One clear day in late spring of 1968 I took a drive to the home of my husband’s aunt. My husband, who worked nights as a diesel mechanic on trucks, needed to sleep during the day, so I thought it best to visit with her for a while. We were living near Escanaba, Michigan, when our life changing spiritual journey began. 

I had three of our children with me in the car and our oldest daughter was in school. I had no idea we would not make it to our destination that day. 

As we headed north on a freshly graveled road, I found myself losing control of our four-door Buick. With some quick thinking, rather than roll our heavy vehicle, I let off the gas and aimed straight into the roadside ditch. I held my right arm across my youngest daughter who was in one of the early style car seats next to me. The boys were in the back seat. It was over quickly and I found us nestled on top of a hammock—the root system of a downed tree. I could not back out of our predicament. 

Gathering my thoughts after our rather exciting ride into the brush, we all evacuated the car and headed up the road to a local farmer’s house. The farmer’s wife welcomed us in so I could call a tow truck. We were too stuck for the farm tractor to pull us out. While waiting for rescue, we had a pleasant conversation. In the process of sharing this and that, the farmer’s wife handed me a magazine that I had never seen before. It was a Plain Truth Magazine. At the time, I had no idea how that accident, and the years following those events, would change our lives so drastically. 

I had been seeking answers to life’s most important questions, but I received them in a most unusual way. 

When I married my husband, I joined Catholicism so our family would be united with one religion. But I began to wonder, “Where is the truth? Is there a truth? If so, where do I find it?” 

After requesting by mail, we started receiving our own Plain Truth Magazine. By then my husband and family were a part of my search. We began the journey together. 

The next two years were spent in Bible study, prayer and visits from a minister of the Worldwide Church of God, Hal Baird. He conducted Bible studies and answered many thoughtful questions. As our new lifestyle progressed, we were ready for baptism. We had been keeping the Sabbath by ourselves and  learned about God’s Holy Days, too. This became a challenge for our surrounding neighbors when we had to explain why our children were doing things so differently. It was summertime and I had been having Bible school study times for my family and theirs, as well. As you might surmise, that little schooling was ended when the truth came out. 

Now began our years for travel each Sabbath morning. Our first trip to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, on Sept. 5, 1970, was for our baptism in Peter Ochs music store basement. Our youngest boy was four months old, and a bit fussy being held by a stranger while I was baptized.

We learned that my husband’s cousin lived halfway between our home and Milwaukee, our destination—and that they had been a part of the Church for a few years. We were invited to stay in their farmhouse basement for several Sabbaths until a new site  opened near Appleton, Wisconsin. Milwaukee was more than four hours each way and Appleton was two and a half hours away. 

Sabbath was quite an event for us. We were in the Eastern Time Zone, but Appleton was in the Central. I would lay out everyone’s clothes the night before and prepare lunches for the road on Friday. After breakfast on the Sabbath, we loaded up and off we went. Services for the Holy Days were held at Wisconsin Dells. My sister and her family lived in Baraboo, Wisconsin. We lived in Escanaba, Michigan, so we would travel to their place and stay for a few days so we could be involved with our Church family and keep the Holy Days. My sister cleared out one room for our visits so we could have our family’s privacy. 

After our first big move, we were finally able to be closer to a Church area. Thanks to some new Church friends, my husband found a job at a new truck repair shop in Black River Falls, Wisconsin. The fall of 1973 found us moving just before the Feast of Tabernacles. I packed for the move and for the Feast that year. 

The move was a great blessing as we now lived 90 miles from Wisconsin Dells. Our drive for services was three hours less than when we began in Michigan. 

For a few months, we stayed in a cabin out at Lake Arbutus, northeast of Black River Falls. I did our laundry in wash tubs with a scrub board and hung the clothes out to dry. It was different living that way for a few months, but it worked. When a better home for our family became available, we moved in and lived there for 13 years while the children grew up. While we certainly had our life’s challenges like most families do, each child learned to be decent, loving, kind and caring, for which their dad and I have always been thankful. 

As the years have come and gone and I am now a widow, I am still loving God with a very thankful heart. Each day is becoming more of a physical challenge for me. As my family is all grown up and living their own lives, I sometimes find it difficult being alone. I truly rely on our loving God for comfort and support. He is always faithful with His help. Take time to reflect on your life’s journey, too. UN