Rachel Fisher

This afternoon I found myself weeping in a Dillard’s bathroom. My mom and I were so excited to spend the afternoon together running around town, and here I was crying. Blubbering, to be exact. Why? Because grief.

For as long as I can remember, my Grandpa would give me “Easter money” to buy a new dress. Since his passing earlier this year, I’ve built up in my mind how important it is to continue this tradition. (So noble of me to give myself a reason to buy a new dress, I know.)

Today was the day I’d continue the tradition and purchase said Easter dress, I’d decided. Except I just couldn’t find what I wanted. My mom and I searched multiple stores, but nothing seemed right. Feeling overwhelmed by the lack of a definitive answer, I became easily agitated and stressed…all over a new dress.

My mom, being the intuitive, caring person she is, sensed something more was the matter and gave me space to sort out my emotions. This dress is not just an homage to my Grandpa, but it’s also a painful reminder that he’s not here to see it.

John 11:25-26 is Easter: “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?'”

It’s everything all at once. Dying is living, grieving is celebrating, shopping is crying. What I believe is in the amazing salvation of Jesus, whose goodness perseveres even when it feels so dark.

Food for thought: What was a moment in time that was difficult but rewarding?

I started writing this at 10 p.m. and could’ve sworn it was well past midnight. Now it’s actually almost midnight and my brain is even more mush. Today was long…all good things culminating in a big work event…but long nonetheless. And I realized how out of shape I am.

Before the pandemic, I would feel like a failure if I didn’t have plans at least four nights a week. The way my schedule was packed could only be described as militant; I was determined to cram as much in as possible. But then the world stood still, I changed (for the better), and now my priority is quality over quantity.

Even when the situation is healthy, I have still found myself feeling drained by historically effortless achievements. A social setting like tonight that was fast-paced and well-attended would’ve thrilled me beyond compare, but I caught myself retreating several times out of friendly exhaustion.

Then I reminded myself that I’m just out of practice.

Galatians 6:4 says, “Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else.”

So often we associate judgement with others, but in reality, our own personas can be the most difficult to shake. Yes, two years after lockdown, I—along with every, single other person—have a different idea of socialization. But I also have to remind myself of the ways in which I’ve grown. I may be rusty at a large gathering, but I cherish those conversations tremendously more. Let’s all give ourselves some grace!

Food for thought: what do you miss about “the before times?” What do you like most that’s changed?

Tonight as I was driving home, I received a text from a number I hadn’t saved. Turns out, it was a guy with whom I’d been on several dates a few months prior. (What I interpreted to be as nothing more than friendly), he expressed that he recently joined a church and thought I might be interested in getting involved with an affiliate young adult ministry.

Despite both the small group and suitor not being a good fit, I nevertheless thanked him for thinking of me with genuine appreciation. Here was someone with whom I’d spent a limited time but nevertheless communicated the importance—and approachability—of my faith.

I get a lot of things wrong. And I really try to be transparent about that because being vulnerable in this space, while difficult at times, is always worthwhile. After all, Matthew 6:33 says, “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

I may not be great at turning Hinge matches into actual relationships, but you can be sure as hell I’m filled with actual, authentic peace tonight. Because for every area of my life where I feel I’m failing, my relationship with Jesus is still solid. Getting that right is the best thing I’ll ever be given.

Food for thought: What do you consider to be your greatest achievements?

I just spent the better part of the last half hour glued to the television. Mind you, this is our small, countertop kitchen tv, so I was standing…glass of wine in hand…watching a show I’d recorded. And by show, I mean Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi.

For those of y’all new here, this is a very normal picture of my life. Why? Because I love Star Wars. Despite having seen this particular film no less than 300 times, I nevertheless devoted my full attention to finish a movie aired on tv despite us owning it on every platform imaginable AND one whose ending with which I am very much familiar.

But what can I say? Star Wars gets me every time.

But it’s not just this franchise. I love what led to my viewing: sharing a delicious homemade dinner (thanks, Mom) with my parents. And I love that I listened to Taylor Swift on the car ride home with my sun roof open. And I love that my friend whom I hadn’t seen in a week bought me a Diet Coke at lunch. I love that when I look back on the day, the things I cherish most are the things I often repeat…the standards.

In considering the ways my world spins on the same, consistent axis, I often think about Numbers 6:24-26:

²⁴ The Lord bless you
and keep you;
²⁵ the Lord make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
²⁶ the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.

Joy is meant to exist in the fiber of every being. God’s grace is intended to be exemplified in each action we take. Love is required to persist, even in the most mundane of settings: Star Wars and supper and soda and the million little things that make up this beautiful life of mine.

Food for thought: What’s a small thing that brought you joy today?

Every Tuesday during the school year, I go visit my friend, who happens to be in the third grade. I’ve been his mentor through Kids Hope since he was in Kindergarten, but sadly we didn’t see each other for nearly two years due to the pandemic.

Previously, our hour together was largely influenced by my suggestions: board games, puzzles, books…anything to stimulate his imagination and show him that I was a trusted adult who cared.

But now, he’s so much more inquisitive, so much more opinionated. The little boy with whom I once consistently played Candyland needs actual convincing and direction, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was struggling.

Today, we began with free draw, his favorite activity. My friend is a great artist, so I was happy to oblige his request. As we sketched pirate ships (per his suggestion), he asked me directly, “Did you like school?”

My first instinct was to say, “Of course! School is great! You should love it, too!” Obviously, I want him to know the importance of his education and encourage him to lean into his academic interests.

But then I remembered why I was actually there: to build a relationship. So I told him the truth, that there were some parts of school I loved, but some parts were really hard. He then offered up that he found areas of school challenging, both concerning subjects and friendships. I tried my best to simply listen, not attempting to fix it or “silver-lining” the situation.

Colossians 4:5-6 says, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”

Wisdom isn’t having the answer but being prepared to answer. We need not know everything, we just have to be willing to show up and let God work out the rest. Even…or rather, especially…when dealing with a nine-year old.

Food for thought: When has someone else’s words brought comfort? When have your words brought comfort to someone else?

Last week, I took three Covid tests because I had a sore throat and cough that appeared after being in a show with many people (in very tight quarters for extended periods of time). Alas, it wasn’t coronavirus causing such, reactions as all my tests came back negative and I’ve gotten every shot offered. No, while the physical exertion probably contributed, it wasn’t the musical, either. I believe my ailments to be a product of The Great Pollinating, or as most would say, Spring.

This change in season has caused me to pop a throat lozenge four times a day, blow my nose with the ferocity of an elephant, and rub my eyes to the point of avoiding mascara altogether.

And yet, I freaking love Spring. It’s my favorite season, in fact. The blooming flowers, the soft breeze, the evening sunshine…I wish to spend one hundred percent of my time outside, in spite of the reality that my face has settled into a permanent pink predicament.

To me, Spring is worth the sneezes.

But why? Lamentations 3:22-24 goes further to explain:

²² Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”

Allergies cannot keep me from enjoying this March weather. Fear of rejection cannot inhibit me from pursuing a new relationship. Tear-stained memories cannot stop me from remembering deceased loved ones. The cross cannot stop Easter morning from breaking through the darkness.

We must always remember, the Lord is our portion. The newness that is promised on the other side of strife…these buds are worthy of waiting in the Springtime weeds.

Food for thought: What hurt keeps you from being vulnerable? How can you give that strain to God?

I am guilty of what 2022 refers to as “Main Character Energy.” This is when you see the world through the lens of a protagonist, fancying yourself the hero of the story. At its best, Main Character Energy is confidence-boosting and self-affirming. At its worst, this is a narcissist’s dream. I’d like to think most days I fall in the former category, but sometimes it gets the best of me and fuels a romantic…but false…narrative of reality.

Take tonight, for example. By the generosity of some very dear friends, I got invited to see my favorite stand-up comedian. Two tickets up for grabs…but I couldn’t find someone to accompany me. My usual go-to’s already spoken for, I was faced with a choice: go by myself and face a heightened social situation solo, or stay at home and miss out on a truly wonderful opportunity.

I opted to go for it, and wow, am I so glad I did. Looking around the arena alone, I caught myself throwing a pity party as I glanced at the empty seat next to me. “How brave am I to step outside my comfort zone like this!” I thought to myself. “People must think I’m so confident and self-assured!”

Ha.

Look, I’m not trying to downplay my decision; I think it’s really cool I’ve grown to a place where I’m not afraid to push myself into more independence. But I cannot lace progress with pathos in order to justify my situation. That only fuels the fire of shallow, ego-centric satisfaction, leading me right back to where I started: insecurity.

Paul explains in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, “⁹ But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Jesus doesn’t need us to be the Main Character. He doesn’t want us puffing out our chests, pretending like we’ve got it all figured out. He wants us to turn to him when we need conviction, not mask our doubt with self-serving hubris. By trusting in God, we release the pressure to look like we have it all together, all the time. Because that kind of leading lady, well, she only exists in the movies.

Food for thought: What narratives do you form about yourself in order to avoid introspection?

My friend and I went to dinner tonight and, like any good night out goes, discussed deep-rooted trauma as the bread was being served. I explained how illuminating the past few weeks have been for me, discovering that so many of my actions are taken involuntarily, stemming from a core desire to appear a certain way. For me, it’s being “bold,” for her, “perfect.” Regardless, it’s all a ruse to detract from appearing vulnerable. A lot for appetizers, I know.

The thing is, we both relayed how much we like these characteristics of our personalities. For example, when I am brave and uninhibited to step outside my comfort zone and try something others find too daunting, I love myself. But I’m slowly starting to recognize that there are plenty of times I hide behind this spectacle: smoke and mirrors are flashy but inauthentic, and there are plenty of times I use my “fearlessness” to mask genuine fear…

Joshua 1:9 says, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Deciphering one’s personality is, well, personal, but God gives us a straightforward path to pursuing our purest selves. Be unabashedly who you are…but don’t let your own shortcomings detract you from the ultimate victor in Christ.

Food for thought: What’s your default reaction, and how does it serve God?

You know those days when the weather is just so perfect that you have to go for a walk? There’s just something so refreshing, so peaceful about focusing on everything and nothing at the same time. I can be so zeroed in on my to-do list, work tasks, social media, etc., but then I’ll stick my phone in my pocket, get up from my desk, and press reset. A whole ecosystem unfolds around me, from kids playing catch in their front yards to airplanes soaring overhead. It makes me pause and think about how freaking lucky I am to live in such a placid place when war, poverty, and oppression ravage so much of the world, even just up the road.

What I love most about my walks, though, is that it provides me space to listen. I am but a mere observer, accomplishing nothing other than moving my feet and taking in the flood of senses around me.

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is that of Zechariah, husband of Elizabeth and uncle to Jesus, who was made mute for his lack of faith. In Luke 1:20, the angel Gabriel explains, “And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time.”

As someone who (clearly) loves talking, this verse not only heeds great warning for trusting God…but it also highlights the blessing of silence. Zechariah grew closer to God by using the moment to reflect on his surroundings and the many ways in which God was moving through him. Two thousand years later, Christ continue to fill every, single space of this wide, beautiful world, and I’m just so grateful to be a small fixture in it.

Food for thought: What activity brings you peace?

In the Spring of 2015, I sat in a Chuy’s dining room and cried over a margarita with my three best friends just days before our college graduation. Expressing how sad I’d been feeling the past semester, they frankly (but lovingly) responded with a, “Duh. You hate endings.”

A whopping seven years later, I have realized that it’s not conclusions I dread so much…it’s the lack of a new beginning that should take its place. Work, relationships, interests, hobbies: they’re all evolving, and I feel like I cannot find my footing. Being completely vulnerable, however, my Grandpa dying at the beginning of the year is what’s really sent me into a tailspin of finale-fear…after all, death is (morbidly) the ultimate hard-stop to a saga…

But I’m not the same 22 year old I was in that restaurant because I have the glorious gift of perspective. I know I’ve been here before, and while it totally sucks sitting in this despair, I at least can see a bit farther out into the horizon. (Thank you, therapy!)

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

In craving newness, my tendency is to shun all aspects of endings. But God’s power is so much greater than any human interpretation of what goodness is to come. Through Christ, we transcend beginnings and endings. Through Christ, we have eternity.

Food for thought: What would your life look like if you didn’t fear the future?