Sister Green

I was born and raised in Arroyo Grande, California. I had a wonderful childhood, growing up on our property on Valley Road. Surrounded by walnut trees, apricot trees, with the Arroyo Grande Creek at the back of our property was a child’s dream.

I grew up in the Mormon church, being baptized by my dad at 8 years old. I would argue with my playmates at school when religion came up, that the Mormon church was the true church. We were very faithful to our church and its teachings.

When I was 11 years old and in the 6th grade, my dad was offered an opportunity to move to Inchon, South Korea for his job. My dad worked at the 76 refinery on the mesa in Arroyo Grande. He would be one of the employees in charge of training the South Koreans to run a new refinery they were building on the Inchon bay.

Although my older brother and I were not too keen on leaving our home, and friends and family, our family boarded an airplane in December 1970 headed for Korea.

While living there on a compound on the Inchon bay, we were not able to attend church on the army base in Seoul very often. You were only assigned a car and driver so many days per month, so we began to stray from our faith.

After arriving back home to the USA to stay in January of 1973, my mom and my two brothers and I began to settle back in. We were so happy to be back home in the “states”. We began to attend our church again.

My dad arrived back home in April with the devastating news that he wanted a divorce from my mom.

Our world was turned upside down. My dad’s mom was friends with a woman named Helen Miller. Her son had just gone through a divorce and was going to a new church (he had been a member of the Mormon church at one time also) and thought that maybe my mom and he could meet and talk.

Well, to make a long story short, my mom began to attend church with him at the Gospel Lighthouse in Grover City. It wasn’t long and my mom was baptized in Jesus Name and filled with the Holy Ghost. Her and my stepdad were married a year later.

My mom and stepdad told me that I could go to church anywhere, as long as I went to church. I continued to attend the Mormon church, but something was happening. As I listened to our Sunday School teacher, whom I had known all my life, I began to question what was said. My questions didn’t ever seem to be answered. I began to seek answers elsewhere. I attended some youth get togethers at my cousin’s church. But the answers weren’t there. Asking Jesus to be my personal savior didn’t change me. After a few months, my parents realized I wasn’t attending church at all, so I was told I had to go to church with them.

I wasn’t very happy about this. I knew that they were different, and I would have to really change my lifestyle. As a teenager, I was not wanting to do this. My parents would march us up to the front row in that little tiny building. I was so uncomfortable in my mini skirts and make up.

Finally, one night, I gave up the fight and began to pray at the altar. The feeling of being clean from repentance felt so good. It wasn’t long before God filled me with the Holy Ghost, and I was baptized in Jesus name.

Some of my siblings followed suit and were baptized in Jesus Name and filled with the Holy Ghost also.

I am so thankful that God found me in my sin, washed me, and saved me. That was over 40 years ago, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.