Beth is here to share a bit about her latest release. She and her publisher have offered to give away an print copy of the book (US ONLY). You can enter by using the Rafflecopter link at the end of the post. (Giveaway ends May 9, 2019. If you are the randomly chosen winner, I'll contact you.)
5 Truths to Help You Embrace Life’s
Imperfections
by Beth K. Vogt
We can waste a lot of time and energy
in the pursuit of perfection.
Attaining the perfect look.
Achieving the perfect job.
Raising the perfect family.
Being the perfect friend.
We’ll save ourselves a lot of
frustration if we realize sooner rather than later that life is filled to
overflowing with imperfect people that lead to imperfect relationships. Those
same imperfect people--and yes, I’m one of them and so are you--lead to imperfect
schools and imperfect jobs. This is reality. We may not like it, but when we
abandon the pursuit of perfection, we realize life can be both imperfect and
good.
Here are five quotes to help convince
you to embrace your imperfect life:
"The truth is: Belonging starts with self-acceptance. Your level of belonging, in fact, can never be greater than your level of self-acceptance, because believing that you're enough is what gives you the courage to be authentic, vulnerable, and imperfect."
Brene Brown (1965-), American research professor and author
Our ability to accept ourselves for who we are--both our strengths and weaknesses--influences so much in our lives: Our perspective. Our relationships with others. The choices we make. When we realize it's okay to be imperfect, we don't waste time trying to hide our flaws because we're worried we won't be accepted by others.
“Imperfection is relatable.”
Lauren Conrad (1986–), fashion designer and
author
No one is perfect--but we’ve all met
people who pretend they are. I’ve often told my friends, “I don’t hang out with
perfect people. I have nothing in common with them.” There’s usually a “me,
too” moment of shared laughter because now we have permission to be real. To
relax and be our honest, imperfect selves—and that’s when relationship happens.
“There is a kind of beauty in imperfection.”
Conrad
Hall (1926–2003), American cinematographer
"I realized that I don't have to be perfect. All I have to do is show up and enjoy the messy, imperfect, and beautiful journey of my life."
Kerry Washington (1977-), American actress
Have you stepped into the freedom that you don't have to be perfect? One of the reasons I write fiction is to explore the truth that life is messy ... and to delve into how faith intersects with our doubts and struggles and imperfections. If we only accept perfection, we stall out in our life journey because of frustration and disappointment.
"Use the talents you possess, for the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except the best."
Henry van Dyke (1852-1933), American author and clergyman
We can focus on
our imperfections so much that we overlook our talents and abilities. We think,
Oh, I’m not good enough yet or I need to wait and practice more. And
waiting becomes never. We never pursue our dream because we believe anything
less than perfect isn’t good enough.
Perhaps one of
these quotes resonated with you, encouraging you to step away from striving for
perfection. Write it out and post it where you can see it as a reminder that
life—your life—can be both imperfect and good.
Beth, those are some great quotes! Thanks for taking the time to share them with my readers.
Excerpt...
I had
half an hour, no more than that, to get my life in order so my sisters would
never suspect how unprepared I was for this morning.
I
kicked the back door shut, dumping the plastic grocery bags onto the kitchen
counter, easing the ache in my arms. If Johanna were hosting this morning,
she’d have something homemade baking in her oven, the appealing aroma filling
her immaculate kitchen.
Well,
one thing was for certain—I was not Johanna.
Winston’s
frantic barks sounded from upstairs. Seconds later, he was scampering around my
feet, his sudden appearance meaning I’d forgotten to lock him in his kennel.
Again.
“Bad
dog.” A halfhearted reprimand. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”
I
pulled items from the plastic bags. Please don’t let me
have forgotten anything during my mad dash through the grocery store.
Cream
for Johanna’s and my coffee—although she was going to have to make do with my
Keurig coffeemaker, not French press.
A small
box of sugar so Payton could enjoy her coffee with the preferred three heaping
spoonfuls per cup.
A
premade fruit salad.
Blueberry
muffins.
Keurig
pods.
Nothing
fancy. But at least I wouldn’t look like a complete failure.
I
suppose to a casual observer, Johanna, Payton, and I—the three remaining
Thatcher sisters—appeared successful. And yet, while we might claim certain
professional and romantic achievements, we still struggled to find our way as
sisters.
At
times Pepper’s words—the ones Payton had shared with Johanna and me several
months ago—seemed more of a taunt than an encouragement.
“Sometimes you just have to forget all the other stuff and
remember we’re sisters.”
Shouldn’t
a role you acquired at birth be simple? Something you learned to do, along with
walking and talking and navigating adolescence?
But
then Pepper’s death at sixteen splintered our already-precarious bonds.
I
selected three mugs from a kitchen cupboard. This was no time to try to unravel
the complicated dynamics between me, Johanna, and Payton—not when they’d be
here any minute. And not with so much riding on this morning.
It’s
funny how much hope people put into a cup of coffee.
Social
media—Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and Pinterest and even millions of
people’s text messages around the world—overflow daily with memes and GIFs
lauding the miracle qualities of coffee.
Coffee is the gasoline of life.
All I need is coffee and mascara.
Behind every successful person is a substantial amount of
coffee.
I drink coffee for your protection.
Drink coffee and do good.
And
now . . . now coffee would be the glue that bonded the three of
us together.
Coffee
and a book, if Payton’s latest “we should do this!” idea succeeded.
Despite
our determination to try to be better sisters—to overcome the damage to our
relationships caused by Pepper’s death . . . and
secrets . . . and not knowing how to even relax with one
another—it was all too easy to succumb to a lifetime of bad habits.
Of
course, I knew my given position in the Thatcher sisters, volunteering to have
our first Saturday morning book club meeting at my house. There were times I
doubted that I’d ever get my “Is everybody happy?” theme song out of my head.
It
didn’t matter that I had a full-time job. That I battled unrelenting fatigue.
That Geoff and I were starting renovations on our house next week. I laughed
and brushed off their multiple “We can do this, Jillian,” offers with
lighthearted responses of “I’m good. Really. This isn’t a problem at all.”
And
then I’d resorted to a last-minute trip to the grocery store for premade
options for this morning’s breakfast.
“A girl
has to do what a girl has to do” was fast becoming my mantra. Only I was doing
less and less and hoping to get by.
Winston
scratched at the back door leading from the kitchen to the yard, distracting me
from my musings on the power of caffeine mixed with a heavy dose of self-doubt.
I bent
down and ruffled his white ears before opening the door. “Sorry to leave you
sitting there.”
A knock
at the front door signaled the arrival of one sister—most likely Johanna, who
was always early.
She
greeted me with a quick hug, setting her leather purse and her book on the
small oak table Geoff and I kept by the front door. At least she’d brought her
copy of the book we’d chosen. The question was, had she read it?
“Good
to see you, Joey. How are you?”
“Tired.”
Johanna slipped off her leather sandals, looking trim in black capris and a red
flowing top with cutout shoulders. “Between my work and Beckett’s schedule at
the academy, life’s crazy.”
“Still,
it must be nice having him in the same state at least.”
“He
might as well have kept his original assignment in Alabama. The superintendent
at the academy keeps him so busy dealing with speeches and briefings and I
don’t know what else, we barely see each other.”
“But
you see him more than you did when he lived in another state, right?” And not
seeing each other was the norm for Beckett and Johanna.
“I’m
not keeping track of hours and minutes.”
“One
thing I know is you and Beckett can do this. You’ve managed a long-distance
relationship for years, which means you can manage crazy hours with both of you
living in the same town. I remember how excited you both were the weekend he
drove into the Springs.”
“You’re
right, Jilly. I’m still getting used to this new phase. It was so sudden.”
“Why
don’t you go make a cup of coffee? I apologize that it’s from a plastic pod and
not your preferred French press. But I do have cream . . .” Had
I taken the time to put it in the fridge? Payton pulled up in front of the
house as I started to close the door. “I’ll wait here for Payton.”
“Sounds
good.” My oldest sister disappeared in a light cloud of her Coco perfume.
Payton
released her long auburn hair from its ponytail as she half ran up the
sidewalk. “Hey!”
“No
need to run—you’re not late.”
“I lost
track of time.” She shook her head, strands falling around her shoulders.
“Well,
come on in.” We shared a quick hug. “Do you want coffee or water?”
“Both
sound great. I’m dehydrated and undercaffeinated—a bad combination, especially
if I want to get along with Johanna this morning.”
“Don’t
start.” I resisted the urge to shake my finger at Payton.
“It was
a joke.”
In the
kitchen, Johanna had arranged the fresh-from-a-plastic-container muffins onto a
plate. The premade fruit salad now sat on the counter in a white ceramic bowl.
“Thanks.”
I retrieved a serving spoon from the drawer. “I could have done that.”
“I
figured I would make myself useful while I waited for my coffee.” She gave
Payton a slow once-over. “Did you just come from the gym?”
“Technically,
yes, but I was coaching, not working out. I met one of my JV girls for a
private lesson. She wanted to work on blocking.” She raised both hands, waving
aside her explanation. “Sorry if you’re offended, big sister. I couldn’t shower
if I wanted to be here close to on time.”
Johanna
hadn’t commented on my casual attire of relaxed jeans and a navy-blue Broncos
T-shirt—a well-loved gift from Dad. But Johanna and Payton would find something
to bicker about even if they’d taken a vow of silence. And me? I would always
be the designated driver of the emotional vehicle that carried our merry little
trio.
Taken
from Moments We Forget by Beth K. Vogt. Copyright © 2019. Used by
permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.
My review...
This is part of a series, but it could easily stand alone.
(I’m sure there would be a greater appreciation for the family dynamics if the
books are read in order, however.)
I’ve never read a book by Vogt before, and this one had me
asking, “Why not?” I will certainly have to fix that! The book is over 400
pages, but it certainly didn’t seem like it, as it was easy to get wrapped up
in the lives of the sisters and fly through the story.
The sisters deal with a number of realistic struggles and
challenges, including cancer/chemotherapy and unemployment to self-worth. It’s
a beautiful, emotional tale, and I look forward to the next book in the series.
Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy, but I wasn’t required
to leave a positive review.
About Beth...
Beth K. Vogt is a nonfiction author and editor who
said she’d never write fiction. She’s the wife of an Air Force family physician
(now in solo practice) who said she’d never marry a doctor—or anyone in the
military. She’s a mom of four who said she’d never have kids. Now Beth believes
God’s best often waits behind doors marked Never. Beth’s first novel for Tyndale House
Publishers, Things
I Never Told You,
released in May 2018. Moments
We Forget,
book two in the Thatcher Sisters series, releases May 2019.
Beth is a 2016
Christy Award winner, a 2016 ACFW Carol Award winner, and a 2015 RITA Award finalist.
Her 2014 novel, Somebody Like You, was one of Publishers Weekly’s Best Books of 2014. A November Bride was part of the Year of Weddings series
by Zondervan. Having authored nine contemporary romance novels or novellas,
Beth believes there’s more to happily ever after than the fairy tales tell us.
An established
magazine writer and former editor of the leadership magazine for MOPS International,
Beth blogs for Novel Academy and The Write Conversation and also enjoys
speaking to writers’ groups and mentoring other writers. She lives in Colorado
with her husband, Rob, who has adjusted to discussing the lives of imaginary
people, and their youngest daughter, Christa, who loves to play volleyball and
enjoys writing her own stories. Connect with Beth at bethvogt.com.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Title: Final Grains of Sand
