I had never felt more connected. I had never felt more a part of anything in my life.
In July, that feeling strengthened when my California family remained true to their promise and came out for a stay at the farm. I think we were all a little nervous at first, but they seemed game to unplug and experience the “simple life” for the ten days of their visit. In turn, I did my best to keep them occupied and show them a good time.
That first day, I introduced Brady to several Amish cousins close to his age, and they hit it off right away, much to my relief. My dad wanted to explore the workshop, where he began peppering me with questions, marveling at the ingenious ways our tools had been adapted for nonelectrical use. While we were busy out there, Liz spent time in the kitchen with Mammi, learning to make biscuits from scratch.
The first few days of their visit went well, though at times they seemed to grow antsy and uncomfortable—and I heard a few under-the-breath remarks about the lack of air-conditioning, the early-to-bed-early-to-rise hours we kept, and the smell of manure wafting over from the farm next door. But by about the fourth day, I noticed that all three seemed to have relaxed significantly. Here there were no cell phones, no email, no iPads or voice mail or any other digital connections to their world back home and, thus unplugged, they began to flourish.
Brady’s new friends taught him how to handle a horse and buggy and play Dutch Blitz, and he impressed them in turn with his prowess at our nightly volleyball games in the yard. As the week went on, my dad happily pitched in with buggy repairs, and one night at dinner Liz declared as her goal to take on all of Mammi’s chores the next day so that the woman could put her feet up and rest. We all chuckled—both at the thought of Liz doing everything and of Mammi doing nothing—but in the end she came close to achieving her goal. Liz also endeared herself to me when she made a special effort to get to know Rachel, spending a day at her house canning with her and her mom, and then later taking both of them for a “girls day out” of lunch and shopping in Strasburg. Throughout everything, I was glad that Dad, Liz, and Brady seemed to find a comfortable familiarity with my way of life, which had always felt so foreign and unapproachable to them before.
In the beginning, I knew that my California family was just humoring me, but by the end of their stay, they seemed genuinely glad they had come. And we all knew that I had been right. The simpler life was good for them. Even Brady had managed to break the habit of reaching for his cell phone every few minutes and instead focused on the people around him.
Best of all was the look on my father’s face during our nightly Bible time. To my surprise, for the duration of their visit, Daadi tucked away the King James Bible and read from a more modern, easy-to-understand translation instead—an act which touched me deeply. As his gentle voice shared the Word of the Lord by candlelight, I could sense a willing eagerness in my father’s eyes, a hunger, one I had never seen before. Each night, I silently prayed that he would come to know God on a personal level—and ultimately lead his wife and younger son there as well.
Despite the wonderful week we shared, it wasn’t too difficult to say goodbye once it was over, because we knew they would be returning in just a few months for the wedding.
Rachel and I were finally joined together as husband and wife in October, in the very first ceremony of the fall marriage season because neither of us could wait a moment longer. With Jake serving as my newehocker and Brady sitting nearby as unofficial groomsman, Rachel and I took our vows and fulfilled at last the promise first begun on a school playground so many years before.
At the reception afterward, I was thrilled to see how easily Brady and my dad and Liz fit in with everyone else—Amish or not—and simply laughed and talked and helped us celebrate this special day. Their trip here over the summer had definitely made changes in all of them and had helped cement our relationships in a whole new way.
I also continued to feel a deeper connection with the other members of my district. The boy who had never belonged finally felt a part of something—fully—at last.
And then there was the woman sitting next to me. The whole day, I couldn’t stop smiling, especially each time I caught the beautiful blue eyes of my bride. Gazing at her, I realized I wasn’t just a full-blown member of my father’s family out there or my mother’s family back here or of this loving Amish community. Now I was also a part of something even more special—of Rachel and me and our own little family of two. God willing, that number would grow with the passing years. But I couldn’t imagine my joy ever being more complete than it was now.