Serena

There is not one thing in my life that is perfect. My hair, my clothes, my body…there is no danger of me ever being mistaken as a supermodel. Never was. I’m okay with that.The way I figure it, if everything works, nothing hurts, and I don’t scare anyone when I walk out the door–I’m good. There is not one thing about my house that is perfect. My husband and I used rough-cut lumber sawed off our own land to build it, and that lumber wasn’t always straight. I love every imperfection because after too many years of living in parsonages–this is my house. I figure if friends and family always feel welcome here–I’m good. There is nothing about our church that is perfect. People have messy lives. They make mistakes. Not every service is a soul-stirring event. Not every song is my favorite. But I love my church. I figure as long as we’re trying to follow Christ–we’re good. There is nothing about my family that is perfect. I talk too much and frequently forget what I’m saying mid-sentence. My husband works too hard and has conversations with himself while other people are in the room. One son is in […]

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My Old Order Amish friend, Naomi, (not her real name) is in much demand as a midwife—often going without sleep for long periods of time. She tells me that she is grateful for a husband who has always encouraged her in her ministry. The use of that term is important. She and her husband do not refer to what she does as her “work” or her “job.” It is always her “ministry.” I heard such respect for her in his voice when he estimated how many babies she had delivered. “Over five hundred,” he said. Then he turned to her for affirmation. “Is that about right?” She quietly amended that she had delivered well over that number. She is tired from helping a mother through a long labor the night before, and her legs ache. She has her feet up on a stool when she asks her husband if he will make her some mint tea. Mint tea is a favorite among the Amish, and most have a small harvest of mint from the plants they grow each summer. Making tea at their house is a bit more complicated than popping a cup of water and a tea bag into […]

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It was nearly ten o’clock. My husband picked up the telephone, checked the caller ID and said, “It’s Naomi,” (not her real name.) I’m not a big telephone talker, but there was a smile on my face as I reached for the telephone. Naomi has become one of my favorite people. “Are you busy?” she asked in her soft, lyrical Pennsylvania Dutch accent. Of course I was busy. I’m always busy. But never too busy to talk with a good friend, especially one who has taken the time to walk out to an unheated phone shanty in the middle of January! I got caught up on her daughter’s troubled pregnancy and how the other Amish were bringing in food and helping with housework so the daughter could be on complete bed rest. Naomi described the pregnancy problem in some detail. She’s a midwife with forty years of experience and has dealt with troubled pregnancies before. As we got caught up on each others lives, I marveled at the miles, (she lives in a different state) different customs and vastly different lives that lay between us–and yet how easily we have connected–even on the first day I met her. We discussed […]

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