My father was raised Catholic, and my mother was raised Protestant. At just 19 years old, my mom gave birth to me, and we were very poor. My introduction to God and faith happened when I was still a baby in diapers. It’s a remarkable story!

One particularly hard day for my mom, the doorbell rang—or maybe it was a knock—but either way, when she answered, she was in tears. Standing there was a woman named Dorothy McNair. Dorothy would go on to become my spiritual mother, teacher, mentor, and friend.

Dorothy had endured her own heartache, having lost both her husband and 2-year-old son in one year from two separate tragic events. After their deaths, she devoted herself to offering Bible studies as a full-time Jehovah’s Witness pioneer. That day, she found herself at our door, where she met my mom in her time of need. Dorothy offered to care for me, and my mom, trusting her completely, handed me to her.

From that day forward, my spiritual journey began. Dorothy and I spent countless days together preaching, studying the Bible, and learning about God, Jesus, and ministry work. She read to me daily from the Book of Bible Stories. My favorite stories were about King Solomon and the true mother, as well as Moses as a baby. I loved babies then, and I still do now!

Dorothy taught me to memorize scriptures, including Revelation 21:4, which I recited to thousands of households over the years. As a toddler, I would knock on doors and stand on my tiptoes to ring doorbells. Dorothy often made me beautiful dresses, either hand-sewn or found at thrift stores. I felt proud to share the good news with her.

Beyond our ministry, Dorothy enriched my childhood with so much love and learning. After service, we’d visit the park to see tadpoles or observe birds and plants. Dorothy seemed to know the name of everything in nature and would remind me that all good things come from Jehovah. Whenever we saw a rainbow, she’d tell me the story of Noah with such conviction that I never questioned it.

At her modest home, Dorothy would make me grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato and mustard, paired with tomato soup with melted American cheese. I loved her root beer floats with a single scoop of vanilla ice cream too! After lunch, it was “school time,” where she taught me to read, write, and do math. She encouraged my creativity with art projects, letting me cut pictures from her better homes and gardens magazines and cement paste them onto colored construe paper.

Dorothy didn’t drive, so other Jehovah’s Witness sisters would take us to and from service. These women—Sisters Christina, Juanita, Valentine, and many others—became my extended family. I learned Spanish from Christina and Juanita, or at least pretended to! It was a joyful time in my life, full of close friendships and deep faith.

My father, however, wasn’t happy about me being raised as a Jehovah’s Witness. He once fired Dorothy as my nanny, fearing I’d become too devoted. But my parents couldn’t find anyone else as affordable or reliable, so Dorothy returned. I truly believe God had His hand in keeping her in my life.

When I turned eight, my family moved an hour away, and my parents had another baby. Dorothy ensured I stayed connected to the faith by introducing me to other Jehovah’s Witness families. I continued attending weekly meetings, assemblies, and ministry work. At 15, I made the decision to get baptized as a Jehovah’s Witness, dedicating my life to God. Coincidentally, my now-husband, whom I’ve known since I was eight, was baptized the same day in 1992.

Over the years, my faith shaped many decisions. In high school, I participated in a work-study program that allowed me to spend afternoons in ministry. After graduation, I moved to Texas to be a nanny for a Jehovah’s Witness family. There, I pioneered, attended college, and even learned sign language to translate meetings for a deaf sister in the congregation.

At 21, I returned to Pennsylvania and married my husband. Over the next decade, we had five sons. Those years brought both blessings and challenges that tested my faith. Our first son almost died at birth due to complications but was saved by the grace of God. Our second son was misdiagnosed with Down syndrome, and we refused doctors’ advice to terminate the pregnancy. He was born perfectly healthy.

In 2006, I experienced a life-threatening hemorrhage after the birth of our fourth son. At that time, I believed taking a blood transfusion was a sin, so I refused it, leaving my life in God’s hands. Despite the odds, I survived.

Ten years later, my perspective on faith shifted. I began to uncover truths about the Jehovah’s Witness organization that deeply troubled me. After reading Crisis of Conscience by Ray Franz, my eyes were opened to corruption within the organization. I left the faith in 2016 and contacted everyone I had ever studied the Bible with to share what I had learned.

My husband, our children, my mother, brother, and his family all left the organization as well. In 2017, my husband and I renewed our wedding vows and exchanged crosses for the first time. The following year, we were baptized again, along with our children, as Christians.

By 2020, life’s challenges tested my faith once more. Three of my children became atheists, one son came out as bisexual, and my marriage faced significant struggles. I felt abandoned by God and, for a time, turned away from Him. However, through prayer and seeking answers to my children’s doubts, my faith was restored. God revealed truths that amazed both me and my son.

Today, my faith is stronger than ever. My cross, gifted by my husband, serves as a daily reminder of my redemption through Christ. I believe God used my struggles to deepen my empathy and humility. While I regret the moments of darkness, I know God has forgiven me, and I am focused on moving forward in His grace.

Every lesson has drawn me closer to Him, and I trust that His plan for me is always good.