The Big Rock Story

Finding a way through to my happy place

There’s an old Bob Wills song that says: 

“There's a big rock in the road and it's there blockin' the road

Lots of careless folks have found it so you better get around it

There's a big rock in the road

Leave the darkness behind you, shine your light up ahead

If you don't want trouble to find you change the life that you led

There's a big rock in the road.”

This is the story of how we got around the big rock in the road.

In the wee morning hours of summer, in a dim farmhouse kitchen, over a cup of bad coffee and a side of cigarettes, my friend and I pondered what our future lives might look like. He drove a gas truck and played in a band. I waitressed at a popular local Chinese restaurant. But in our dreams, there was a cabin in the woods with a small shop where he would build guitars and a kitchen where I would bake bread. 

In the fall, I left for Barcelona, Spain, while he took on more hours driving truck. A year later, when I returned, our friendship rekindled and caught on fire. Soon, I was moving in with him then got pregnant. 

When I gave birth to our daughter, neither of us was employed. For the next few years, we let our circumstances dictate our lives. First, he returned to his truck-driving so we could make ends meet. Then, I became the breadwinner while he stayed at home with our young daughters. I fell into a job as an archivist for a church institution. I liked my work. It provided for my family and it looked like it would become my career. 

Until the day that I was suddenly let go. We had no savings, had loans on both a house and a car and were left with no health insurance. My employer gave me no severance and, though they were a church institution, they left me high and dry. Jim and I tried to look at our situation head on. What are our options? Where do we go from here?

Since we were left in a lurch, we decided to reframe the questions. What have we always wanted to do? What do we want our future to look like? What would make us happy? Unknowingly, we recast our lives into a positive light. Jim wanted to build guitars. I wanted to bake bread and make food. I found an evening part-time job so that I could be the daytime parent and started baking out of my home kitchen. Jim found a studio space and started building guitars and repairing stringed instruments. He became the nighttime parent.

Block print by Rachel Shenk

We made do on a shoestring budget but used our creativity to live a simple and conscious life with our daughters. Our businesses slowly grew organically through word of mouth. At one point, Jim returned to the workforce as a finish carpenter and furniture builder so we would have a steady income so that I could move the bakery to a brick and mortar shop. Those were also the years when our expenses increased as our teen daughters became more involved in school sports and activities.

The years were filled with hard but meaningful work. And, slowly, we arrived at the place we had dreamed of. I had a bakery where I could use my creative skills; Jim had his workshop here he could build and a band to play music with. Though we never made a lot of money, we had both found our happy place and the work that was meant for us.

 In the last 25 years, we’ve added icing and toppings to an already very good made-from-scratch cake: frequent travels back to my continent of birth, a backyard woodfired oven, finding joy in the small things, other creative endeavors. And we still both find meaning in baking and guitar building.

Sometimes it’s worthwhile to take a good hard look to see past the events we are going through. Or to have the courage to climb outside the box. Or to look ahead with clear eyes. 

What we discovered is that our mindset makes all the difference. We try to look ahead, forge our opportunities, and find the positives. We continually reassess, pivot as needed, and remain flexible. And, over a better cup of coffee, sans cigarettes these days, we still ponder what our future lives will look like. There’s another trip waiting, a new pastry to bake, a new tool to make, all good things waiting around the corner.