Suzanne Schaffer

I don't follow many celebrities on social media. Several Food Network chefs, Tom Hanks (he does this glove thing when he's out and posts pics on FB), Amy Grant (obviously), Natalie Grant, and some other Christian artists and authors.  And yes, authors are totally celebs.  Natalie Grant is one I follow on Instagram. Instagram has a feature called My Story at the top of the app. Few people utilize it: my friend who posts his daily workouts, a Pittsburgh Foodie account with the scrumptious flavors of my city, a friend living in China who shares interesting pieces of her new world, and Natalie Grant. Natalie recently shared her new toaster in one of these clips that disappears after a day or two. She showed us its features as if she were a QVC host trying to sell the most incredible new product, and convinced me that it is indeed the best toaster ever. It's the Breville Lift and Look Touch 4-Slice Toaster.  It's a work of art. It has a button to...

Every year it seems our society is more obsessed with Hallmark Christmas movies than the year before. We are now able to enjoy them in July as well as during the holiday season. Who doesn't love a sappy-happy movie where everything works out just fine? Life is messy yet the movies and entertainment we choose can blur our reality. The family dinner that looks perfect on screen or even in our Instagram photos doesn't show the harsh reality that life hurts. Plastic smiles don't reveal the tension between family members. Posed pictures don't whisper the gossip between those who no longer talk to each other. No matter how hard we try to make everything just so we will never be able to attain how life is portrayed on screen. It isn't real. Movies, books, and television shows create an illusion of how we want life to appear and we can be overwhelmed when trying to accomplish this or even be left discouraged and depressed when it can't be done. Some of us try t...

I hate when skinny people say, "I forgot to eat," because who forgets to eat? It's like forgetting to breathe, I've not had it happen. In fact, I've remembered extra meals. There are things I have forgotten though. It was 1980-something and I'd forgotten the secret thoughts written in a devotional journal in middle school. This particular book was set up like a diary with scriptures and inspirational sayings on each page. I wrote sporadically through it, everything from what I had for breakfast, what the weather was like, who my current crush was, and what I really thought about the kids in my youth group. I've been journaling,  writing in diaries, and blogging for as long as I can remember and have more notebooks I should probably burn than ever need see the light of day. I'd long forgotten about this book until I found it one weekend while I was home from college, it was shelved in the library of the school at the church I attended. My parents...

I skirted the issue for months, avoiding any hint of upheaval though I felt it to my bones. The closer I navigated towards the issue the bigger the signs were that there was something wrong. It was as though the, "I'd turn back if I were you," sign greeting Dorothy's friends in the forest as they sought the Emerald City was showing up on every path I set my feet on.  I had a relationship in trouble. The more stories I hear the more I'm convinced we are all dealing with at least one relationship in our lives which is in conflict and the key to fixing it lies on both sides. One alone cannot fix the damage. There are many reasons for relationships to end, some more heartbreaking than others, and some are best to let die while others should be fought for.   All relationships require polishing in order for them to shine, pruning in order for them to grow. My husband and I didn't get to twenty-five years of marriage without effort. There were dents and scra...

As Christians we sometimes get so caught up in saying Christian things that we fail to be real. We have our own language that few outside our church walls understand. We say things like, "It's under the cross," and "But God," but the truth is these words don't help as much as we think they should. We utter, "I'll pray for you," as we hurry off of the phone or away from a hurting person at the grocery store. What if, instead, we lingered? What if we turned off the Christianese and just allowed our presence to talk? Sometimes our words lend more confusion than the victory we think they have. When we first moved to the Saint Louis area in the winter of 2004, we did what newcomers do - we drove around getting to know the small towns that stretched along the Mississippi River. I kept noticing a sign at McDonald's that read, "Get Your Cards Cards Here." To be honest, it bothered me a lot. Cards Cards? Was someone having a hard tim...

It's hunting season here in Pennsylvania. More specifically, it's deer season. This always leads to me being asked if I'd like some deer meat. "No thanks, I don't like deer meat," I say. I keep to myself that I did my time when we were poor youth pastors without much extra money for real steak. Year after year, deer after deer. BTDT. My response inevitably leads to, "Well, you just haven't had it cooked right," followed by them acting as though I've done something wrong because of what I said. I mean, this does happen, I do say things that get me in trouble but I'm generally a pretty easy going girl. Give me chocolate and all is well. Can we talk about this though? Because I love to cook. I cook all kinds of things and have cooked recipes of all different skill levels. I know how to cook deer meat. I just don't like the taste of it. It doesn't matter how it's cooked. I don't like it. And that's okay. M...

I miss the days of fairytales and daydreams. Of Barbie dolls and seashells. Of bikes with banana seats and suntans without concern. These days are full of bad news, worries, deception, and everything else the media throws at us. They’re full of friends with cancer and families burying loved ones too soon. I feel like I spend too much time in a performance of a prettied up face and well-pressed clothing, masking the me within. The me who craves sweatpants, a clean face, air-dried hair, and hot chocolate. The me who would rather snuggle under a blanket and watch a Cary Grant movie than attend a Tupperware party, Girl’s Night Out, or even go to church. Because sometimes—as the pastor’s wife—church hurts. I’ve been the subject of gossip, rumors, and even have had my own words twisted and thrown back at me by a judge with an eye looking outward so keenly it can’t see the plank protruding from it like a crazy unicorn. So I put on my make-up and cover my heart. I build wa...