and among the muscadine vines, fighting over the tangy, purple berries. I never understood that because there were muscadines everywhere – hanging from the vines and covering the forest floor. There were plenty of berries to go around.

God’s love is like that. Plentiful, lavish, extravagant.

When I was 14 I began reading the Bible. I easily felt the gap between my thoughts and actions and the life described in its pages. My heart leaned in toward God when I learned that Jesus bridged that gap by dying on the cross and coming back to life. I could have that kind of life because of what He did for me, a little quiet, country girl who easily faded into the background in large groups.

His love for me is what drew me to Him in the first place. I didn’t fall through the cracks with God. He. Loved. Me. And that truth was glorious!

Over time, I relaxed my hold on that truth and I began believing lies.

One of the lies I believed was that God was standing over me, arms crossed, a disappointed look on His face. I believed He was waiting for, even expecting, me to mess up. I forgot about His lavish love, and I began trying to earn His love. I led youth groups, I went on mission trips, I was active in our church, but I was in a precarious place. I was doing good things to earn His love instead of doing good things in response to His love.

Then I hit the point of honesty: Maybe, after all these years, I don’t really know the God I am serving. Maybe I only know what I ‘ve been told about Him. So I searched the Bible to see what His Word tells about Him. And this verse lodged into my heart:

Every day the Lord pours His unfailing love upon me, and at night His song is with me. Psalm 42:8

Notice the verse doesn’t say every day that I have a quiet time and behave right, it just says every day. His love isn’t contingent on me at all. I pictured God following me around all day with a watering can pouring out his unfailing love over me. He is not stingy with His love, he is lavish and sloppy and I can play in the puddles around my feet.

I found other verses about His love and I filled a canvas with them. The words flow out of a watering can over the canvas and even spill a bit off the edges.

I put these words where my whole family can see them, because there are those moments when we forget that we are loved by God. That the Creator of the Universe looks at us tenderly and calls us precious. We forget that the Mighty God sings joyful songs over us, as we sing lullabies over our own little ones. I know I need to be reminded on a daily basis.

I hung it at a height where my children can stand under it, as if God’s love was pouring over them. And if I bend my knees to their level, I fit under there as well. Sometimes, especially on days of struggle, we just need to be drenched in His love.

We all need a reminder that God’s love does not stop. His love is not altered on days when we behave badly, when we feel unloveable or unloved. He pours it upon His children constantly. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. That truth can change the way we view all of life, if we will let it wash over us and sink into our bones.

God’s love is unfailing, unstoppable, and always available.

Truth Is Not Always Beautiful

The 31 day writing challenge starts next Thursday!

During the challenge I am writing about truths that can change our lives for the better, if we choose to believe them. Truths that Make Life Beautiful.

But this week, I’ve been reminded that not truth is not always beautiful.

And I wish it wasn’t that way.

My daughter and I sat outside, enjoying the fall-ish Mississippi weather. (At 84 degrees, we just know fall has GOT to eventually make its way south) My girl leaned against me and began pouring out the events of her day. I listened as she let out the anger, hurt, and frustration from the day, hot tears streaming down her face.

And my heart hurt for her.

That day she was hit with a truth that is not beautiful at all. The truth that we live in a broken world and rub elbows with broken people all day, every day. Intentionally or unintentionally, we hurt people, and they hurt us.

I wish I could make this world unbroken for her. I wish I could cover up the ugly and show her only the wonder and beauty this life holds.

In the middle of her fourth grade hurt, I told my daughter these truths,

A. Everyone has something they don’t like about themselves.

B. Some people will make other people feel bad in an attempt to feel better about themselves.

I can’t change these truths so that my children’s lives will be easier. But I can comfort them, and point them to the One who is Truth. The One who holds their heart in His Hands. I can trust that He will use these events over time to shape them into strong, godly men and women.

I am thankful parenting has a lot of practice time built-in. The skinned knees and the spats with siblings were only the warm up. Now we are moving into real life, real hurt, and I want to give my children the tools they need to live well in this broken world.

The Writing Life: July Blume and the Sandwich Incident

I sat in the crowded school cafeteria, staring at my partially opened lunch box, trying to figure out my next move.

My face flushed as I remembered making my peanut butter sandwich that morning. My sandwich looked so delicious that I took a bite of it before putting it in my lunch box. It was a perfect bite, with the right balance of creamy peanut butter and homemade plum jelly.

Now I regretted taking that bite. Now I envisioned everyone in the cafeteria pointing and laughing at me when they saw my sandwich.

My mind raced as I quickly took my sandwich out of my lunch box and pretended to take a bite. I chewed air for a reasonable amount of time, and washed down my “bite” with a drink of milk.

And with the second bite, the sandwich incident was officially over.

Sitting there with my sandwich, I knew with all my soul that no adult in my life would ever understand that five minutes of terror – terror of being pointed out and laughed at, terror of being different. No adult, that is, except Judy Blume. I knew she hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a kid.

I knew that because of the way she wrote. She captured my thoughts and feelings into words when I didn’t know how to describe them. Many times I would look up from one of her books and whisper, “How did she know?”

At that point in my life I was convinced that every adult I knew suffered from adult onset amnesia. They had completely forgotten what it was like to be a kid. The adults in my life were loving and supportive and I knew they wanted the best for me. But I felt the chasm between “kid life” and “adult life.”

Through her writing, July Blume convinced me to write about my childhood so that I wouldn’t forget.

So I wrote. I wrote from childhood into the teen years, from college into adulthood.

I wrote until I’d filled up over 20 journals. I covered pages with whispered dreams, sorrowful mistakes, shouts of joy, painful regrets, moments of redemption, and thankfully, forgiveness. I wrote about life. My life.

Judy Blume was a bridge from my childhood into my adulthood, connecting the chasm between the stages of my life and helping me to avoid adult onset amnesia as I raise my children.

My kids are fully aware that I was a kid, even though it was in the last century (they say with amazement, as if they are grouping me with dinosaurs). They know about my most embarrassing moment in Junior High when I burped out loud in Mr. Mathis’ Pre-algebra class. They know my childhood victory moments like reaching the top of the tall hill on my bike without stopping, then flying down without touching the brakes.

I want my kids to know that I used to be a shy, awkward kid and I remember how it feels.

And I want my writing to show that as well. Judy Blume’s writing reminds me of the importance of writing for children. I remember the impact her words had on me, and I would be honored to have a similar impact on the children reading my writing. I would love to be a bridge.

Do you have a story bouncing around, asking to be put on paper? Children today need your story. You might have the words that convince a child to start writing, that lets them know that what they are feeling has meaning, and that writing it down might make a different in the world.

They might even look up from your book and say “How did she know?”

Finding Hope In Your Story

A good story is powerful. A good story transports us into another place and draws us into the action. A good story brings the characters to life. We adore our favorite ones and want to know everything about them. We want to know their story – past and present. And once we know it, we understand the reasons behind choices they’ve made. Knowing their story gives us compassion for them, even when their choices have been foolish.

But how often do we look at our own story – past and present?

Where does hope fit into your story? Are you stuck in circumstances that feel hopeless? Are you looking forward to the future, feeling hopeful? Or are things just too messed up to even whisper the word hope?

It can be difficult to find hope in certain parts of our stories.

I flat-out avoided certain parts of my story for years out of fear and shame. I wanted to separate myself from those parts of my story, and pretend that they didn’t exist.

Then I read The Healing Path by Dan B. Allender and my thoughts began to shift. I learned that our story (the good, bad AND ugly) shapes the person we are today. If we want to understand why we make the choices we do, or why we think in a certain way, knowing our story will help us understand that. And it just might help us have compassion on ourselves. It might help us understand why we make the same mistakes or why we seek out a certain kind of relationship again and again.

As I read The Healing Path, I stopped straining to get away from my story and began leaning into it. I began to talk about my story with trustworthy friends. An amazing thing happened. No one ran from the room screaming, “What a freak!”. Not one person. Instead, they shared parts of their stories with me. And I began to have hope. Hope that I wasn’t alone in my struggles. Hope that the future could be different from the past. Hope that even the dark parts of my story could be redeemed.

And that hope reached into other areas of my life.

Hope gives us the courage to lean into our the story of our life, search out the redeeming parts, and carry them into the future.

Will you look into the story of your life and “read” it with eyes of compassion?

There is no other story quite like yours, and it is a story worth knowing.

#thefightforhope