Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Archives for March 2014

Why it's been a little quiet around here

Twice in the last two days, I’ve been the recipient of quiet time. As I write, my husband has whisked the children away to the barbershop (for him) so I can have some quiet in the house time before the dinner/homework/bath/bed routine sucks the life out of me. This quiet solitude is usually a luxury, though I had a few blessed hours to myself yesterday as well, also unexpected. (And I wrote almost 1,500 words on my novel and maybe, just maybe, can see the faintest glimpse of the end!)

Quiet is something I crave but not often something I get.

And the last few weeks have been more full than normal. Which is why I’ve been a little more quiet on the blog than I intended.

But I realized that I left you with this look at my sometimes messy world with no follow-up, and I didn’t want to cause any alarm. Later that week, I came down with a sinus/head cold thing that put me behind in preparing for house guests and a six-year-old’s birthday party. Understandably, the blog slipped off the “to do” list.

I never stopped blogging in my head, though. I probably “wrote” a dozen posts while going through my daily life duties, and none of those will see the light of day. Maybe, though, I have a few spare thoughts to share. I realize it’s okay to disappear for a while, but writing (and blogging) are life-giving to me, and I’ve missed the chance to regularly share what’s in my head.

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So, the girl turned 6, and the celebration lasted a week, and I can still remember her entrance into the world and the countless ways she changed us forever. To see her now, at 6, in all her emotions and feelings and zest for life, I’m reminded how quickly the days and years pass and how much of what we see in her now is what we will see in her years from now. Oh, how I dream about the ways God will use her unique (and utterly foreign to me) personality.

And speaking of personalities, I took a personality test for the first official time. It’s part of a leadership development small group at our church, and though I suspected certain things about the way I operate in the world, the test and its results were eye-opening. Shocking, really. Not because they didn’t make sense but because they did. Knowing my natural inclinations when it comes to living in the world helps me not to feel bad that I’m not like other people and makes me aware of areas where I can stretch myself a little more. (Oh, and if you’re into that sort of thing, I’m an INFJ.)

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It snowed today. And I’m ready for spring. This is our first spring in this house, so it’s been a fun game to see where the flowers are going to come up. The kids skip around the house and yell excitedly when they spot a new bud or bloom. I’ve never been terribly “green” when it comes to plants and gardening, but I want my kids to love the outdoors and nature and to know how to take care of it. So, this year, we’re going to start small and try a few things.

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A bunch of balloons landed in our driveway today. And when I say a bunch, think grapes on a vine. The purple-blue-green bundle blew into our yard and settled next to our neighbor’s porch. I looked out the window and exclaimed to our son, “Corban, what is that?” My husband rescued the balloons and brought them inside. (I really hope they weren’t on their way to a birthday party. We live on a busy street and would have no idea how to track down the owner.) Sometimes joy is like this. An unexpected burst of color and fun in the midst of your ordinary day. I want to be this for people and look for this in my day.

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For every birthday my kids have had so far, I’ve made them a cake according to the theme they request. Some years have turned out better than others. This year, she wanted an Ariel cake. I’ve already done the doll with a bowl cake skirt so I wanted to do something different. I wandered the craft stores looking for inspiration (after spending significant time on Pinterest) and this was the result.

Izzy cake 6th

I frequently tell people I’m not crafty because I have not a lot of patience for kids’ rainbow looms and Pinteresty things that look fun but would probably drive me crazy. But wandering through an arts and crafts store revived my creativity. I could almost feel the possibilities in there. Everything in there has the potential to become something beautiful, and no two people would create the exact same thing, even if they had identical supplies.

When I’m feeling stuck in my writing or maybe even just a little hopeless about life, I think I’ll wander the arts and crafts aisles, even if I don’t intend to buy anything.

So, what have you been up to?

Why I don't usually read this kind of book (but I'm not sorry I did): Review of A Fall of Marigolds by Susan Meissner

Reading a book by Susan Meissner is like treating yourself to fine chocolate. Her last work was a masterpiece that left me aching to return to Italy. She is a masterful storyteller.

So, when I knew she had a new book releasing, I didn’t hesitate to enter a Goodreads giveaway for a copy, even though I knew next to nothing about the story. And I won!

fall of marigolds A Fall of Marigolds has been sitting on my shelf for a few months while I tackled other reviews, but I recently finished it and can easily say this book makes my top whatever list of best books I’ve ever read.

The book opens in Manhattan 2011 with Taryn, a woman whose husband died in the Twin Towers on 9/11. She works in a specialty fabric store and lives above it with her 9-year-old daughter. A picture of her from the day of the tragedy surfaces suddenly and the quiet life she thought she’d gotten on with is disturbed.

Intertwined with her story is that of Clara, a nurse working on Ellis Island in 1911. She was a witness to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire and has come to the island to escape the memories of her loss that day.

Both stories are steeped in heavy sadness, and honestly, I’ve been avoiding stories, documentaries and movies about 9/11 since the day it happened because I can sometimes still feel the weight of the national despair. I don’t often lean in to pain, and I might have been more hesitant to read this story if I’d known that was part of it.

And I won’t lie. This story is not all feel-good. There are heart-wrenching scenes as these two women, separated by a century of time, allow themselves to grieve the past and open their lives to the present and future. I had to set it down a few times and let the feelings sink in and pass before starting again.

The beauty of this story, though, is the thread of hope woven through the tragedies. Meissner does not avoid the reality of how these women were affected nor does she let them stay in their comfortable grief. When the story was finished, I felt full in my soul. I may have even released a satisfied sigh. This is one of those books that is not so much an escape as it is examination, helping readers to see that whatever hardship seems to be at the forefront, a larger, stronger force is at work.

After reading A Fall of Marigolds, I feel ready to explore other 9/11 literature, and I’d certainly read this book again.