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James and Martha married on June 5, 1937.

After their wedding, James hitched a house trailer to his vehicle, and they started married life on the road preaching the Gospel. Martha’s accordion and James’s guitar added some musical numbers to their ministry.

Martha soon became anxious and frightened about her new world and the uncertainty of it all: not knowing where the next meeting would be, not knowing how much money they would receive, travel time between engagements, meeting and greeting new people, and not having a friend, supporter, helper, guide, or confidant—only James. James was busy preparing sermons, soliciting meetings, and trying to keep the car and trailer running. And she missed her sisters, Juanita and Barbara, and her new sister-in-law, Margaret.

Martha felt alone. Even though she attended services every night sharing the Good News of God’s salvation powers, that didn’t seem to satisfy her. Then, Martha started doing a lot of spitting; and on a visit to her parents, her mother said, “Martha, quit spitting! People will think you are pregnant.” Well, she was. It was not easy being on the road, and Martha’s anxieties grew. James and Martha arranged their schedule to be with Martha’s parents, Olas and Doll Hine, in Lebanon, Indiana, for Thanksgiving in 1939. Martha stayed with her parents until the birth. James continued his ministry. Lebanon had a good hospital. She was in a familiar environment with family and good support. It was not an easy pregnancy nor an easy birth. On December 10, 1939, their daughter came into the world after forceps were used to grasp, manipulate, and extract her, leaving her head brutally bruised. James was in Terre Haute, Indiana, but he rushed to Martha’s side. It is said this was the only service he ever canceled or didn’t show up for throughout his lengthy career.

James named their daughter Martha Ruth. Martha was wishing for Sharon Rose. Thinking about baby names, do we give enough time, research, and thought? Are they good-sounding ones, or do they remind us of someone in the family, or are we giving a toast in honor and recognition of a loved one? It was interesting that James, being a student and scholar of the Bible, would name his newborn Martha.

In the Bible, when Jesus visited the home of Mary and Martha, Martha was “cumbered about many things.” Mary sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he had to say. Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made.

Martha even came to the Lord and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work for myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.” Martha was more practical than spiritual. She was known for her obsession with housework.

The Biblical meaning of the name Martha is “bitter.” Ruth was the one in the Bible story who said, “Whither thou goest I will go.” No matter where? I find it interesting. Ruth was known to be virtuous, loyal, and faithful. She left her family, her gods, and her nationality and traveled to a new land she had never seen and where she knew no one.

As the story unfolds, maybe the balance of the two names together will “work.”

This is Martha Ruth.

I am Martha Ruth.

This is my story.

Grandmother Hine took good care of me and my mother.

Grandfather Hine stated that when he saw his first grandchild, I smiled and let him know that I was ready to get going.

The three of us were back on the road.

Within a few months, I was walking and starting a stir. My dad’s mother, Imogene, would visit and give my parents a breather. Grandmother Hertel encouraged me to express myself. She would read to me. We giggled together.

Grandmother gave me license to explore my surroundings, even if that meant tossing all the contents of the drawers onto the floor. I learned early on that it was fun having Grandma Hertel around. I was experiencing my first taste of being free, the freedom to be myself completely.

One evening, during my father’s sermon, I decided I wanted to have some fun, just like I did with Grandma. I stood up in the pew, looked around, giggled, and started acting out with some parishioners in the congregation. My father did not stop a beat with his sermon, but he came out of the pulpit and gave me a couple of whacks on the behind and continued. The fun stopped.

I was an active child, so my parents decided to place a leather leash on my wrist to keep me close to them. This was somewhat of a problem: Whether I jerked away or my parents were pulling on the leash, my wrists would frequently pop out of joint. In adulthood, I still show signs of disjointed wrists.

It was tough on the road from one engagement to another with services every night and very little money plus an active little one. The car and the trailer were aging, and the wear and tear on body and soul was a challenge.

My parents made a decision to seek ordination by the Pilgrim Holiness Church. My mother’s family were members and supporters of this denomination. My father had the proper credentials, excellent academic accomplishments, experience, and solid recommendations. He passed all the tests and interviews. He became an ordained minister in good standing for the Pilgrim Holiness Church.