My Beauty For Your Ashes by Traci Wooden-Carlisle

Traci Wooden Carlisle
By Traci Wooden Carlisle November 2, 2012 16:14

My Beauty For Your Ashes by Traci Wooden-Carlisle


My Beauty For Your Ashes brings to life thought provoking characters that will take you on a roller coaster ride of emotion. Though they hail from backgrounds that are worlds apart, it only takes one fateful accident to rearrange their priorities and set them on roads that intersect, forcing them to acknowledge the relationships they can’t do without.

Elder Paige Morganson has worked hard to overcome the anger, hate and abuse of her past. With God’s help she believes healing and wholeness is within her grasp when she is propelled into a world of secrets and lies that threaten to unravel the very thread of hope she’s clung to in her struggle for peace.

Mason Jenson is a self-made man who has been able to create his own fortune and build a home life with his wife and child void of God’s help…so he thinks, but as the world he knows balances precariously on the edge of destruction, who will he turn to?

Elder Brandon Tatum’s, new in town, has prided himself on not making a move until he’s heard God, but even as he accepts his new position in ministry, he is faced with decisions of the heart; a whole new territory for him.

Victoria Branchett has ruthlessly survived the death of her only daughter by fierce determination, but is the strength she has relied on enough to see her through a failing marriage and an ailing grandchild?

This novel merges colorful characters facing one untimely circumstance after another, and mixes in a serious spin on how one views God, both inside and outside of His will. Of course, this is just the beginning. More people emerge from behind the scenes; some to help and others, to hurt. With everything happening simultaneously, one would almost question if God is able to truly fix and heal everything, and the readers will see just how far each person’s faith (or lack thereof) will carry them. As they sift through the debris of past dreams and hopes left by the wayside, they are offered a lifeline and given an opportunity to receive God’s Beauty for their ashes.

According to the author, this book contains sexual violence against women/children/men.

The author has rated this book PG-13 (questionable content for children under 13).


It all started with one lone tear. It escaped unguarded, quickly falling from her high, cheek bone, wetting the concrete below. It was closely followed by another. Soon there was a rain of tears splashing against the once warm, dry stone, underneath her patent leather pumps.
As the pictures played in her mind, she fell deeper and deeper into the morose spell that continued to choke the pain and anger from her chest, spreading it to the very tip of her toes.

A warm, wayward wind pulled her out of her stupor, causing her to catch her breath; she sighed inwardly. Mmmm, another dry, beautiful day and I am wasting it with dark memories. She caught sight of the wet ground, wondering even as she brought her hands to her face where the moisture had come from. She straightened up, away from the railing she had been leaning over, and looked out over the brush and yellow grass of the old church’s backyard. She straightened her simple, black dress, drying her hands on the soft cotton.

She didn’t want to turn around. She had found a small place of peace and quiet in the midst of all of the condolences, well-wishers, and those that wanted to share their feelings of celebration for the graduation of another ‘saint’. She worked her shoulders back and forth in a vain attempt to ease some of the tension that had been building since she got off the plane three days ago.

Another gust lent itself in drying her cheeks and she cocked her head to the side wishing it was cool like the ones off of the coast, however, it would have been out of place here. This was not a place of refreshing; it wasn’t a place for light breezes and even lighter cares. The heat was as heavy as her heart, and today it was welcomed. If it couldn’t rain, then she would drink in the dry, Arizona sun.

She shrugged her shoulders, knowing someone would be looking for her soon, if not already. She turned, preparing herself for more awkward small talk, and walked back to the church to eulogize her cousin’s funeral.

The small white church was too warm and the overhead fans failed to keep all of the air circulating low near the pews. People were fiercely waving their fans back and forth in front of their faces, creating more heat than the small fans could contend with.

She walked along the side-aisle, aware of some of the encouraging looks and curious stares. She kept her head straight, concentrating on reaching her seat on the front row.

As the funeral progressed and the soloist resonantly sang ‘The Lord’s Prayer,’ she kept her face blank of any emotion less she give herself away before she reached the pulpit. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see that no one from the immediate family was present. This didn’t surprise her; Stone Winters was a hard one to love and almost as warm as his name most of the time. Actually, she was surprised by the amount of people who were in attendance.

As the last person stepped away from the pulpit she took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. As she was introduced as the speaker, she briefly wondered how many would believe her title of ‘Elder’ when she was done.

She walked up the short, shallow stairs to the pulpit, organized her notes, and requested that all present would bow their heads for her short prayer that would lead into the eulogy. Once she was finished she looked out over the sea of people dressed in black, and began.

“Stone Winters was a lifetime disappointment to his family and anyone who dared to get close enough to call him ‘friend’. He was a liar, a cheater, woman-beater, and the cause of much heartbreak to his mom until she died four years ago. He used everyone he met, and left many children fatherless. When I went to visit him last Friday, he was headed to hell with a long-standing reservation to burn forever.”

She paused as everyone’s breath did at that moment, and reached down to grab her glass of water. She took a sip, placing the glass back down with a wry smile tugging at the side of her mouth.

“But God. But God….”

Copyright© Traci Wooden-Carlisle. All rights reserved.

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Traci Wooden Carlisle
By Traci Wooden Carlisle November 2, 2012 16:14
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