My husband, Dave, suggested that before I move forward any more with this blog, I should write a bit of the story of how it came about. To accomplish that, I have to go back a bit.

I have been drawn to the Lord for as long as I can remember. I was baptized as an infant, and raised in a church-going family with good Christian values. We weren’t perfect, but our home was filled with a lot of love. I remember getting my first real Bible in third grade, at a white wooden church in Massachusetts. I went through confirmation and joined the United Methodist church in New Hampshire when I was 14. Somewhere between these two events, however, was one of the first really influential spiritual experiences in my life – Good News Club. It was taught by the wife of the pastor of the Campton Baptist Church. We learned Bible stories and shared prayer requests. I remember those prayers, which were childlike and honest, being a life-line for me. We moved from New Hampshire to Texas the summer I turned 16. While my family moved, I went to Interlochen Music Camp in Michigan, and I will never forget going, all by myself with no parental urging, to their Sunday morning services. I was simply drawn there.

The first Sunday I was in Texas I walked from my house to Arapaho United Methodist Church, and within weeks my whole family was attending there and we joined the congregation. That is where I really came to know my Lord. It is where my husband and I were married over 30 years ago, my father-in law and both of my parents are inurned, and where Dave and I will one day be laid to rest. It is where I first thought that I was called to be a pastor, and where I learned what a calling is. My pastor, Don Barnes, said to me, as I discussed with him that I thought I might be being called to be a pastor, “If you can not do it, don’t.” That sounds a little clumsy, but it is important. If you are able not to do something, you aren’t called to it. It has turned out to be one of the most important pieces of advice I’ve ever received.