My heart sank as we first walked through the basement apartment in Anchorage—low ceilings, small windows, cigarette butts stacked near the sink from a former occupant, and too small a fit for all our stuff. This would be home if we moved to Alaska. Our son Jami had just bought this duplex and offered us free rent as a way to pay back his college loan. Was this a “coincidental” provision?

Cold and rain typified our entire August visit. God knew my thoughts, anxieties, and longings. He knew I didn’t want a rental again, move our stuff, leave stuff behind, or spend our equity on living expenses. Yet, If we did not move to Alaska… I cringed to think of imposing on relatives until Conrad felt motivated to work again or I completed classes for re-certification to teach. Such terrible fears seized my heart!

The enemy knew the future was hidden from us and took full advantage of our limitations. From the paint box of my own vivid imaginations, he conjured up scenarios of what could happen, and brushed on human reasoning to convince me of a fierce reality before us. Doubt replaced trust. Fear replaced faith. Panic replaced truth.

In the midst of my weakness and unbelief, God called me to repentance. I came to His light and asked Him to make me an overcomer above all else. What glorious promises for those who overcome! (Rev. 2-3) The God of hope once again embraced me in a reality beyond human logic and I surrendered in trust to His sovereign plan and purpose.

We flew back to Salem, Oregon, purchased a 26’ Rider Rental truck, and drove the Alcan back up to Alaska. I still can see those magnificent mountain passes, tranquil lakes, and turquoise rivers winding through deepening autumn foliage—God-splashed color everywhere. Glaciers spilled down from high, rocky cliffs that rose into vast cloud formations—living art by our amazing God! We lumbered through British Columbia, Yukon Territories, and Alaska.

Our journey from Salem to Anchorage finally ended at 1:00am, Friday, 9/9/‘99. Our ’86 GMC truck made one last groan as it cranked up the steep driveway of the clean and welcoming duplex. We crashed on a floor mattress for the night. Suddenly, severe pain ripped through my shoulder! “Oh God, please don’t let me throw up!” I gasped! My shoulder had come out of socket. I turned to use my good arm to lift the other and it miraculously popped back in place. I felt incredible gratitude!

In the following days of unloading, unpacking, arranging, and rearranging that basement apartment, the Lord never left our side. Soon it felt warm, cozy, and familiar. God also made a way where there seemed to be no way in our job search. November 29, Conrad began a part-time job as Resource Center Coordinator at Grace Community Church—certainly reason for a belated Thanksgiving and a joyous Christmas with our kids!

January came in typical Alaskan deep freeze and Conrad left for Men’s retreat at Victory Bible Camp. When he left, he mentioned that his arm hurt. By the time he came home the pain was excruciating! Brachial plexitis again! This time between the pain, strong narcotic drugs (Percocet, Vicodin, Oxycontin), and spiritual warfare, Conrad wondered if he could survive. After two weeks he came into the kitchen looking bewildered and said, “I can’t feel my arm. . . at all.” The virus had killed the nerves in his right shoulder and arm, which hung lifelessly at his side. He then decided to get off his prescription pain meds. . . cold-turkey, and suffered a hellish withdrawal! Slowly the acute stage eased and he continued working at the church in spite of withdrawal related anxiety and emotional weakness.

One desperately cold night as we walked arm-in-arm across the church parking lot, to avoid slipping on the ice, I longed for California. When we entered the church foyer, I happened to look up at the missionary map. There, right above the map, was written, “Lo I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” Matt. 28:20. This certainly felt like “the end of the world”! Yet at that moment, the Lord said to me, “I am with you even here in the far north. I called you here and I will bless you here.” I believed Him and felt a peace that passed my understanding.

By April the snow began to melt, green things readied to burst out of their tombs, and Conrad went to full-time employment. In June we found a three-bedroom, split level house to buy on Trena Street. Absolutely elated, I used one bedroom as an art studio, classroom to teach art, study, and prayer journal. The house also “happened” to include a Jacuzzi hot tub in a back yard gazebo. The hot moving water miraculously saved Conrad’s arm from “frozen shoulder” and stimulated feeling and movement. That spring the church elders asked Conrad to join the elder board, which he did after careful deliberation.

Standing by a huge bonfire one fall night at a church event, I met Lois who invited me to attend a writer’s group. These connections continued to blossom and led to other opportunities, one of which we called, “Expressions of Grace”—an evening when church artists displayed their work in the auditorium/gym accompanied by a musical ensemble and refreshments. Our theme that year was “Gratitude.” What better theme for me to paint, but gratitude! No longer homeless, childless, or without church or ministry—Here we were in our own home near our children in a vibrant church family and ministry. Even I could not imagine being more grateful!

The year ended with still another gift from God (and Jonathan and Becky) — Abigail—our first grandchild who gave us a whole new identity as grandparents! More blessings and challenges lay ahead. . . .