I got a Christmas newsletter from a good friend of mine, who I have known since I was 15, and who is still a Mennonite member. We have a good friendship, which has survived the test of time- and my abandoning the Mennonite/Christian community. We keep in touch three or four times a year, updating each other as her & her husband keep adding to their family and I keep moving around the Midwest. :)
This year, she sent a family newsletter celebrating the birth of their second child, an adorable baby boy. They gave him a six-syllable Old-Testament name that I can't even 100% place! Of course they included an idyllic family photo and some cliche Anabaptist verbiage. Even though I don't seek out or welcome the Anabaptist experience, the familiar phraseology was somehow, weirdly, comforting.
I found myself sitting in my car, stuck in my daily commute, staring at her family photo, oddly envying her. I realized this girl had embraced the legacy she had inherited, and had recieved the most out of what she had been destined to experience.
I looked at her (gorgeous) family photo. complete with tall, dark, and handsome and adorable baby boys, and felt a strange jealousy. Here is a woman who has accepted her designed lot in life, and has found peace and joy. She has accepted what generations of Mennonites before her have handed down, and become part of the living Anabaptist story. A modern girl, who has taken on an ancient role, and loved it. She continued on the course that she knew, and found forever love.
I'm not sure if I'm really communicating how I felt in that moment. I felt a woman who had joined the ongoing march of the Anabaptists. A woman who had fit in with what she was destined to become. A woman who had fulfilled what her culture expected her to. And in a way, I envied the ease and peace of her decision.
In no way does this make me regret or double-think my decision. But I have realized that in some way, I will always envy the peers who chose to accept the path that destiny and our churches chose for us. They haven't had to interrupt their entire lives, loose their entire life plan, and redefine their very souls, to find a new path and meaning in life. They have simply accepted their status quo. And in pictures, it looks beautiful.
I wasn't handed any tools for success in the 21st century. I had to defy everything my parents and my church set out and expected for me in life. I had to endure the soul-searing redefining of my very personality. I chose the road less traveled. The road that means I will probably be single, for a while at least.
In that moment, I compared her idyllic family and homestead life with my single-woman, corporate career path. I don't regret it at all. But it is lonely. I won't have that picture-perfect family, because that doesn't come with my life choices. My choices have determined the life that *I* will experience, not the life that other lives will be born into.
This year, she sent a family newsletter celebrating the birth of their second child, an adorable baby boy. They gave him a six-syllable Old-Testament name that I can't even 100% place! Of course they included an idyllic family photo and some cliche Anabaptist verbiage. Even though I don't seek out or welcome the Anabaptist experience, the familiar phraseology was somehow, weirdly, comforting.
I found myself sitting in my car, stuck in my daily commute, staring at her family photo, oddly envying her. I realized this girl had embraced the legacy she had inherited, and had recieved the most out of what she had been destined to experience.
I looked at her (gorgeous) family photo. complete with tall, dark, and handsome and adorable baby boys, and felt a strange jealousy. Here is a woman who has accepted her designed lot in life, and has found peace and joy. She has accepted what generations of Mennonites before her have handed down, and become part of the living Anabaptist story. A modern girl, who has taken on an ancient role, and loved it. She continued on the course that she knew, and found forever love.
I'm not sure if I'm really communicating how I felt in that moment. I felt a woman who had joined the ongoing march of the Anabaptists. A woman who had fit in with what she was destined to become. A woman who had fulfilled what her culture expected her to. And in a way, I envied the ease and peace of her decision.
In no way does this make me regret or double-think my decision. But I have realized that in some way, I will always envy the peers who chose to accept the path that destiny and our churches chose for us. They haven't had to interrupt their entire lives, loose their entire life plan, and redefine their very souls, to find a new path and meaning in life. They have simply accepted their status quo. And in pictures, it looks beautiful.
I wasn't handed any tools for success in the 21st century. I had to defy everything my parents and my church set out and expected for me in life. I had to endure the soul-searing redefining of my very personality. I chose the road less traveled. The road that means I will probably be single, for a while at least.
In that moment, I compared her idyllic family and homestead life with my single-woman, corporate career path. I don't regret it at all. But it is lonely. I won't have that picture-perfect family, because that doesn't come with my life choices. My choices have determined the life that *I* will experience, not the life that other lives will be born into.
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