Our first year of marriage, that honeymoon of wedded bliss, Conrad held down three part-time jobs besides attending the Mennonite Seminary full time. Every Sunday we traveled seventy miles round trip to work with the youth at Hanford Baptist Church. Many Sundays I read the Sunday School lesson aloud as we drove, which Conrad then taught when we got there. He also drove a Salvation Army bus and worked as grounds keeper at the college. I worked in the college library and drove between Fresno State University for art classes, and Fresno Pacific for education and literature classes.

Not exactly an easy year, but we were in love! Except once after a tiff. I went for a walk and realized I felt no love for him, which totally scared me! I kept walking and cried out to God. His sweet Spirit reminded me that love was not always a feeling, but a life-long commitment. The feelings would come and go and I needed to trust Him for that.

I officially joined the baptist church where Conrad directed the youth. Mom told me Dad grieved that I left the Mennonite church. I thought little of it. Being Mennonite was like being Jewish—a cultural heritage. I loved my heritage, but I knew religion is only man’s futile attempt to reach God. Jesus is God’s way to reach man. I was good with that.

One day in Chapel, Dr. Earl Radmacher from Western Seminary spoke. He so impressed Conrad that we decided to move to Portland. After my graduation we loaded our ’65 Mustang and a U-Haul trailer, including cement block bookshelves. The weight scales registered at 3,000 pounds! We miraculously arrived in spite of an overheated engine and clutch issues.

Conrad’s sister and her husband invited us to live with them while we looked for a rental. I so wanted a Townhouse apartment, but God provided a tiny affordable house on Roethe Road only a couple blocks from my student teaching assignment. Sauve’s Island Community Church hired us as youth directors and expected me to lead the choir, which I actually did.

Conrad enrolled at Western Seminary and found employment as a checker at Fred Meyer. We discovered irreparable damage to our drive-line on the Mustang from pulling excessing weight, so we sold it. My Dad offered to give us a ’64 Chevy Nova. Conrad needed to feel he could care for me, so we declined their offer, which hurt them deeply. With credit for buying a bed and dresser on time payments, we qualified to purchase a brand new Chevy Vega for $2600.00.

In the meantime, Conrad’s fifteen year-old brother became unexplainably ill in Asia, so his parents sent him back to America to live with us. Too ill to attend full time, he enrolled part time at the high school where I student taught. Second semester I substitute taught, never knowing who would call at 6 a.m. or what class I would face that day. With all the challenges, my IBS flared and I developed a rash on my hands. On Valentines Day we picked up a “poodle mix” at the animal shelter to cheer us up and named her Cupid.

By fall, God provided a teaching position at Sam Barlow High School in spite of a glutted teaching market. We moved into a two bedroom house in Milwaukie and Conrad’s parents returned from the mission field to care for Dan. A youth position at Milwaukie Baptist opened. We applied and, in grave presumption, resigned at Sauvie’s Island. Much to our humiliation and financial panic, the vote did not pass.

However, Gladstone Baptist Church did hire us. These kids began as typical conservative church teens—goofing off, irreverent, and critical. . . until one prayer meeting night. Michael Blackler, a Japanese missionary kid home from BIOLA, began to pray. . . his prayer took my breath away with its simple, unpretentious, heart-honest cry to God. We sensed Jesus in the room and all began to pray for real. Our Bible study and prayer times grew. Some evenings we met down by the river and more and more kids attended. What beautiful times with truly great kids! We took them to Explo ’72—a Campus Crusade For Christ event in Dallas, Texas. Thousands of teens filled the Cotton Bowl to hear God’s Word preached and Andre Crouch sing, “To God Be The Glory!”

By Conrad’s last year of seminary, he began to wear down. Irrational fears overcame him whenever we drove into the country to visit his sister and her husband, now pastoring Aims Community Church. We resigned from youth work and Conrad found employment working on dialysis machines. He drove a ’56 Chevy purchased from a missionary kid. I drove our Vega forty miles a day to my teaching job. At the end of my first year, standing in line for my paycheck, I overheard a teacher talk about moving. Her house was available so we moved again, closer to my school.

During the first autumn rains, I drove to school at a good clip behind a school bus. I changed lanes, passed the bus, and slipped between two vehicles. Suddenly, I heard a crash ahead of me, tried to swerve, hit the car in front of me, and felt the impact of a truck behind me. The four-car pileup totaled our Vega and a policeman drove me to school. Upon arrival, I fell apart and Conrad had to leave seminary to rescue me.

We ate humble pie and telephoned my parents to ask if we could now buy the Chevy Nova. They graciously agreed. We traveled back to Fresno at Christmas break to spend time with them. When we opened our gifts, my dad handed us an envelop with a note that read, “Because Jesus cancelled our debt, we too cancel your debt on the Nova. Love Dad.” We all wept.

So young, such hard lessons, a faithful God, and more to come. . .