Although I was raised in a church that supported missions, learned at an early age to give money to missions, and even actually met a missionary once, it had never occurred to me to go on a mission trip. I would just stay home and pray for those who were “called” to go.
Then one day my daughter invited me to go with her on a mission trip to Guatemala. How can you say “NO” to your daughter? Continue reading
I had finally grown tall enough to answer the phone without a step stool. We had a fancy, black, rotary-style phone that hung on the wall. It was not a “party” line (where several families shared the same telephone line) like so many of our friends had. We had a “private” line as Dad’s job was
dependent on a phone call-out.