​For 23 years, we lived on 40 acres in a beautiful log home our family built together. Mornings began at 6 a.m., after being gently awakened by one of my parents for personal Bible time. As a young girl, I would stumble to the living room couch, snuggle under a warm blanket, and read my devotional Bible. Then, I would prop my Bible over my face for a very, very quiet (often napping!) prayer time. Afterward, we would unite as a family for Wisdom Search—reading portions of Psalms and Proverbs before our shared prayer time. Next, our crew would divide and conquer our chores before a mid-morning breakfast. Some days that chore was gathering eggs or making homemade biscuits and gravy! Mom’s cry of “The goats are out!” often interrupted our homeschool routine, turning it into impromptu physical education as we ran to corral our wayward goats. Recess could include picking fresh tomatoes from the garden, eating them like apples with juice dripping off our elbows, or grabbing an apple from the orchard. Playtime adventures in the woods often involved ambitious projects like building play log houses, planting orchards, taking long hikes, or stringing ziplines—though these projects often ended in failure, it wasn’t for lack of enthusiasm.

 

As I grew, so did my responsibilities and passions. Music became my love, and I took private piano, voice, and classical organ lessons from some of the brightest music professors in the area. Our home was graced with a concave pedalboard organ and a concert vertical grand piano, gifted by my dearly loved great-uncle. Hours were spent practicing music—playing the piano, refining my vocal skills, and attempting to master the organ. My ambitious nature drove me, as I dreamed of performing professionally one day. It wasn’t uncommon for me to practice three or four hours a day. Sadly, my asthma and allergies, which had been present since birth, worsened during my teenage years, and I began to experience the initial symptoms of autonomic pathologies. Seeking medical care, my health stabilized by the start of my senior year—at least for a time.

 

Part of my high school graduation requirement was to memorize Psalm 119 and recite it on graduation day. Divided into twenty-two stanzas, each consisting of eight verses, I began to etch God’s Word into my mind. After completing each section, my dad would sign and date it in my Bible. Finally, on graduation day, after a one-hour classical voice and piano concert performed entirely from memory, I recited approximately 25 minutes of Psalm 119. (I had such wonderfully patient guests that day… even if my brothers were on the back row making silly faces and mocking me the whole time!) With my cap soaring through the air and my diploma firmly in my hand, I sighed in relief! Thus, equipped with a foundation of love, academics, music, and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, I embarked on the next phase of life, known as “adulting.