“A Midwife in Amish Country chronicles one woman’s incredible journey as a wife, mother, and midwife so readers can see how life, death, and love are all intertwined. The birthing stories gave me chills and the ending brought tears to my eyes as I contemplated how much sacrifice midwifery requires. Thank you, Kim Woodard Osterholzer[…]
Another little bit of A Midwife in Amish Country Celebrating God’s Gift of Life “My journals from that period are overflowing with the triumphs and agonies of those exhilarating, frustrating, exhausting, potent years. My young heart was coming to life. The sense of who I was and what I was meant to do was maturing.[…]
Lessons Learned Among the Amish A little snippet from A Midwife in Amish Country Celebrating God’s Gift of Life “I’d come to cherish the warmth and charm of lamp and lantern light, to treasure visions of intricate quilts stretched across hand-fashioned frames and the thrum of treadle sewing machines—I’d glory in the rows of magenta[…]
In line with the theme of my upcoming book, I’ve built this website and blog around my service as a midwife among the Amish. But today, with the life and dream of Martin Luther King, Jr on my heart, what I want to talk about with you today is a far cry from Amish Midwifery.[…]
Okay, Friends, here we go! For the purpose of sending my up-and-coming book, A Midwife in Amish Country, OUT into our noisy world with some oomph and flair, I’m formally inviting you to join my launch team! If you’d like to be part of the team, reply in the comments below and I’ll hook you up with an application[…]
Hello again, Friends! So! A Midwife in Amish Country: Celebrating God’s Gift of Life is up and available for pre-order on Amazon and my publisher, Regnery Faith, has created a set of advance reader copies for media and marketing purposes, as well as a digital form of the book exclusively for the members of my launch team! Watch for news about how you can help me launch this[…]
But those ten weeks of autumn weren’t spent with my children and grandchildren alone. The time began toward the tail-end of a very dry and dusty summertime. Fairly the moment we crossed the line into Amish country on my first trip down, memories kicked up like the clouds of dust Hannah’s car sent billowing skyward behind[…]
I yawned and stretched. I’d gone to bed too late the night before – thirsty to soak up every last drop of time I could with my daughter and my granddaughters – but I’d still managed to rise early enough to start out on my twenty-two hour drive at a decent time. My girls were yet asleep,[…]
Nearly three years after immersing myself into a lifetime of old journals, and almost two years after tapping out the last line of the last chapter of the first draft of my first book… eighteen months into my plunge into blogging and Facebooking and Tweeting and wrestling over my book proposal, and twelve months past my search[…]
I was surprised to be greeted at MamaBaby by a small bedroom filled with Americans. I’d been told I’d be the only foreign volunteer through my first week in Haiti, but there they were – Patricia and Darren Couch, and Emily Stevenson – and they proved a pure delight. Patricia is one of the gorgeous souls who[…]