Rachel Fisher

Tonight I spent over two hours FaceTiming my college roommates, who I consider to be my very best friends in the entire world. These women have been by my side for over ten years, and I never dreamt I could’ve found such kindred spirits among my counterparts. Their great example has paved the way for glorious other relationships in my adult life, and I’m so thankful we got to catch up as if no time had passed at all.

Having participated in several conversations today about difficult moments in our lives—both presently and previously—I paused to reflect on the power of authenticity. Not once did I question the other parties’ motivations or candor; we were all transparent because that’s what friends do.

But not everyone knows that, or at least, has been shown that. Today is Maundy Thursday, which frankly to me, is all about friendship. John 13:14-17 describes, “¹⁴ Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. ¹⁵ I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.¹⁶ Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. ¹⁷ Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

He then went on to offer his body and blood as living sacraments to all who love him, knowing full well these people he loved so dearly would betray him.

Upon reflection, I realize just now powerful humility is, not because we must be willing to clean our loved-ones of their impurities (both physical and emotional, of course). More than anything, it’s the acknowledgment that these people still love and accept you despite your transgressions. Being a follower of Christ not only means being willing to serve others but also being at peace with the fact that others might look to you despite your flaws. Holy friendship, what a beautiful thing.

Food for thought: what does true selfless service look like to you?

Today my coworker and I were discussing when to set up a meeting. She suggested tomorrow at noon, to which I relied, “We have the Maundy Thursday service then.” Jokingly, I quipped, “Why does Holy Week have to be so inconvenient?!”

As is the case with all humor, there is truth in each statement under the guise of sarcasm. So why do I casually tarnish the most important holiday of our faith? Why am I not shouting “Hosanna!” from the rooftops and making every effort to be present in the days leading to the cross?

2 Corinthians 9:7 says, “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” If I decide I am only able to surrender a small fraction of my time to the preparation of my heart for Christ’s resurrection, then naturally I will feel resentful about the rest. But if I give it all to God, I’ll never be disappointed. We can be our own worst enemy or our greatest champion, the question is: are you working for yourself, or are you working for Jesus?

Food for thought: what emotions arise when mapping out Holy Week?

Tonight my dear friend gave a concert on the organ taking us through the Stations of the Cross, and frankly speaking, I felt like a Looney Toons character getting pancaked by an anvil. Weeping through most of the movements, I was faced with my own sin and how similar it feels to that of those who crucified Jesus. Just a casual Tuesday night, as it goes.

I think so much of life is anticipating the happy parts; as an eternal optimist I love this about my own outlook AND the general preference of society toward positivity. The negativity, however? Noooo thank you, I’m alright, don’t bother me!

But what even is good without bad? Ephesians 4:15 says, “ Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” If we cannot face the actions that led Jesus to his crucifixion, Easter is a shallow holiday without any substantial context.

God loves us despite our transgressions and in spite of our apathy toward them. May Christ’s suffering never be too much for us to face the truth of his great love.

Food for thought: what’s one thing you need to lift up to God today?

Holy cow, it’s Holy Week. Having starting this Lenten blog way back in February (did we even do March?!), it feels as though time has both flown by and stood still, all at the same time. I truly cannot wrap my mind around the fact that Lent is almost concluded, yet its presence seems to linger to the point of permanence. Perhaps that’s the point of all this, though: to feel both ready for what’s next and comforted by the routine of regularity in the context of drawing nearer to Christ.

For me, this blog has represented so much in that field of growth. My response to questions on how it’s all been going is always that I’ve found writing every day to be a discipline…but I can do it. And I actually enjoy it tremendously! Not that I didn’t already love writing, or even writing daily, but actually putting something out there with the (positive) peer pressure to check it off the list has been incredibly rewarding.

More than having something to say everyday, I’ve learned that I always have something upon which to reflect. One of my very favorite Bible verses is Roman 12:2, which states, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Committing to write each day in turn has committed me to witness God move through the world—my world—each day.

Uncertainty, fear, hopelessness…those emotions don’t go away, but they provide opportunities for us to work through them with God as our focus. Seeing the world through this lens of a relationship with Jesus makes the difficult that more bearable, more of a chance to progress. As we make our way to the cross on Friday and resurrection on Sunday, I pray to cherish the lessons I’ve learned—and am still learning—with Christ guiding me closer to his goodness, every step of the way.

Food for thought: what have you learned these past weeks? What do you seek in the week ahead?

Yesterday, I expressed my apprehension at signing up for a 5K on a whim. I’m happy to report that I did, in fact, run the race and make great time, proving that a. I’m more fit than I give myself credit, and b. it’s always better to do something than…not (within reason, of course)….

2 Timothy 1:7 says, “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” Participating in a 5K didn’t necessarily bring me closer to God, but it was a straightforward example of how easy it is to make a choice. Taking action is not just exciting, but holy.

I think about all the times I don’t necessarily choose one option over the other but resolve to do nothing at all…which I suppose is a choice in and of itself. Regardless, I succumb to my own sloth and sacrifice growth for lack of self-awareness.

One of my mentors passed along this advice on writing, “Sometimes you just need to live some more to refine your greatness.” A life with Jesus calls us to action, so I pray I keep striving for greatness.

Food for thought: where do you find your motivation?

I signed up to run a 5K tomorrow. Why did I do this to myself?

As I look at the empty glass of wine that I’d like to refill and additional episode of TV I’d like to watch, I can’t help but question my earlier decision. What made me decide that this was how I wanted to spend my Saturday morning?

I haven’t run a timed race in five years, so it’s not like this is a treasured pastime of mine. But I leaned into the urge on a whim…and now my Friday night is impacted.

So what’s keeping me from just calling it? Legitimately, I’m working through this as I type…

Honor? Commitment? Perseverance? It all seems so overrated until one is faced with abandoning these pillars.

Philippians 4:8 iconically states, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

FREAKING INTEGRITY. It shows up and plops itself down and makes you run at 8:00 a.m. on the weekend because you put your name down. I suppose I should be proud that I’m sticking to my motivation to better myself, even in an example as trivial as a local event. Because integrity demands consistency across the board, thriving on whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable.

Doing good things are good…they’re just also tiring on a Saturday sometimes…and ultimately worthwhile I GUESS…

Food for thought: when has integrity driven you to go a farther distance?

People often identify as “morning person” or “night owl,” but I think I’m an “evening lady(?).” I truly love the hours of 4-8 p.m. I’m most productive at work, most eager to catch up with loved ones, most content with the ways of the world.

One of the things I most cherish about this time is my solitary walk to the parking garage. Glamorous, I know, this period is much more significant than one might suspect. To most, this respite is a means to an end: the necessary step to getting in one’s car and away from one’s place of business. But not me; this is my holy hour, my moment of meditation.

As cheesy as it may sound, I actually find the walk to my car to be quite spiritual. Here is five minutes where I am able to focus on nature: the birds chirping, the wind billowing, the trees rustling. And it’s all mine. I don’t have the (lovely) distraction of friends, the pressing matter of business, the hurriedness of commitment. No, right now, it’s just me and my surroundings, taking in the day for what it’s worth.

Ezekiel 20:12 expresses, “Also I gave them my Sabbaths as a sign between us, so they would know that I the Lord made them holy.”

I think dedicating a day to rest is so admirable, a goal to which we should all strive. But seeking Sabbath in glimpses each day…now that’s holy. When we pause to absorb all that God’s doing around us, we are able to fulfill the most rewarding, basic component of relationship: gratitude. Even in a cement-laden walk to a parking space, Christ breaks through and shows his glory, if only we pause long enough to see it.

Food for thought: When is your Sabbath? When do you feel closest to God?

I was so impressed with myself tonight because it was 10:45 p.m., and I was ready to go to bed. For the past few months, I swear I haven’t gone to sleep before 12:30 a.m. because I haven’t felt tired, which is TERRIBLE for being a basic, productive adult during the day. Tonight was finally going to be the night I change!

Lol not hardly seeing as it’s 11:58 p.m. at the time of me writing this, that didn’t happen. And there it is…I have stayed up tonight’s because I don’t know what the hell I want to publish. But because I know I have to write something (Lent, ammiright), I have dug deep each night…and wow, I have a lot to say!

Deutoronemy 8:5-6 says, ^“5 Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you. ⁶ Observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him.”

There have been so many times I’ve wanted to end this commitment of writing every, single day, but I see the benefit of keeping up a discipline. Yes, my writing has had the chance to flourish and I’ve been able to take more risks, but more than anything, it’s proved to me that sticking with ventures that bring me closer to Christ are worth the investment. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to give my brain the rest for which it keeps asking…

Food for thought: what’s a spiritual discipline that comes naturally to you? Is more difficult?

In David Kessler and Elisabeth Kübler-Ros’s book On Grief and Grieving, the introduction says of the stages of grief, “They are not linear, they are not a map for grief, do not reduce people to this, do not reduce our grief to this. These are not prescriptive, they’re descriptive, and they only describe general patterns.”

I didn’t think I’d write three sad posts in a row, but here we are.

Today began positive: I went for a run, was productive at work, and had a generally pleasant morning. Going into the afternoon, I felt more irritable and sluggish, but nothing I couldn’t brush off as the Tuesday blues.

With an evening of fun planned, I went to dinner with friends, only to find myself crying over spending a gift card my Grandpa had given me months ago.

Coming home, I cried even more to my parents and resolved to take a relaxing shower and pop in a movie. This rollercoaster of a day made me roll my eyes and ask, “Why does this all have to be so dramatic?”

In shaming myself for the audacity to have emotions, I center myself back to a healthier place with 1 Peter 4:8, which says, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.”

Here’s where I’ve gotten it all wrong, though: these sins are not the act of backtracking one’s grief. That’s not how grief works. Sins are lying to oneself that feeling sad or upset is wrong. It denies the opportunity for those closest to us to love on us, to save us from our own sin of self-shame. My friends at dinner showered me with compassion. My parents related to and comforted me with their wisdom. And my own heart took comfort in the knowledge that Jesus knows and loves every part of me, even the places I wish I didn’t have to revisit.

Food for thought: when have you misinterpreted vulnerability for weakness?

This is a hard post to write. It was even harder watching the news tonight, seeing the tied-up, mangled bodies of civilians in the streets of Bucha after Russia’s genocide of Ukrainians. And this is just me watching, hearing about the horrors. People are actually living through this nightmare, in all corners of the world.

I want to curse and throw up and cry and just get a straightforward answer to, “How?” How is this possible, in this day and age? How can one human being commit such atrocities to another human being? And then I ask, “Why?”

Why does God allow this suffering?

I wish I had a clear-cut vision of the purpose behind it all. But I don’t think God works that way, and I certainly don’t believe “everything happens for a reason.” Because this is evil and this is cruel and this is the exact opposite of what God desires.

The shortest verse of the Bible is John 11:35, which simply reads, “Jesus wept.” Our savior was sent to Earth to be among us, to be an example and live with the people he loves so much. But Jesus also came to serve as a vessel for God. When his friend, Lazarus, had died Jesus reacted as a human. He had compassion. He had grief. He wept.

Human beings can be selfish and overcome with hatred and greed. Terrible things happen by our own hands, and Jesus feels this pain alongside us. Free will enables atrocities, but it gives us the opportunity to turn to Christ in times of darkness. His mission of peace is the rock on which we stand, even when all hope seems lost. We have compassion, we grieve, and we weep. And then we keep fighting for the light.

Click here to donate to to UMCOR—the United Methodist Committee on Relief, to assist those in Ukraine as well as Ukrainian refugees who have fled to neighboring countries.