Losing my father at age eleven left a large, empty hole in my heart that I wondered if anything would ever be able to fill. The family ranch became a place of solace, knowing it was Dad's favorite place. It also became a place of hope when I found my future husband on the ranch next door.

Shortly after our marriage, Eric received Uncle Sam's request to join the Army; before long, he was deployed to Vietnam when our baby was eleven days old. In God's providence, we both came to faith continents apart with a prayer and a promise of making a public commitment together upon his safe return home. Released from the constraints of active duty and with the needs of three children, our family began to long for open spaces, and we decided it was time to return to the ranch.

Taking a step back in time, the ranch was beyond phone and electric lines, with no running water. We began living a simpler yet more rugged life with wood stoves for heat and coal oil lamps for light. There was satisfaction and even fun in doing chores, knowing that we all had a part, and at the end of the day, we were warm and fed. Actions or inactions were in direct correlation with consequences, whether good or bad. We were humbled by God's amazing love in all circumstances and His provisions, precisely when needed, through His saints or by providing ten chukars with only two shells. Necessity was the mother of invention, and creative ideas flourished when needs arose.

Being able to take a moonlight stroll after a day of homeschooling, with the stars and the sky framed by the spiring red canyon walls on both sides, was breathtaking. God's presence seemed to flow through the canyon like the river that meandered by.