Her first name means "lamb", and her last name means "eagle ruler". Her maiden name, Campbell, speaks of her Scotch thrift and the ringing tenor voices of her male relatives. Her personality perfectly matches a lamb.
Her husband went to be with the Lord during a Wednesday night tape service in 1998. He was in the back room to flip over the tape, and when the tape didn't continue, the believers found him in his wheelchair in perfect peace. This was after a prolonged illness and crippled condition that had lasted ten years. Sis. Aggie told me that this drawn-out process was prophesied to her by Bro. Joseph Branham at the onset of Bro. Al's condition.
The same month that Bro. Al passed away, I graduated from high school and was planning to attend USC in Columbia to study music. I had begun to serve the Lord in earnest, and I didn't want to live on a college campus. We asked around, and the same day that another lead fell through, I received a letter from Sis. Aggie saying that she and Martha had discussed this, and they were inviting me to live there while I went to school.
I would consider "live at their house" to be a meager description of the experiences I had in their home. They adopted me as an extra daughter and sister. Sis. Aggie cooked nightly for me and made sure I had food in the fridge that I could take for lunches. The mornings when I didn't have classes became my "other" education. Testimonies of her experiences with Bro. Branham and being healed of heart trouble on the way to Jeffersonville, growing up in rural South Carolina, raising her five children, her gifted dreams, experiences with other believers through the years... Those were the rich mornings.
Martha was quiet and observant, and she bemusedly grinned at my late-teenage effusions over schoolwork and offered common sense advice. When Sarah came down for a visit, the whole house exploded in laughter, and something was always redecorated or rearranged. As for the sons, Sis. Aggie informed me that her youngest son David could be depended on to complete her home renovations the exact way she wanted them, but her middle son James would usually add his own improvements that were not what she asked for. He always made things a little fancier than what she'd requested. Her older son Al Jr. lived fairly close by and frequently stopped in to say hello and help out wherever something needed to be done.
It was at her home that I had the opportunity to read the Here I Stand (download link) publication when it was released. To me, it lined up with Bro. Branham's instructions, though I hadn't been previously aware of those issues. About eighty percent of the time, when I entered the house, there was a tape playing, and she was calmly listening on the sofa.
I first encountered natural living at Sis. Aggie's house. She had Dr. Weil's magazines lying around, and she told me how she taped garlic pieces to skin cancer spots on her forehead and they went away. I first tasted rutabagas in her kitchen. I thought they were pale sweet potatoes. Boy, was I surprised. I loved her rutabagas.
Sis. Aggie told me that her go-to scripture for prayer was Matthew 6:6. Her prayer closet was in my room, the add-on at the back of the house. She said that she always received an answer when she prayed in that closet.
Several times during my four years there, Sis. Aggie mentioned a family of believers from Marion that had two boys. The dad was a music teacher. This information entered one ear and exited the other.
That was, until Bro. Billy Paul Branham came to South Carolina in 2001, and we were all present in the crowd. It was that June evening that she told me she had someone she wanted me to meet. She then disappeared as New Daddy and I began our conversation. He was the nicest person I'd ever met; he asked me questions about my interests and deflected interest from himself. I hadn't really encountered that kind of humility before. On the way home, I thought that he was the kind of person I could marry and definitely wanted to hear more about that family after that. At our wedding the following year, Sis. Aggie sat in the spot where New Daddy's grandparents would have been.
We weren't the only couple that the Arnettes had introduced, because they knew almost every believer in South Carolina and Georgia. Bro. Al would take anyone who wanted to visit Jeffersonville up there for a tour. He drove my parents there for the first time, with an eight year-old Sarah in the back seat bantering with him. Anyone passing through Columbia stopped by and listened to Bro. Al. You didn't talk; you simply enjoyed his enormous gift of gab. When he passed, Sis. Aggie took over the storytelling legacy in her soft spoken way. They were a bit known for matchmaking, and we were no exception.
What a special family. What a privilege I had to begin adulthood in this blessed home. God has been more than good to me. He gives us the best gifts.
Until we meet again, my precious sister, rest well.
Her husband went to be with the Lord during a Wednesday night tape service in 1998. He was in the back room to flip over the tape, and when the tape didn't continue, the believers found him in his wheelchair in perfect peace. This was after a prolonged illness and crippled condition that had lasted ten years. Sis. Aggie told me that this drawn-out process was prophesied to her by Bro. Joseph Branham at the onset of Bro. Al's condition.
The same month that Bro. Al passed away, I graduated from high school and was planning to attend USC in Columbia to study music. I had begun to serve the Lord in earnest, and I didn't want to live on a college campus. We asked around, and the same day that another lead fell through, I received a letter from Sis. Aggie saying that she and Martha had discussed this, and they were inviting me to live there while I went to school.
I would consider "live at their house" to be a meager description of the experiences I had in their home. They adopted me as an extra daughter and sister. Sis. Aggie cooked nightly for me and made sure I had food in the fridge that I could take for lunches. The mornings when I didn't have classes became my "other" education. Testimonies of her experiences with Bro. Branham and being healed of heart trouble on the way to Jeffersonville, growing up in rural South Carolina, raising her five children, her gifted dreams, experiences with other believers through the years... Those were the rich mornings.
Martha was quiet and observant, and she bemusedly grinned at my late-teenage effusions over schoolwork and offered common sense advice. When Sarah came down for a visit, the whole house exploded in laughter, and something was always redecorated or rearranged. As for the sons, Sis. Aggie informed me that her youngest son David could be depended on to complete her home renovations the exact way she wanted them, but her middle son James would usually add his own improvements that were not what she asked for. He always made things a little fancier than what she'd requested. Her older son Al Jr. lived fairly close by and frequently stopped in to say hello and help out wherever something needed to be done.
It was at her home that I had the opportunity to read the Here I Stand (download link) publication when it was released. To me, it lined up with Bro. Branham's instructions, though I hadn't been previously aware of those issues. About eighty percent of the time, when I entered the house, there was a tape playing, and she was calmly listening on the sofa.
I first encountered natural living at Sis. Aggie's house. She had Dr. Weil's magazines lying around, and she told me how she taped garlic pieces to skin cancer spots on her forehead and they went away. I first tasted rutabagas in her kitchen. I thought they were pale sweet potatoes. Boy, was I surprised. I loved her rutabagas.
Sis. Aggie told me that her go-to scripture for prayer was Matthew 6:6. Her prayer closet was in my room, the add-on at the back of the house. She said that she always received an answer when she prayed in that closet.
But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet,
and when thou hast shut thy door,
pray to thy Father which is in secret;
and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.
Several times during my four years there, Sis. Aggie mentioned a family of believers from Marion that had two boys. The dad was a music teacher. This information entered one ear and exited the other.
That was, until Bro. Billy Paul Branham came to South Carolina in 2001, and we were all present in the crowd. It was that June evening that she told me she had someone she wanted me to meet. She then disappeared as New Daddy and I began our conversation. He was the nicest person I'd ever met; he asked me questions about my interests and deflected interest from himself. I hadn't really encountered that kind of humility before. On the way home, I thought that he was the kind of person I could marry and definitely wanted to hear more about that family after that. At our wedding the following year, Sis. Aggie sat in the spot where New Daddy's grandparents would have been.
We weren't the only couple that the Arnettes had introduced, because they knew almost every believer in South Carolina and Georgia. Bro. Al would take anyone who wanted to visit Jeffersonville up there for a tour. He drove my parents there for the first time, with an eight year-old Sarah in the back seat bantering with him. Anyone passing through Columbia stopped by and listened to Bro. Al. You didn't talk; you simply enjoyed his enormous gift of gab. When he passed, Sis. Aggie took over the storytelling legacy in her soft spoken way. They were a bit known for matchmaking, and we were no exception.
What a special family. What a privilege I had to begin adulthood in this blessed home. God has been more than good to me. He gives us the best gifts.
Until we meet again, my precious sister, rest well.
2008, her 80th birthday
at the dedication of James, Al, and Martha:
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