Your Very Worst Day

April 2, 2015

Your Very Worst Day

We don’t like to go there, even in the realm of the hypothetical. But would you sit with me for a while in this brave, sacred space?

What’s your very worst day?

Maybe it’s already happened . . . a day permanently earmarked on the calendar of your heart. Every day of your life is now divided into before and after.

Or maybe it’s a day looming in the future . . . the day when the thing you dread most becomes reality.

On a week like this one, two thousand years ago, Jesus faced the worst possible 24 hours a human being could ever face.

He was stabbed in the back by someone close to him.
One of his best friends saved his own skin instead of sticking up for him.
Then, in his darkest hour, the rest of his friends deserted him.
His body was ravaged, and he was left to die.
He was rejected, despised, forsaken, betrayed. And utterly alone.

On that Holy Thursday, as he ate supper with his followers, he knew all of this lay ahead of him. He could see ahead to the horror of his very worst day. Yet as he headed to the Garden with his friends, he sang a hymn with them (Mark 14:26). It’s such a small line in the narrative, it’s easy to miss.

In the midst of all that had happened and all that was to come, he sang.

According to Jewish tradition, the Hallel was chanted during Passover, a collection of songs taken from Psalms 113-118. This means it’s likely that some of the last words on Jesus’ lips before he was arrested included these lines:

This is the Lord’s doing,
and it is wonderful to see.
This is the day the Lord has made.
We will rejoice and be glad in it.
—Psalm 118:23-24

As we sit with Jesus the Garden, it’s hard to escape the dichotomy. How could he find a way to praise amid the pain? How could he see the wonder in the anguish? How could he rejoice amid the drops of blood? How could he cling to the belief that on his very worst day, the Lord was doing something wonderful—something not just to endure but to be glad in?

And I wonder: Could I have sung that hymn on my very worst day? Or would I have choked on the words?

But Jesus sang, and that changes everything. Jesus’ worst day became the best day of all. And now we call it, without irony, Good Friday.

May the same be true for us. On our worst day, may we be found in the Garden singing, “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.”

March 31, 2015

Broken Things

“What’s the one thing you can give God that he didn’t give you first?”

The words reverberated in my heart, almost more riddle than question.

What did I have to give that wasn’t an overflow of his generosity and grace? All the good things in my life—daily bread, work for my hands, people to love, even my next breath—are gifts from him.

How could I possibly have something of my own to give back?

And then came the answer: my brokenness.

Such a wonder—that the King of universe, who deserves only the finest and the loveliest and the best, would accept something as messy and humiliating as my own brokenness. The God who could not be contained within the walls of the most splendid temple—that same God stoops to receive my cracked and wounded gift. And not just accept it, but yearn for it, delight in it.

The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God.
—Psalm 51:17

Scripture confounds me with its accounts of God’s tenderness toward broken things. When Jesus came into this world, he had every right to expect the best accommodations, the best company, the best service. Yet royalty though he was, he came humbly, seeking out every broken and beloved soul he could find.

In fact, he didn’t have much time for the people who had it all together; he looked for those with broken hearts, broken lives, broken reputations. He showered his love on people from broken families, people with broken bodies, people who have broken their promises.

God loves broken things.

And in perhaps the most beautiful display of his love for the broken, he offered his own body to be broken, so that we might be whole again (Luke 22:19).

If you are feeling broken today, take heart. Jesus himself knows what it is be broken, to live broken, to embrace brokenness. But he also knows how to put broken things back together again.

Holy Week is the place where all who are broken become whole.

Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory.
—1 Corinthians 15:43

March 27, 2015

Friday Favorites for March

Happy Friday! Here are a few of my favorites things lately. Hope you enjoy!

For anyone who celebrated National Grammar Day . . .

It was National Grammar Day earlier this month, and I found these grammar-themed haiku hilarious: 24 Haiku in Honor of National Grammar Day

For anyone who loves a theme party . . .

These literary-themed parties will hold you over amid the doldrums of March: 8 Literary Party Themes

For anyone who needs to be reminded of the power of what we say (and don’t say) . . .

When’s the last time you told someone you were proud of them? Good words about encouragement from Shauna Niequist: Use Your Words

For anyone who needs a laugh today . . .

In general, I’m not pro-vandalism. But these vandalized signs make wonder if I should reconsider: 33 Vandalized Signs

For anyone who is waiting for something . . .

Some wise words on waiting well from Nicole Eunice: “Is the difference between good and best usually only found in waiting?” Waiting Doesn’t Care How You Treat It

March 24, 2015

Real-Life Princesses

I recently had the privilege of being in a room full of 20-some little princesses. We had a princess party, where I got to don a tiara and read my book My Princesses Learn to Be Brave to a gaggle of girls decked out in fancy dresses.

After I read my book, they asked me questions about being author (one wide-eyed girl couldn’t believe the book-writing process took so long—she said she could make a book way faster than a year!). And best of all, we talked about what it means to be a real princess.

“How did you come up with the idea for the story?” one girl dressed like Elsa said.

I was happy she asked. Because while it’s fun to wear a pretty dress and embrace the wands and the sparkles, what I really want girls to know is this: it’s even more important to be beautiful on the inside. And while they may meet their Prince Charming one day, there’s a lot more to life than “happily ever after.”

As I looked around at those precious faces surrounding my reading chair, I desperately wanted them to know they are already loved—more than they could imagine or hope for. They are adored daughters of the King of Kings, which makes them the truest kind of princess. And this King delights in creating beauty in them—not only on the outside but in their very character.

I didn’t say all this to them in the moment (after all, there were pink-frosted cupcakes to be eaten and bookmarks to be decorated). But as these little princesses grow up, this is what I pray they’ll come to know, deep in their souls.

Being beautiful isn’t what you look like; it’s about who you are becoming on the inside.

You don’t need to go out looking for love; you are already loved beyond words, beyond comprehension.

You don’t ever have to wonder if you’re pretty enough or smart enough or good enough. You are God’s daughter, and in him, you are enough.

***

Note to Moms/Grandmas/Friends: If you’d like to host a princess party for the little princesses in your life, I’d be honored to come and read my book and answer questions. Have tiara, will travel!

March 17, 2015

An Irish Blessing

My grandmother, who claims some Irish blood herself, says that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Whether you’re Irish for real or Irish for a day, I hope these words from a famous Irishman will soak deep into your soul. They’re from Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, and I pray they will serve as a shield of armor across your heart, whatever the day ahead will hold.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
By Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

—St. Patrick’s Breastplate

March 13, 2015

10 Minutes with God: Necessary Endings

This is my last week to write the devotions for my church about the book of Acts. (See this post, this post, and this post for previous devos.) You can listen to it as a podcast here.)

***

When we think about an earthquake, we tend to think about this geological phenomenon from the outside: the amount of shaking it results in, the buildings it tears down, the deaths and damage it causes, the havoc it wreaks. But there’s another side of the story too: what’s happening under the surface of the ground.

Geologically speaking, an earthquake occurs when there is a sudden release of energy in the Earth’s crust that creates seismic waves. Although we’re unaware of it, the earth is constantly pulsing as the crust is being recycled. Some experts refer to these regular blows—which amount to hundreds a day—as the planet’s heartbeat.

When the pent-up energy within the earth becomes too great, the tectonic plates, which have been storing up elastic energy, release it in a large burst. When this happens, there is a rupture in the fault lines—an earthquake. As destructive as this process can be, the shift is actually necessary to keep supporting human life as we know it on this earth. The earth has to shift in order to remain stable and relieve pressure.

When it comes to human relationships, there are times when seismic shifts are necessary as well. The fallout can be painful at times, but God can use these relational earthquakes to move people to where they need to be.

When Paul and Barnabas had an unresolvable conflict in Acts, it was a relational tremor that pushed them in different directions. But there were upsides to this split. Without this division, John Mark and Silas might not have had an opportunity to rise to the occasion and use their gifts to serve God in the early church.

Silas was already a leader in the early church when Paul chose him to accompany him on his second mission. But when this split occurred, he was given the opportunity to speak to believers in a larger area of the known world. It was during this journey that he and Paul were imprisoned in Philippi, when an earthquake broke their chains and opened the prison door. Without the conflict between Paul and Barnabas, Silas likely would never have experienced such a miracle.

We don’t know why John Mark deserted Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey. But as a result of the split, Barnabas took John Mark to Cyprus with him. He gave him another chance—an opportunity to restore trust and redeem what had been lost on the previous trip.

As painful as endings are in the moment, good can come out of these final chapters. In his book Necessary Endings, Henry Cloud talks about how we need to listen when God is bringing us to an ending in our lives: “In the language of Ecclesiastes, are there situations in business or in life where you are trying to birth things that should be dying? Trying to heal something that should be killed off? Laughing at something that you should be weeping about? Embracing something (or someone) you should shun? Searching for an answer for something when it is time to give up? Continuing to try to love something or someone when it is time to talk about what you hate?”

It’s hard to say good-bye to people or things. But there are some things God intends to give us for a season, and we need the Holy Spirit’s wisdom to show us when that season is over. Henry Cloud goes on to say, “Without the ability to end things, people stay stuck, never becoming who they are meant to be, never accomplishing all that their talents and abilities should afford them.”

March 3, 2015

10 Minutes with God: The Joy of Inclusion

I’m excited to be writing the devotions for my church again this week! (See this post and this post for previous devos.) My favorite musician (aka Daniel Rische) wrote the musical intro and outro again this week. You can listen to the audio version here.)

This week I’m writing about Acts 15 and how our differences can bring us together.

***

When my husband, Daniel, and I were first dating, one of the characteristics about him that stood out to me immediately was the way he included other people. It’s as if he has a constant radar up for those around him who are on the fringes, who feel left out, who don’t quite fit in. He has a knack not just for acknowledging these individuals or showing kindness to them but also for integrating them with the rest of the group. With these gifts, it’s no wonder he has devoted his life to working with individuals with special needs—and no wonder that in some groups he’s known by the nickname “The Includer.”

Over the years, as I’ve witnessed Daniel interacting with people the rest of the world might shun or ignore, the thing that strikes me most is that while Daniel treats these individuals with compassion, he doesn’t view them with pity or condescension. He includes them not because he feels sorry for them but because he feels sorry for what the rest of us would miss out on if we were deprived of these individuals’ unique contributions.

He knows that every person has a role to play in creating a healthy community, and we can only be the unified body God created us to be when members of all backgrounds, abilities, and gifts are represented.

When the early church found themselves at a crossroads in terms of the Gentile question—could non-Jews be accepted as followers of Christ just as they were?—they faced a dilemma about what the membership dues would be to enter the church. To be part of the “in” group, would people have to show a proper pedigree, have the right external markings, and have the right background, the right kind of family, the right nationality?

After some discussion among the church leaders, and after they sought wisdom from the Holy Spirit, here was the decision they came to: that the Gentile believers should not be burdened with additional requirements (Acts 15:28).

The early church came to the same conclusion Daniel has come to, both in his job with special-needs students and in life: that much joy can be found in inclusion. When we bring together people who are different from one another, we experience a deeper, richer unity than we could experience from a group of people who are exactly alike.

What types of people might not feel welcome in our church (or in the church as a whole) if they walked in on a Sunday morning? What’s one way you could include someone who’s different from you and make that person feel welcome?

February 27, 2015

Happy Birthday, Blog (Plus a Free Giveaway!)

We are a people who mark occasions—not just on the day they happen but on subsequent years afterward. Birthdays. Death days. Anniversaries. Class reunions. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. The commemoration of special events. The day a war started and the day it ended.

And why is that, I wonder? Why don’t we just celebrate or mourn on that day, as the occasion calls for?

There’s something significant about an anniversary, I think. It puts a stake in the ground and lets us see where we are now, and where we’ve been. And this isn’t just nostalgia; God commands us to remember:

Remember the days of long ago; think about the generations past. Ask your father, and he will inform you. Inquire of your elders, and they will tell you.
—Deuteronomy 32:7

So why do we need to remember?

I think we need cues to remember because we’re so forward-focused that we forget the milestones from last month, last year, last decade. We’re so busy forging ahead that we forget the things (the good ones and the hard ones) that made us who we are today. We need a reminder to slow down, to look in the rearview mirror, to thank God for where we are and where we’ve come from.

I think there’s another reason God instructs us to remember. It’s because the emotions of the thing we’re recalling are often too big to be absorbed in a single day. We can’t take in all the joy required when a person is born, so we spread it out and mark that day on each ensuing year. We can’t take in the enormity of a loss on the day we lose someone we love, so we come back and revisit it later. We can’t do justice to all that being a mother stands for on that one day of labor, so we set aside a day to commemorate motherhood every year.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of this website, StephanieRische.com, and it’s gotten me thinking about remembering in general and about staking the mile markers of God’s faithfulness.

I’ve been thinking about how we’re pretty good at remembering the big anniversaries, but we often overlook the less obvious but no less significant ones. I want to do a better a job remembering, savoring, taking note, saying thank you. I want to be aware of God is doing in the moment, and I want to be intentional about thanking him afterward.

I have a lot of remembering to do, but here’s a small start. This month marks five years since I’ve been praying with my Tuesday prayer buddy. Just a few weeks ago marks the day four years ago when the man of my dreams got down on one knee on the cold pavement and asked me to marry him. Last week marks the day my little niece was baptized and charmed the whole congregation with her big eyes and fluffy white gown. This February marks my college roommate’s birthday—the 18^th one I’ve celebrated with her.

I don’t want to take these mini-celebrations for granted. I want to come to God in gratitude for all of them—for his faithfulness in the moment they happened and for all they mean to me now.

***

What about you? What small celebrations do you want to commemorate? I’d love to hear about them.

In honor of my blog birthday, I’m giving away two gifts to two new subscribers! Type in your email address on the right to be eligible for a $10 Starbucks gift card or a $10 Barnes & Noble gift card. I’ll choose two randomly selected commenters on Wednesday.

February 24, 2015

10 Minutes with God

I’m excited to be writing the devotions for my church again this week! (See this post for last week’s devos.) My favorite musician (aka Daniel Rische) wrote a new musical interlude for this week, and if you want to check it out, you can listen to the audio version here.)

This week I’m writing about Acts 14 and how success can bring opposition.

***

We had just finished eating lunch with a pastor from a country in Southeast Asia. He had come to the States for a few weeks to give an update on the small but vibrant church that met in the basement of his home. In his country, it was illegal to convert from another religion to Christianity, and he and his fellow church members had faced the kind of persecution that seems unimaginable to most of us in the West. One member of their congregation had lost his job due to religious discrimination. One woman had been disowned by her family. Another man had been thrown into jail without cause.

When he had finished giving us the update about his church, one of my friends asked, “Pastor, how can we pray for you?”

The room was filled with palpable silence as we awaited his answer. Would he ask us to pray for religious freedom in his country or an overthrow of the current government? Would he request safety and physical protection for his family? Would he ask for financial provision for his church? Would he ask for the means to move to a safer place?

“Actually,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “my church prays for you.”

“For us?” We were incredulous.

“Yes, for the church in America.”

No one could formulate a response. We just stared at him.

“We are worried for you in America,” he said. “You are so comfortable here. If you do not face trials because of Jesus, how will your faith be proven true? How will you grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ?”

Here I’d been wondering how his faith could stand up under so many trials, and he was wondering how my faith could stand up without them. Clearly I had a lot to learn about suffering for Jesus.

Reading the accounts of the early church in the book of Acts can feel like a cross-cultural experience for us—it turns our preconceived notions about faith upside down. As Western Christians, it’s easy to think that if we’re facing opposition, we must be doing something wrong. If we are criticized, we wonder if it’s time to throw in the towel. If we run into conflict, we decide maybe this wasn’t God’s will. If we feel the pangs of doubt and discouragement, we figure this must not have been our calling after all.

But the book of Acts lets us in on a secret American culture will never tell us: success doesn’t automatically lead to smooth sailing. In fact, sometimes success leads to opposition.

When Paul and Barnabas embarked on their missionary journey, the very fact that people were listening and responding to the message of the gospel was what got them in trouble. If they’d just been coasting along, not making waves, the Jewish leaders no doubt would have left them alone. It was only because God was at work through them that they found their lives in danger: “At Iconium Paul and Barnabas went as usual into the Jewish synagogue. There they spoke so effectively that a great number of Jews and Gentiles believed. But the Jews who refused to believe stirred up the Gentiles and poisoned their minds against the brothers” (Acts 14:1-2).

As difficult as this opposition was, there were some unexpected upsides to this time of hardship: it deepened their reliance on God and solidified their relationship with other, giving them an even more unified bond in Christ.

The same is true for us. For all that opposition is uncomfortable and frightening, it unites with the God who can protect us in the midst of trials and with our brothers and sisters, who walk through it with us.

February 20, 2015

Friday Favorites

For book lovers who love coffee and coffee lovers who love books . . .

These descriptions of what famous authors would do when ordering coffee is one of the funniest things I’ve read in a long time. They’re all great, but I especially liked this one: “Charlotte Brontë goes up to the counter for a cup of tea and Reader, she orders it!” If Authors Ordered at Starbucks

For anyone who’s still recovering from Valentine’s Day . . .

Great thoughts about love and marriage from Beth Moore. A Valentines Post: I Believe and I Don’t

For word geeks . . .

Although there are at least a million words in the English language, the 100 most common words account for over half of the words we use. This cool site lets you type in a word and find out its ranking. The Long Tail of the English Language

For anyone who is wondering if the little things they do matter . . .

This is a beautiful post by Christie Purifoy about the unexpected hospitality God gives to us. “I think that the very quietest hospitality might just be the hospitality God extends to each of us.” Love Prepared Table

For anyone who longs for real connection in their life . . .

I love it when worlds collide, and this is a beautiful collision: on this podcast my friend from college interviews an author I work with. How cool is that? Sophie Hudson talks about her new book, Home Is Where My People Are, and they discuss good stuff like female friendship, what makes a place home, and the journey of faith for the “good girl.” God Centered Mom