Hi, friend. I’m Erin—it is so nice to meet you here.
Suppose there are a few things you might want to know up front. Once, when I was a child, I cried about litter, and once, when I was an adult, someone told me I "looked like more of a vanilla person." Also, I have a favorite tree.
The people who know me best know that I have library cards in three counties, that I love to sing, I'll never turn down a game of Ticket to Ride, and that one of my highest aspirations is to reunite a lost pet with it's owner. But the truest thing I could tell you is this: it was the withness and humanity of Jesus that turned me into a radical, and I've never looked back.
I'm a bit of a cynical idealist, clumsily working out what it means to be human. I believe in storytelling infused with generous helpings of curiosity and compassion. I believe in acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly. I believe that gratitude is the secret ingredient to living bravely, and that we cannot love what we are unwilling to see. These are the things that I most need to remember, and writing them down here is how I feel the most like myself and the most tethered to the soil underneath my feet.
If we were to meet for coffee, I would take you to Brews on the Alley, where I would definitely suggest that you try the Appalachian Tiger, and we would talk about Jesus and untidy faith, the books on our nightstand, what it means to be beloved and hopeful and committed, where to find your favorite tacos, and how the world is smaller and its inhabitants infinitely more complex than the 24/7 cable news cycle would have us believe.
There's nothing I would love more, but perhaps this space can be the next best thing?
If you're curious about this sort of thing, I graduated from Bible college with a degree in counseling and psychology, a minor in biblical and theological studies, and an almost minor in literature. I'm a 2w1 on the Enneagram, an INFJ, and a highly sensitive person—but I'm not afraid of hard questions and a little pot stirring. I'm also a pretty stubborn homebody, but I can always be coaxed outside by the promise of guacamole.
Won't you let me know you stopped by?