Reflections of a Recovered Old-Maid

my dream of heaven on earth + updates on Grampa's book

For everyone who is waiting on my grampa’s book, the editor (a good friend of mine) is still busy at it. She’s had a few health complications, so the process is slower than anticipated. But it is happening, and I still hope to have the book polished and printed before our June wedding.

I’ve also been doing a little refurbishing here on the substack. I’ve created a few sections for some of my fiction, and will start posting a serial beginning next Monday, called The Tapiocans. You’ll get an installment once a month. The Tapiocans is a story about a church-camp week with fantastical elements. It’s gently deals with issues of judging, witnessing to lost souls, and working together. It’s written with middle-grade readers in mind, but so my beta readers have all mostly seemed to enjoy it for it’s thematic elements and simplicity. It’s not my best work of fiction, but is fun nevertheless.

I will also be posting it on Wattpad, as well as some of my older novels. These are all free and won’t cost you anything to read. I’m simply not interested in self publishing, but know that I want some of my novels to be available to readers.

It's been awhile since I've shared a substantive glimpse into my thoughts. It's a little more difficult to shoot out the things I'm thinking when they're not a garble of messy, pent up uncertainties. Truth be told, my brain power is set at max, no longer bogged down by common static, untethered and settled. All is calm, sweet, and... slow. It's as if I had been a busy flickering fluorescent LED bulb, and now I'm a simple, savory candle. Less to worry about... less to say. I would like to think the smoke from my small flame is delectable, enticing, even if it seems I've grown quieter and less inclined to ramble on about thoughts.

I'm sure most girls dream of their wedding day... of the dress they'll wear, of the decor, the cake, and the flowers. Naturally, I have too, in my own ways. But mostly because I've seen the day of my wedding as an avenue to a different, more complicated dream: an opportunity to gather all the people I love in one place. A sort of early sight at what I imagine heaven to be like.

One could say I've been obsessed with weddings from my first memory of when I was three years old, a flower girl in a pale yellow dress, and seriously dropped flower petals on the church floor, then took care to retrieve every petal when I returned up the aisle to put back in my basket. I still have that dress. After that there was hardly a wedding I wasn't involved in. I was a flower girl more times than I can remember, until I was too old to be one anymore, and then for a couple of aunts, I attended the guest book. I was a bridesmaid the unlucky three times, fortunately, not to my own detriment. I would stay a week or more with other friends before their weddings to help with the ironing, baking, altering, and hair. I longed and lived for these moments, hardly envious because I was too glad to be a part of something so glorious and honorable as these friends' moments of heaven brought to earth. I treasured the bits and pieces of all these weddings, watching each of my friends marry one by one, puzzling out a simple dream for a time to come.

Silk gauze veil with silk embroidery, pearl beading, and silk tatted lace

If I were sad, it was not because it was not yet my turn, but that maybe I would never see my vision of everyone gathered. I knew as I watched my friends marry one by one, and then consequently stayed with them after they had babies, that they wouldn't have the same advantage I'd had when I helped them. They wouldn't be disconnected from little ones and men. Naturally, this fear has been mostly unwarranted. Yet I worried that my own friends I stood by on those days wouldn't be able to gather with me someday, and that despite my happiness for them now, there'd be none left or able to celebrate with me.

They say the wedding is for the bride and groom, that the people gather only to witness and support. If the bride wants it, it must not be unreasonable. I've never agreed with such a courthouse-esque approach to marriage. And yet, ironically, my desire for a simple wedding has still come full circle into causing me to seem like a bridezilla to some. So it is with humility, that I've had to let go of parts of my vision of what a wedding means. What to me is a glorious occasion to drop all toil and anxiety is just an obligation for some. I won't have all my loved ones gathered. For some the excuses are absolutely justifiable. For others, maybe it's also so, but when you've waited for something so long and rejoiced with so many others, it can feel unbearably unfair at times that others feel no readiness to rejoice with you, too.

I've always known it's unreasonable to orchestrate a utopia before the Kingdom of God is ready to be established permanently. But I remain that same little girl who picked up all the petals on the way out--doggedly naive and determined. If I can't have all my family and friends there, I will do as the King did in the parable of the wedding feast, and extend an invitation to anyone I see or meet. Is this not a truer glimpse of heaven? Perhaps we won't be surrounded by those who we thought we would be, but we will be surrounded. And it will be splendid.

It is only a little over two months away, and already I know the day won't be anything like I've imagined. There will be missing faces. It's simply impossible to expect everyone I've ever loved to be gathered in one place... just yet. Just yet. This thought alone is a happy, blessed thought as I work on the last stitches of my wedding dress, edit my Grampa's book and my own novels and articles, and walk the pilgrim's path with Andy.

I’ve now finished my wedding veil—thus the last of my wedding sewing, just a little over a year of work is finished. I have a month left to spend in Upstate New York before I need to return to Montana to tie up the last affairs of my maidenhood. And then the wedding in June. I know Andy it talking of taking me on my first hitchhiking experience; we hope to do that before I leave now that I’m no longer attached to my sewing projects and the outdoors is warming up toward spring’s arrival.

Other things of interest: I’ve never had a dryer, and we know we don’t want a washer either for various reasons. (Dryers make awful “I’m yelling at you” noises). I’ve been scrubbing everything in the rub with soap, a washboard, and a new, clean toilet plunger. We’ve upgraded to a small hand operated washboard washer that’s more primitive even from what the Amish use. I’ve been teaching piano to some little girls down the road, once I sign off on this, I’ll need to get on my bike and go there. I’ve made friends with the nearby Amish and have our grocery costs down to next to nothing because of various barters I’ve arranged. It’s only taken me a couple months—I’m sure now that I can do this anywhere we go.

There’s a lot about to happen, and we have just a few more weeks until we’re free to be whirled up into the rest of our lives. Our interim—this winter—has not been a waste, a void, or a dead spell, though, but a sweet time to nourish ourselves and prepare for our dreams. How many are lucky enough to do as we have… to do as we shall?!

If you’d like to support my writing and endeavors, you can “buy me a coffee” (I don’t actually drink coffee, as I’m partial to tea).