Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

reading

5 on Friday: inspiring quotes from books I've read recently

Sometimes, a story says it all. And lately I’ve found that while reading fiction, a line of text or a word picture will hit directly where I’m at and speak to my soul. Here’s a sampling of some quotes that have inspired me and caused me to think, from books that I’ve read in the last couple of months. I recommend each of these books for the storylines, truths and soul-stirring writing.

  • Like so many things Henry had wanted in life it had arrived a little damaged. Imperfect. But he didn’t care; this was all he wanted. Something to hope for and he’d found it. It didn’t matter what condition it was in. —Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie FordOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
  • “See that light?” he asked me when the firefly lit up his hand. “This light is bright enough to light up a little speck of the night sky so a  man can see it a ways away. That’s what God expects us to do. We’re to be lights in the dark, cold days that are this world. Like fireflies in December.” — Fireflies in December by Jennifer Erin Valent
  • Eliza knew she should go below. But she had never been very good at obeying authority. Besides, she’d rather be blown to bits on deck than die below cramped in the rank belly of the ship. —Forsaken Dreams by Marylu Tyndall
  • Be still and I will fight for you. Only instead of comfort, the words brought fear and doubt. Because as much as she wanted to believe them, the Lord did not fight for Micah when she’d begged Him to more than four years ago. She knew firsthand that her definition of deliverance did not match up with God’s. A small part of her thought maybe she was better off fighting for herself. But the words whispered over and over again. Be still and I will fight for you. — Wishing on Willows by Katie Ganshert.
  • She’d called her young infatuation love, but when she looked into her heart now, nothing there resembled those girlish feelings. Everything was so much richer and deeper–as if what had come before was simply an artist’s preliminary sketch, void of detail and color, and over the last few weeks, that same artist had brushed the canvas of her heart with masterful strokes, creating a vibrant work that left her breathless. — Short-Straw Bride by Karen Witemeyer

Saturday smiles: springs in the desert edition

As you read this, I’m sipping a Starbucks, maybe nibbling a scone, chatting with a friend/fellow writer/mentor, all of which make me smile. And believe me, I’m in need of some reasons to smile.

I’ve never actually been to a desert. At least not the no-water-in-sight-sun-beating-down-for-days kind. I remember driving through the desert to see a national park, maybe in Utah, maybe in Arizona. But I’m thinkin’ our deserts here in America have nothing on say, the Sahara. I can only imagine what it’s like to literally thirst for water in the desert, or desperately seek relief from a hot sun.

Figuratively speaking, I’m so there. Our season of financial dryness — no full time work, dwindling savings, little government assistance — lingers with not much sign that it will end. This was a roller coaster week for me with a few highs (an unexpected $20 to put gas in the car; finding 4 cans of salmon in the cupboard that I didn’t know we had; progress on my current writing project; kindness and generosity of friends) and a comparable number of lows (running out of butter and Crisco, staples in my efforts to bake more things at home instead of buy them; possible car troubles; stubborn kids). I’m no big fan of roller coasters in real life. About once every few years I think, why not, and ride one only to remember why I don’t usually ride roller coasters.

I’m looking for peace. Steadiness. Certainty.

Most days, I come up empty. Until I sit and listen for God’s voice. He’s not speaking loud and clear these days. He’s whispering. In code. I’m desperate to crack it, but it would seem He’s not ready to reveal the message yet. Instead of a message, He grants me the things I can’t get on my own. Peace. Assurance. Calmness of mind. Truth. Hope. Joy. Without Him, these things are in short supply.

So, I take note of the little smiley things about the week. Those little springs that give me momentary relief from the heat and pressure of wandering in the desert.

For starters, my husband, Phil, has been phenomenal (or maybe that’s Phil-nomenal) these last couple of weeks as I wrap up a writing project. He puts dishes away and does laundry. On Thursday he swept and tidied the living room (hardwood floors and one sorta nasty rug) while we were at a playdate. Yesterday, he deep cleaned the stove top. It sparkles. He watches the kids while I work. And this week we considered switching roles. I applied for a job. For which I apparently have a preliminary phone interview later this month. Phil is excited about the Mr. Mom role. I’m excited at the possibility of leaving the house on a regular basis. Above all, I’m grateful we’re a team.

And my kids. I complain and whine and groan about how hard this parenting gig is, but these two are creative and cute and funny. (I’m a pushover for jammies. Maybe because I’m reminded of their sweetness when they are quietly — and finally — in slumberland.)

They say ridiculous (and sometimes profound) things like “I’m overwhelmed. Do you know what overwhelmed is? It’s when you’re praying and you overflow.” That, from a 4-year-old.  And the way the 2-year-old prays for our food at mealtimes is sweet and always punctuated by a loud “GOODBYE” after the “amen.” Watch out, world, we have some enthusiastic ones here.

Books make me happy. Last weekend we went to a book sale in town. The kids each got to spend a dollar they earned for participating in the Summer Reading Program. They came home with three books each. Phil and I scored this box, which really reflects our book tastes in a box.

History. Christian fiction. Bible study. Atheist primer. Humor. Drinking. (Mainly the coffee, tea and soda variety.)

We had some awesome playdates with friends this week. The kids got a lot more social time than they’re used to, and even though I have work to finish, it was good to emerge from the cocoon and speak with real live humans again. (I tend toward hermit on the social scale.)

I’ll leave you with a few more smiles.

And if you need a reason to smile this week, you can borrow some of mine.