The Bethel House has quite the background to it that we’d like to share with you. I, Annette, moved here when I was 5 years old…so…this house has been a part of my family for quite some time. Just like any home, there are good memories along with not-so-good memories.

 

My dad had, what is now the dining room and sitting area, built this addon and his plan was to open up the kitchen to become a very large kitchen and make the sitting area into a seasonal porch. Sadly, “agent orange” related cancer kicked in and he was never able to finish and it became a cold storage room that soon turned into just another junk room that could never be used. During this time when he was getting very sick, I watched my mom start to slightly deteriorate. (I had watched my mother-in-law pass away while caring for her husband, who passed away only a few months after her) I talked to my mom about taking care of herself, and she’d always say “yes”. But then nothing. We tried to get her out of the house but she never wanted to go. 

 

After my fathers death in 2014, my mom had fun ideas of what she wanted to do, places she wanted to go…but didn’t. She started sliding backward and it was really sad to watch. My father was a very wonderful man but at times, he was quite angry, which we found out later that was much related to PTSD from Vietnam. The stories (very few) he shared with us were horrifying and those stories were just the “pleasant” ones. I get it, he wanted to protect all of us from what he saw. (A side note…we did find something that really helped him through PTSD triggers…reflexology. When I performed reflexology on him, it would calm him down for a few days.)

 

Shortly after my dad died, I started having this huge inclination of paying my mom and dad’s house off. I didn’t know when and I certainly didn’t know how. I really didn’t know how much money they owed against it but that didn’t stop me from believing it would happen. Then I decided I would pay it off, whenever it happened, and not tell anyone about it. Why? Because I knew that when this happened it would be ONLY by the Lord doing it, through me and there were people in my life that would say something like “Oh, look at you…miss goody two-shoes!” So with that thought, the decision was made - it would be done in secret. I talked to my husband who was NOT in favor of us paying her mortgage off and then I found myself in quite the dilemma…”who” do I follow? What I believe was from the Lord or my husband? So what did I do? I kept walking forward believing that the Lord would pay her house off. Did it happen? Actually…with you reading this…here you are…in The Bethel House…it did happen. But not the way I thought…does the Lord ever do anything the way we think? Not that I’ve experienced. 

 

Let’s go back to when I wanted to pay the house off…a few years later I started having visions? Dreams? I’m not sure what you would call them but in any case, I started envisioning women gathering here. I didn’t know why, I really didn’t. I didn’t forget about them, just life kept moving forward and I kept believing in the Lord. Mom was still living there so I didn’t know if I was to take any kind of steps so I just kept believing it would happen…somehow, sometime.

 

During 2016, my husband found out he had stage III colorectal cancer and we traveled back and forth to Fargo (95 miles one-way) every day for 5 weeks to receive radiation while he had the chemo pump operating, round-the-clock, Monday - Fridays. During this time, I was exhausted, completely spent. Working, driving to and fro, riding with him in the semi so we kept the finances going, and then we’d get home, he’d go nap and I would go to work. So grateful for clients who were gracious enough to accommodate my schedule. I found myself, a caregiver, depleting myself, which is what I talked to my own mother about. But let me share…when a loved one is deathly ill like that, you find yourself in a different state of mind, where all of your focus is on helping them…maybe in healing them. Can I say that healing is NOT your responsibility. I knew that, but my mind had made this switch and I was doing whatever I could to help/heal him. Hardly nobody was offering to help so I was doing everything. Right in the middle of his chemo/radiation time the nurse asked me “is anyone helping you?” I very selfishly replied “NO! And they all know what we are going through”. She then said something that changed my perspective, “sometimes you just need to send out an S.O.S.” Even though I wanted to feel cared about and have others reach out to us on their own…I sent out an S.O.S and got a few responses. So, you might be wondering what does this have to do with The Bethel House? I promise, it has a HUGE part of the journey of The Bethel House…keep reading.

 

During this time, I created a 90-day journal that helped me with my focus when I finally realized that I wanted to help my husband more than he wanted my help. I had my journal printed out to help others go through the same thing.

 

When that darn cancer came back in 2019, God had given me a “word” for the year which was consistency. This time around though I asked my husband how I could help him. At first his answer was…”I’m done fighting.” Then a fire seemed to be lit under him and he wanted to live and fight for it and through the ugliness. There is so much more that I could write about but I want to stick with what is pertinent to The Bethel House. 

 

January 2020 my husband, of 21 years, said good-bye and he took his last breath. I returned back to work the first part of February, rather slowly, as I hadn’t worked for almost 2 months caring for him, day/night. Then Covid hit and I found myself, at home, completely alone and not knowing how the bills were going to get paid so I canceled anything that was not necessary…so the only thing I had was my phone which did not have data included. A couple days before the 4 month mark of him being gone, I grabbed a cup of coffee, my journal and headed out to the patio. I cried and I cried and I cried. I didn’t know where my life was going and would I even make it. Then the words just flowed onto paper…here is what was written…

 

Sitting on the patio all alone

Watching the cars go by

Memories flood in and through me

Without Mike - I just sigh.

 

What is my future

What do I do today?

I don’t know what to do for work

Do I just sit here and pray?

So many unknowns

So many delays

I sit here and wonder

Don’t even know what to say.

 

How do I walk in faith

When I don’t even know

How to reach out to HIM

I don’t even know how to sow.

 

My mind is blank

My faith seems weak

Day after day

How do I seek?

 

I know its the Lord

Who makes my path straight

But I feel like I don’t know how

So I sit here and wait.

 

Wait for what?

I have no clue

What is it Lord

Where are You?

 

You’re all around

But I feel so bound

 

Like shackles and chains

A prisoner of the past

I can’t seem to let go

Is time moving slow or fast?

 

What is today?

Who do I see?

I look in the mirror

And oh, it’s only me.

 

With all the imperfections

The beauty seems gone

Maybe it was never there

It was a vapor all along.

 

What is real? What is true?

Why can I not find You?

 

Where are You Lord?

I want you here

But You’re no where to be found

You’re no where near.

 

So I sit here and wait

For You to whisper - for You to say

Something that makes sense to me

Something to show me the way.

 

Are You here?

I feel alone

I don’t see or hear You

You there, on the throne

 

Have You forgotten me?

What have I done so wrong?

I feel so alone

Where do I belong?

 

How do I pray?

There seems no way.

I feel like I have nothing more to say.

 

No answers - no questions

It’s all a blank slate.

Is this what regrowth is

Death like fate?

 

No desire to be with others

Not even from church.

Just stuck in the mud

No struggle, no lurch

 

I seem to care less

What is wrong with me?

Why? Why? Why?

Is this what life is to be?

 

This poem seems to be

From a different part of my heart

A place that’s been hidden?

There’s no beauty in this art.

 

No beauty comes from darkness

Is that what this is?

Something so ugly and dark

Something so amiss?

 

Is this You Lord

Showing me these?

Have You not forgotten me?

Let it be You please

 

Growth starts in the dark

And it does take time.

But I want you to know child

That you are Mine!

 

The tears you have shed

The heartaches you’ve endured

Have not been missed, child

They’ve been recorded, for sure.

 

You have never been forgotten

I know the hair on your head

My arms are always out for you

My dear child, you are not dead.

 

You have hurt and pain

That needs to surface,

What you’re in

Is the fiery furnace.

 

The bondage, the abuse

All needs to be let go.

Hold on dear child

You’re about to sow…

 

…All that you’ve been through

For all the years past

The bondage will be gone

You’ll be truly free at last!

The time will come

When you can peacefully breathe

And you’ll never question again

If you are without Me.

 

After writing these words, something in me turned. A few days later was Michael’s 4 month anniversary of his trip home to Heaven. Then of course…my garage door broke. I wanted to send a text out to the group of men at one of the churches Michael and I attended, who help widows and I honestly felt like I was to put this request on Facebook. I did NOT want to do that. I had no issue with others knowing where I lived, I didn’t want just anybody to see what all was in that garage…my husband’s tools. A friend responded that he could come over at 5pm and look at it. I felt a huge sigh of relief knowing he was coming to look at it. I didn’t know him well but well enough to know he was ok. He came over - and fixed it in no time at all. I don’t know what happened but I was pretty giddy inside. The next night, Friday of Memorial Weekend, for the first time, I thought “Here it is a beautiful night and I’m sitting here all alone.” I lit the campfire and messaged Mark (who came over the night before to fix the garage door) “if you’re bored {which I’m pretty sure you’re not bored} you could come sit with me on my porch.” I didn’t hear anything back from him and in the meantime, the campfire was just smoldering…no flames at all. I grabbed the garden hose and doused it where there was a foot of water in the pit. Then the message came in from Mark saying he was on his way over. We sat there, talking, then he asked if I would like to ride with him to check on his cows. Sure…what else did I have to do?! Nothing…absolutely nothing! I locked up and he opened the door for me to his pickup and off to see his cows. On the way, I asked him if he would like to go on a FRIEND date when the restaurants open…yes was his response. We got to the field where the cattle was and got out and walked out to them…then back to the pickup we went. As we were heading back towards my place he asked if I minded if we stopped by the farm to check on the other horses, of course! As he was driving he commented “I suppose they are all in the back field.” Secretly I was hoping they were because I was enjoying this…and yep, they were. We got out to spend a little time with them. Then it was time to head home. This is the most amazing part…seriously, this really happened. The moment he drove into my driveway, the campfire lit (still in a foot of standing water). I asked him if he would like to stay for a campfire. He did! We laughed, we cried (we talked about my late husband and we talked about his late wife - who had passed away a couple years prior)...this was life. Well, the campfire wasn’t the only thing that lit and him fixing my garage door wasn’t the only thing that got fixed. 3 weeks later he asked me to marry him and I accepted. We reserved the church for 10-10-2020 but I had no interest in planning a wedding…don’t know why, just didn’t. July 23rd, Mark and I went to the courthouse and got our marriage license and then later he picked me up for Bible Study. We grabbed a pizza and went to the park, over looking the river, when he asked me if I wanted to get married at Bible Study…I was like “Whaaaat?!” Then I thought…why not. We know what we want and I won’t move out there until we’re married. So….off to Bible Study we went. My friend, who was to be my matron of honor was dressed up, with her hair and makeup done…which was not like her at all. She said “The weirdest thing…I felt like wearing a dress tonight and felt like having my niece do my hair and makeup.” Mark and I both chuckled. We all headed outside to start Bible Study and my friend said “Annette, I’m so excited to go shopping for your wedding…I’m going to wear a dress.” In unison Mark and I said “you are!” She gave us a puzzled look and that’s when Mark asked Pastor Andy if he would do us the honors to marry us tonight after Bible Study. LOL

 

We were blessed with a beautiful pregnancy which our little girl, Joy Rae, ended up leaving us and going to Heaven in October

 

The beginning of December my mother passed away. After much discussion between my sibling and I and our families. We weren’t sure what to do with this house. Driving back from my office in Detroit Lakes one day, I “heard” to turn it into a House of Restoration…what did this mean? Then the ideas started flowing…to list it on AirBnB but also host retreats for women caring for loved ones that are ill who need a respite, even if that means only for a couple hours…and also for widows. For them to know they matter! After sharing this with my family, I did say though that if the family wanted to move in, please do so…but their decision, a couple months later, was they didn’t want it. So the process began for my husband and I to purchase my childhood home and that came to a reality on Aug 13 of 2021. Naming it The Bethel House on Fish Hook seemed very fitting. November 2021 I received a letter saying indicating my mom’s mortgage has been satisfied. The dream and the vision is coming to fruition and with you reading this while you’re staying at The Bethel House, I continue to stand in awe.

 

Our hope is that your stay here is refreshing, restful and fruitful!

 

Thank you for the opportunity to serve you!