I began to wonder if I ever read anything about the Baptist Missionary from Indonesia. I could not find it in the Vancouver Sun so where did I read about him? I hadn’t touched a book or magazine in over a month. It had to be in the paper.
I didn’t have time to go much further in the search. I just couldn’t figure it out. I simply thank God I found that man. A friend suggested it was simply God. God led me to see what He wanted me to see, to find whom He wanted me to find, to experience what he wanted me to experience. All I know is that Sarah never experienced demonic activity again (or so was reported about a year later).
We were wrapping up our stay in Vancouver. We visited a few friends, packed our things, sold our original living room set. We said goodbye to our kids and a few came back to help us pack the U-Haul van. We rented the truck in Blaine, WA so we would not have to return it to Canada.
The Klassen boys came to help us pack everything. The story I told about moving in to the massive church owned estate about Jim running into the patio door three times actually belongs here. I know Dale laughed (his brother). Wes Drewlo and Ron Hoskyn also helped us pack up. Ron had decided to come with us.
Della did not see how she could drive and managed two little kids. I could have taken Rodney in the truck with me, but it could still have been a problem caring for Rhonda and driving. I had been looking for someone to drive the truck with no success when Ron offered to drive my car so I could drive the truck. That was a godsend. He would follow and I would watch to make sure he followed. If the car needed a stop, they passed me and pulled off when they needed to.
The trip was quite uneventful. We had a couple of overnight stops before reaching southern California. We stopped on the north side of the grapevine to get organized, as we knew we were about to drive into heavy traffic. All was well until we got right into Los Angeles. I was leading in the far right lane assuming any turns we would need to make would be to the right. No so. We needed to stay on I-5 and it veered left right where every freeway in LA merged – or so it felt. Traffic was jammed and as quickly as possible I wedged my way into the far left lane praying that some how Ron would be able to follow, It was bumper to bumper and if we got separated we had made no arrangements to determine how we would connect.
I slowed in the lane to create some space in front of me and then hit the gas to quickly move ahead hoping Ron would figure out what I was doing. As soon as I opened a hole, Ron pulled in right behind me. Whew! God was with us.
We stopped a ways down the road to get something to eat and double-check our maps. This time we figured out how to reconnect if we got separated again. We called the professors wife to tell her where we were and she told us to meet her at the ho0use. She would be waiting with the keys.
We turned off I-5 onto Beach Boulevard, drove past Knott’s Berry Farm (whatever that was – we had never heard of it before), turned right at its south end onto Crescent Avenue for one block then left onto Grand Avenue, another quick left and quicker right onto a parallel road to Jackson Way and drove about midway down where the house was on the left and our hostess was standing on the steps waving at us. This would be our new home for the next two years. The other cars parked in the front and I backed the U-Haul into the driveway.
We all got out, stretched our legs and looked. It thought it was beautiful. There was a two-car garage at the front. The lawn had the strangest grass. It crawled along the ground rather then growing tall. I was told we would have to edge it, but it would not need to be mowed. The kids could hardly way to run and run they did,
We were given a few instructions before the door was opened and we walked in.
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