Hello all! I know that it has been a freakishly long time since I’ve posted anything new so I’ll give you a bit of an update. I WON NaNoWriMo back in November (woot woot!), surpassing my 50,000 word goal and completing my book Prophets and Providences. As soon as it is finished being updated, it will be available for purchase and I will post a link where it can be accessed here , so if you liked the clips I wrote, come and support this poor author, yeah? 😉 Upcoming in April is Camp NaNoWriMo, essentially the two-part summer edition and I’ll be working on an entirely new work called the Mennonite reveal. It details y journey from the time I decided to leave my mother’s church at sixteen along the path I chose to my current faith and all of the little isms and juicy bits and pieces you have all ever wondered about Mennonites. What I have so far is a rough draft but here is a short synopsis and excerpt for your enjoyment. Stayed tuned!
Usually, when people think of Mennonites, they think Amish. Buggys, bonnets, anti-electricity and outhouses. The whole nine yards. Of course, that is one side of it, and I do, in fact, own a few bonnets, but the Old Order aren’t the only Order. We are as varied a people as any other and this is my side. I am a Mennonite. I do not live in a community and my last name isn’t German. Situated outside of the busy streets of Nashville, TN, this is my inside glimpse into the life of the lesser known Anabaptists of 2014.
I turned quickly as the shout echoed across the store, catching my attention. It took me only half a second to realize who had been calling out after me. A young gentleman stood not far off, pants weighed down with the bulk of one of those extra long wallet chains guys are so fond of now, an older woman smacking gum at his side and grinning. He had, literally, walked backwards to get a better look at me, finger still pointing me out for every passerby to see. As if they needed help noticing that I was as different from them as bees-wax and marmalade.
“Hey! You Amish?”
It was almost a physical effort to keep the incredulity from my expression. I just gave him a small, friendly smile despite the fact that he was still pointing at me. Really, didn’t people believe it was rude to point anymore? My mother would have been humiliated if I had done the same in her presence.
“No, I’m a Mennonite.”
The lady continued smacking her gum, nodding in confusion as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Without another word or preamble, they waltzed off, leaving me a little red int he cheeks and whispering a prayer for patience. I couldn’t blame them, honestly. They probably had no idea they had embarrassed me a little and it was hardly criminal to ask. Rather, I prayed to God and thanked him for the odd couple taking time out of their day to stop and ask me about my faith. After all, that was how people learned more about us and the Lord’s work through our lives. If it got people interested in the path to Heaven, then they could point at me all they wanted.
Hope you enjoy the bits I’ll post to come and wish me luck on reaching my 30,000 (maybe even another 50,000!) word goal for April!