Afton Rorvik's Blog, page 15

Look and Live

Many months ago I had the joy of editing a book titled Look and Live by Matt Papa, a recording artist and worship leader. Long after I finished my work on the manuscript and passed it on to the next editor, Matt Papa’s honest, poetic words continued to roll around in my head and my heart. Working on this book made me take a good, long look at what has a grip on my soul.

And so, I want to pass on to you some of Matt’s words. Oh, and I have five copies of his book that I would LOVE to give away. Just contact me via my website. I only have five copies though, so be quick!

And now, listen in to Matt Papa.

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After college I went into full-time ministry. Me and the sizeable chip on my shoulder were ready and determined to change the world. God needed me on His team, and I was sure I would be the one to do something great and give the devil a definitive deathblow. (Yeah, I know, Somebody already did that. But when you’re running around building a kingdom, sometimes you forget.)

God was certainly using me in wonderful ways. I was going on mission trips. I was leading Bible studies. I was doing loads of Christian things. My schedule was full, and it seemed that lots of people respected me. All the while, I was depressed, enslaved to the approval of others, and addicted to pornography (p. 21).

I could never seem to shake the porn addiction. I had the accountability, the computer software, everything but real victory. As much as I wanted to stop, I couldn’t. The idol just seemed to jump right back on the throne. But then I got some advice from a mentor friend of mine.

He said to me, “Matt, I know you’ve been fighting, but have you been looking?”

Huh?

What he meant was had I really been spending time with Jesus? In the hustle and bustle of life, I hadn’t.

And so I did. I really did.

I began just soaking in the Bible every morning. I woke up and just looked at Jesus. And it didn’t happen overnight, but slowly, something began happening. I started tasting freedom. I began changing.

I met Glory.

That’s how we change, by experiencing a greater Thrill (p. 79).

In Memory of Mrs. Sobie

Just two weeks ago on a sunny, crisp Colorado day, I entered St. Joseph’s Catholic church to the sound of bagpipes playing “Amazing Grace.” I gasped. Such a bold sound, Such a beautiful church. So fitting for a farewell event for a wonderful woman—Mrs. Sobie, Sally Ann Sobieszczyk.

Her daughter, Roberta, and I met in junior high and spent lots of hours together laughing, talking about boys, playing clarinet, making cookies. I logged so many hours at the Sobie house in my teenage years that it felt like my in-town house.

Long after those years, Roberta and I stayed in touch. But much to my surprise, I also stayed in touch with Roberta’s mom. Every year a card arrived on my birthday signed by Mrs. Sobie. And every July I sent her a card for her birthday. When she got email, we connected that way too.

When my mother died, Mrs. Sobie brought cookies to the memorial service. “Dirty Cookies.” She knew how I loved this recipe for chocolate chips handed down from my great-grandmother.

She also sent me this note after that service for my mom (p. 125 of Storm Sisters).

Dear Afton and family—What a lovely “send off” for your Mom—and aren’t you glad you were able to be with her during her final journey? Have no regrets. . . . Remember, I told you that the Hospice where you are, as well as the one here, offers a lot of help—just reach out for it.

So, now, I use this blog to honor Mrs. Sobie and honor her girls who loved her well, especially in her last sixteen days in the Cardiac ICU.

What a thoughtful service you planned for your mom. The beautiful soprano voice of the cantor spoke such comfort and hope. And the piece you wrote about your mom, including tales from her childhood, made me laugh and cry. What a challenge to sum up a life in just minutes. And the fireworks before and after the slideshow during lunch—perfect!

And now, as you miss this woman so full of life, may I send back to you the words she sent me: “Aren’t you glad you were able to be with your mom during her final journey? Have no regrets. . . . Remember, I told you that the Hospice where you are, as well as the one here, offers a lot of help—just reach for it.”

Thank you, Mrs. Sobie, for living your life well and allowing me to be a part of it. Grateful!

What Is Your Story?

So you’ve listened to me for many months now, and if you’ve read my book, Storm Sisters, you’ve heard lots of my stories.  You may be saying, “Enough already!”

Do you mind if we change things up a bit? I would like to hear YOUR stories. And I know others readers of this blog would too.

Why?

Because hearing another’s story reminds us that we have company. In our busy, disconnected, unpredictable, and often lonely world, don’t we all need that?

C. S. Lewis said it so well in his book, The Four Loves: “Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .””  https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/14816053-the-four-loves

In chapter three (p. 40) of my book I write, “I have never asked for help well. I am much more comfortable helping than receiving help.” I then describe a time when I found the courage to ask for help and the surprising help-gifts my friends offered.

Did you have a similar moment? A time when you found the courage to ask another for help? If so, brave friend, would you tell us your story?

Do not include full names, just use initials. And do not include location details. Do include your hesitations, worries, motivation, challenges, joys, lessons learned, etc. And describe your friend’s reaction to your “Help” cry.

I will edit (gently, I promise!) your story, let you see it before it runs in the blog, and send you and your Storm Sister each a signed copy of my book as well as a set of handmade Storm Sister cards, designed specifically for you by my talented friend, Melody Bodger: http://www.pinterest.com/aftonrorvik/cards-by-melody-bodger/

Send your stories to http://aftonrorvik.com/contact/

So looking forward to hearing your stories. Thank you!!

Follow me on Twitter @rorvik_afton

Tweet me at #StormSisters

Wouldn’t Want to Miss This

Two slices of deep-dish pizza, nestled in a baggie, dangled from my mailbox.  My friend had brought me lunch.

What extraordinary, out-of-the-box delivery service!

Just like so many people I know. Extraordinary. Out-of-the-box. I find that I especially gravitate toward friends with some specific qualities:

Humor. I tend to be way too serious. Always pondering the meaning of life and the universe. I depend on John for his good humor and lighter perspective. And also on my pizza-hanging friend and others who open my eyes to the silly side of life.
Challenge. I can get stuck. Stuck on myself. Stuck in a specific way to do life. Stuck in the past. Stuck in worry. I have several wise friends who speak honest words to me: “I would love to see you.  . . .”
Wisdom.  Sometimes I simply feel inadequate. Can’t figure out this social media stuff—blogging, posting, pinning, tweeting. Oh, my! Can’t figure out how to navigate quiet spaces. Can’t figure out how to navigate empty nest. And then I ask a wise friend, “What did you do when . . . ?” My friends speak truth to me from their experience, and they also speak truth to me from their faith in God and their love of his words as written in the Bible.

What about you? What draws you into friendship?

And thank you, wise friends, for joining this ongoing conversation.

Follow me on Twitter @rorvik_afton

Tweet me at #StormSisters

“But I’m Afraid”

Public speaking. Heights. Snakes.

Maybe these fears top your list as they do mine. Or not.

True confession: friendship sometimes takes a place on my Top Ten Fears list. Ironic, I know, because I just wrote a book about friendship.

Let me explain.

On any given day, a million, or at least three or so, questions come to mind that give me pause as I consider connecting with flesh and blood people.

Time. Can I/should I interrupt my day with its self-imposed goals for conversation? Deadlines and commitments matter, don’t they? More than conversation?
Energy. Do I have enough zip in my tank to build into someone else’s life today? I’m weary and out of gas myself more days than I would like to admit.
Tidiness. I like order, structure, predictability. Can I/should I push aside the tidiness of my day for the sake of building a relationship today?

So . . . I wrestle.

What about you? What makes you hesitate about jumping into friendship? (Next week we’ll talk about what draws us into friendships.)

And thank you, wise friends, for joining this ongoing conversation. 

Let’s Talk…Please!

LOVED the conversation we had last week about quiet times. Felt to me like sitting down over breakfast and flavored coffee and having a good chat with friends. Thank you, brave contributors.

Many of you I know and have turned to countless times for wisdom and challenge and comfort. I so want other people to meet you and benefit from your wisdom as I have.

Some of you I don’t yet know, but I would so enjoy getting to know you and introducing you to my host of wise friends.

Every morning I sit down to check in on Facebook, etc,. (I’m slowly learning!) but then I linger over your comments on the blog. I truly savor that morning time with you.

So . . . would you grab a cup of coffee, tea, or diet coke (like my husband), and join in the conversation? I need your wisdom as do other readers.

By the way, I do not adhere to a strict, “No boys allowed” policy. In fact, I greatly value wisdom from the men in my life. So, gentlemen, if you are reading, feel free to add your voice to the conversation. Maybe even throw in a Seinfeld reference or two.

Help me make this blog a place to connect, refresh, gain perspective, laugh at ourselves, and then connect to the world of flesh and blood people.

Times They are A-Changin’

Every September it happens. Kids go back to school. Students arrive back at the college where John works. Days begin to shorten. The temperature starts to drop.

And I struggle.

Back to a quiet house. Back to ???

Some Septembers I have had a place to go, an office. Other Septembers I have had a big freelance editing project. Or a book deadline.

This year? Quiet.

So, as I wrestle with the “What next?” I’ve decided to talk about it. To you. And also to friends over coffee or lunch or a walk around the block. When someone asks, “How are you?” I respond honestly, “I’m in this odd place at the moment. Between things.”

In the admitting comes a sense of release, a letting go of sorting this out by myself.

Over breakfast this morning (ok, guess I’m doing a lot of eating out!), friends laughed with me as we brainstormed some out-of-the-box ideas for what’s next.

Back home now nothing appears different. Still quiet. But I carry with me the laughter and concern of those friends. And I feel carried by connection.

I wonder, would I feel this way, if I had decided to stay mum over breakfast this morning or just talk about the great and wonderful parts of my life or just stay home and skip breakfast?

What do you think?

Rediscovering an Old Friend

Over lunch a friend recently said, “I’ve been reading your book and doing the journaling questions in the back of the book.”

Oh!

I remembered writing in my book about the power of journaling: “In my journal I learned again to open my soul to God and to myself. These pages became a private, life-giving oasis for me.” (p. 143).

Oh!

So why has my journal sat in my drawer for many months? Forgetfulness? Fear of putting to words my inadequacies, fears, failures, questions?

Yes. And yes.

But when I sat to write this morning, prodded by that lunchtime conversation with my Storm Sister, my fears stopped speaking so loudly in my head. Words on paper. They led me to connections between emotions and events. They led me to confession of my shortcomings. And they led me to prayer. Seems to happen a lot in my journal. To paraphrase John Calvin, “The knowledge of God and the knowledge of ourselves are mutually connected.”

In the pages of my journal I find myself. And I find God.

Remind me friends, would you, not to neglect spending time with my old friend, my journal?

How has writing in a journal helped you? 

Launch Day

Tomorrow marks the official launch date for Storm Sisters.

So what does a launch day look like? A blimp hovering over my house to announce the event? A singing telegram? A parade?

Eek!

Just like any other day, I hope the day will include

. . . meeting Bev and Chase in the morning and watching the happy high-fives of our furry friends before we meander around the “hood.”

. . . firing up my percolator with a rich, flavored coffee.

. . . settling into my favorite chair with Ringo and having our “Fernando moment” of listening to Fernando Ortega on Pandora and lingering over words in my favorite book, the Bible. (Truth be told, I linger; he snoozes.)

For many days now I’ve returned to read over and over the same words from this book: “Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you” (Psalm 37:5, NLT).

Simple words. Straightforward words.  Wise words. Perspective-giving words.

Perfect launch-day words.

Join me, would you, in lingering over these words this day. And, if you pray, join me in committing this book, this collection of words, to God. Let us together ask God to bring life, His life, to those who read the words in Storm Sisters.

Thank you, Storm Sisters!

“In the pages that follow, I want to introduce you to some of these remarkable women and gift you with the wisdom they gave me” (Storm Sisters, p. 17).

When you open the pages of my new book, you will meet wonderful women of all ages and stages. Some married. Some widowed. Some single. Some now in heaven. All have marked my life permanently. And, I hope, will mark your life as well.

Thoughtful, intentional, wise, kind women. Not perfect.

They have challenged me to be present in the hard times, to hang on to God when the ground beneath me seems only to spin, to speak of my need and accept help. . . . I live differently today because of them.

Oh, what I would have missed had I simply crawled into myself and raised my INTROVERT flag. They reached for me. And I reached back, in my own quiet way.

Friends. How I have come to savor that word and all that it suggests. Who knew an introvert could discover the joy of connection? I hope that you will discover it too. Perhaps my book will help.

Thank you, my dear Storm Sisters!