Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Cinderella Mom

If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…

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This is 40

I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…

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Beauty on the Backroads {or Why I Changed the Name of my Blog}

I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…

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Leap of faith

Week 5, Day 2. Tiredness took over before we even hit the street this morning. Low to mid 40s when we loaded up the jogging stroller. Our session called for two 8-minute runs with a 5-minute walk in between. The first 8 minutes, I willed myself to not look at the stopwatch too soon, and when I did, nearly five minutes had passed. I was so encouraged that the next three minutes passed pretty quickly. The second 8 minute-run, however, not so much. I looked at the time too early, so the remainder sort of dragged.

But once again, at the end of the run, I felt good physically. So, looking ahead to our next training session, the 2-mile no-walking day, it’s not a matter of knowing my body can handle it; it’s convincing my brain that I can do it. We’re fast approaching the time when we’ll lose the walking altogether. I’m scared, but I know if we don’t make this leap now, I won’t want to make it at all.

No turning back now.

Sometimes, you’re just gonna get hurt

Isabelle (she’s 2) decided to put dishes away this morning. I didn’t ask her to do it. It was just part of her 90-mph-morning energy burn. She found the cowboy hat cookie cutter I’d used earlier in the week on her turkey and roast beef sandwich and excitedly took it to the cupboard where it goes. She grabbed the handle, pulled hard and smacked herself in the face with it. Wailing ensued. But a Hello Kitty ice pack calmed her.

In her zest for life, her eagerness to help, Isabelle got hurt. She wasn’t expecting to get hurt; it just happened.

Am I equally as willing to give my all to help, to squeeze the life out of life at the risk of getting hurt?

I don’t know if this exactly applies or not, but this FFH song that’s out right now, “Undone,” has really been challenging me. Especially the words of the chorus:

Come undone, surrender is stronger
I don’t need to be the hero tonight
We all want love we all want honor
Nobody wants to pay the asking price

That last part, that’s what gets me. Am I willing to pay the price for what I really want out of life? Am I willing to get hurt?

I’ve heard Christians talk about taking calculated risks, and I get what they’re saying, that we shouldn’t do stupid stuff, but adding the word “calculated” to the word “risk” seems like watering down the whole concept. I think I could talk myself out of just about anything in the name of “calculated risk.”

I don’t want to be careless with my life and my decisions, but sometimes I think I’m too careful about everything. I’m not sure careful cuts it in the kingdom of God, but I don’t have any Scripture to back up that theory right now. Jesus does tell people to count the cost before deciding to follow Him, so maybe I’m way off base here.

If nothing else, a simple boo-boo this morning has given me something to chew on, spiritually and mentally speaking.