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Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

April 1, 2016

Book Discussion: A Man Called Ove

A Man Called OveIf I were to pick a handful of words to describe this book, I’d have to go with quirky, endearing, and hopeful. And above all, charming. Which, when you come to think of it, are not exactly the words you might expect for a book that opens with an old man making plans to commit suicide. Despite the premise, this book had some delightfully humorous moments, and I had that pleasant kind of lump in my throat throughout the whole thing. I fell in love with curmudgeonly old Ove, and it was one of those books I couldn’t bear to finish because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet.

Discussion #1: Are you going to be a crotchety old man (or woman) someday?

Ove stuck to his routines, he liked what he liked, he resisted modern advances, and he balked at change.

This was a world where one became outdated before one’s time was up. An entire country standing up and applauding the fact that no one was capable of doing anything properly anymore. The unreserved celebration of mediocrity. No one could change tires. Install a dimmer switch. Lay some tiles. Plaster a wall. File their own taxes. These were all forms of knowledge that had lost their relevance.

Do you know anyone like Ove? In what ways are you like him (or do you see yourself becoming like him in the future)?

Discussion #2: Everyone has a story.

I appreciate the way Ove’s story unfolds gradually throughout the book, and we come to realize why he is the way he is—and that underneath his gruff exterior, he actually has a kind heart.

All people at root are time optimists. We always think there’s enough time to do things with other people. Time to say things to them. And then something happens and then we stand there holding on to words like “if.”

Do you know anyone who seems tough on the outside but is actually a softie? What does this book say to you about savoring the moments we have with the ones we love?

Discussion #3: Every life has value.

Ove is practical guy—he loves things that are useful and have a specific purpose. But when he loses his wife and his job, he finds himself feeling useless and wondering if there’s any purpose left for him.

What would you say to someone like Ove who didn’t think they had a reason for living anymore?

Discussion #4: On loving well—and grieving well.

Ove eventually finds community—or more accurately, community finds him—in the form of his quirky band of neighbors and a pesky cat that refuses to go away. And in finding community, he starts to process his loss and find purpose again.

Sorrow is unreliable in that way. When people don’t share it there’s a good chance that it will drive them apart instead.

I think this is one of the loveliest passages about old love I’ve ever read:

“To love someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love in everything new, you wonder every morning that this is one’s own, as if they are afraid that someone will suddenly come tumbling through the door and say that there has been a serious mistake and that it simply was not meant to would live so fine. But as the years go by, the facade worn, the wood cracks here and there, and you start to love this house not so much for all the ways it is perfect in that for all the ways it is not. . . . That’s it, all the little secrets that make it your home.”

Rating

I would give this book five stars (out of five) for its rare blend of humor and profundity, for its vividly drawn characters, and for its insights into aging, death, and life.

How many stars would you give this book?

{Be sure to add your comment—I’m giving away a free book to one lucky commenter!}

4 Comments Filed Under: Book Club, book review Tagged With: A Man Called Ove, book club, book review, fiction, Frederick Backman, free book, giveaway, literature
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March 23, 2016

Wasted Love

If you had been alive during that first Easter, who would you have been?

Would you have been Peter, bold and brash, defending Jesus in the only way you knew how?

Would you have been John, quiet and steadfast in your heartbreak?

Would you have been one of the women who wiped Jesus’ brow on his agonizing climb to Golgotha, showing love even as your hopes crumbled?

Would you have been Thomas, asking for proof yet keeping a sliver of belief alive?

I’m not sure who I would have been. I like to think I’d cling to hope even before I could see how everything unfolded, but I’m not sure. I’m much better at believing in miracles in retrospect, after I have the whole picture.

But it’s easy to identify the person I would like to be. I want to be Mary, who poured out her perfume on Jesus’ feet.

Just before he died, Jesus went to the home of his friends Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. And there, Mary enacted a most extravagant gesture of love. Here’s the story:

Mary took a twelve-ounce jar of expensive perfume made from essence of nard, and she anointed Jesus’ feet with it, wiping his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance.
John 12:3

You might think everyone around would have been impressed by Mary’s act of generosity. Instead, she was judged for being wasteful.

Judas Iscariot, the disciple who would soon betray [Jesus], said, “That perfume was worth a year’s wages. It should have been sold and the money given to the poor.”
John 12:4-5

According to some scholars, this jar of perfume was likely Mary’s dowry—what would have been given to a suitor to pay the bride price. The perfume was essentially her past and her future . . . and she lavished it on an uncredentialed rabbi from a backwoods town.

Jesus replied, “Leave her alone. She did this in preparation for my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
John 12:7-8

Sometimes I find myself assuming that Jesus would have been ultra-practical—frugal, even. “Waste not; want not”—that’s in the Bible somewhere, right? Somewhere near “God helps those who help themselves”?

But to my surprise, Jesus didn’t chastise Mary over the apparent wastefulness of her act. He didn’t tell her she should have focused on her savings account or reserved some her retirement. He didn’t even criticize her for not giving to charity.

He told her that her lavish devotion, her extravagant love, was beautiful.

And this Holy Week I wonder: What am I willing to “waste” on God and the people he’s given me to love?

Am I so concerned about being careful and judicious and economical that I fail to shower my love in unpractical ways?

What would it look like for us to show extravagant, “wasteful” love this week?

  • Maybe extravagant love looks like scrapping our to-do list and doing some leisurely Bible reading instead.
  • Maybe extravagant love looks like “wasting” the afternoon playing with your favorite little person, even if the proof isn’t captured on Facebook or Instagram.
  • Maybe extravagant love looks like doing something for someone who will never be able to pay you back or properly thank you.
  • Maybe extravagant love looks like “wasting” the morning by going on a walk and taking in the world God made.

Because here’s what I think—and I have a hunch Mary would agree: If it’s real love, it’s never wasted.

1 Comment Filed Under: Love, Seasons Tagged With: Easter, holy week, Lent, love
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March 17, 2016

The Other Irish Saint

Top o’ the morning to you! I hope that you are wearing green or drinking a Shamrock Shake or eating corned beef or doing whatever it is you do on a day when everyone is Irish.

So most of us have heard of Saint Patrick, but today I’d like to introduce you to a lesser-known Irish hero: a monk named Saint Dallan. You’ve probably never heard his name, but you just might know his work: he’s the author of the hymn “Be Thou My Vision.”

In the sixth century, a hundred or so years after Patrick landed in Ireland, Dallan dedicated his life to the Lord and to the people of his country. His given name was Eochaid, but most people called him Dallan, which meant “little blind one.”

That’s right. The man who wrote “Be Thou My Vision” was blind.

For generations, the Old Irish version of “Be Thou My Vision” was used as a prayer and chanted by monks throughout Ireland. It wasn’t until 1905 that the words were translated into English. The poem was set to music several years later, in 1912.

The simple yet profound lyrics of this song are just as relevant today as they were when they were penned some fourteen centuries ago:

Be Thou my vision,
O Lord of my heart.
Naught be all else to me,
Save that Thou art.

Almost five years ago, I walked down an aisle on a dewy August morning toward Daniel, grinning like a schoolboy in his gray striped suit, while a handful of our closest family and friends sang these words:

Thou my best thought,
By day or by night,
Waking or sleeping,
Thy presence my light.

The words seemed more fitting than other song we could find. As we entered into this covenant, this promise that was bigger than either one of us, we couldn’t see what lay ahead. We knew God had a plan to knit our stories together into one, but there was so much we couldn’t see. We had to cling to the belief that he would see us through the days and years ahead—that he would be our vision when we couldn’t see.

Be Thou my wisdom,
And thou my true word,
Thou ever with me,
And I with Thee Lord.

The truth is, even if we have eyes, we lack vision. In those moments when our dreams blind us or our trials cloud our ability to see or the darkness makes us lose our step, we don’t just need better vision. We need the Lord himself to be our vision.

Thou my great Father,
And I thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling,
And I with thee one.

Today I invite you to join me in praying the words of this blind monk:

Be Thou my vision at work.
Be Thou my vision at home.
Be Thou my vision in my relationships.
Be Thou my vision in my decisions.
Be Thou my vision in all I do today.
Amen.

And if you’re feeling especially festive, you can attempt the Old Irish version:

Rop tú mo baile, a Choimdiu cride:
ní ní nech aile acht Rí secht nime.

 

9 Comments Filed Under: Faith Tagged With: Be Thou My Vision, Ireland, marriage, Saint Patrick, saints, St. Patricks' Day
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March 9, 2016

The Truth about “Arriving”

The moment of disillusionment came crashing down sometime in September during my freshman year of college. I was sitting outside doing some reading for one of my classes when the revelation hit me like a Biology 101 textbook falling from the sky: I will never be the girl on the cover of the catalog!

Before that moment, I don’t think I even realized I harbored any such dreams. Starting my junior year of high school, I’d get mailing after mailing of coeds sprawled on a blanket under pines or yellow aspens (never doing any homework—just smiling perfect, gleaming smiles).

My realization that I would never be the catalog girl wasn’t about the way I looked or about the fact that my outfit didn’t come off the hanger at Gap or even that such handsome guys never sat on my red plaid blanket.

It was that I’d thought I’d somehow feel different once I arrived and became a college student.

As it turned out, I was still me.

It’s a phenomenon that has followed me my whole life. I figured that once I got engaged, I would suddenly feel glamorous and confident and perhaps even a little diva-like. And that once I got married, I’d instantly acquire all manner of wifely abilities, like, for example, being able to whip together a timely, healthy, and delicious dinner, or scrubbing the toilets on a regular basis.

But once again, I was just me, with a diamond solitaire on my finger, or just me, with a Mrs. in front of my name. It was a bit of a letdown to discover there’s no magic spell to transform you into a particular life stage. Instead, it turns out you just have to figure out how the role fits you, particularly. You don’t become someone else.

I recently discovered that the same thing is true when it comes to being an author. When I got my first copy of my book, I was elated to hold it in my hands. But to my surprise, I didn’t transform me into the persona of an author in that moment. The day I got the book, I finished my work day, as usual; commuted home amid much construction, as usual; and arrived home to discover I had no ideas for dinner, as usual. I’m quite certain that Louisa May Alcott and Agatha Christie had no such pedestrian problems.

While it’s a bit of a disappointment at first to discover that a new role doesn’t equate to becoming a new person, it’s ultimately a huge relief. It means that God doesn’t expect me to fit some mold I was never meant to fit into. I never have to step into shoes I wasn’t created to fill. He has millions of patterns of what “college student” or “wife” or “author” looks like, not some one-size-fits-all formula. And that’s ever so much more creative and freeing, for all of us.

  • It means you don’t have to be the girl in the college catalog.
  • You don’t have to be the woman at church who seems to have it all together.
  • You don’t have to be a Pinterest-perfect mom.
  • You don’t have to be your neighbor or your sister or your mom or your best friend or your online nemesis.

You just get to be you. And you get to figure out along the way what it looks like to be you as a wife, you as a mom, you as an employee, you as a leader, you as a follower of Christ.

You aren’t defined by your roles. God made you to be you, and that is a good thing.

***

I’d love to hear your story! Are there any roles in your life that have surprised you? Did you expect to feel different when you arrived at any of those anticipated life stages?

12 Comments Filed Under: Life, Writing Tagged With: author, identity, life stages, mother, roles, wife, writing
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March 1, 2016

We All Need an Editor

writing

When people hear I wrote a book after being an editor for over a dozen years, they often ask me: “So, since you’re an editor, you probably didn’t need much editing, right?”

WRONG.

Here’s the thing: I can be objective and incisive about other people’s stories, ruthlessly chopping out stories that need to be cut or pointing out the holes. But when it came to my own manuscript, my line of vision was clouded by blind spots. I was just too close to the content. It would have been bad enough if I were writing a novel, but the fact that I was writing about my life fuzzied my vision all the more.

What do you mean, I need to cut out that scene? It’s one of my favorite childhood memories! What do you mean, I have too many friends named Sarah, or that I’m the only person who thinks this is funny, or that this only makes sense within the confines of my own brain?

That’s why I’m so grateful for my wise and kindhearted editor, Kim. There came a point, after editing and re-editing my own manuscript ad nauseam, that I could no longer see what worked and what didn’t. She was able to see the potholes and road blocks in the manuscript, and she helped me pave the way so readers could ride through the pages smoothly. And she did it in such a nice way that the process wasn’t painful at all. It was—dare I say?—fun.

People tend to fear the editor’s red pen, but let’s be serious: Kim was making me look good. I’d rather get called out on my mistakes before the book goes to press and I find myself standing in my proverbial underwear. And there are also the unsung heroes of the editing process: the copyeditors. I’m so thankful for Sarah and Annette, who faithfully fixed my sloppy punctuation, noticed missing words, and identified my pet sayings (you mean I can’t use “just” four times in one paragraph?).

What I learned being on the other side of the editor’s pen is that writing is a lot like life. We strive away in our private world, trying to live out a life of faith. But as good as our intentions are, we all have glaring blind spots. There are areas we fall short, but we are so close to it that we don’t even recognize the problem. That’s where we need life-editors—people who will give us wise, kind accountability.

We were never meant to do life alone; we need friends who have our best interests at heart, friends who will gently and lovingly point out where we’re not living up to God’s best vision for us. And isn’t it much better to hear that news from someone who loves us than from the big, scary world?

And as much as we may fear the vulnerability required to open ourselves up to accountability, whether with our writing or with our lives, there’s something sacred about sharing that space with another person. When someone is invested enough to look over every word and comma you typed or listen to the details of your life, it’s kind of like stepping onto holy ground.

So I would like to encourage you to get your own editor today . . . to invite feedback into every area of your life, writing and otherwise. You will feel the burn, to be sure, but the end result is worth the fire.

As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.
Proverbs 27:17

Bonus: Despite the stellar, meticulous eyes on my book, we are all human. If you can find the typo in my book, I will give you a Starbucks gift card!

4 Comments Filed Under: Writing Tagged With: Accountability, copyediting, editor, vulnerability, writing
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February 24, 2016

Announcing the Giveaway Winners…

blind dating 2

Thanks to the creative team at Tyndale for making this lovely meme for my book! Incidentally (word nerd alert!), did you know that meme was initially short for mimeme? Clearly meme is catchier. (Thanks to Mrs. Ellcessor for getting me hooked on etymology.)

In other news, it has been fun to have so many giveaways lately! See if you are one of the lucky winners…

Congratulations to Tiffanie, who won a copy of I Was Blind (Dating), but Now I See! (Thanks for sharing your funny dating story, Tiffanie!)

Congratulations to Amanda, who won Aubrey Sampson’s book Overcomer!

And congratulations to Jenni, who won Kate Hurley’s book Cupid Is a Procrastinator!

(I will contact each of you privately about getting the book to you.)

I hope your day is filled with reminders of God’s grace all around you.

Leave a Comment Filed Under: Contest Winners, Giveaways Tagged With: Aubrey Sampson, blind dating, contest winner, free book, giveaway, Kate Hurley
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February 23, 2016

Seven Decades of Love

g-and-g-weddingMy grandparents just celebrated their 70th anniversary. I keep trying to wrap my brain around that number, but I can’t seem to. SEVENTY YEARS. When they got married, there was no Tupperware, no credit cards, no White-Out, no barcodes, no disposable diapers.

They’ve lived through a lot in these seven decades. They rejoiced when Grandpa made it back safely from World War II, and they got married as soon as possible, on a Tuesday morning. They had twelve children in the span of fourteen years. (Remember the part about no disposable diapers?!) They built a huge bench on one side of the kitchen table to accommodate their growing family and made do with a seemingly insurmountable person-to bathroom ratio.

They witnessed the birth of the next generation (their grandchildren) and now the next (their great-grandchildren). They marveled as family reunions numbered in the hundreds . . . and reached unprecedented decibels. They persevered after Grandpa’s stroke, moving into a place that required less upkeep.

Now Grandma and Grandpa have a daily routine of simple love: eating lunch together and then taking naps side by side in their reclining chairs. Grandpa sleeps a lot now and no longer talks much, but Grandma cheerfully carries the conversation.

One of my favorite stories about Grandma and Grandpa is how they got engaged. Grandpa was flying planes in Europe while Grandma spent Thanksgiving with Grandpa’s parents and brother. After dinner, Grandpa’s brother pulled out the ring on his little brother’s behalf, having gotten specific instructions on size, style, and cut. Grandpa may not have been there physically, but his love was. Their love tethered them across an ocean, across multiple time zones, across a war.

In some ways, it’s not so different now. Grandpa is there physically, but he’s not the strong, vibrant, intellectual man he used to be. Still, their love is no less present. Even now, their love tethers them across sickness, age, loss, and change.

When I wished Grandma a happy anniversary last week, she said, “Honey, we’re so blessed. We’ve had so many more happy years than hard years. I wish you and Daniel all the years and all the love we’ve had.”

In 1943, just a few years before my grandparents got married, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, wrote a letter to a young bride and groom from his prison cell in Nazi Germany. These were his words of counsel: “It is not your love that sustains the marriage, but from now on, the marriage that sustains your love.”

Daniel and I just celebrated our 5-year engagement anniversary. In some ways that seems so long—have we really known each other for half a decade? And then I think of Grandma and Grandpa and their seventy years, and I realize we are still so new at this. We don’t know what the future holds in the years ahead, but whatever comes, I pray for that tethering love . . . the kind that sustains through war and age and time. And I thank God because that love isn’t something we have to manufacture ourselves. It’s something that overflows from him.

Only 65 more years to go, my love! (But don’t do the math . . . )

3 Comments Filed Under: Love Tagged With: anniversary, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, faithfulness, love, marriage, World War II
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February 19, 2016

Friday Favorites for February

friday_favorites_header1

Happy Friday, everyone! Here are a few of my recent favorites that I wanted to share with you . . . plus an UnValentine’s book giveaway!

For anyone who thinks Valentine’s Day is overrated . . .

Kate Hurley’s book, Cupid Is a Procrastinator, is a breath of fresh air in the world of singles’ books. This isn’t a how-to-snag-a-mate book or an embrace-the-gift-of-singleness book; it’s more like a friend who knows how you’re feeling when you’re standing up in your third wedding or dreading another solo Valentine’s Day. I’m giving away a free copy of this book—just tell me about a less-than-stellar Valentine’s Day in the comments section! (If you don’t win, the ebook is on sale for $.99 the rest of February!) Cupid Is a Procrastinator

For anyone who appreciates longhand . . .

I’ve always loved the handwritten form over type, whether it’s class notes, letters, or even book writing. I thought it was just because I’m a Luddite, but it turns out there’s some science behind it. Handwriting Helps You Learn

For anyone who struggles with contentment . . .

Did you know there are times when it’s okay not to be content? This is a great list by Lina Abujamra. Don’t Be Content

For anyone who knows what the dark cloud of insecurity feels like . . .

Sharon Hodde Miller says, “In many cases, the answer to insecurity is not more affirmation or positive self-talk. Not even the Christian kind. Instead you need to look hard in the face of insecurity and ask what God might be crucifying.” The Great Teacher, Insecurity

Remember: write a comment for a chance to win Kate Hurley’s book!

1 Comment Filed Under: Friday Favorites Tagged With: contentment, free book, giveaway, handwriting, insecurity, Kate Hurley, Lina Abujamra, Valentine's Day
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February 18, 2016

Blind Dating and Your Myers Briggs Type

I have been a personality-type geek for a long time, and I’ve always wondered how your particular personality plays into your dating style. So I’m over the moon to be able to share this chart with you, showing how each personality type might respond to a blind date. (Disclaimer: Note that my last name is not Myers or Briggs, so please don’t hold either of them responsible if your description doesn’t match up to your own dating experiences.)

I’d love to hear what your personality type is and if this description fits you! (If you don’t know your personality type, you can take a Myers Briggs type quiz.)

 

Blind Dating Myers Briggs jpg

4 Comments Filed Under: Love Tagged With: blind date, blind dating, dating, Myers-Briggs, personality type
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February 16, 2016

Overcoming Shame

OvercomerI suppose it could be argued that every life stage opens the door for feelings of shame to flood in. When we hit middle school, we become uber-aware of how we measure up (or don’t) to our peers. When we’re in high school, our hearts open to shame over a myriad of things: how we perform in school, how we’re perceived by the opposite sex, how we look compared to the girl on the cover of Seventeen.

And shame, as it turns out, doesn’t graduate. When we get married, we come face-to-face with having someone see all the parts of us, even the parts we try to hide. When we become mothers, we wonder if we will pass on our insecurities to our daughters.

I could be wrong here, but there may be no place where shame is as rampant as in the dating world. There’s something about putting yourself out there and making yourself vulnerable in front of someone you’re trying to impress that seems to push all our shame buttons. Especially in the early stages of dating, it’s risky business. You are entrusting your heart to someone you barely know—someone who has the power to stomp on that tender heart.

Having been on more than my share of blind dates, I know well that feeling of shame that bubbles up when the guy you like doesn’t call you back for a second date. You can’t help but wonder what it is about you that isn’t good enough or likable enough.

I wish I’d had Aubrey Sampson’s book Overcomer during my dating years, but it’s one we all need as women, no matter our life stage. It offers a vulnerable, tender look into shame and how it affects us as women—and how it affects our relationships and our faith. Aubrey speaks words of truth to counteract the lies of culture and the lies of the enemy, and her words are balm to wounded souls.

Here is a sneak peek into Aubrey’s wonderful book:

You—with your specific body type, skin color, facial features, personality, gifts, and passions—are a unique and living reflection of God, designed to carry the image of his love to the world. You were made in his image, but more powerfully still, you were made to be his. You belong to God, not to shame.

Have you ever felt shame over something that wasn’t your fault? What helps you counteract shame . . . for yourself or your daughter or someone else you love?

Be sure to comment below . . . I’m giving away a free copy of Overcomer to one lucky commenter!

4 Comments Filed Under: Life Tagged With: Aubrey Sampson, giveaway, grace, Overcomer, shame, vulnerability
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