Language School or Bust!

When Vaughn and I finally came to terms with our engagement and our joint call to the ministry, we began to research the language school that we would be attending. It was 1984 and computers were an unheard of thing of the future. All we had to go on was a tri-fold flyer. The language school, King's Way Institute, looked like a quaint facilility. WRONG!!!!!

When we arrived, they immediately took us to our so-called 'apartment'. This was nothing more than a room at the end of a building. There were several things wrong with this place, other than the fact that it looked like it would fall down if you leaned on the walls. One, the person who lived there before us apparently spilled thousands of straight pins into the ugly brown shag carpet. Two, the bathroom smelled like a Frat-house latrine.

Eventually, we vacuumed most of the pins up (we still couldn't go barefoot in the living room) and they changed the carpet in the bathroom. It was the condition of our apartment that caused our first marital fight. One harrowing day, I informed Vaughn that I couldn't live in that sort of filth and I was going home to my parents. He said, "No you're not!" I said, "Yes, I am!" We squared off; me in the middle of the room and him in front of the door. I said, "You'd better move because I'm going to go out that door and call my Dad to come get me!" He said, "No, you're not!" I shook my shoulders like a raging bull and charged. I hit him square in the chest and bounced off like a kangaroo on a trampoline. I stumbled backwards and fell onto my butt. Then, Vaughn began to laugh (apparently it was rather humorous). After a few minutes, I cooled off and we talked it out. (Vaughn immediately went to the school office and made them change the carpet in the bathroom and loan us a vacuum.)

"The Call" Becomes a Reality

My family moved back to the mainland after about six-nine months in Hawaii. I was half-way through my senior year in high school. We settled in the city of West Monroe, Louisiana. While there, our family began to attend Victory Fellowship. The pastor was an old friend of our family, Billy Hornsby.

During our time there, I met a young man by the name of Vaughn Landry. When I first met him, I wasn't really sure what to think. He seemed a bit brash and somewhat obnoxious. I later learned that it was a misconception on my part. Vaughn was simply a determined young man with a burning call to win souls. This sometimes came off a bit rough, but I learned to respect his passion.

After high school, I started to attend the local university. My parents and brother had moved to Abilene, Texas, to start a new church. I stayed behind and lived with my grandparents. I also continued to go to Victory Fellowship.

It was during this time that I began to feel compelled to get involved with our church outreach program. Vaughn and his roommate, Joel Dyke, were some of the leaders of this program. So, I began to attend film campaigns in low income housing projects and pick up young teens for church on Sunday mornings. Needless to say, it was a VERY interesting experience.

Over the course of time, Vaughn and I became friends (mainly because I beat him at tennis and he kept wanting a rematch). Eventually, he asked me to marry him. Initially, I said yes. But, a few weeks later, Vaughn sat me down and explained that he had committed himself to go to Mexico as a missionary. He informed me that if I didn't want to go or if I couldn't be an asset to the call of God in his life, I should reconsider my original answer to his proposal. It was very cut-and-dry. He's like that...

I took this very seriously. Number one, I had no idea where Mexico was located. I was never that great at geography. Number two, I knew that God had called me into the ministry, but mission was a horse of a different color. I needed to seek God!

For many days, I struggled with this problem. Finally, pacing my bedroom like a madwoman, I told God that I needed an answer NOW! Vaughn was leaving for the mission field in less than two months! I waited a few minutes and nothing happened. Finally, I picked up my Bible and said, "God I'm going to throw this Bible on the bed. When it falls open, I expect to find my answer."

I threw the Bible on the bed and this is where it opened. Romans 10:14-17, "For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!"

It was a done deal. I knew that God was not only calling me to marry Vaughn Landry, but to be a missionary to Mexico.