10
" By quietly showing me Christ’s love, my friend had led me to the Source of that love. For the first time, I truly grasped that Christ had died for me—suffered, bled, and died—and that I could be his through faith. I was amazed at how simple it really was. Why had it always seemed so hard, so impossible before? I waited, then, for the light. Would it be in vain, like before? Like when I was baptized and felt nothing? Like when I returned to the Amish church, walked the gauntlet, and felt nothing? Would this end up the same? I waited. And it came. Almost immediately, a huge load of despair and anguish was lifted from me, replaced with a deep, quiet sense of joy and an internal peace beyond anything I had ever known. I couldn’t believe it. This could not be happening. Not to me. But it was. "
― Ira Wagler , Growing Up Amish
11
" For the first time, I was not running in frantic despair into some wild and dangerous horizon. For the first time, I was leaving with a clear mind, quietly focused on faith, not fear. For the first time, I was leaving behind all the baggage, all the tortured, broken dreams, all the pain of so much loss and heartbreak. For the first time, I was focused on an unknown future. Whatever it held, it would be okay. I would be okay. This I knew in my heart. I felt it deeply. Calmly. And this time I knew there would be no return. "
― Ira Wagler , Growing Up Amish
12
" In the years that have passed since I last saw him, I have tried to do to others as he did to me. Meet people where they are. As they are. To reflect Christ’s love, without judgment, in the messy details of everyday life. And it’s not as if my own life hasn’t been messy at times during those years. It has been, now and then, sometimes brutally so. Mostly as a result of my own choices. But God is who he is. Forever. Unchanging. And always there, even when he doesn’t seem to be. This I have learned. And this I know. Ultimately, I rest in that knowledge. And if my readers glean only one thing from my story, I hope that’s it. That God is there, even when he seems far away. "
― Ira Wagler , Growing Up Amish