G O D I N A G O D F O R S A K E N L A N D  9 reach shore where I could walk. “God, You are here! You bear me up.” My coat and buffalo robe were so heavy with water that I could not stand as I neared shore. I struggled to get out of the soaked clothes and fought my way out of the water. Shedding the waterlogged garments, I was able to reach solid land. As I looked upstream, I saw that my horse had somehow ar- rived at the shore and was dragging the wagon with her. The old mare stood there, head drooping down and her sides heaving, yet she was like a beacon from God, having made the journey along with me. She gave me hope, and I knew my faith was not in vain. Even my bag of belongings bobbed against the shore, and my trunk lay among a clump of brown reeds. As God declared in Isaiah 43:2, “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” Indeed, this was my Valley of the Shadow. Now I could fear no evil. God was with me, even here. I knew that I was in Minnesota with God’s purpose and he was guiding me. Letting go of the wagon; trusting that I would be borne up by God. Letting go and trusting; a change. Fear had vanished and been replaced by faith. I knew I would survive the winter. The crossing—what a revela- tion. I understood that He would be with me always. The faith of the eternal crossing was made plain in the reality of a lonely and treacherous river. Near the river, as my faithful horse slogged along, I saw a wisp of smoke. A humble farm with a sod wall banked into a hillside and a simple log barn loomed in front of me. I was able to arrive at a farm. They took me in and helped me get dry so I could con- tinue. Mrs. Krueger, wrapped in a ragged wool blanket, turned to my horse and exclaimed, “Oh such a wet and cold beast,” and led her to the barn with its relative warmth and a bit of precious grain. Adolf Krueger, fully bearded, with a soiled wool cap pulled over his ears, walked me to the leather-hinged door of their shel- ter dug into the side of a hill. The home was dark but warm; small