Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

The God of Surprises

This holy week I’ve been thinking a lot about how God has this knack for surprising us. He gives us whispers about his coming, but he doesn’t usually spell out the itinerary for us, like the exact whens and wheres and hows.

This is tricky for planners like me. I want to know how it’s all going to play out. I like to pretend that’s so I can be prepared, but at some level, it’s because I like to think I have some measure of control.

The truth is, this habit of God’s to surprise us is precisely what I need. Because how do you build faith if you have the entire roadmap laid out for you? Besides, I’m pretty sure that if God gave me the whole picture in advance, I’d curl up in a fetal position and never get out of bed. I’m only brave enough for one step at a time.

On Palm Sunday, Jesus fulfilled those ancient whispers about his entry into Jerusalem. But he didn’t come the way the people expected. He didn’t come like a king, on a white horse. He didn’t come with a sword, surrounded by a fierce army. Instead, he came humbly, on a donkey.

Jesus comes. He always comes. But he doesn’t always come in the way we expect.

Shortly before his death, Jesus said he would rebuild the Temple in a mere three days. The people were incredulous—how could he do such a massive construction project in such a short time? But sure enough, three days after his crucifixion, the temple of his body was raised to life again.

Jesus comes. He always comes. But he doesn’t always come in the way we expect.

This Easter, I want to crack my heart open to God’s surprises. I want to follow the clues about his coming; I want to listen for the whispers. But I don’t want to be so stuck in the way I imagine his arrival that I miss him when he comes. I want to be ready for him, even when the way he comes is different from what I’d choose, what I’d expect, what I’d plan.

I don’t know what you’re facing right now, but I have a hunch that you, too, are longing for Jesus to come. Longing for him to show up in your pain and your doubt and your confusion. Longing for him to move your stone away. Longing for him to bring life out of death.

Jesus comes. He always comes. May we be ready for him, even when he doesn’t come in the way we expect.

Backdoor Blessings

autumnSometimes God shows off when he’s answering your prayers. He comes straight through the front door—bold, undeniable, in your face.

You knock, and the door opens.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
Matthew 7:7

Other times you pound on the door of heaven—asking, begging, pleading for a miracle. You plant yourself on his doorstep, vowing not to budget until you get the answer you came for. You stay the night, alternating between shouting loud enough to wake the neighborhood and whispering your desperation through the keyhole.

He told you to knock, so you knock.

He told you to ask, so you ask.

For healing.
For a job.
For love.
For a child.
For a way out of the darkness.

And sometimes you get the storybook ending. The front door flings wide open. Prayers are answered. Miracles happen. Dreams are fulfilled. Hopes are quenched.

But there are other times when the front door remains firmly shut. Day after day passes, followed by night after silent night. Your knocking seems to go unheard—or unheeded. Before long your voice is hoarse and your arms lack the strength to even reach the door knocker.

Spent and prayerless, you slump on the front porch.

***

My friend Mary moved from the Midwest to Florida several years ago to become a full-time caregiver for her mother, who was suffering from dementia and could no longer live alone. She was glad to be able to help her mom after her mom had done the same for her, but she missed her job and her friends back home. The homesickness for the Midwest struck particularly in the fall. I wish I could see some fall colors, she thought wistfully one October day.

That evening, at the end of a long day of caring for her mother, their role reversal becoming more evident with each passing day, Mary took a rare moment to stand on the balcony. Before her eyes the sunset sky was filled with the colors of home—sugar-maple red, poplar yellow, feisty orange.

It wasn’t the beauty she’d been looking for, but it was beautiful. It was enough.

Sometimes God’s answers come through the back door.

He heals a soul instead of a body. He doesn’t remove the darkness; he reminds you he’s in it with you. He says no, but he says it in love. He sends a fall scene in the unexpected from of a sunset.

Whatever it is you are knocking about today, know that the blessing will come. The answer will come. But don’t forget to check the back door too.

When Love Is Pronounced “Donut”

donut

Did you know that sometimes people are actually saying “I love you,” even when like the words coming out of their mouths sound altogether different? It’s true. Case in point: Sometimes people try to form the word “love” and it comes out sounding like “donut.”

When I was a kid, we’d go to Washington State every summer to visit my grandparents. There were so many fun memories from those July days: picking raspberries in Grandpa’s garden, going waterskiing on the Columbia River, and playing endless games of shuffleboard in Grandma and Grandpa’s backyard.

But one of my favorite memories from those trips was waking up early to the heavenly smell of homemade donuts. Without fail, Grandma would get up before the crack of dawn so she could whip together the first batch. By the time everyone else woke up, the countertops were lined with doughy goodness: traditional circle donuts, donut holes, and donuts dusted with powdered sugar. By the time I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and ambled to the kitchen in all my pajamaed glory, Grandma had been on her feet for hours.

I’m not sure I could have articulated it then, but now I know that what she was saying with those donuts was “I love you.” If Gary Chapman ever adds a sixth love language to his classic book, I’m lobbying for it to be food. Because food is, without a doubt, the way Grandma communicates love.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to realize that love doesn’t have as narrow of a definition as I used to imagine. Maybe I’d watched one too many romantic comedies or Disney-fied fairy tales, but I used to have the notion that love was primarily a happily-ever-after sort of thing that’s found only on rare occasions. And I had the idea that if you loved someone, you probably had to make an eloquent speech about it.

But now I’m starting to realize that there is so much love all around, if only we can recognize it. And there are a lot of ways to express that love beyond the traditional “I love you.”

When your mom says, “Call me when you get home,” she’s really saying “I love you.”
When your dad says, “I can fix that for you,” he’s really saying “I love you.”
When your friend says, “Let’s get coffee,” she’s really saying “I love you.”
When God paints a sunrise for you just as you’re walking out the door, he’s really saying “I love you.”

And of course, when your grandma makes you donuts, she’s really saying “I love you.”

One of the greatest gifts of writing my memoir was getting to relive a chunk of my life and trace all the love that came in unexpected places. No, it didn’t come in the form of a husband and kids during that season of my life the way I’d planned. But even so, God was pouring out so much love onto me that it seeped out through every crack and crevice.

How often do we miss the love because it doesn’t come in the package we expect?

Today is National Donut Day, but I’d like to hereby proclaim it National Look-for-the-Love Day. So whatever form loves comes to you in today, whether via donuts or otherwise, I urge you to recognize it for what it is. Embrace the love, even when it comes in an unlikely package.

***

So what’s your story? When has love come to you in an unexpected way or from an unexpected source?

Share the love . . .

If you share this post, you will be eligible to win TWO Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards—one for you and one to share with someone you love.

Surprise Me!

addie_stephanie_rische_blog_authorI love going places with my sister where there is ordering of any sort involved. That’s because almost without fail, when she places her order, she drops the line “Surprise me” at some point in the conversation.

If she’s getting a cappuccino and the barista asks what flavor she’d like, Meghan will give her trademark dimpled grin and say, “Surprise me!” If she’s ordering a salad and is offered various dressing options, her response is the same: “Surprise me!” If I’m getting her something to drink out of Mom’s fridge, I can almost guarantee her refrain will echo once again: “Surprise me!”

I always stare at her, wide eyed. “What if you get something you don’t like?”

She just flashes a grin at me and shrugs. “That’s part of the fun of the surprise.”

Me, I’m a planner. I like to map it all out, write a script. I cling to the illusion of control. Truth be told, I’d rather do the surprising than the being surprised.

But this sister of mine, she lives with her arms wide open. She embraces life, holds out her hands to accept the surprises God has for her, just the way she does with her coffee.

So when the time approached for Meghan’s baby to born, I should have expected that this surprise-loving sister of mine would make room for as many surprises as possible.

“Girl or boy?” I asked over the phone, breathless, after her ultrasound.

addie_new_life_baby_stephanie_rische“We’re going to be surprised!” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

“What names are you thinking about?”

“We’re keeping it a surprise!”

And of course, the details of the birth itself were a surprise. Two days before her due date, Meghan went to the doctor. “You’re progressing right along,” he said. “It should be any day now.”

But the next day nothing happened. And nothing the next day either, or the day after, or the whole week after.

And then, ten days past her due date, just when the doctor was ready to speed things along, surprise! The baby decided to make a grand appearance. And the new mom and dad unwrapped their surprise package right there in their hospital room…a little gift of a girl named Addie Mae.

And when I first looked into the face of that sweet surprise, I wondered what other surprises God might have up his sleeve. What do I miss out on when I try to make the plan and script it all out myself?

stephanie_rische_with_baby_neiceThis little girl, this eight-pound bundle, she is teaching me already. Her life whispers, as soft as breathing, This is life! This is joy! This is a whole new world of divine surprises.

So here I am, God, with my eyes squeezed shut and my arms wide open. Surprise me.