Author Archives: Rebekah Roper

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01/22/2011

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The Family Puzzle

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My Mother: My Best Friend

“What do you mean that doesn’t count?” I wondered when my coworker questioned me about my best friends. If my most trusted confidant couldn’t be my mother, then I had never had a best friend at all…

Now, I realize that the relationship I share with my mom is unusual. I wish I could give you a step-by-step plan of how to get there, but I honestly couldn’t tell you how my relationship with my Mom developed to this level. All I know is that I’m living proof that it is possible for mothers and daughters to be best friends.

The best thing about having my mom for a best friend is that she knows where I”m coming from. There’s no unshared history, no background barriers, and no differing theologies because Mom knows all of my stories and helped shape my theology. She’s the only person who fully “gets” me because I am who she raised me to become.

The biggest problem with having my mom be my best friend is that she’s irreplaceable. Once I moved 450 miles from home, I realized that I would never share that close relationship with anyone else. Fortunately, we can still call and email, but there’s simply nothing like having your best friend in the next room when you need her.

Most moms and daughters aren’t best friends, and sadly, most of them probably never will be. But I firmly believe that all moms and daughters should at least be close friends. You may relate with your mom differently than you do your peers, but that doesn’t mean you can’t relate with her as much. You need to find your common ground – that place where you can relate. Start by learning each others’ likes and dislikes as you carry on conversations like a couple of friends. This doesn’t mean that you have to agree on everything. In fact, I’m willing to bet that you don’t have one single friend with whom every opinion is identical. Just like with peer friends, there are some things you will have to agree to disagree on when relating to your mother.

A friendship with your mom is supposed to differ from all your other friendships. (Of course you don’t want your mom to dress and act like a teenager; she’s a mom!) But different is not always bad, and a close relationship with one’s mother is something to be treasured. Your mom can be your most trusted confidant, if only you will let her. So why not take some time to develop that relationship? After all, who better to confide the deepest longings of your heart with than the woman you have known all of your life?

How do you relate with your mom? Leave a comment and let me know how the two of you connect.

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01/20/2011

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Mirror Images: Dads and Daughters

Dad studied my face for a moment. “You have my eyebrow,” he exclaimed. He was, of course, referring to the one unmanageable eyebrow that stuck out in places where no eyebrow was supposed to go. (I have since learned to control it.) “Only yours is your right eyebrow, and mine is my left,” he observed. “It’s like looking in a mirror!”

What do eyebrows have to do with the way dads and daughters relate? Maybe nothing. And maybe everything. Dad remarked that looking at my face was like looking in a mirror. As we know, mirrors turn everything backwards. Dads and daughters can seem to have a lot in common, but often they look at life with two very different perspectives. If someone were to tell you both to “go right,” you might find yourself drifting away from your dad simply because your two different minds have opposite opinions on which direction “right” is.

I experience this with my dad a lot. I love him. I really do. And most days, I thoroughly enjoy his company, but there are some places we simply don’t connect. (Seriously, algebra lessons were torture.)

So how does one overcome these “backward” struggles? You find a safe place that you can connect.

I relate to my father in carpet warehouses. Not because I am particularly fascinated by carpet, but because it was the one place I could have Dad all to myself. When I was young, I would sometimes be the lucky child selected to make “the drive” into Columbus with Dad. I’d climb into the van feeling very important, and we’d head off to pick up some things for his next job.

Usually, this was followed by a trip to Galyan’s (Dad’s favorite sporting goods store). He even took me there on my 13th birthday because, although he asked me if there was something I’d rather do, dads simply don’t belong at the mall. So to Galyan’s we went, and as he browsed the tents and other camping supplies, I stayed by his side and played with the brand new ring on my finger – the one he had given me as a reminder of our shared love as father and daughter.

A carpet warehouse, a sporting goods store, and a daddy with his daughter. Once I got older, I even figured out how to work in a bite of Chinese. (Hey, if I’m going to meet him on his turf, he can certainly step over to mine every once in awhile. Besides, I think I actually  taught him to like oriental cuisine.) This was our special place. That world in which we connected. And to this day, the smell of brand new carpet brings a smile to my face. It smells just like my daddy.

Where do you connect with your dad? Leave a comment and share your story!

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01/18/2011

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The Family Puzzle

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The Family Puzzle

I was browsing through a well-known publisher’s website yesterday when I noticed something that greatly disturbed me. Under the family/parenting section, there was a link that said “Fathers”, but when I clicked the link, it was empty. So I tried the one that said “Mothers” only to find that it was empty too.

It seems to me that there are plenty of opinions on raising children and surviving parenting teenagers, but somewhere along the way, we have forgotten what it is to be a parent. What role does a parent play in a child’s life? What does the ideal parent/child relationship look like?

Now, I’m not claiming to have a perfect family (far from it actually), but one thing I can say is that we relate well to one another. We’re not just family, but friends as well. Best friends.

What caused my family to be this way? A lot of love, a couple decades of prayer, and a whole heap of God’s grace.

Though I’m no expert, I’m going to spend the rest of January writing about the “Family Puzzle.” The way I see it, families are like one big jigsaw puzzle. At first, nothing seems to make sense, but as you begin to connect the pieces – to mesh as a family – you start to get a glimpse of the bigger picture. And like the most complex puzzles, family unity can take weeks, months, even years to form. But in the end, your efforts will have created a masterpiece, and everyone will know where they “fit” in this unique puzzle that we call “family”.

So check back in for new insights throughout the next couple of weeks as we take a look at relationships within families.

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01/15/2011

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Fairytale Fallacies

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Enchanted Lessons

Enchanted is one of my all-time favorite Disney movies. Being the fairytale fanatic that I am, I absolutely love that there are fairytale classics hidden throughout the movie. But what I love most about the whimsical character of Giselle is that she’s wrong. This “perfect” fairytale character made a mistake. She set her eyes on the wrong Prince and almost didn’t realize it until it was too late.

See, Giselle had been waiting for her Prince for so long that she nearly settled for the first one who arrived on the scene. But she wasn’t made to “finish Edward’s duet”; she was meant to be with Robert. But day after day, she cries, “Edward is coming for me. Edward this… and Edward that…”

I think Giselle represents the typical single woman. We so often set our gaze in the wrong direction. Because we are searching so hard for Prince Charming, we fail to notice that our true Prince has been at our side all along. And while He’s trying to talk some sense into our fantasy-filled heads, we’re too busy singing about “true love’s kiss” to notice.

In my opinion, Enchanted is all about finding a healthy balance between our fairytale dreams and the cynical “welcome to reality” that can be the other extreme. So perhaps true love’s kiss isn’t the most powerful thing in the world, and maybe “happily ever after” is best left in the fairytales. But then again, maybe dreams really do come true, and Prince Charming really does exist – though perhaps not in the form you had expected.

Don’t miss your Prince. Don’t miss your purpose. Release your silly fantasies and realize that true love is closer than you think, because once upon a time, a great and glorious Prince stepped down from His throne with the intention of wooing His bride. For her, He would give His life. Look no farther, young maiden. Your Prince has already come. He has wooed you through the ages, and today He extends His hand and invites you into the dance of eternity. This is the moment you’ve dreamed of all your life. So what are you waiting for?

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01/10/2011

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Embrace Truth

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Drifting Through Life

“I am not angel, nor am I demon. I am not a ghost as some would like to believe. I am a Drifter, something God created in his spare time and then forgot on the fringes of reality.”

Whoever had the idea to put those words on the back cover of Sharon Carter Rogers’ newest book, Drift, knew what they were doing. Those words were so haunting, so captivating and intriguing. Here was a man who thought he had been forgotten by God. Throughout the entire novel, I felt my heart reaching out to this lost creature, yearning to see him restored. And I found myself cheering when he finally reached this conclusion about himself:

“I am not an angel. Not a demon or a ghost. I am something very different, maybe something better. I am a secret, something God created and then hid on the fringes of reality. A tool destined to do as He did, to seek and save that which was lost, to bring lost things back to His hand. I am not an angel. I am a Drifter, and for too long I have forgotten what that means.”

It’s not often that I read a novel where the hero has completely forgotten who he is and what he was meant for. Heroes, after all, have a sense of purpose. But the longer I read this book, the more I understood the Drifter. And the more I understood the Drifter, the more I saw myself in his character. In a way, I feel that this Drifter saved more than just the book heroine. He saved me. You see…

I am not an angel. Not a demon or a ghost. I’m something very different, and yes, even something better. I am a human, something formed by God’s own two hands and sustained by His love. Created for a purpose and destined for here and now. I am not an angel. I am a child of the King of kings, and for too long I have forgotten what that means.

But a certain Drifter reminded me that I do indeed have a purpose, even when I’ve forgotten what that purpose may be. So perhaps I should stop “drifting through life” and live as if I am sure of my purpose, knowing that, in time, my purpose will be fully revealed to me.

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01/01/2011

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Things That Inspire

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Lessons From a Squirrel

I sat in a coffee shop today and watched a squirrel dash back and forth across the parking lot, gathering treasures to bury in the flowerbed. Back and forth he ran, repeating the same mundane task. I wondered if the squirrel ever tired of doing this. Or perhaps the small creature is more content with his current position than I’ve been lately. See, I’ve been feeling a lot like that squirrel. Life has become so mundane, so routine. I haven’t really felt like “living the journey” these past few weeks, and nothing has been able to penetrate this thick wall of “blah.” Nothing, that is, but this squirrel.

Somehow I get the idea that the squirrel wasn’t thinking about much else but the task at hand. I don’t think it’s because he’s a little creature who wasn’t blessed with the brains we humans have. I think it was because, unlike most humans, this little squirrel knew his place in life, and he was content to do what he had been created to do.

Sometimes I have to wonder what I was created to do. Sometimes I wonder if I’m really doing the right thing, or if I’ll ever end up where I’m supposed to be. Part of me wants to cling to that fairytale mentality that says, “Well, of course dreams come true,” while the other part of me is discouraged because those dreams seem so far away.

Today, I needed a squirrel to remind me that I should be content with the here and now. Just as the squirrel stored things up for the future, my life now is preparation for the years to come. So it’s about time for me to take a deep breath and remind myself to live the journey, knowing that God knows what He is doing with my life here and now.

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12/24/2010

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Paradoxes and Mysteries

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Celebrate the Maker

A glimpse of restoration conceived in tiny dreams,

A promise of salvation may not be what it seems.

A prophecy fulfilled, a miracle to be;

A tiny babe was born to save the likes of me.

With an infant cry, the Maker came to earth,

And what was there to be said of this amazing birth?

The angels dance, the heavens sing

To the music of His Glory.

The stars collide, they beam with pride

As they tell the world His Story.

The world stares on so silently

Immortalizing this sacred dream.

Tears stream from the virgin’s eyes.

In heartfelt gratitude she cries…

Celebrating the birth of the Maker.


Miracles are happening – water into wine.

This girl was once deathly ill, but suddenly she’s fine.

He’s here for a purpose; you can see it in His eyes –

So full of love, so knowing, as expansive as the skies.

No one ever spoke with such authority.

The very words that shaped the stars

Caused the blind to see.


The angels glow, the heavens roar

As He sets the plan in motion.

The stars still gleam, and each moonbeam

Is dancing on the ocean.

The world spins in turn with joyful shouts

For the Lord came to walk about.

The people flood to His side.

For a moment they are gratified…

Celebrating the life of the Maker.


A kiss that would betray Him, planted on His face.

So intimate a gesture from one who fell from grace.

A prophecy fulfilled – a Lamb led to the slaughter.

He would die for all mankind, for every son and daughter.

They nailed Him to a wooden tree

Where His wounds would find the lost

And cause the blind to see.


The angels weep, the heavens sob

As the Maker becomes sin.

The stars they hide, as though they’ve died;

The earth trembles from within.

The sun goes out, the sky turns red

As the created declares the Creator dead.

The world is silent once again,

Still and formless as it began…

As it’s mourning the death of the Maker.

For a whole three days the darkness reigns

Then He rose again breaking all my chains,

Because the day that curtain tore in two

He was declaring that nothing could separate Him

From me and you…


So celebrate the birth of the Maker –

The day He came to die.

Celebrate the life of the Maker –

The form of Glory Divine.

Celebrate the death of the Maker –

Who came down from heaven above.

Celebrate for death is not strong

Enough to conquer His love.

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12/22/2010

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Live the Journey

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The Best Christmas “Tradition”

My coworkers keep asking me what my Christmas traditions are. I don’t want to say that we don’t have any traditions because I guess that we do. We’ve celebrated Christmas with my dad’s side of the family as long as I’ve lived. My mom’s side of the family always has their celebration on a different day so they don’t have to compete with the other sides of the family. That’s the one constant that has never changed, but other “traditions” are affected by different circumstances in life.

The earliest tradition I can remember is coming home after our Christmas Eve service and opening one gift in my grandparents’ presence. But that tradition ended the year my grandma died. Three years after that, we left the church in which I was raised, changing the Christmas Eve service tradition as well. I know some people have managed to hold onto their traditions, but I wonder how the same things that entertained them when they were five can still capture their attention when they are twenty-five.

There’s only one “tradition” that will hold my heart for as long as it continues to last. I love the moment on Christmas Day when everyone is called into my grandma’s living room in order to open presents. It’s not the gifts that matter to me anymore, but the joyous anticipation that lights the eyes of my younger cousins when their gifts are set in front of them. It’s the way that all 30+ Snyders fill into one small area in representation of the tight-knit family we truly are. When I’m packed shoulder to shoulder like a sardine with the people who were born to be my best friends, I’m reminded of how blessed I am to be a Snyder. Though presents are nice, I don’t need anything but the smiling faces surrounding me and the baby on my lap. That’s what I find myself counting down for every Christmas.

Three more days. Only three more days…

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12/20/2010

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Embrace Truth

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A Beautiful Viewpoint

I had a comment from a reader saying that she loved others, but hated herself. I found her remark to be quite painful. I wish that I knew this woman. I wish that I knew exactly what she hated about herself so I could set her straight. But since I’m so far removed from her individual situation, I’m going to take a stab at what I believe causes the most self-hatred in a woman. Body image.

The perfect body is something no woman will ever achieve because there’s no definite end. Perfection is a matter of opinion, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For instance, just this morning, a coworker commented that my hair looks pretty pulled back. I personally think it looks better framed around my face. The only reason I pulled it back today was because it was driving me crazy.

See the girl in this picture? Most people probably wouldn’t notice these small details, but sometimes when she looks in the mirror, all she can see is the scar on her forehead from where she tripped and fell as a three-year-old, the bags under her eyes which are not from a lack of sleep but from her father’s genetics, the pimples on her face, and her imperfect smile caused by the teeth she never grew. Most people don’t notice those things about me, but sometimes these “flaws” rush to the forefront of my mind. Every woman sees flaws in herself that she’s willing to overlook in others. In reality, most people don’t look at you with the same critical eye you use to view yourself.

I think there’s a certain wonder in the fact that no one snowflake is the same. Even leaves take on different shapes and sizes. Each one uniquely beautiful, but no two quite the same. There has never been, and never will be, someone exactly like you. I think that’s a cause for celebration. Beauty is not something to be achieved because God is not capable of creating something ugly. From where I stand, you, my friend, are breathtakingly beautiful because beauty is not a goal to reach, but a point of view.

Take a look at yourself with new eyes. I think you’ll be surprised by what you find.

Want a little more information on beauty? Check out what one of my favorite wordpress authors has to say about the subject.

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12/17/2010

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Things That Inspire

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Who’s Mentoring Who?

Towards the beginning of this year, a friend of mine approached me and asked if I would be willing to step out with her and start a Bible study for some of the high school girls at our church. Since that age group had been on my heart for quite some time, I was eager to accept her challenge. Since that moment, I’ve grown rather attached to this small group of girls. Today I’ve been watching the development of a debate on one of their facebook pages. One girl posted a note that was apparently controversial – at least to this person who didn’t believe that Jesus actually belongs in Christmas as her note suggested. I found her scriptural responses stirring feelings of pride in my chest that somewhat resembled a mother watching her baby learn to walk.

I wanted to let her know how insanely proud of her I was in that moment, so I sent her a message that told her what I felt. She wrote back thanking me for the encouragement, and shared the verse that had encouraged her in the midst of this debate. She then quoted Matthew 10:16-22 where Jesus talks about sending His disciples out as sheep among wolves and how He will give them the words to say when they are brought before governors and kings.

Yep. Mother watching her baby learn to walk. Except my precious little one just sprouted wings. One day, I’m going to lose this mentality that I’m the one who’s doing the teaching, because I’m often floored by those I think I’m ministering to. Children have taught me more than I’ve ever taught them, and now I have this teenager who is suddenly wise beyond her years. I guess it’s because Jesus did what He promised in Matthew 10. He gave her the words she needed to say, and she allowed the Father to speak through her lips. (Or, in this case, her fingers.)

Sometimes I simply have to wonder… Who’s mentoring who?