Book Review: When Sparrows Fall by Meg Moseley

Well, I've joined this A-Z blogging challenge. Already, I've rebelled against the rules as each day were are to blog for each letter of the alphabet - meaning the topic will start with the letter of the alphabet for whatever day we're on. Today is B.  Today, B is for Book Review! Okay, maybe I am following the rules after all...

When Sparrows Fall. Debut novel from Meg Moseley.

What a book. I won't spoil this, but I was very worried the book would end sad. I mean, we have a mom and six kids. Miranda, our main character, is faced with a serious choice early on. I couldn't imagine how this story could turn out good.

Her children are very responsible for their age. For instance, Miranda's 10-year old daughter can prepare meals and helps look after her younger siblings. After Miranda receives news from her pastor that he is requesting everyone to move out of state, Miranda begins a serious fast and prayer time. Unfortunately, she tends to faint and does just that.... She takes a fall down a nearby cliff - and the children's Uncle Jack is summoned by Miranda's oldest son, Timothy, to come, and serve as their temporary guardian.

I couldn't help but love Jack. A typical guy in many ways. Christian, but loose. Not lukewarm in his beliefs, but I'd say the character is "real." I chuckled at how he would tease Miranda about her use of herbs, herbal teas, this-that-and other to help calm her nerves, to help her feel better, while Jack was sitting there with a swig of Scotch. What was the difference, he would ask her.

Not to say this is a book that promotes drinking. Not one bit. The book explores our relationship with God. This scene I'm speaking of was on the porch. This porch scene was just a bit of comic relief to an otherwise serious story.

The book looks seriously, though fictionally, at a relationship with God. While the church Miranda was a part of had to dress and act a certain way, it was completely smothering. Through Christ we are not to be smothered, but to be free. So many people don't "get it" when they view Christianity. They think it's a bunch of hard rules and do's and don'ts. The fact is God loves us no matter what we've done in the past. And when you learn about why He created us, you want to live a different way, because you want to please Him. Although, He doesn't ask that of us, but when you learn why Christ went to the cross, you want to do all you can to tell others about him and share the salvation that is so easily offered by the blood of Christ.

I know, I went off on a tangent. When Sparrows Fall is a satisfying story of rules, of rights, of wrongs. It's about wolves in sheep's clothing. It's about overcoming it all and living free in Christ.

Be sure to read yesterday's post that Debut Author Meg Moseley wrote yesterday. Leave a comment all week long to be entered to win a copy of When Sparrows Fall. I'll draw the winner on Thursday, April 7th. Be sure to leave your email address... Or, for all of my friends on Facebook, leave a comment in this Note or on my wall - Just let me know you'd like to be entered.

About the Author:
Meg Moseley is a Californian at heart although she’s lived more than half her life in other states.


She formerly wrote human-interest columns for a suburban section of the Atlanta Journal- Constitution, and home schooled for over twenty years.


Meg enjoys books, travel, gardening, her three grown children, and motorcycle rides with her husband Jon. They make their home in northern Georgia.

Friday Spotlight: Debut Author Meg Moseley

I'm so thrilled to welcome my friend Meg Moseley to the blog.

Meg's debut novel When Sparrows Fall comes out on May 3rd, but is available for pre-order on Amazon.  

Tomorrow, I will be posting an official review of When Sparrows Fall, but starting today, when you leave a comment either on my blog or on Facebook, you'll be entered to win a free copy of Meg's debut novel!

Here's a sneak peak:

Freedom. Safety. Love. Miranda vows to reclaim them--for herself, and for her children.

A widow and mother of six, Miranda Hanford leads a quiet, private life. When the pastor of her close-knit church announces his plans to move the entire congregation to another state, Miranda jumps at the opportunity to dissolve ties with Mason Chandler and his controlling method of ruling his flock. But then Mason threatens to unearth secrets from her past, and Miranda feels trapped, terrified she’ll be unable to protect her children.

College professor Jack Hanford is more than surprised when he gets a call from his estranged sister-in-law’s oldest son, Timothy, informing him that Miranda has taken a serious fall and he has been named legal guardian of her children while she recovers. Quickly charmed by Miranda’s children, Jack brings some much-needed life into the sheltered household. But his constant challenging of the family’s conservative lifestyle makes the recovering mother uneasy and defensive—despite Jack’s unnerving appeal.

As Jack tries to make sense of the mysterious Miranda and the secrets she holds so tightly, Mason’s pressure on her increases. With her emotions stirring and freedom calling, can Miranda find a way to unshackle her family without losing everything?

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And now, I loan Meg the blog spot....

When Christy offered me a chance to share my thoughts about accountability in writing, I decided to mention setting goals and priorities, writing a plan, and sticking with a schedule. Organization and consistency are the friends of accountability, I’d planned to say, but disorganization and a slap-dash approach are its enemies. I’d thought I might explore the definition of the word “accountability,” too. It implies that someone is keeping accounts, “counting” what we do with our time.

Scratch all of the above even if it might be true. I have new respect for the way life and death can hijack the best-laid plans and schedules. I have new appreciation for time as a precious resource. Nobody gets an inexhaustible supply of time.

Half a continent away from where I live, my elderly mother has started in-home hospice care at my sister’s house. I’ve been here for about a week. Hospice nurses and aides come in a few times a week, but most of the work is up to my sister and me, and she already has her hands full with her family. So I’m the one who takes care of Mom during the days, and my sister and I swap the nighttime duties.

My publisher has been very kind about making allowances for my situation, but I’m still working on my obligations—writing, revising, promoting—and my to-do list keeps getting longer. I’ll have only one chance to launch my debut novel, and the release date is closer every day. But my mom’s release from this earth is coming closer every day, too, and my priorities have changed.

I’ll still grab a few minutes here and there to work on a novel or write a short, slap-dash blog post, but it’s more important to bring my mom a drink or adjust her pillows or chat for a bit about what heaven might be like. Then she’ll drift off again, sleeping away a few more minutes of her time on earth.

Today she asked me to sing “Jesus Loves Me” with her. Her voice was cracking with age, and mine was cracking with tears, but we made it all the way through. Good and loud, too, and then we laughed together because we felt so silly.

I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything. Not for a best-seller or the best-organized promotion in the history of fiction. Not for a million bucks. If I’m learning anything from this time with my mom, it’s that love should be at the top of my priority list. Always. I think that’s where the best kind of accountability starts.