Suzanne Schaffer

I've not spent a tremendous amount of time gardening. It's too messy for my liking. I prefer indoor work to yard work. I have given in to the idea of growing my own organic food and eating fresh from the garden but I also like the idea of driving to a local farmer's market and purchasing from someone else who has done the work. I'm not afraid to admit I don't enjoy working in the dirt, it messes with my fingernails. Buying local is much more attractive to me, and hey, my purchase helps support the local economy and we know that's very 2017. The time I have spent doing the dirty work has left me with some thoughts. Anyone who's spent time in a garden knows that a majority of the time is spent pulling weeds. Some have roots that grow deep and can't be pulled without the use of a spade or other gardening tool while others can be easily plucked from the earth. I've seen the same with trees in our yard. We moved into an overgrown plot of land and hav...

I could feel their eyes on me and as they huddled together I knew the sheepish glances my way included conversation. I tried to fill my mind with other things and not the assumptions that were multiplying and emptying me of any self worth I'd woken up with.  I felt less than . Dawn spent time with some close friends and as they tucked themselves into their hotel room she turned the lock on her own door. Alone. Wanting to be part of a couple. Knowing she'd been forgiven of two failed marriages yet letting the loneliness creep into her heart again. "My flesh haunts me. I feel like I've worked through it but sometimes, because I'm not married, I feel less than ." Jennifer compares herself to other people and even to past versions of herself. The comparison game makes her feel less than .  Jess married a little later than society expects and felt out of sorts over it. Even now, married just a few years and enjoying time with her spouse without having ...

"You look so much like a girl in a movie I just watched," he said to me. He repeated it often enough during the week that I was curious as to what movie he was talking about. "Mystic Pizza," he replied when I asked him. "You look like Annabeth Gish." At nineteen I hadn't heard of Annabeth Gish nor had I heard of Mystic Pizza. Several years later I saw it in a video rental store and read about it. I didn't rent it because it was R-rated and I knew I didn't need to see it. I did see it edited for television some time later. And was appalled. This man, this pastor, thought I looked like this actress. Fine. In a movie with a questionable rating. Meh. Playing the part of a girl who has an affair with a married man. Not fine. This is the first time I remember being disillusioned. I wondered why this was an acceptable form of entertainment for this married man, this pastor, this leader. And why he felt the need to tell me. Repeat...

I knew enough to know I didn't want to be there. My husband and I spent some time in Florida recently and took a drive down Route 1. We saw a myriad of red and blue flashing lights ahead of us as traffic slowed. We were stopped in a line of traffic as we craned our necks trying to catch a glimpse. Traffic started moving so we resigned ourselves to not knowing. Until a car marked Sheriff drove towards us and then pulled across in front of us and parked. A uniformed officer climbed out and readied an assault rifle, pointing it towards a parking lot on the other side of the street. A parking lot next to the beach. I just wanted to see the beach. Maybe catch a glimpse of a dolphin slicing through the water. Maybe see a sailboat pass.  Instead I witnessed numerous cars and officers doing the same as our new friend.  I am not an assault rifle girl. I'm a nail polish and cotton candy girl. As I watched the scene unfold I did what any girl-who-shouldn't-be-there would ...

I woke feeling worthless today. It's likely the perfect storm of wintery weather, hormones, a dichotomy on the scale, and the nagging cold that won't let go. I explained it to my friend this way, "I feel like a coin in a tin can. Rattling around and making a lot of noise but not doing anything worthwhile." All this a couple days after someone fussed over me, "Oh Suzanne, you're so awesome," she said excitedly. I don't like being fussed over. My close friends and family know this. It makes me very uncomfortable and gives me time to think about how un-awesome I am because I know myself better than anyone else does. I see my faults and failures. I see the ugly hiding in my heart. I see the attitude that needs changed. I see the unmet expectations and the quiet harbor I find in closing myself in a shell. Today has been full of cold wind, unending housework, and loads of self-doubt. I wore my inflatable crown while I ironed my h...

You are a miracle. You didn't arrive here by chance. It took centuries of decisions and roads traveled or not traveled to lead to your creation. We are made unique with our own stories. Here's mine: In the year 1620 the Mayflower sailed from England to the New World. John Howland was a passenger hoping for a new life, a dream almost cut short when he fell overboard. He was pulled from the sea and I am a direct descendant of his. My maternal grandfather was born in Italy and lived there until he was twelve, when, in 1920, he crossed the Atlantic with the same dreams as John Howland. He entered the New York Harbor and went through Ellis Island with thousands of other immigrants. He traveled from there to the Pittsburgh area where he met with family in Washington County. My grandfather married a woman who spent most of her life in the hills of West Virginia. They had a baby girl in 1931 and over the next ten years suffered the loss of a stillborn boy and the death of...

Prayer requests. In ministry we've heard them all. "Pray for my gas," was one that shut down open prayer request time at one church we served in. "Pray for my hangnail," was one another pastor heard. "Pray for my son to get a new job where he can make more money," is one a mother said to me on a Sunday morning. Some I've prayed include: "Please help us get out of debt." "Please take this illness away." What part do we play in having our needs met? The pastor who was asked to pray for the hangnail told the man, "Go home and cut it off." The answer to my prayer about getting out of debt took several years of hard work on our part. The miracle was finding a book about being debt free. The answer to my prayer about taking my illness away lied in finding a four month detox cleanse diet that cured me of my ailment. My mother-in-law was able to avoid taking medicine for a diabetes diagnosis by simply changin...