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Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

Archives for April 2014

April 29, 2014

Book Club Discussion: The Light Between Oceans

the_light_between_the_oceansThanks to everyone who joined us for this month’s virtual book club. Today we’re discussing The Light between Oceans by M. L. Stedman.

Here’s how it works: I’ll throw out a few topics for discussion, and you can write your responses about these topics (or others you’d like to discuss) in the comment section.

Discussion #1: Moral Dilemmas

My favorite aspect of this book was the way it posed moral dilemmas and forced me to ponder what I’d do in that situation. I like to think I’m not the kind of person who would keep someone else’s baby, but when I put myself in Isabel’s shoes, I understand why she did what she did. I also appreciated that the book explored what happens when you make one bad choice and everything unravels to the point that it seems like there’s no longer a right choice to make.

Which family did you want Lucy-Grace to end up in? Why? Have you ever found yourself in a spot where it seems like the right thing is no longer possible?

Discussion #2: Justice vs. Mercy

When the baby washes up on Janus Island, Isabel says: “Love’s bigger than rule books. . . . Our prayers have been answered. The baby’s prayers have been answered. Who’d be ungrateful enough to send her away?” (p. 103). She sees the world—and this baby—through the eyes of mercy. Tom, on the other hand, is plagued by his conscience and his desire to do the right thing: “You could kill a bloke with rules, Tom knew that. And yet sometimes they were what stood between man and savagery, between man and monsters” (p. 104).

Did you resonate more with Tom or Isabel in this tension between justice and mercy? Did your perspective change as the book went on? In your own life, do you tend to lean more toward mercy or justice?

Discussion #3: The Book’s Setting

The lighthouse seems to serve as something of a metaphor in the book—a symbol of hope and safety for Isabel and Tom. When they left the lighthouse behind, it was almost as if their family’s light was extinguished. As they left Janus Rock, Tom wished Isabel would “give him one of the old smiles that used to remind him of Janus Light—a fixed, reliable point in the world, which meant he was never lost. But the flame has gone out—her face seems uninhabited now” (p. 214).

Do you think this story would have worked in another setting? Would you be able to live on an isolated place like Janus Island?

Discussion #4: Tense Shifts

Okay, this is a nerdy English major observation. Did you notice that the tense changed between past and present? It bothered me a lot at first, but as the story progressed, I realized the author was doing it for effect to make certain scenes more intense. By the end, I was grudgingly willing to go along with it.

What did you think about the tense changes? Was it distracting, or did you think it worked?

Discussion #5: The Ending

When I got to a certain point in the book, I had this horrifying realization: It’s impossible for this book to have a happy ending. I was right. It was sad for Isabel and Tom, who lost the little girl they loved and the chance to be parents. It was sad for Hannah, who would never truly get back the child she lost. And most of all, it was sad for Lucy-Grace, whose life was irreparably splintered through no fault of her own. I also felt a little emotionally manipulated at the end. Of course, Isabel is dead when Lucy-Grace returns. And of course she died just a week ago. And of course I cried buckets of tears onto my pillow against my will.

What did you think of the ending? Did it seem realistic? Is there an ending you would have liked to see instead?

Rating:

Although the plot was a bit melodramatic at times, I appreciated the evocative themes and the rich writing. The characters felt real, and their internal struggles were palpable. This one is going to stay with me for a while. I would give it three stars (out of five).

How many stars would you give this book?

 

{Remember: I’ll give away a free book to one lucky commenter! Respond by Friday to be eligible to win.}

 

 

16 Comments Filed Under: Book Club, book review Tagged With: Book Club, book discussion, free book, giveaway, Literature, M. L. Stedman, The Light between Oceans
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April 25, 2014

Friday Favorites: April

friday_favorites_header1

For anyone looking for a customized book recommendation . . .
These book recommendations are based on your personality type. Does yours fit? (Full disclosure: I read The Marriage Plot, the choice for INFJ, and I wasn’t crazy about it.) Myers-Briggs Books

For anyone who appreciates a good dose of marketing irony . . .
Somehow these products didn’t translate perfectly into other languages. Pee Cola, anyone? 8 Disastrous Product Names

For literary geeks who are looking for a summer road trip . . .
You could visit King’s Crossing this year. Or maybe Prince Edward Island, for all you Anne of Green Gables fans. Or perhaps you’d prefer a quiet getaway to Walden Pond. 12 Literary Pilgrimages

For anyone who’s had a long winter and is itching for a beautiful view . . .
These places are bound to make you want to hop on a plane to Bolivia or Maldives or Namibia: Surreal Places That Actually Exist on Earth

For anyone who’s wondered if Easter morning would ever come . . .
Jennifer Dukes Lee offers this lovely reflection on Holy Week: “I lived years of Good Fridays, holding out for Sunday, swimming in doubt.” Sunday’s Coming

For anyone who wants to believe in miracles . . .
Eric Carle, author of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, was reunited with the childhood friend who inspired one of his books—some 80 years later. An Easter Miracle

2 Comments Filed Under: Friday Favorites Tagged With: books, children's books, Easter, Eric Carle, Friday Favorites, Jennifer Dukes Lee, Literature, Myers-Briggs, personality types, photography, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, travel
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April 22, 2014

Spring Will Come

daffodil; StephanieRische.comSomehow I don’t think it’s happenstance that Easter falls in the springtime on our calendars. God is a master of metaphor, after all, and he delights in giving us natural whispers that echo deeper truths. And after a long winter like this one, I think we’re all extra attuned to the cues of spring this year.

There’s something about waking up to the melodies of birdsongs that makes you wonder if new life just might be possible. There’s something about feeling the warm kiss of sunshine after record-setting snowfalls that makes you think there really might be such a thing as second chances. There’s something about seeing the first bunch of daffodils poke their golden heads out after a long winter that makes you believe in miracles again.

I just celebrated my ten-year anniversary of living in my house, affectionately dubbed the Nut House. (Whether that’s an allusion to my street address or to its occupant is anyone’s guess.) It’s the first place I lived on my own, and when it came time to move in, I felt scared and alone. Somehow I’d always imagined buying my first place with a husband—getting a cute starter home together and putting up with squeaky faucets and endearingly hideous olive green wallpaper until we could afford to fix it up. What I never pictured was jumping into that milestone solo.

I’d bought the place in an uncharacteristically split-second decision, not knowing much about the city or neighborhood beforehand. I remember going on a walk the day after I moved in, trying to get my bearings (and also to prevent myself from hyperventilating over how many boxes I still had to unpack and how I didn’t even know where the grocery store was).

As I ambled haphazardly along the path, I turned a corner, and all at once I was greeted by a canvas of yellow. Apparently the world had exploded in daffodils while I’d been busy worrying about other things. In that moment, I sensed God whispering to me that it was going to be okay. He was doing a new thing, and there would be new life, and I wasn’t always going to feel like daffodil bulb stuck under the dirt, struggling to break through the surface.

Ten springs have passed since that day, and my home is now brimming with memories and music and love. Over the course of a decade, friends and neighbors and guests and family have crossed the threshold of my door. Secrets and dreams and prayers and meals have been shared between those walls. I have started to grow into my own skin there. And to my great surprise, I now share this residence with a husband (who was entirely worth the wait) and the guitars and bicycles that moved in with him.

Last week Daniel and I went on a walk together to mark the tenth anniversary of the place both of us now call home. The daffodils were bursting gold along the path, just as they always do.

And as the sun streamed between the tree branches and onto my neck, it felt like God was whispering the reminder to me again, a decade in the making:

Winter does not last forever. Spring comes. Spring always comes.

Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.
— Martin Luther

6 Comments Filed Under: Seasons Tagged With: daffodils, Easter, hope, Martin Luther, miracle, new life, Spring
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April 17, 2014

New Thursday

Perhaps no other week in the year is as full of dramatic turnarounds as this one.

Good Friday turns into Easter.
Winter melts into spring.
Sadness turns to joy.
Despair is trumped by hope.
Death is trounced by life.

Christianity is marked by those defining moments when everything changes: Creation. Exodus. Incarnation. And so it is with Maundy Thursday. On that night, the whole tilt of the earth shifted. On that night, Jesus made a proclamation that reframed all that was and all that will be:

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
—John 13:34

The English word Maundy comes from the Latin word mandatum (mandate or command), the first word of the phrase “Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos” (“A new command I give you . . .”).

The Old Testament records some 600 laws and rules. Yet in that seismic shift the night before his death, Jesus installed just one new law that covered all the old ones. Love, he said. Love, love, and more love.

But before new could replace old, before life could replace death, before Easter morning could dawn in all its glory, there had to be that long, dark night between Good Friday and resurrection.

According to Watchman Nee, the same is true for us:

God must bring us to a point—I cannot tell you how it will be, but he will do it—where, through a deep and dark experience, our natural power is touched, and fundamentally weakened, so that we no longer dare trust ourselves. . . .

We would like to have death and resurrection put together within one hour of each other. We cannot face the thought that God will keep us aside for so long a time; we cannot bear to wait. . . . All is in darkness, but it is only for a night. It must indeed be a full night, but that is all. Afterwards you will find that everything is given back to you in glorious resurrection; and nothing can measure the difference between what was before and what now is!

—Watchman Nee

Do not fear that dark night. It must come to make space for new life. For Easter. For resurrection.

2 Comments Filed Under: Seasons Tagged With: Christianity, Easter, Good Friday, Love, maundy thursday, new life, resurrection, waiting
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April 15, 2014

Love Is Weird

In the words of that famous theologian Liz Lemon, “Love is patient. Love is weird, and sometimes gross. Love is elusive.” Not quite the words of Paul, but I rather think he would agree.

This month I’ve been memorizing 1 Corinthians 13, trying to marinate in what it means to really love someone. Patiently. Kindly. Unjealously. Hopefully. Enduringly. Unfailingly. I’ve been doing my best to put this into practice with my husband, my family, my friends.

But recently I was struck by this lightning-bolt realization:

I don’t get to choose who to love.

Earlier this week I was an utter jerk to someone. The story isn’t interesting, but suffice it to say that I was petty and selfish and rude and stubborn. Most of the time I’m able to keep the ugly pretty well underground, but on that day it came bubbling right to the surface.

All those good words I’d sealed into my heart about not being rude and self-seeking flew right out a sneaky back door reserved for caveats. Somewhere along the way, I suppose I decided that it was up to me who I showered love on.

But in this week of all weeks, how can I be stingy with love? How dare I decide whether someone is worthy of love? It is, after all, the week of Passion. The week of the profoundest of all loves. The week when Love himself fulfilled his mission. The week he stretched out his arms, extending his love to every last one of us, undeserving as we are.

And so this week, as I look to Jesus’ ultimate act of love on the cross, I wonder what it would look like to love more like he does.

What if I loved like it was my job?
What if I loved till it spilled over the edges?
What if I loved without asking anything in return?
What if I loved believing it could put broken things together again?
What if I loved like it was my one assignment from Jesus?
(Because, of course, it is.)

I want to love the lovable and the less lovely. I want to love the people who are easy to love and the ones who are hard to love. I want to love, period. Even when it’s weird, or gross, or elusive.

 

Leave a Comment Filed Under: Love Tagged With: 1 Corinthians 13, 30 Rock, Easter, Jesus, Liz Lemon, Love, Passion
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April 14, 2014

Announcing the Winner of the Journal!

journalThanks to everyone who participated in our conversation about writing here.

Congratulations to commenter #2 . . . Holly! You are the winner of the red journal!

{Holly, I’ll send you a separate message about getting the journal to you.}

Love. Fall in love and stay in love. Write only what you love, and love what you write. The word is love. You have to get up in the morning and write something you love, something to live for.

Ray Bradbury

 

1 Comment Filed Under: Contest Winners Tagged With: contest, giveaway, journal, Ray Bradbury, Writing
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April 9, 2014

Virtual Book Club Reminder

the_light_between_the_oceansJust a reminder: We’re reading The Light between Oceans for this month’s book club. We’ll be discussing it on April 29, and I’d love to have you join us. No, who am I kidding–I’m so dying to talk about about this book that I practically need duct tape to keep my mouth shut about it until then!

{Warning: This book may cause emotions!}

See more about the book and the book club here.

Leave a Comment Filed Under: Book Club
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April 8, 2014

10 Ways to Tell You’re a Writer

writers; StephanieRische.comI’m heading to the Festival of Festival of Faith and Writing later this week, which is essentially a three-day binge on books and writing. I always come back feeling refreshed and reminded why I’m in love with words. In anticipation of the festival, here’s my list of signs that you’re a writer.

***

  • A writer is someone who quilts words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs, paragraphs into stories, and stories into something that will keep us warm at night.
  • A writer is someone who delights in finding precisely the right word at the right time . . . with the right word count.
  • A writer is someone who hears the siren call of laundry and Facebook and Netflix but somehow manages to keep rear in chair long enough to string some words together.
  • A writer is someone who wakes up in the middle of the night scrambling for a pen to capture those nocturnal wisps of stories.
  • A writer is someone who kills her darlings (but marks their graves in case they can be brought back to life one day).
  • A writer is someone who notices the little things other people miss. The gunmetal-gray of an April sky. The smell of new grass in spring. The old woman in the shadows with a story to tell.
  • A writer is someone who slows down time to help the rest of us pay attention.
  • A writer is someone who knows that words don’t appear magically out of thin air; they come out one idea, one keystroke, one drop of blood at a time.
  • A writer is someone who believes that words have the power to start a conversation, build a bridge, and remind us that we’re not alone.
  • A writer is someone who believes that words have the power to change the world, or maybe just one person. And that maybe that’s the same thing.writing journal made in Thailand; StephanieRische.com

In honor of writers everywhere, I’m giving away a writing journal today. It was made in Thailand by precious women who are trying to get on their feet again after being exploited and trafficked. You can find out more about Women at Risk’s ministry here, and you can find more products like this journal here.

To be eligible to win this journal, simply answer this question: What do you think makes someone a writer? How have words made an impact in your life?

15 Comments Filed Under: Writing Tagged With: books, Festival of Faith and Writing, free, giveaway, Literature, writers, Writing
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April 4, 2014

The Mystery of Grace

I’m cited to offer another FREE PRINTABLE with one of my favorite quotes about grace. Simply save the image to your computer and print. Image is 8×10 and ready to frame. (Special thanks to Sarah Parisi for the lovely photography and design!)

mystery_of_grace

Leave a Comment Filed Under: Printables Tagged With: Anne Lamott, Faith, Grace, mystery, quotes
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April 1, 2014

The Yoke’s on Him

I am weary. Is anyone with me?rest

The laundry is piling up. The sink is full of dirty dishes. The work deadlines are looming. My to-do list is spilling off the page. The technology that promised to make my life easier has just added more items to my list. Oh, and apparently dinner is a thing again today.

Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Jesus’ words about how our souls can find rest in him:

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

—Matthew 11:29

As hopeful as that sounds—rest for my soul!—I don’t entirely get it. Isn’t a yoke a symbol of work, not rest? I picture the oxen working the field with that wooden bar across their backs. If I wanted to paint a picture of rest, I’d describe a hammock gently swinging between two trees or a lounge chair on a tropical beach. Somehow the image of oxen doing heavy plowing doesn’t seem to me like the picture of soul-rest.

But recently I attended a conference by Lysa TerKeurst, who described what Jesus’ audience would have understood when he described this scene. Apparently when Jesus said “learn from me” in this context, he was referring to the process where a young, untrained ox would learn to pull a load from a more experienced animal. They shared a yoke so the younger ox could get a feel for what it felt like to pull, but the entire burden was placed on the older ox. Then the two oxen would walk together, side by side, until the young animal gradually grew stronger.

And so it is for us. Soul rest doesn’t mean we escape our reality and our responsibilities. God doesn’t give us a free pass from the things we’ve been called to do. But it does mean he carries the weight for us—the burden is on him. Our job is to walk closely with him, right by his side. It means we are never alone as we carry out the big and small tasks he asks us to do.

There may not be fewer loads of laundry. The dirty dishes may not go away. But maybe I can do these tasks with joy, knowing he’s standing right beside me at the sink, in the laundry room. Maybe my to-do list will seem less daunting, knowing that he’s helping me task by task, day by day.

My burden may not be smaller. But someone stronger is walking through it right beside me. And he’s the one doing all the heavy lifting.

2 Comments Filed Under: Faith Tagged With: Bible, burden, Christian, Jesus, Lysa TerKeurst, rest
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