When I became a wife in 1973, I never imagined that my husband and I would find ourselves involved in prison ministry in the years that lay ahead.

In the early 80’s, Avery County had a small prison, which held less than 100 men. My husband, Terry, a member of the Gideons, would visit the prison to hand out Bibles. During that era, it was common for prisons, with less than 100 men, to not have a state chaplain provided. A group of Christians, including Terry and I, began High Country Prison Ministry. The non-profit was able to hire a community-funded part-time chaplain.

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The Marine Corps became my life in 1983. Honor, courage and commitment were drilled into me in the Corps. I served 21 years and most of that time I was in a leadership position. As I look back now, I can see how the Lord was working in my life and protecting me even when I was unaware. I survived close calls in helicopters, trains, and trucks, as well as other dangerous activities.

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There was a season in my life, after getting the call from the Lord to go into education, which I felt had come to a dead end. I felt lost and depressed. To me it seemed that God had brought me through so many rich experiences, and then He dropped me. After college was finished, I thought He had forgotten me. The truth is I dropped Him.

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I was saved at nine years old at a Girls in Action (GA) camp and grew up in a Christian home in a small south Georgia town called Cairo. My parents loved the Lord, loved each other, and demonstrated that love to my brother and me and to others. My parents bought the family business, a jewelry store, in downtown Cairo. Daddy was a certified gemologist and watchmaker. He was also a very talented artist and musician. Mother worked as bookkeeper for the store.

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China was the land of my birth. My parents were American missionaries to that far away land. My mother was raised in China. She came to America for a short period of time, married an agriculture scientist, and returned to China with her husband.

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I was nine years old when I asked Jesus into my heart to save me. As a child, I struggled with my salvation until I was twelve. At the age of twelve, I was baptized and became a member of my family’s church.

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My public confession of faith came many years after I became a believer. Our family visited many churches as I grew up. Although being in a split denominational family was, at times, difficult, our parents wanted to make sure we believed in Jesus. They always made sure we were in church every Sunday.

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I came to the Lord in college through an on-campus ministry. College offers new experiences and forms different life expectations for young people as they see themselves as adults for the first time. It’s a time of meeting people who are different and is an exciting time of life.

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As with many people who get involved in drugs, I grew up in church. I knew all the Bible stories but quoting the Word wasn’t something I could do because I’d never spent any time in the Bible. I knew church, but I didn’t know Jesus. I was 42 years old before I realized knowing about Jesus is not the same as knowing Jesus.

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Knowing God and His Son is the greatest experience I’ve ever known! He has loved me and done so much for me. Ephesians 3:14-21 is a favorite scripture of mine.

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I was reared in Raleigh, N.C. and became a Christian at the age of 16. I studied at N.C. State and received a degree in Civil Engineering and then taught in the Civil Engineering Department at N.C. State for three and one half years.

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I was nine years old when I asked Jesus into my heart to save me. As a child, I struggled with my salvation until I was twelve. At the age of twelve, I was baptized and became a member of my family’s church.

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Growing up, my home life was wonderful. My parents taught me right from wrong; they took me to church every Sunday. Even though I knew all the Bible stories, as a teenager I became rebellious.

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When I was 14, my Daddy taught me the meaning of work. He needed me to help him, but he gave me a gift, whether he knew it or not. It was a valuable gift for a blind man to find out I didn’t have to sit in the corner. I was 14 when I started learning hard work. We were cutting wood with a crosscut saw when a block came off and bumped my shin, and I said a bad word I won’t repeat here.

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I grew up a PK. PK means preacher’s kid and, because I was one, my parents made me go to all the church services all the time whether I wanted to or not. When I was 8 years old, I went forward at the end of a Sunday morning service to receive Christ as my Savior. I did this, not because it meant something to me, but because I wanted to do it before any of my other church friends did. Needless to say, that didn’t take.

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I was raised in the Catholic Church and attended Catholic school until I was fourteen. At the church my father attended, the gospel was never really explained like my father heard it on the radio. When the preacher said you must be born again, you must have a personal relationship with God, my father thought, “I don’t have one,” but in his heart he knew he would find the right church that would tell him how to be born again.

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As the pitcher on the Ashe County All Star baseball team, I was at practice when my Papaw Lawrence picked me up to go to a revival service at our church, Bald Mountain Baptist. Evangelist Neil Hatfield was preaching. He used his cinder block example to show us how God would give us strength in our lives. As a young boy, it really portrayed to me what kind of strength God could give me throughout my life.

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Since Psalm 107:2-3 is an Old Testament passage of Scripture this is talking about the many ways that the Lord redeemed people in Old Testament times. Thus we see something that is very important for believers in the redemption that comes through the Messiah Jesus to understand. That is, from the very beginning of our Lord God Almighty’s creation He has been the God who redeems humanity though we don’t deserve it!!  

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A year later, I woke up in a hospital ICU with little recall of the scary past couple of days I had been through. My dad came in and gently told me that I had come very, very close to dying due to an ailment called Reye’s Syndrome. I’d been on the verge of death for hours and lots of folks in our town had been praying, some praying side-by-side with my parents in hospital hallways. When Dad left the ICU room a little later, I was stunned by what he had told me. I prayed my second prayer: “God, I almost died. The rest of my life is Yours.”

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As remarkable as it may sound for someone growing up in the South, in the so-called “Bible belt”, and attending a university that at its founding had been a Methodist men’s college, I had never really heard the Gospel until I was 18 years old. That all changed on a late afternoon in mid-September of 1978.

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