From Westbow Press...

Has anyone read this book? It sounds different but intriguing.

Overview

Come take a sacred journey.

Meg Crane has never had a longing for adventure. She’s never even traveled more than two hundred miles from home. But when she receives an invitation from the New Hope Retreat Center to travel deeper into the heart of God, Meg finds herself saying yes.

Against her better judgment.

What will she discover if she begins to walk the winding path through the broken pieces of her past?

Meg isn’t the only one who feels apprehensive about the journey. Though the other people gathered at New Hope appear to have life well put together, each of them has a story to tell.

Join Meg, Hannah, Mara, and Charissa as they become unlikely companions on the road to healing, transformation, and self-discovery. Because the long walk leads through the unpredictable terrain of the inner life, the travelers will need courage, patience, perseverance, and of course…

Sensible Shoes.

From Westbow Press website:

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PrologueMeg, 1967A solitary little girl in a gray wool coat and red knit cap flitted through the snow, searching for a glimmer of gold. Someone had given the jingle bells to Mama for Christmas, and Mama had smiled when she hung them on the front door. So when the wind snatched the bells and spirited them away, five-year-old Meg was determined to find them and make Mama happy again.

Meg hummed as she searched around bushes in the yard. She loved hide-and-seek. She wished Mama or Rachel would play hide-and-seek with her; but Mama was too busy to play, and eleven-year-old Rachel always said she was too big for baby games. If only Daddy hadn’t gone to heaven to be with Jesus! Daddy had been very good at hide-and-seek.

Meg patiently pursued the lost bells for almost an hour, finally spotting one of them peeking out from a snowbank near Mrs. Anderson’s garage. Clutching her prize, Meg skipped down the driveway and up the front steps.

Mama was standing at the door, scowling and scolding. “Margaret Fowler! Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“Mama, I found them!” Meg beamed as she offered her gift.

Mama stripped off Meg’s hat, revealing thick blonde curls. “How many times do I have to tell you? Take your boots off outside. I don’t want snow messing up this floor.”

Meg left her boots on the porch and danced inside, jingling the bells. “Look, Mama! I found your bells!”

Mama frowned as she shut the door. “What bells?”



* * *Meg Crane stepped across the threshold of her childhood home in Kingsbury, Michigan, the jingling of her keys echoing in the foyer. Though she had spent almost forty of her forty-six years in the Fowler family’s large Victorian house, it had never felt this cavernously lonely. Shutting the door behind her, Meg sank slowly to the floor and leaned her head against the wood paneling.

Gone. Becca was gone. Her beloved daughter had flown away.

Meg wished they could have had more time together. The fourth of August had arrived too quickly, and now her only child was on a plane to London, where she would spend her junior year of college.

Becca’s lively presence at home had kept Meg happily preoccupied. There had been so much to do together, so many preparations to make for the overseas adventure. Becca’s joy and enthusiasm had temporarily buoyed Meg’s spirits above her own grief.

But now the empty house engulfed her with dreadful stillness.

Mother was also gone. Still gone.

Months after Ruth Fowler’s death, Meg was still fighting the impulse to call out a greeting to her mother whenever she arrived home. She still expected Mother to appear at the dinner table. She still listened for her footsteps on the staircase. She still paused by the bedroom door, stifling the urge to say goodnight.

Meg supposed she would be slow to process Becca’s absence too. She imagined she would still look for Becca’s pink water bottle on the kitchen counter. She would still listen for her daughter's cheerful voice humming along with her iPod. She would probably still awaken around midnight and expect to hear Becca arrive home safely after an evening out with friends.

But now the only sounds in the house were the melancholy sighs of an antique grandfather clock and the low hum of the refrigerator.

Meg Crane was alone. Truly alone.

Now what?

Slumping forward, Meg cradled her head in her hands and wept.