Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

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

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!

Laughing at Our Stories

girls morning

Confession: I’m a recovering serious person. I used to take things uber-seriously. (Sometimes I still do, but I’m getting serious about lightening up.) I took my failures seriously. I took God seriously. And most of all, I took myself seriously. And while it’s certainly important to give our best effort to our work, our relationships, and our faith, I think sometimes the best thing we can do is laugh.

I think God himself has a sense of humor . . . not a twisted, sardonic sense of humor, but a delightful, belly-laughing kind. And I’m convinced that while he cares about my problems, sometimes he pats me on the head and says, “Oh, child, try to lighten up a little. Someday this isn’t going to seem like The End of the World. I promise, one day you’ll be able to laugh about this.”

Laughter doesn’t always come easily, but it may be a discipline every bit as much as prayer and study. In fact, sometimes laughter is the most spiritual thing we can do. Laughter is one of the best ways to unburden our souls and ease the load of another.

Laughter is carbonated holiness.
Anne Lamott

Over the course of my eight flopped blind dates, I did my share of tear-shedding, especially when I felt rejected or when I wondered if God would ever answer my longing for someone to share life with. But I learned something else too: sometimes it was okay—healthy, even—to laugh. The best thing I could do for my soul in those moments of embarrassment and/or disappointment was to embrace my story, quirks and pitfalls and all, and laugh.

So now I’d love to hear from you. What’s YOUR date story that you can laugh about now, in retrospect? Here’s an added challenge: see if you can share your story in 20 words or less.

Here are a few examples to get you started. (Full stories included in my book!)

  • Got a theological grilling from the guy before he’d progress to date #2. Eschatology + Caesar wrap = indigestion.
  • Off-duty limo driver made me sit in the backseat. Had our first conversation through the rearview mirror.

Okay, your turn! I’ll give away a free copy of my book to someone who shares their story!

Bonus: If you’d like to share your stories in person (or hear other people’s stories), please join us for a Girls’ Morning Out at Prairie Path Books in Wheaton. There will be coffee, chocolate, stories, and laughs . . . plus free giveaways! Hope you can join us!

Thank You for the Book-Love!

I’m supposed to be the one with the words, seeing as how I’m a writer and all. But I can’t quite seem to find the words for this post today. I want to say thank you, but that doesn’t seem adequate for the gratitude that’s overflowing to the point that it’s liable to come out my ears at some point. book signing 3

So I’ll do my best here, and please forgive me for not doing justice to the occasion. Thank you to each person who was at my book signing this weekend and to those of you who were supporting me from a distance.

The nice folks at Barnes & Noble assured me that we’d have more than enough chairs and books, but they had clearly never seen the likes of my people. You all are amazing—thank you for showing up and showering me with so much love (and for clearing out all the books in this zip code). If you are one of the people who didn’t get a copy, let me know and I’d be honored to sign one for you another time.

book signing 1It was incredible to look up from my reading and see people from so many corners of my life . . . college friends, work friends, book club friends, old friends, new friends, aunts and uncles, my supportive parents, my amazing husband (who even coordinated his outfit to match mine), and kind strangers who probably couldn’t concentrate on their shopping above all the racket.

At one point I looked up to see my 94-year-old grandmother holding my one-month-old nephew, and it was all I could do to hold myself together. (While neither of them may be the exact demographic I was targeting, I was amazed to be surrounded by multiple generations of love and support.)

So thanks to all of you for helping launch this book into the world. I love you all!

Launches and Other Squeamish Things

They call it a book launch, and launch seems to be the right word. I feel a littleB&N like a baby bird who was quite comfy in her nest and who, come to think of it, is actually a little afraid of heights. But birds aren’t supposed to stay hunkered in their nests, and stories aren’t supposed to stay locked inside people’s heads. So ready or not, it’s time to launch this book into the world.

I have to admit this process comes with trepidation, because I don’t want this to be about me. As I wrote this book, I pictured one precious person reading it, hoping it would connect with them. I want every page to say, “You are not alone in this. It’s okay to hope again. And God loves you more than you can imagine.”

I would be honored if my book could come alongside you as a friend for this part of your journey, whatever journey you’re on, and wherever your journey takes you.

And if that requires a little squeamishness for me as I teeter on the edge of the nest, I’m willing to do it.

Squeamish Thing #1: My life is literally an open book.

I will be at the Barnes and Noble in Geneva Commons tomorrow (Saturday, February 6) at 2:00 p.m. I’ll be doing a reading, answering questions, and introducing some of the real behind-the-scenes heroes of the book.

Squeamish Thing #2: There is no editing on the air.

I was interviewed on the Debbie Chavez Show earlier this week. Here’s what I learned about live radio along the way:

  1. Always have water on hand. Editors/writers don’t do a lot of talking in a given day, so after 45 minutes of chatting, I felt like I’d just hiked the Sahara.
  2. Wear a sweatband. I do realize sweatbands went the way of double-layered socks in the ’80s, but I should have worn one anyway. Nothing like talking about your dating life on the air to make you a little clammy.
  3. You can edit books, but not airwaves. I’m pretty sure I got myself tongue tied on more than one occasion, but unlike words on the screen, there’s no delete key on the radio!

If you missed the interview and would like to hear it, mishaps and all, you can listen to Debbie’s show online.

Squeamish Thing #3: Seeing a cartoon version of yourself!

The kind folks at Tyndale House created a charming trailer for my book. I won’t tell you how many takes were required for my voiceover, but let’s just say I don’t think acting is in my near future.

Thanks to the creative team that made the I Was Blind (Dating), But Now I See trailer!

Hope to see you Saturday, whether in person or online!

What’s Your Story?

booksI have a secret to tell you about stories. Please don’t tell my publisher, though, because this could really wreak havoc on the publishing world. Here it is: We all have the same story.

Yes, the details are different in every person’s story. And we all have our own setting and characters and timeline. But the truth is, our basic plot is the same: We all flub up this thing we call life. And we all find ourselves in desperate need of God’s grace.

The backdrop of my book is that treacherous pastime we call dating. For me, the thing that broke me and brought me flat on my face was a season of singleness that stretched on much longer than I anticipated. That’s where God showed up and revealed his grace and love to me in ways beyond my wildest imaginings.

But as I’ve listened to your stories, I’ve noticed something. Although the specifics of your story may be different from mine, our gracious God is still the same. And he tends to reveal himself in similar ways, even if the details are different.

  • Maybe you’re not waiting for a husband, but you’re waiting for something else that is breaking your heart. Maybe you’re waiting for a job or a baby or a prodigal or healing. And God seems silent.
  • Maybe you, too, have one prayer that keeps tripping you up.
  • Maybe you, too, have had moments when it feels too dangerous to keep hoping.
  • Maybe you, too, have a desire for something that doesn’t seem any closer to happening than it was a year ago.
  • Maybe you, too, feel stuck when everyone around you seems to be moving on with their life.
  • Maybe you, too, know what it’s like to be lonely, afraid, or invisible.
  • Maybe you, too, have wondered where God is in the midst of your pain.

My book isn’t just about blind dates or being single; it’s about being knocked over by the love and grace of God. And that love and grace are available no matter what circumstance you’re facing.

So I’d like to hear from you. When has God shown up in an unexpected way for you? When have you been amazed by his grace, hemmed in by his love? I would be honored to hear your story.

Write your comment below, and I will give away a free book to one commenter!

How a Book Cover Is Born

Blind Dating

I’ve heard that it takes a village to raise a child. I don’t know about that, but in the past year I have learned this: it certainly takes a village to make a book.

I’m thrilled to be sharing something exciting with you today: the cover for my memoir, I Was Blind (Dating), but Now I See!

Since I work in book publishing, I have an inside peek into some of things that happen to turn a bunch of typed-up words into something you can hold in your hands. But until it was my own book, I don’t think I had a true appreciation for the creativity, teamwork, and sheer hard work that go into making that a reality.

I have been amazed and grateful for all the good people at Tyndale who have taken the humble Word document I gave them and metamorphosed it into something lovely—with a charming illustration on the front, pretty fonts, little spots of shiny foil, a texture-y cover, and nice paper.

There are so many people to thank for their role in the whole process (please check out the acknowledgments at the back of the book!), but today I want to give you a sneak peek into how my amazing designer, Jackie, created the cover for the book.

First, my book team sent me a survey about my vision for the cover. Alas, I have practically zero skills when it comes to all things design-related, so I threw around a lot of words to describe what I wanted it to feel like. Fortunately Jackie was able to translate my thousand words into a single picture, and she captured the exact tone I was looking for. The truth is, I didn’t know what I was hoping the cover would look like until I saw it.

Here’s how Jackie came up with the design. First, she read the manuscript. Then she and a handful of other designers brainstormed cover possibilities and sketched them out. After all the designers gave feedback, they narrowed it down to their top three and presented them to the book team. Then the book team chose their favorite (which just so happens to be my favorite too).

Once the cover direction was chosen, Jackie found an illustrator to do the sketch. This will give you an idea of how much attention she pays to detail: she actually sent the illustrator a photo of me so the sketch would be as accurate as possible. (I should note it’s not entirely accurate, however, because I could only dream that my hair would look so good in real life.) She even gave the illustrator suggestions about what the guys might look like based on the descriptions in the book. (For all your former blind dates out there, please note that the silhouette format will protect your identity, so there’s no need to contact your lawyer.)

Credit also goes the talented Sarah Parisi, who created StephanieRische.com and my logo, which serves as the byline on the cover. She’s also a gifted photographer, and she took the picture of me on the back cover. I’m grateful for her creative eye and expertise that helped launch this adventure in earnest two years ago.

If you would like to see the beautiful cover in person, you can order it online, or you can come to a book signing on Saturday, February 6, at 2:00 at the Barnes and Noble in Geneva Commons. (I will be the one up front wondering how this introvert found herself reading mortifying clips about her dating life aloud in a public place.)

Friday Favorites for January

friday_favorites_header1Happy Friday, everyone! Here are a few of my recent favorite things. Enjoy!

For anyone who reads into their text messages . . .

This is bad news for punctuation. Apparently periods are now considered rude. Study Shows That Ending Your Texts with a Period Is Terrible

For any word lovers out there . . .

Perhaps you’ll be as outraged by this as I am. The Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year is . . . not a word?! Oxford Dictionaries Word of the Year

For anyone who’s nostalgic for the books they loved as a kid . . .

This delightful post includes recipes inspired by your favorite children’s book, from James and the Giant Peach to How to Eat Fried Worms. Kids’ Book Recipes

For anyone who has been at a loss for words with God . . .

This is a beautiful, honest piece by someone who found a way, in the midst of depression and silence, to communicate her pain to God. When Words Fail

For anyone who wants this year to look different from last year . . .

A thoughtful post by a single woman that starts out with this line: “I want to be engaged this year.” I Should Be Engaged

What Nobody Tells You about Epiphany

candleEpiphany. I learned the word from Mr. Heagney, my English teacher, two decades ago, and I’ve been smitten with it ever since. Not only does it dance off the tongue nicely, but the meaning itself is magical: a sudden illuminating discovery or idea; a revelation; the moment the proverbial lightbulb goes on.

Epiphany is a remarkable day on the church calendar too: the holiday marking the revelation of God’s Son to the Magi. This was one of God’s brightest ideas ever: Heaven breaking through to earth. Darkness being trounced by starlight. Kings bowing down before the true King. Hope busting through in the most glorious way.

I long for epiphanies myself. I yearn for the lightbulb to go on, for my fuzzy thinking to clear. I’m desperate for that creative idea, or for the key that will unlock my confusion or doubt or fear. I want to see a star from the east and drop everything to follow. I want a sign.

I’ve had a few moments like that in my life. Micro-revelations, perhaps, but glimpses of the divine nevertheless. Yet those moments are rare. Most days there are no stars in the night sky, no signs, no epiphanies. Most days I’m just treading along a dark path, half-hoping, half-praying that I’m headed in the right direction.

What they don’t tell you about epiphanies is that the star doesn’t stay in the sky forever. After the Magi visited God Incarnate, they headed back to their own country, back to their ordinary lives. Maybe their hearts were irrevocably changed, but life went on.

So what does it look to live out Epiphany even when there’s no miracle at the moment, when the star has faded in the night sky?

That’s when it’s time to hold on, my friend. What you saw when you glimpsed the divine—it was real. What you felt in that moment when God touched your heart—it was valid. The words of hope you heard whispered in the middle of the night—they were true.

So keep believing in the epiphanies. Keep looking for them. They will come. But don’t depend on them. Because faith means holding on to the fact that heaven broke through earth, even after the star has dimmed and you have to go back to your ordinary life. Faith means remembering that miracles are true, even when it’s been some time since you witnessed one firsthand.

Faith means holding on to Epiphany even when there’s no sign. It’s choosing to light a candle when the starlight has faded.

Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.

Frederick Buechner

Baby Son

nativityI am on a double countdown ’til Christmas this year. My new baby niece or nephew is due any day, and the two calendars are racing. Which will make its debut first? Baby Jesus’ birthday, or the birth day of this new baby?

When my sister was little, she prepared for Christmas like it was her job. She convinced Dad to cut down the tip-top of a pine tree from the woods to put in her room, and Mom helped her string lights from her ceiling. By mid-December, Meghan’s room was a full-blown Santa’s workshop. She’d haul up every craft supply she could find and post a note on the door, with dramatic underlines: “TOP SECRET! Keep out.” She’d spend every waking moment the final weeks before Christmas making all manner of glittery cut-out snowflakes and construction-paper ornaments for the whole family.

This year Meghan is doing a different kind of preparation as the days tick down. She’s getting a room ready for the baby. She’s packing a go-bag for the hospital. She’s making weekly treks to the doctor, checking to make sure the baby is in position. She’s prepping two-year-old Addie to be a big sister (including the possibility that, despite Addie’s adamancy that’s it’s a girl, there’s a chance she may be getting a brother).

There is so much we don’t know about this baby. Besides the gender, we don’t know what this child will look like, what kind of personality is tucked into that curled-up body, what this little one will become someday, or how the world needs this child, specifically. And yet our hearts are full of anticipation. So much longing, so much joy over this tiny person, veiled in so much mystery.

And it occurs to me that Mary must have felt much the same. It’s funny, isn’t it, that some of the biggest miracles come to us in such small packages? I wonder why God would come so tiny, so unobtrusive, when He could have come in pomp and circumstance.

In church last weekend my husband played the song “Baby Son” by John Mark McMillan, and I couldn’t help but think of the baby son (or daughter) my family is waiting to meet. So much future, so much hope, packed into seven pounds of flesh.

We thought you’d come with a crown of gold
A string of pearls and a cashmere robe
We thought you’d clench an iron fist
And rain like fire on the politics

Would I have missed Him that first Christmas, I wonder? Would I have been so busy looking for a flashier miracle that I would have overlooked the ordinary mother and her baby? Would I have deigned to believe that God’s plan to save the world could start with something so small?

But without a sword, no armored guard
But common born in mother’s arms
The government now rests upon
The shoulders of this baby son

A field of daffodils begins with a single bulb. An avalanche starts with a tiny snowflake. A classic novel starts with a solitary word. An epic love story starts with a simple greeting. A person begins as a tiny baby.

And the hope for the world began with someone so small you could hold Him in your arms.

God delights in the small things, the ordinary things, the unexpected things. I always thought that was so everything would be unveiled at the right time and so all the prophecies would be fulfilled just so. But now I think there’s another reason too: because God knows we can only handle so much miracle at once. If He gave us the full-blown itinerary, we would melt into a puddle. And so He births some of His most beautiful, magnificent plans as small beginnings.

Have you no room inside your heart
The inn is full, the out is dark
Upon profane shines sacred sun
Not ashamed to be one of us

So I’m spending this season in anticipation, alongside Mary and Meghan. I find myself waiting . . . waiting for Meghan’s baby son (or daughter). And waiting for God’s own Baby Son, who came once and will come again.

Our hearts are ready. We are longing for you. We have made room. Please come!

God’s coming is always unforeseen, I think, and the reason, if I had to guess, is that if he gave us anything much in the way of advance warning, more often than not we would have made ourselves scarce long before he got there.
~Frederick Buechner