This is an excerpt from a new book, A Midwife in Amish Country: Celebrating God’s Gift of Life (Salem Books, April 30, 2018) Three years later I was released from high school.
I say released because, though I made significant improvements in attitude and approach to my education, as my academic performance remained persistently less than stellar, my folks offered to provide me another year or two of homeschooling. I refused their offer, however, and heartily.
I also managed to wiggle out from under the pressure levied upon me to attend Nazareth Nursing College. Instead, I signed on with Carla Hartley’s home study course, Apprentice Academics and, through Karen, slipped into the mysterious world of homebirth midwifery. I attended my first Michigan Midwives Association conference the autumn after my graduation and, there, met a midwife I hoped to secure an apprenticeship with.
But, alas, as is so often the case, I was more interested in working with that midwife than she was interested in working with me. Naturally, I can’t blame her. I don’t know how crazy I’d be over the idea of taking a squeamish eighteen-year-old virgin on as my next apprentice, either.
I met a cute boy around that time, anyhow, and most likely wouldn’t have been quite as attentive as my apprenticeship would have warranted. He was, after all, really cute.
His name was Brent Woodard.
I wasn’t so sure of Brent at first. One of the decisions I made as I surrendered the reins of my life to God was, rather than wasting my time and energy searching out a man I’d be willing to marry, I’d trust God to bring exactly the right man to me at exactly the right time. Then, in order to strengthen my resolve to wait and to help me recognize the man when he finally appeared, I crafted a fantastic description of him. I wanted a man who loved the Lord more than anything – who’d dedicated his life to God and to his God-ordained destiny, just as I had. I wanted a man who’d appreciate and celebrate my strength and my potential – who’d realize I, too, was created with purposes to fulfill – purposes sure to extend beyond being a wife and mother – and who would consider it his sovereign duty to see all my purposes realized. More: