NOLA Series: Beauty for Ashes

In this final NOLA Series post, Erika writes about experiencing God's love through her senses, and how that has affected her journey.

Many months ago, my spiritual director gave me an exercise. She suggested I pray for God to show me His love through my senses--taste, sight, smell, touch, sound. For an over-thinker like me, this proved disastrous. I kept making the prayer complicated by focusing on what I did not understand--HOW--and then I kept analyzing everything until I just gave up and told myself, "this is stupid."

And I moved on. Forgot about all the messy prayer-like words I'd uttered in half-faith. Then Chris and I went to a wedding in New Orleans. We ate and drank our way through the French Quarter the next day. I have a sweet tooth for sure, but I'm picky. I have standards, people. I'd heard of this artisan bakery called Sucré, so I half-dragged, half-rolled a very full Chris there one evening. We ordered our homemade, artsy desserts and espresso, climbed to the second story of this converted old house, and sat on the balcony with our sweets. It was perfect, y'all. Late evening, breeze blowing, jazz blaring from the street below, and I had a shmancy dessert.

I took a bite of my white chocolate bread pudding with brown butter gelato (girl, yes), and I closed my eyes, paused out of respect for the greatness, and blurted out "This tastes like Jesus loves me." We laughed.

Then it hit me and I said "OH MY GOD THIS TASTES LIKE JESUS LOVES ME!" And BAM, love washed over me. I felt LOVED.It's hard to explain what that was like. I looked around again at the beauty of my plate, the balcony, the ornate boxes Sucré uses to wrap their confections,and at Chris's slightly stunned but handsome face. I took in the smell of the sweet breeze, felt it against my face, heard the saxophone in the distance, and was surrounded by love. My life felt like a gift for the first time in over a year.
Depression does one main thing (you can read more about my experience here): it mutes your ability to see and experience beauty. The beauty of your own soul, of others' souls, of food and music and friendship. Of being ALIVE. All of that is obscured, twisted, and smothered by depression. In that moment I truly felt an explosion of beauty.

We are drawn to that, I think. To experiences of beauty. In April I started a journey as a stylist with Stella & Dot. I cannot adequately express how CRAZY that leap felt to me! I was still battling so much depression and anxiety. I did NOT feel beautiful or put together at all. This Erika, a stylist? But something about this company, the women who run it, and the artistry that goes into it drew me in. And looking back I see that some buried part of me was desperate for beauty in my life. Not superficial beauty, but beauty in ordinary things (like a necklace) that would point me to God's I LOVE YOU. To the words I so desperately needed to believe about myself: "you have something good to offer this world."  That is a big part of Stella & Dot's mission and message--that we each have a gift only we can offer the world, and we must search it out and offer it however we can. Sometimes that happens through a gathering of friends over wine & jewelry. Hey, I can't look down on that--it saved me in so many ways! I love a trunk show because it's where I get to see and celebrate the beauty in other women. It's about watching a friend try on a pair of earrings and genuinely saying, "you have such a beautiful smile!" It's about finding the good in another person.

The women I've met through Stella & Dot are incredible, and I think I know why. We are, all of us, drawn to a community of acceptance, celebration, and yes – beauty. We carry in our hands the fragile pages of a story authored by our adversities, insecurities, and desires. And we long for someone to read those pages and tell us, "this is an amazing story. This is a story I want to know." We want to be known and loved as we are. In these new friends I see all of that. We are all broken, all beautiful, and we fiercely believe the good in one another.

Much of my battle against depression hinges on getting back to basics--back to seeing the precious value in ordinary moments. A good night's sleep, a balanced meal, couch cuddles with my daughters. I know now that this is how I will win:  By cherishing the sound of jazz floating on a humid breeze, the taste of good food, the color and feel of a hand cut stone set in metal. I will win by feeling the darkness that surrounds me while clutching to my chest the light of hope reflected by my children, family, friends, and all my Stella sisters. I will seek, there in the deepest pit, the thick rope of Grace, hold on to it, and let it lift me up.