Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

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Saturday smiles: Words and heroes edition

A book sale with 40,000 used books. Sounds delightful, right? And, oh, it was. For the most part. Somewhat overwhelming, but we walked away with a box of books for $15. If we go back today, it’s $10 a box, but that might be excessive. (As if buying a box of books when you haven’t fully unpacked the boxes of books in your new house isn’t already excessive. Don’t judge us. We’re book nerds.)

Also, this.

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I got copies of the Thriving Family edition in which my first of three articles appears. Name in print=giddiness. (If you get the magazine, I’m on page 27.)

Tomorrow, Phil and I are heading to Philly to catch a Phillies game so he can cross another stadium off his list and buy a shirt to add to his collection. Last night he informed me that the new interim manager of the Phillies is Ryne Sandburg. (SHRIEK!) Because the only thing that could make sitting in a stadium watching a baseball game between two teams you care nothing about is sitting in the same stadium as one of your childhood baseball heroes. I mean, he won’t know I’m there or anything, but that might be enough reason to wear a Cubs shirt and shout obnoxiously. (Of course, if you know me at all, you’ll know that either of those things would bring WAY too much attention to me so it won’t happen.)

And in the last two days, I’ve seen 6 hot air balloons in the sky. I love hot air balloons.

We’re headed to a missions aviation fair today at a local airport. Looking forward to seeing the kids’ reactions to planes up close.

5 on Friday: A few of my favorite things

Months ago I started this feature on the blog, mostly because I like lists. (I write stuff on lists just so I can cross them off.)

This week: five of my (current) favorite things.

1. Nutella. Or the knock-off Aldi brand of Nutella. I’m not a Nutella expert but the generic stuff is good. And maybe, just maybe, I’ve been eating it off a spoon while I wait for the bread to toast.

2. Cutthroat Kitchen. I’ve only seen one episode on Food Network, starring Alton Brown’s evil twin (not really, but the look he’s got going for this show makes him look less food-nerd and more evil mastermind), but I’m hooked. We have access to Food Network right now thanks to a cable deal we got when we moved, and it. is. dangerous.

3. Church. We’re having so much fun connecting with our new church community, and the kids are super comfortable with the teachers and other people they meet. This week, after watching a baptism at church, they baptized all their stuffed animals in a tub full of “baptist water.” (Not real water.) And at least once a week, they “play church.”

4. Aldi. I’ve sort of rediscovered this grocery store. Not only do they sell food cheap, they sell good food cheap, and they have a lot of variety. I can get orange crackers (think goldfish only in penguin shapes) that don’t have any artificial colors in them. And the aforementioned chocolate hazelnut spread. And goat cheese (don’t ask). I’m always amazed at the total bill. A cart load of groceries for half the cost of other grocery stores. Okay, Aldi endorsement done.

5. Country roads. I’ve never really considered myself a country girl. I grew up in town. It was a smallish town, but still in town as opposed to in the country. Where we live now is borderline: used to be country but now it’s developed. When traveling around, we have options–we can take the highway or we can take back roads through residential areas. About 90 percent of the time, I’m on the back roads, avoiding the highway and its stress, even if I could get somewhere 5 or 10 minutes faster. Maybe I’m really a country girl at heart. Or maybe I’m just getting old. (No offense, of course, to any “old” people I know. I’m embracing my inner geezer.)

Sneak peek at a new book, and a chance to win a Kindle fire!

In a couple of weeks, I’m posting a review of Anita Higman’s Winter in Full Bloom. A really wonderful book.

But I don’t want you to miss the chance to attend her Facebook party and enter to win a Kindle Fire.

The details of the giveaway are below. And come back in two weeks for my review!

Anita Higman‘s latest novel, Winter in Full Bloom, has just released. She’s teamed up with her publisher, River North Fiction, for a fun giveaway and a Facebook Author Chat Party on August 29th.

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One grand prize winner will receive:

  • A Kindle Fire HD
  • Winter in Full Bloom by Anita Higman

Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends on August 28th.Winner will be announced August 29th at the Winter in Full Bloom Author Chat Party on Facebook. During the party Anita will be hosting a book chat, talking about family, announcing the winner of the Kindle Fire, and giving away a ton of books, gift certificates, and more. Oh, and she’ll also be giving party goers an exclusive look at her next book.

So grab your copy of Winter in Full Bloom and join Anita on the evening of August 29th for a chance to connect and make some new friends. (If you haven’t read the book, don’t let that stop you from coming!)

DON’T MISS A MOMENT OF THE FUN; RSVP TODAY. HOPE TO SEE YOU ON THE 29th!

The adventure continues: Review of Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold by Joyce Magnin

harriet beamerHarriet Beamer is a hoot.

The spunky 72-year-old who made a cross country tip by bus in Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus is back with a new adventure, Harriet Beamer Strikes Gold, in her new California community. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from Zondervan in exchange for my review as part of the Booksneeze program.) As she settles in at her son’s house and tries to make herself useful, Harriet visits a gold mine, which sets her wheels a-turnin’. So when she meets a young girl at a cafe who introduces her to her dad and an investment opportunity to become the financial backer of a gold mine, Harriet goes all in. Without telling her son and daughter-in-law, of course.

The adventure is pure Harriet–full of blunders and grace as she learns what’s really important in life.

Harriet is a charming character and I enjoy Magnin’s imagination. Harriet’s words and actions are as believable as they are loveable. If you like Betty White, then check out Harriet Beamer. She’s wholesome, well-intentioned and independent. And let’s not forget Humphrey, the Basset Hound, who has few lines but often steals the scene.

I liked the first Harriet adventure better, but I’m glad to have read this one and peek at the continuing adventures of Harriet.

And who knows? Maybe there are more along the way.

The fruit of 'release'

Eight months ago, I planted a word in my heart, hoping it would grow into something I could see throughout the year. OneWord2013_Release

In the beginning, it sprouted visible shoots. I started seeing evidence of something happening, something I couldn’t explain or coerce or make happen. I’m no gardener, but I’ve known the thrill of planting a seed in the soil, watering it, and faithfully waiting for growth. This One Word 365 process has been a lot like that. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I chose “release” as my word, but I knew it would be a year of letting go. In big ways and small ways. And as the months have passed, not only has my awareness of “release” grown, but I’ve changed.

And now it’s August. And I haven’t reflected on “release” in months, but I’m finding that the tender shoots I saw months ago have grown into full-blown fruit-bearing plants.

Release is alive, and my life is bearing fruit. <Click to tweet>

I’ve seen it on Twitter.

Forcing the question: What am I holding on to that God wants me to release?

In the past two months, we packed up the house we’d been living in for almost five years and moved to a city about 30 miles away. To a new place, a new community, a fresh start. We’ve taken load after load of stuff we no longer use or want to thrift stores. We junked more than I’d care to admit. In our last house, we experienced a flood that forced us to let go of things we cherished. Even now, I’m learning that memories are the best treasure.

Most surprising, I think, has been the recent revelation. That “release” doesn’t only apply to me. That sometimes I have to release others to their actions and behaviors, to God’s grace and mercy, because it’s too draining for me to carry their burdens for them. “Let go and let God” was one of the first pieces of Godly advice I ever received, and it fits in some circumstances.

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I can’t change other people, so I’ll lend my strength where it can do some good. First and foremost, in me.

“Release” was everywhere over the past few months. I found its influence in numerous books.

In James Rubart’s Book of Days.

Letting go wasn’t letting go of her. It was releasing himself to live whatever life he had left, with whatever memories he could hold on to.

And in Julie Cantrell’s Into the Free.

It’s hard, letting go of the need to control things. My instinct is to want to feel safe, to keep my feet on the ground and my eyes open for signs of danger.

In Shauna Niequist’s Bread & Wine.

But if the last few years have taught me anything at all, it’s that the very things you think you need most desperately are the things that can transform you the most profoundly when you do finally decide to release them.

I’m still chewing on those words.

As I am these ones from Brennan Manning’s The Ragamuffin Gospel.

The grace to let go and let God be God flows from trust in His boundless love.

And pages from Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts. Here are just a few of her words that touched me.

Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will. And I can empty. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust. I can let go.

I humbly open my hand to release my will to receive His.

And in this passage from Winter in Full Bloom by Anita Higman:

You know a long time ago when I was younger and more daring I went zip-lining across a canyon. I don’t remember a whole lot about the experience except something the guide said to me before I stepped off my safe little perch to fly across the canyon. He said, ‘Trust the harness.’ And that helped me to let go. I wasn’t nearly as afraid when I went across that chasm. You need to trust me, Lily, but more importantly, you need to trust the One who made you. The One who has you safely in His arms … sort of like trusting that harness. It really makes the letting go a lot easier.

Well said.

The year isn’t over, yet I can already taste the sweetness of this fruit.

5 on Friday: Reasons to try (and love) Chick-fil-A

Okay, I know this is going to look a little biased since my husband works there and all. But I am falling hard for Chick-fil-A.

He doesn't have to wear a bow tie; he chooses to. And I think he wears it well.

He doesn’t have to wear a bow tie; he chooses to. And I think he wears it well.

We actually started liking the restaurant before my husband’s job there. If you’ve never tried it (what are you waiting for??) here are 5 reasons I think you should. (No particular order.)

1. The food is fresh. Lemonade from freshly squeezed lemons. Chicken that tastes and looks like a chicken breast you’d cook at home. (Or better if you cook chicken like I do.) Out-of-the-park salads. I have friends with varying food allergies and they choose Chick-fil-A over other fast food restaurants because they can accommodate the allergy. Also, they have the best ice. I know, weird, right? But I would go there just for a cup of ice.

2. The customer service is unmatched among similar restaurants. The first time we went to a Chick-fil-A, we had kids in tow, which is always an adventure when eating out. A friendly man helped us, greeted us, and our food was delivered to our seats. I’m a frequent visitor now, and I haven’t met a grumpy or apathetic team member yet. And I believe them when they say “my pleasure” when I say “thank you” for something. It’s a noticeable difference from the “yep” I get from other fast food cashiers.

3. The play area. Okay, this one’s for parents, but it’s been our lifesaver some days. For under $4 the kids and I can get an afternoon beverage and they can play in the play area while I soak up some air conditioning and read a book. (Translation: I need some space.) It can be crazy depending on the time of day and your personal Chick-fil-A location, but it’s one of our go-to spots.

4. Chicken for breakfast is new and different. And tasty. It’s a little known fact that Chick-fil-A serves breakfast, and I’ll admit I was skeptical. I love breakfast, and there’s another fast food place that I usually choose for breakfast when we’re eating out. But no more. Chick-fil-A’s biscuits are better than homemade. And chicken for breakfast is surprisingly good. Not every day, but seriously, give it a try.

5. They’re community-minded and closed on Sundays. Maybe that doesn’t matter so much to you but as the wife of a service director, I’m grateful that he definitely doesn’t have to work Sundays. Chick-fil-A cares about its workers and the communities in which they live. They’re locally owned and operated, and they treat their workers well. They build community in the communities they serve.

I know Chick-fil-A has been the center of controversy in years past, and while the founders are Christians and the leaders express their opinions in ways that sometimes alienate groups, those are not my reasons for supporting Chick-fil-A. So, if there’s one near you and you haven’t visited yet, seriously, what are you waiting for?

A new take on a classic suspense: Review of Misery Loves Company by Rene Gutteridge

There was a time in my life when I read everything Stephen King wrote, and Misery was one of my favorites. (Can anyone forget Kathy Bates’ performance in the movie version? She took crazy to a sort of likable level.)

misery loves companyThis new book, Misery Loves Company, by Rene Gutteridge is like Misery but flip flopped. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from Tyndale House in exchange for my honest review through the Tyndale Blog Network.) Instead of the author being kidnapped by his biggest fan, the roles are reversed. Juliet is a grieving widow and blogger who calls herself Patrick Reagan’s biggest fan. But she hasn’t been thrilled with his last three books, and she tells the blogging world what she honestly thinks about his latest offering. The same day, she wakes up in a secluded cabin with no memory of how she got there and she finds herself face-to-face with her favorite author, who is also grieving the loss of his wife three years earlier. As Juliet tries to figure out why she’s there and whether Reagan means her any harm, her husband’s partner on the police force begins searching for her. What finally brings them all together is shocking and life-altering.

Some might call this an unoriginal work because it feeds off of King’s original idea, but I found it clever and engaging. Gutteridge retains elements of the original story without the gore. (For example, you know the part in Misery where the author’s feet get chopped off so he can’t escape? Well, Gutteridge gives Juliet a serious case of frostbite so her feet are rendered useless.)

It’s still a thrilling, and a bit terrifying, read. It’s risky to take on a similar story from a master like King, but it paid off for Gutteridge.

Click here for a sample chapter.

How to deal with the messes of life

The following post contains use of the word s***. I don’t use profanity prolifically or gratuitously, but in this case, it’s appropriate. If the word offends you, I’m asking that you skip this post and come back another day.

Sunday morning dawned with the hope of a new day. It was our first Sunday together as a family in our new house when we didn’t have any church responsibilities other than showing up on time and joining the rest of the congregation. We’d had pizza for supper the night before and some family time. I was full in many ways, and I had visions of easing into my day. Sipping coffee on the porch while reading the Bible. A quiet, uninterrupted communion with God. I escorted the kids to the kitchen for breakfast while my dream morning played out in my head.

And that’s when I remembered the pizza that had fallen off the stove onto the floor between the fridge and the stove.

When I looked for it, it was gone. I woke up my husband and asked if he’d remembered to thow it out after the stove cooled. He said, “no.” I went back to the kitchen and discovered mouse droppings on the stove, on the counters. I sighed and began whining internally about how unfair it was that on Sunday, the Sabbath, I had to clean my kitchen counters of mouse droppings when what I really wanted to do was commune with God while drinking coffee and reading the Bible and sitting on the porch.

My husband took care of the kids’ breakfast needs while I reluctantly immersed myself in clean-up.

***

A few weeks earlier, on another Sunday morning, my husband and I took a walk through our new neighborhood. We’d moved in the day before, the kids were visiting their grandparents, and we had plenty of time before church. We’d been wanting to explore the nearby park together, so that’s the direction we headed.

It was a warm morning, but I drank coffee anyway, because really, that’s what I do most mornings. We kept our pace leisurely and just enjoyed being together and discovering our new community. As we neared the park, I took in the greenery. I love nature, and having a park with a creek and trees and ponds and fountains nearby is like having a little bit of heaven within walking distance.

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We rounded the ponds and came upon groups of geese–mamas, papas and babies–loitering on the banks. And the path was unsurprisingly covered in goose poop.

Walking the path became less serene as we took unnatural steps to avoid stepping in it. I found myself looking down at the path instead of out at the water and the trees. The second half of our walk was more about not getting messy than enjoying the beauty around us.

***

Shit happens.

It’s a phrase that’s been around as long as I can remember. And that scene from Forrest Gump always makes me smile when Forrest unknowingly gives the guy looking for a T-shirt slogan his solid-gold idea.

And it’s true. Look at the world today and some days, that’s the only way to describe it.

Shit happens.

But that’s not the end of the story.

***

I cursed the mouse as I emptied the counters, donned gloves and began removing the droppings and vigorously washing the counters and dishes. I tried not to imagine germs and toxins and death particles invading my house. (Yes, I have an overactive imagination.) I felt tears forming as I lamented the loss of my easy Sabbath.

And then reality hit. Or maybe it was the Holy Spirit whispering in my ear.

Do you think you can’t commune with God, here in your kitchen while serving your family?

I’m reading The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, and I know the answer. I can commune with God anywhere.

My thoughts turned away from the task, though I still battled the whine.

Why did I think I deserved an easy start to my Sabbath? Would I become more like Christ while sipping coffee and reading the Bible on the porch, or by humbling myself, denying myself and serving my family by performing this icky task?

I didn’t want this. But this is what I got.

And as I cleaned up the droppings, I wondered how many people start every day with the equivalent of cleaning shit off the kitchen counters, with no end in sight? How many people walk through their day with shit-covered shoes because they don’t have any other choice? And how many of us are oblivious because we’re living a life of relative ease?

I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want hardship. I want an easy life. A healthy life. An all-my-bills-are-paid-and-then-some life.

But that’s not the life I’m promised in Christ.

Jesus says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

For some of us, overcoming happens here in this life. For some of us, we’ll never see it on this side of heaven.

***

The night before he died, Jesus ate a meal with his closest friends. During the meal, he got up and washed his disciples feet. I don’t always get how significant this was. The disciples’ feet would have been covered in dirt and probably shit. Think of all the animals on the roads. Sometimes I think we pretty up this story a little too much. Jesus washed away the shit. The grime. The stuff they picked up unknowingly while traveling. Then he asks, “Do you understand what I have done for you?”

I’d be the first to say, “No.” I still don’t get it. How God becomes man and enters the mess of humanity, takes on the worst of what humans have to offer, and redeems it.

“I’ve washed your feet. Now wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example than you should do as I have done for you. … No servant is greater than his master.”

The Gospel of John lays it out there. The example Jesus set was to get involved in people’s lives, dirty though they might be. To touch lepers. To speak to women as if they were human beings. To approach the demon-possessed unafraid.

Cleanliness is next to godliness. That’s another saying I’ve heard. But I think I’d call that bullshit.

The Psalms say the Lord is close to the broken-hearted. I think he’s also close to those whose lives are a mess, for whatever reason.

***

Weeks after our first walk through the park, we went back with the kids. We warned them about the goose poop. Our son wanted to ride in the wagon. We let him. As we rounded the bend where we first encountered the massive amounts of poop, I began to watch where I walked. I told our daughter to do the same. She took a few careful steps and then began skipping and running along the path, with no further thought to the goose poop on the path.

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Shit happens.

I can choose to walk through life carefully avoiding getting any of it on me while missing the joys of life. Or I can skip through life, enjoying the world around me, shit or no shit.

I may not have a choice about where the shit falls. Or when. Or how much.

But I can choose how I respond to it.

5 on Friday: Things my kids say that make me laugh

After a crazy couple of months that involved finding a place to live, packing, securing a place to live, more packing, sending the kids to spend two weeks with their grandparents, more packing, moving day, unpacking, a trip to Nashville and returning as a family of four to our new place, and a writing deadline, I’m easing my way back into my blogging schedule (which is subject to change at a moment’s notice!).

Watching the ducks at the park near our house.

Watching the ducks at the park near our house.

I give you the return of 5 on Friday with things my kids have said recently that leave me laughing weeks later.

1. In the car, while playing knock-knock jokes with Izzy, I pulled out my Kindle to see if I had a knock-knock joke book because they’re hard to think of on the spot. She says, “You don’t need to use your Kindle; you use your mind.” Touche.

2. Also while in the car, Corban wanted a snack. I said, “We have pretzels.” He replies, “I’ll need the whole bag.” He’s 3 1/2 going on 13, apparently.

3. Corban’s turn for knock-knock jokes. Corban: Knock Knock. Izzy: Who’s there? Corban: No one. He left. (This might be my favorite knock-knock joke of all time.)

4. We recently registered Isabelle for kindergarten. As we drove away from the district office, she said, while smiling wide, “Can I go to kindergarten tomorrow?” Soon enough, child. Soon enough.

5. My husband killed a wasp the other night and told the kids that it was twitching. Isabelle pondered this and wanted to know why. Corban says, “That is so interesting.” Then he looks down at his hands and in a shocked voice says, “Hey ma! I have four big fingers on my hands!” (Squirrel!)

What if your dad wasn't who you thought? Review of Jesus, My Father, the CIA and Me by Ian Morgan Cron

I’m a new fan of Ian Cron’s writing. Brilliant is all I can say. His latest novel was a page turner I couldn’t get enough of which led me to his first book, a memoir (of sorts, as he calls it), Jesus, My Father, the CIA and Me. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from Thomas Nelson through the Booksneeze program in exchange for my review.)

jesus father cia coverFirst of all, how do you resist a title like that? It sounds like the setup to a great joke when in fact, it’s major components of Cron’s life as the son of an alcoholic who seemingly couldn’t hold a job but was really working for the CIA. Cron chronicles his journey of faith from childhood through his own bout with alcoholism and beyond. Though he offers the disclaimer that he might not remember things exactly as they happened, the story still comes across as honest. Cron pulls no punches when he talks about his drinking or his spiritual life or what it’s like to reconcile the father you thought you knew with the man others knew him to be, and to do it after he died.

Though painful to read at times, Cron’s humor comes through, making the book a journey with ups and downs, just like real life.

I wouldn’t call it a “feel good” book but you don’t come away discouraged, either. Cron’s story offers hope for those who struggle with absent or abusive fathers, addictions and doubt, among other things. His is an “I’ve been there, too” kind of story–the kind we need to hear more often from our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Add this one to your “to-read” pile. You won’t be sorry you did.