There are moments in life when someone does something so small that they may never remember it again. A kind word. An encouraging note. A helping hand when the road suddenly becomes difficult.
Most of the time, those moments never make the news. They aren’t celebrated with awards or applause. Yet years later, the person on the receiving end may still remember exactly what was said, what was done, and how it changed the direction of their day—or even their life.
When I wrote Be Someone’s Hero, I wasn’t thinking about superheroes or extraordinary accomplishments. I was thinking about ordinary people. The teachers who believe in a struggling student. The neighbor who quietly lends a hand. The friend who shows up without being asked. The stranger whose kindness arrives at exactly the right moment.
I’ve been blessed to meet people like that throughout my own life. Looking back, I can see that many of the paths I’ve walked were made a little easier because someone chose compassion over convenience, encouragement over criticism, or generosity over recognition. They probably never considered themselves heroes. I certainly did.
One of the things I hope this book reminds us is that we rarely know the full impact of our everyday choices. A few thoughtful words, a simple act of kindness, or the willingness to stand beside someone during a difficult season may become a memory they carry for years to come.
So, before you decide whether this book belongs on your own bookshelf, I thought I’d invite you to spend a few quiet minutes with it here on the porch.
Pull up a Rocker
If you’d like to spend a little more time on the porch before deciding whether this book is for you, I’ve included the beginning below. I hope it gives you a feel for the conversation waiting inside its pages.
Everyday Heroes
When we hear the word hero, most of us picture the big things first. We think about firefighters rushing into burning buildings, soldiers heading into danger, or the comic book versions from years ago – colorful capes flying behind them while the city hangs in the balance. Heroes are usually shown as larger-than-life people doing extraordinary things.
The truth is, though, most real heroes don’t look like that at all. Most of them are ordinary folks quietly going about their lives, doing the things that need doing because they love the people around them. Think about the mothers who are standing in the kitchen before daylight packing lunches before the school day begins. Consider the men who work long hours, come home tired, and still fix what’s broken because their family depends on them. And take a closer look at the neighbors who show up with soup when somebody’s sick, the friend who listens without rushing you along, or the grandmother who somehow keeps an entire family stitched together with faith, grit, and casseroles.
Those are the heroes this book is about.
Over the years, I’ve noticed something about people who live a simple life. They may never call attention to themselves, and they certainly don’t see themselves as heroic, but they often leave the deepest marks on the hearts of others. There’s just something about slowing down enough to notice people that changes the way we live.
A simple life creates room for the things that matter most. When our schedules aren’t packed so tightly that we can barely breathe, we begin to see – really see – things again. We notice the tired cashier at the grocery store. We pay attention when the widow down the road hasn’t turned her porch light on in a few nights. We look more deeply when a friend says, “I’m fine,” but their eyes tell a different story. Living simply helps us become more aware of the people God placed around us instead of racing past them while we chase bigger, louder, busier lives.
That kind of life also builds a quiet sort of strength.
The world is noisy these days. Everybody seems to be rushing, competing, proving, posting, striving, and trying to keep up. A simple life pulls us away from some of that noise. It reminds us that there’s value in steady rhythms, peaceful homes, meaningful work, and faith rooted deep enough to hold us upright when life gets hard.
Quiet strength rarely gets applause. Most of the time, it looks like perseverance and showing up day after day. It looks like holding your family together during difficult seasons, staying kind in a harsh world, or choosing gratitude when complaining would come easier. Those things may not make headlines, but they matter more than we often realize.
Over time, those small acts begin to ripple outward. When we share produce from our gardens with neighbor, it might inspire another family to plant one of their own. A warm meal placed on somebody’s table during a hard season may become the very thing that reminds them they’re not alone. A child who grows up watching faith lived out quietly at home carries those lessons into adulthood long after the words themselves are forgotten.
That’s one of the beautiful things about simple living. Much of its impact happens quietly.
Most meaningful lives are built that way.
Not through grand gestures or dramatic moments, but through small choices made faithfully over and over again.
Mother Teresa once said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” I’ve always believed there’s a great deal of truth in that. A loaf of bread shared with a friend. A listening ear. A handwritten note. Sitting beside somebody who’s grieving and simply refusing to let them hurt alone. Those things may seem small at the time, but they have a way of staying with people.
Faith sits at the center of all of this.
At its heart, simple living is really about trust. Trusting God enough to believe we don’t have to chase every distraction the world throws at us. Trusting Him enough to slow down, pay attention, and live intentionally. Faith is what turns ordinary work into ministry and everyday kindness into something sacred.
It’s also what reminds us that we are not called to do everything. We’re simply called to be faithful with what God places in front of us.
That may mean caring for your home well. It may mean encouraging a weary friend, helping a neighbor, mentoring a child, or quietly serving your community in ways nobody else ever notices. None of those things seem particularly heroic by the world’s standards, but I have a feeling Heaven sees them differently.
As we walk through these pages together, I hope this book encourages you to embrace that kind of quiet heroism. The kind rooted in faith, gratitude, kindness, and intentional living. The kind that doesn’t need recognition to matter.
I also hope it reminds you that you don’t have to change the entire world overnight. Most of the time, we change the world one person at a time without even realizing it.
Maybe that begins with your family. Maybe it begins across your kitchen table. Maybe it starts with a conversation on the front porch, a shared meal, a prayer, or simply taking time to truly listen when somebody needs to be heard.
Those moments matter.
So as you move through this book, I’d love for you to slow down for a little while. Step outside when you can. Listen to the birds. Watch the wind move through the trees. Let yourself breathe a little deeper and settle into the quieter rhythms of life again.
Because when we live attentively – when we choose faith, kindness, gratitude, and purpose in the middle of ordinary days – we often become the very heroes somebody else needed all along.xcerpt
About this Book
- Paperback and Kindle editions
- 225 pages
- 6×9 trim size
- Available through Amazon
Take it Home
If you’d like to add The Farm Wife to your own bookshelf, you’ll find it here.
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Leave a Note on the Porch