Chest pains led to a series of medical tests. Yet, after a clean bill of health, Conrad’s chest pressure continued. Our primary care physician prescribed three pills a day of something called Xanax. Conrad only took half of one to sleep better. He had already quit the anti-depressants prescribed at Link Care because they didn’t help and he didn’t like the way they made him feel. We weren’t connecting the dots between his increased anxiety involving the anti-depressant, nor the long-term withdrawal effects of the pain medications he had taken earlier.

A retired psychologist, turned pilot/airplane mechanic, came on staff with ABM and became a great encouragement to Conrad. He talked to us about stress accumulation. Just as beasts of burden can carry only so much before collapsing, humans also eventually break down with emotional burdens. Conrad inadvertently learned to “stuff” his emotions instead of “unloading” them. A pastor’s kid who became a pastor did not know how to open his heart for fear of rejection from people and perhaps subconsciously from God. Galatians 6:2 tells us to bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Debriefing or sharing our hearts in safe relationships is God’s way to “unload,” but we didn’t realize that vital heart-health necessity yet.

Recognizing his gift for public speaking, Cedar Avenue Baptist Church had licensed him to preach when he was only seventeen years old. His ability to easily engage with people and preach seemed a natural fit for the pastorate even though the rigors of seminary challenged his easy going personality. Conrad’s dad loved theology more than anything and used theologians as role models for Conrad to emulate. Then one infamous day, the suicide of his Greek language professor seriously rocked Conrad’s world. Other seminarians also set a high bar for someone who didn’t consider himself much of a student. A professional career normally defines identity, so when life circumstances drew a curtain on Conrad’s preaching career, his identity took a fatal hit, which in the very long run is a very good thing because God never meant for our performance to identify us. What happens when everything you ever thought you were, and everything your dad expected of you suddenly dematerializes? You honestly don’t know who the heck you are anymore!

The stresses of life also affected me. My hands and head began to tremor, and more so with each life change. Just before moving to Alaska, a neurologist diagnosed me with Familial Tremors. My mother and her mother had tremors. My doctor prescribed Xanax to reduce my tremors when I spoke or taught. I discovered half a Xanax also gave me a good night’s sleep. With my polio compromised nervous system, increasing tremors, aches, and pains, insomnia was an issue.

Though we loved working with Jonathan and the team, we felt our energy level waning. In the meantime Joel and Bryan asked for transfers from Coffman Engineering in Anchorage to Spokane, Washington. Both families moved and our close knit family began unraveling. We were there for each of the twelve Alaskan-born grandchildren but could not adequately bond with the Spokane children at this distance.

With our accumulated stress, need to bond with our younger grandchildren, plus seemingly accelerated aging, we read the book, Necessary Endings by Henry Cloud. After much prayer and soul searching, we put our home on the market. Missionaries stayed with us that summer and asked us to let them know if we got an offer, which we did. They followed with their offer, which we accepted contingent on the sale of their house in Kodiak. With mixed emotions we packed everything except necessities and garage sale items. Time went by . . . nothing moved. A young missionary couple needed a place to stay for a few months. We had already sold our apartment couch, stove, and refrigerator, but quickly found replacements.

A whole year after we put our house on the market, the Kodiak house finally sold. Suddenly everything went into high gear. A new staff couple moved into our house until the new owners took possession. We left for Spokane May 6th, 2013, towing a utility trailer with everything needed to live in Joel’s walk-out basement. My mom had moved to heaven December 18, but with cremation, we could avoid winter travel and set her interment for Mothers’s Day, May 12, right when we passed through. Jonathan’s family joined us on their way up from deputation and Charissa did a surprise fly in. The painful reality of Mom’s passing sank in as I hugged the jar holding her ashes.

We traveled on to Spokane where Joel and Charissa’s families gave us a warm welcome, and settled into Joel’s walk-out basement with our own familiar stuff. We flew back to Kenai June 2nd to pack the rest of our belongings into a 20-foot connex, had it barged to Seattle and trucked to Spokane where we repacked it into storage until we found a home to buy.

Over the next eight months we exhausted our house search. Then one day we saw a house for sale only six blocks from Charissa and six houses from Joel. We had walked by this house numerous times, never imagining we could afford a house in this area. However, the Christian owner accepted our offer and we moved into our new home on January 25, 2014.

We remain on staff part time with Arctic Barnabas. I continue publishing the monthly women’s letter, as well as writing and editing other ABM publications as needed. Conrad connects with major donors to thank them for their contributions and support. We both attend missionary conferences, represented ABM to mission groups, as well as return to Alaska for Ministry Family Retreats, bush trips, and By Design presentations.

And so we live happily ever after . . . or not. . .