Author: Carrie Sue Barnes

Carrie Sue Barnes is a fiction author and blogger who fell in love with creative writing as a grade schooler in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. She resides now in Wisconsin with her family, often pulling her love for the Midwest into her writing. Carrie Sue's debut novel, The Hidden Legacy, was released in 2018 by Bold Vision Books to strong reviews. Since then, she has published several short stories and continues to write short fiction and faith-inspired reflections on this site. Carrie Sue loves reading, kayaking, hugging her children and friends, rewatching The Office, and connecting with readers in person and on social media.
Faith

From the Floor

Carrie Sue Barnes

Sunday night I had a heart to heart with Jesus. Well, mostly it consisted of my heart bursting with expectations and stress and disappointments and discouragement, and His heart waiting patiently for me to quiet down so He could remind me of His faithful, trustworthy love. Sitting cross-legged on the red carpet floor of the church, I had only the light of the sanctuary candle catching on the golden doors of the tabernacle and a dozen candles lit beneath the feet of Mary. The silent darkness and empty pews beneath the high wooden ceiling beams supplied a feeling of humbled smallness. His presence reached to each corner of the room, filling every space and wrapping around me with a nearly tangible pressure. Being the sole breathing creature in the entire church building, I had only a minute of quiet thought before the need to speak aloud to the Lord overcame me. There were no excuses, no distractions, nowhere else I ought to be. I could hear rain, could smell its warm scent upon the air. And I could hear the Lord. How I missed that voice, so long lost in my foolish busyness and worry. Today I can feel the usual temptations and the familiar discouragements tugging at me. They want back in, like life-long household pets displaced to the backyard. For now, their persuasive pleas are not enough to change my mind. I prefer the silence, the smallness of being surrounded by the presence of God. I prefer my seat on the floor, at His feet.

My buddy Matt knows what I’m talking about…

Hope, Intentionality

Boldness

Carrie Sue Barnes

“It’s a bold move to Photoshop yourself into a picture with your girlfriend and her kids on a ski trip with their real father. But then again, Michael is a bold guy. Is bold the right word?” (Jim Halpert, “A Benihana Christmas” episode)

I experience frequent bursts of courage. They aren’t stretches or phases or anything else that might imply a lasting nature. No, my courage to make bold moves, decisions and statements comes in bursts; exciting little spurts that I find irresistable in the moment, and often regrettable after the fact. It’s true. When the courage hits me, it cannot be resisted. I am its dancing marionette. And boldness is a fickle, laughing puppeteer, swinging my arms and legs, opening my mouth and speaking for me. If I didn’t enjoy the passing moments of courage so much, I might build up some defenses against them. Isn’t it fun though? Isn’t it a thrill to say what you really long to say to someone, or to sign on for a challenge before reasoning with yourself against it? The power of that thrill, that self-daring willingness to try and willingness to fall, holds sway over me. Goethe (or whoever really made the statement) was right: boldness does have power and magic in it. He said it had genius too but maybe the presence of that characteristic shouldn’t be assumed. At least with me, it’s pretty hit or miss.

What is consistent is this experience of being true to myself. That’s what matters, according to Shakespeare, right? I have come to appreciate the integrity, the sincere engagement between my will and my actions that is involved in moments of boldness. Whether shallow and trite, or deep and meaningful, if the matter at hand requires any degree of courage, if it requires facing a moment of hesitancy with stubborn resistance, I am likely to consider it worth the effort. Is it always worth the effort? Is the bold choice always the right, the prudent, the wise choice? Are my instances of courage untainted by folly or selfishness? Nope. Lesson learned time and time again. Am I better off resisting though? I loathe the thought of becoming someone who is only guided by an “I know better than to try” or “I know better than to expect” attitude. How easily I might adopt that mindset! How self-contained and protected it would be! I won’t lie. Sometimes I wish for a little self-defense against the optimism and willingness to try that seems to come naturally to me. Sometimes self-contained and protected sound comforting. I’d not only have to sacrifice the boldness though; the self-respect would have to go too.

Personal Reflection

Markers and Memories

Carrie Sue Barnes

Hopscotch makes me think of Saginaw, charter buses, Mike Chenier, sleeping bags on the hard-as-rock cafeteria floor, falling asleep to the recitation of the rosary. Every steep ravine I pass while hiking in Wisconsin transports me for a fleeting moment to freshman year at Grand Valley State, my window seat beside the trees, nighttime excursions across the crunching leaves that carpeted the ravines. Narrow creeks running beneath roads and cutting through fields take me home. Watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, I might as well be back in the apartment in Steubenville, pretending to work on Methods homework with Sue and Michelle, leaving late to walk to my job at the campus library.

There are a few approaching events that have me thinking on the past. They signify the amount of time that has passed, the ways our lives have changed… Except these road markers leave me feeling behind. Not left behind, for that could imply that others are at fault, but simply behind. The sense of missing a turn somewhere along the route from past to present is my familiar companion. When I get this way, reminiscing and thinking how nice it’d be to see the faces and places I treasure from the past, I am not wishing to return to the past. I don’t want to go back. I want to reach another place, another stage or situation, which in 5 or 10 years will give me reason to again feel this nostalgia. What it comes down to is my own road markers – sparse in number, small in meaning. If I ever do have a wish to go back, it is only to repave the road since.

Intentionality

LOL: True or False?

Carrie Sue Barnes

Anytime I read something that includes “LOL”, be it a text message, email, facebook comment or other such online conversation, I wonder, “Did they really laugh out loud?” I wonder what the percentage is of people who truly laugh out loud, laugh their asses off and roll on the floor laughing when they claim to do so? Probably pretty small. Are we turning into a whole race of annoying Julie’s? I don’t blame J. D. at all. No one can sincerely say that typing LOL feels as good as physically laughing out loud. Maybe we are actually losing our ability to laugh out loud! If I quickly make those 3 keystrokes in order to move on to my next full words, rather than taking a moment to laugh at what I just read or heard or saw, think of how many laughs I am missing out on each day! For a person who is in the frequent habit of using those acronymns, the number could be atrociously large. Couldn’t we all benefit from a little more loud, from the gut laughter or shaking fits of giggles in our days? Supposedly laughter is contagious, so wouldn’t you be doing more good by sharing the sound of your amusement with whomever happens to be in hearing range rather than conveying a merely mental laugh with the person on the other end of that text or facebook conversation?

Cosmo Brown would find us LOL-ers pitiable, don’t you think? He knows what we’re missing.

Midwest, Personal Reflection, Writing

Alas, I’m Back At Home

Carrie Sue Barnes
The trip to Traverse City and its surrounding area was fantastic. Yes, fantastic. The only thing that could have made it better was if I could have stayed through the week. I love it down there. (Not that it’s really ‘down’ from here in northeast Wisconsin, but to a Yooper, the lower peninsula is always ‘down’ from wherever she happens to be.) There is water in every direction you look. There are blue and green striped bays, meandering rivers, quietly beautiful inland lakes, and of course, the great Lake Michigan. There were also blossoms in just as many directions as there was water. Cherry blossoms, lilacs, tulips, flowering crabs, and then some more cherry blossoms. Straight rows of cherry trees ran up and down the glacial hills of the peninsulas, heavy with white flowers.
In the category of research, the trip was a success. I found neighborhoods, parks, churches, etc. that will prove useful for writing The Mercy Hour. I developed ideas for the characters lives and activities. In the category of vacation too, the trip was a success. We relaxed, we soaked in the views, we laughed, we drank wine, we ate treats. It was loveliness.
And now I’m back, trying not to indulge in self-pity. Let’s be honest though, I miss the views. The wine wasn’t bad either. 🙂