I have spent many days, June 18 to July 20, away from my home here in Maranatha. It's time for me to send a blog and tell of my experiences.
Together with my daughter, Debbie Estrada of Phoenix, my granddaughter Dawnetta and her almost 3 year Hope, my daughter LeAnn and hubby Bob Bachman, I left Springfield, headed northward. Bob drove the Convoy of Hope truck, planning to bring grain back from ND.
Our first stop was to visit my sister, Wanda Opsal, at her apartment in Marian Village in Sioux Falls, SD. Wanda turned 97 years in May. Her greatest desire is to go home to Glory. We had a couple hours of joy and prayers and then back to our travels.
We arrived at the District Bible Camp near Devils Lake, ND, and were soon in our cabins for which we'd registered many months before. We dressed in "our best" and soon were in the beautifully decorated dining hall. There were faces that I'd met many years ago. My fist time at camp was in 1940 as VeOra Kensinger and I were conducting Vacation Bible Schools in the state. It's impossible to name the many I renewed acquaintance with. And all the hugs! Men and ladies! Old and young! A young teenager saw the parked Convoy of Hope truck and excitedly said, "Oh, Mrs. Osland must be here!" Guess she figured that I must have come with the Bachmans. I met her later and received another hug.
The Johnson brothers, Dan and Sam, were the scheduled speakers. Let me inject of our first meeting years ago. After my graduation from North Central in Minneapolis, I had been involved in gospel work in South Dakota, my home state. In September 1944, I received a letter from Pastor Jack Andrews inviting me to come to Jamestown, ND, to have a three-week evangelistic campaign with services every night, except Saturday. I accepted and came to Jamestown. There was no church there, but services were held in an upstairs hall over a business in the downtown area.
It was there I met the Herman Johnson family. He was the first superintendent of ND Assemblies of God and came to the services whenever he was in the city. Sister Johnson, her five sons and baby girl came every night with the two oldest boys carrying the baby in her buggy up the long stairway. Each boy told me his name. In the passing years, I have often met the two youngest, Dan and Sam and now at this camp was another occasion to meet again and always with more hugs! I asked Sam how old he was in 1944 and he said "five."
There were many there whom I did not know. A man and his wife and his white-haired mother shook hands with me and he said, "I heard you preach in Noonan in 1944." I looked at him and bluntly asked, "How old were you then?" He answered "13." I went to my cabin and I couldn't believe someone that young could remember me. Then I remembered what the pastor in Jamestown had told me, saying he had written letters to pastors telling them about me. He quoted, "I told them you were different but that you were OK." And before I was through in Jamestown, the pastor in Noonan invited me. Now I wondered if there was something about my preaching that was different. Anyway, for a year and a half I received invitations from pastors. One of these was a handsome bachelor pastor.
And two years later in 1946 I married Chester Osland and we had a happy life until God took him Home, July 16, 2003. I hope you enjoyed that bit of romance. Also I'd like to drop in this little poem:
Life is one fool thing after another.
Love is two fool things after each other!
