Afton Rorvik's Blog, page 11

The Gift of Vision

My sister-in-law and I wandered through IKEA recently and wound our way to the kitchen display section and an oh-so-comfortable dining room chair.

“That chair would work well in your dining room,” Marianne said.

“Really?”

“Yes. And the price is great.”

She had listened to me talk earlier that day of wanting chairs with padding for our linger-around-the-table dinners with family and friends. At our delicate age, we just need some cush.

I stared at the chair and just didn’t see what Marianne saw. My large oak table with these stuffed, gray and white chairs?

I have, however, learned to trust my sister-in-law’s visionary ideas. She has a knack for seeing how things go together, and she has a knack for taking something old and modifying it to make something elegant.

I don’t.

That might explain why my dining room looks the same today as it did when we moved in, with the exception of a few paint color changes.

All this chair discussion reminds me of some words I’ve been chewing on in my favorite book:

Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

(1 Corinthians 12: 12-20, NIV)

God wired each of us uniquely. He gave my sister-in-law the gift of vision. He gave me the gift of words. And yet I so often forget this and feel I have to be the “whole package.” Maybe you feel the same way.

“I really should learn to cook well some day.”

“I really should get on top of things in my house.”

“I really should have a vision for entertaining.”

Oh, the guilt.

What about a different approach? What about an approach that embraces our shortcomings and relies on the wisdom and gifts of others in the areas where we lack?          

What about emailing a friend who loves to cook and asking for advice?

What about listening to a sister-in-law with a vision for house projects?

What about taking notes from a mother-in-law who makes entertaining about the people not the place setting?

My prayer for myself and for you, Dear Reader, is that we not live as Lone Rangers, feeling we must do everything perfectly. May we instead recognize, celebrate, and depend on the gifts of others.

By the way, the chairs look great around the table. And they recently passed the linger-over-dinner test.

Obnoxious Joy, Part Two

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart

Where?

Down in my heart!

Where?

Down in my heart!

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart

Down in my heart to stay

And I’m so happy

So very happy

I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart

Down in my heart

And I’m so happy

So very happy

I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart.

Know that song? I remember singing it over and over during my early days as a believer in Jesus.

It did accurately describe my feelings related to accepting God’s gift of forgiveness, but it did not accurately describe my journey as a Christ-follower in a rough-and-tumble world.

Somehow I got it in my teenage head that living as a Christ-follower meant I should always have a smile on my face.  I think that came from verses like Philippians 4:4-5 (NLT): “Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice! Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do. Remember, the Lord is coming soon”

Okay, rejoice. Smile. Got it!

But what do I do with the seething, underground river of not-so-happy emotions within my soul?

In my teenage wisdom, I determined to ignore those emotions. After all, these emotions did not honor God. In fact, they certainly displeased him. Ah, SIN.

Really?

Are emotions, except joy (of course) sinful?

Certainly they can lead us to sin, to disobey God’s good laws. Certainly they have power.

One of my go-to sections of my favorite book is the Book of Psalms. In it, a shepherd turned king pours out his heart to God. I love the word pictures. And I love the raw emotion.

The Book of Psalms reads like a personal journal rather than a book of advice and encouragement (the book of Philippians). This book shows me the internal wiring of a man who loved God but still struggled with daily living in a very rough-and-tumble world.

Just read this from Psalm 35:11-16, NLT:

Malicious witnesses testify against me.
They accuse me of crimes I know nothing about.

They repay me evil for good.
I am sick with despair.

Yet when they were ill, I grieved for them.
I denied myself by fasting for them,
but my prayers returned unanswered.

I was sad, as though they were my friends or family,
as if I were grieving for my own mother.

But they are glad now that I am in trouble;
they gleefully join together against me.
I am attacked by people I don’t even know;
they slander me constantly.

They mock me and call me names; they snarl at me.
Don’t imagine David wrote those words while grinning from ear to ear, do you?

May I encourage you, even as encourage myself, to follow David’s pattern of journaling honestly about emotions? And may I also encourage you to turn that journaling into a prayer?

Confessing our “dark” emotions to ourselves and to God keeps them from festering and leading us into actions that would grieve our loving, seeing God. Let’s allow God to help us live emotionally healthy lives rather than plastering over the hard parts of life with smiley faces.

Remember with me these beautiful words written by David and found in Psalm 56:8, NLT: “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.”

God sees. God listens. God heals. And that we can celebrate with JOY.

Obnoxious Joy

“Joy is kinda obnoxious,” declared my young friend who had just seen Inside Out.

“Really? How can joy be obnoxious?”

And then I went to see the movie.

When Joy first appeared in the movie, I thought, Oh, she seems so nice, always rushing around and trying to keep things upbeat and keep fear, anger, sadness, and disgust minding their manners. And she tries so hard to keep everyone happy. What a noble character.

As the movie progressed, however, I started to feel exhausted watching Joy. Seriously? All that running to keep sadness at bay and keep a lid on anger’s fire? And all the physical and mental effort of juggling memories.

Hard work. Exhausting.

The more I watched Joy scurry about, the more I wanted to shout at her, “GIVE YOURSELF A DAY OFF. ASK YOURSELF SOME HARD QUESTIONS, WOMAN.”

Why do you think you are the ONLY one who can do all this memory-holding stuff?
When/how did you become the one with the job of keeping everyone else in line?
Who helps you when you can’t singlehandedly carry this weight of constant joy?
Why do you think you matter most?

Time to confess, here: I am Joy. Or at least I was until I wrestled with the hard questions I wanted to shout at Joy. I ran around trying to make everyone in my world try to feel happy. I carried the weight of making good, happy memories for my family. I worked hard to quench anger’s fire and to keep sadness at bay. And fear and disgust? I just tried hard to ignore them.

Didn’t work too well. Like Joy, I became a bit obnoxious. Just a bit too perky. And I certainly became exhausted. And depressed. Stuffing every emotion except joy just created a volcano deep within me. Eventually a volcano has to explode, or in my case, implode in the form of depression. Wish I’d learn that decades ago.

What about you? What do you think of Joy —or joy?

Seeing the Unseen

After a week that included two memorial services, my mind and heart have turned often toward heaven. I have remembered those last moments with Mom—moments I describe in the final chapter of Storm Sisters.

A beautiful smile covered her face, a face that had become frozen in a look of blankness for the past few days. And then, very, softly, she began to hum. Her entire face gradually lit up with an expression of utter joy as her eyes flew open one last time.

And then she took one last, raspy breath and stepped out of this world and into the next.

“Welcome to heaven,” I whispered as I kissed her one last time.

That glimpse of a world beyond this world still gives me comfort, especially this week as I said goodbye to two friends just a few years my senior.

Our friend Dave filled this world with kindness, integrity, and thoughtfulness all fueled by his big heart brimming over with love for Jesus. Our friend Ingrid spoke such wisdom into my life, wisdom that came from walking with Jesus through many years of challenge. In her thick German accent, she often reminded me, “Keep trusting God.”

Celebrating the lives and hearts of these two people this week reminds me to look beyond the daily to-do list, to look beyond what I can see, hear, touch, smell, or taste.

Join me this week, will you, in asking God to give us eyes to see beyond this world, to comprehend Him and the eternity He offers us through the death of His son?

Soul Care

“Our stomach growls when it’s empty. But we can’t see our soul. We don’t hear its cries of hunger. We may sense something is wrong, but we rarely slow down long enough to assess the pain of an aching heart.”

Sound like someone you know? Me too.

Those words come from my friend’s hot-off-the-press book, Soul Spa: 40 Days of Spiritual Renewal. In this book Sharla Fritz writes about all things related to the caring of souls.

Her goal?

“At this spa, you will learn to take care of the most important part of you.”

I decided to jump into this 40-day journey with Sharla. I sit in my favorite living room chair, pen in hand, and read a daily section. Then I answer the questions in the Soul Study section. I already (after two days) have much to ponder. And I have had a few good laughs on the way.

Thank you, Sharla, for pulling me back to think about the care of my soul. I so easily slip in to attending to the needs of now. And I so easily lose focus when it comes to nurturing my soul.

Want to join me on this journey? I have a few copies of Soul Spa that I would love to pass on. (Oh, I do love giving away good books!)

I encourage you, Dear Readers, to visit Sharla’s website: http://www.sharlafritz.com/. In celebration of her new book, she is offering a FREE tool: Soul Spa Kit: 59 Ideas for Creating Your Own Spiritual Retreat.

Sharla also has a beautiful Pinterest page: https://www.pinterest.com/sharlafritz/.

Sharla Fritz is a Christian author and speaker who weaves honest and humorous stories into life-changing Bible study. Author of four books including Soul Spa, Divine Design, Bless These Lips, and Divine Makeover, Sharla writes about God’s transforming grace. She is passionate about helping women take their next step of faith.

Book Giveaway!

I love promoting new books written by author friends. And I love sharing them with you.

Let me tell you about one I just read that takes place in the Appalachian Mountains just before Christmas in 1922.

In her new book, Zetta’s Dream: An Appalachian Coal Camp Novel, veteran author Sandra P. Aldrich skillfully sets the scene and develops characters who speak their mind in a distinctly Appalachian dialogue. Oh, and the descriptions of food. . . .

With two youngins in tow and another one stirring inside her, young Zetta leaves the family farm in Kentucky to join her husband, Asa, at the Golden Gate coal camp. Asa works deep underground there in treacherous conditions in order to earn the $400 he needs to pay off the farm. He assures Zetta they will only stay three months.

As she adjusts to life in a gritty coal city, Zetta wrestles with nightmares and anxiety and uses beans in a jar to count the days until she can return to the farm. Every morning Zetta prays, “Oh, Lord, please keep Asa safe.”

I drooled over the Appalachian cornbread, gingerbread cake, brown sugar sweets, hoe cakes, blackberry cobbler, and fresh greens and wild onions wilted down with a little hot bacon grease. Oh, my!

And I laughed at the feisty, speak-my-mind granny woman who befriends Zetta.

Zetta’s Dream makes a delightful summer read.

AND I have seven copies of the book to share with you, Dear Readers. Jump on it!

Contact me through my website: http://aftonrorvik.com/contact/

Or message me on my author Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Aftonrorvik/675391955878827?ref=hl

For those of you on Twitter, you can contact me @AftonRorvik: https://twitter.com/aftonrorvik

National Interdependence Day

Some of you read this when I published it a year ago, but I run it again this year because I find I need this reminder. Perhaps you do too.

 

So . . . we just celebrated Independence Day. Fireworks, picnics, lots of hoopla, and lots of red, white, and blue.  Maybe a little watermelon and a burger.

As I prepared to celebrate, my word-nerd self couldn’t help mulling over the meaning of the word, independent. And then, of course, I pulled out my dictionary. Yes, the hard cover copy of my Random House Webster’s College Dictionary.

independent adj. 1. Not influenced or controlled by others; thinking or acting for oneself.  2. Not depending or contingent upon something else. 3. Not relying on another for aid or support.

Lots of that word not. Kind of makes me feel sad. And lonely. Especially when contrasted with another adjective: interdependent.

interdependent adj. mutually dependent; depending on each other

That sounds more inviting, doesn’t it? Like calling a friend during a life-storm and hearing the words, “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

Perhaps we should start a national campaign to launch a new nationwide celebration day: Interdependence Day.

Are you in? 

Personal Pain on Social Media?

I hit a rough patch recently. We all do, right?

So how do we navigate these challenging times, these moments that take our breath away and make us feel weak and inadequate?

And, for those of us who maintain a social media presence, how do we talk or not talk about these moments in the public forum?

Sharing grief on social media can help navigate loss, or so say some experts.

http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/4784659

http://www.newsweek.com/parting-such-tweet-sorrow-245058

Both these articles talk about the power of connection social media can provide—an antidote to the isolation that grieving, struggling people often seek.

But how do we talk about our pain and sorrow on a social media without whining, without giving details that might hurt others, or without giving more information than people have time to read?

I chose to mention my rough patch in vague terms, and I also stated that I could not/should not share details.

Best approach? Not sure.

But I wanted to let readers (you!) know that my life contains struggle just as it also contains joy. No perfect life here.

I also wanted to protect myself and those I love by not saying things that would live forever on the Internet, long after this rough patch passes.

I also opted out of social media for a period in order to “circle the wagons” with a few close flesh-and-blood friends and gain perspective. And, in true introvert fashion, I needed long stretches of quiet to think, read, and pray.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for not asking for details. BUT thank you for being there.

“I’m praying.”

“Want to have lunch?”

“Be sure you aren’t isolating.”

One of you reminded me: “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
 they shall mount up with wings like eagles; 
they shall run and not be weary; 
they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31).

Thank you, Dear Readers, for hearing my pain and for drawing me back to God. Thank you for living as Storm Sisters.

Grateful!

Blogcation

I find I need a blogcation to refuel and find my words again. Thanks for understanding. Back in a few weeks.

Not Alone

Challenging week here. Maybe for you too. Pain in the eyes of people I love dearly.

My heart literally hurts.  

Through it all some lyrics of a song spin around in my brain: “I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of Angel Armies is always by my side.”

https://youtu.be/qOkImV2cJDg

Reminds me of these words I have always loved from Psalm 139: “You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me” (verse 5).

Perhaps you too have had a challenging week full of heartache. Perhaps this song and David’s song of long ago will comfort you as they did me.

What helps you through challenging, heart-aching weeks?