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In 1937, we exchanged the North Dakota prairie dust of the Great Depression for a western cattle ranch on Myrtle Creek in northern Idaho. Before I became a teen, I milked cows, shot chickens for Sunday dinner; I was occasionally bucked off my saddle horse; I nearly drowned in Myrtle Creek and I harvested my first deer. I prayed my first public prayer. When I was sixteen, I was born again; I met Joyce Lee Lewis; during my college summers, I worked with the Trail Crew in Glacier National Park. I was face to face with a grizzly bear by Lake Josephine; I was flipped into Two Medicine Lake when...