At the age of twelve I, with my mother, two sisters, and a brother, was baptized in an orthodox church, for which I worked faithfully and conscientiously for many years. But experiencing much sickness in my family and losing several loved ones, I became discouraged and uninterested in religion and gradually drifted away from the church, feeling that there must be something more definite in religion than what I was getting from it.
However, I did not lose faith in God. I had had several proofs of His answer to prayer. But I did not read the Bible regularly—only when I felt greatly in need of His help. I realized I was not being fair to Him or to myself. I was still searching. For what? I did not know.
I was awakened one night with the feeling of severe congestion in my lungs. It was hard for me to breathe. I did everything I could think of that I had done for others, having had experience in practical nursing.
