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Senior Year Reflection

Some days I wish I had a telepathic thought converter that would take the thoughts that I have and transfer them to a document. It would definitely make writing my blogs so much easier. It seems like I have all these thoughts and experiences that fly through my mind’s eye in a day, and I don’t want to forget any of the details of what I think or remember.

As I move through the seasons of the year, it triggers these memories of the life I have lived and the emotions that flood my being are something too much to communicate or even try to express in any way, so most time they are just held in. Until the right moment presents itself to release them. For me, that is most times when I’m alone, or with my amazing wife, Chrissy.  I think perhaps I do this because it’s a safe environment for me to be me.

One thing I am discovering is that the more I do write, the more I’m letting some of the inner me out. The hard part is that even those who know me are perhaps are seeing a different side to me that most may have never known or seen. This is actually a bit intimidating and at the same time, freeing.

So, what’s with all the self-reflection and such? Over the last few months, Chrissy and I have been through some difficult times…the kind of things that cause everyone who goes through them to question everything, and that is okay. It’s actually has made us think and talk about things that we normally don’t discuss, and that has been good. In the mist of all this, life just keeps going on. It hits me now that we have plans that we have made and committed to rapidly approaching.

For example, a trip we have planned with our entire family is coming up soon. This may not seem to be a big deal, but somehow, we have grown our family to a total of 12 people and I’m sure there will be future additions to that number. Still, that’s a lot of people, especially to go on a trip with! This trip is one of those special trips that Chrissy and I really wanted to have happen. See, this year we have a high school senior in our home. Now, yes, we have had this before- 3 times before to be exact.

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The first child graduating was difficult and thinking about all that goes with your first born moving on to the next phase of their lives with all the unknown things and hopes and dreams you have for them and that they have for themselves. Then they move out, get married and all of a sudden, you’re a grandparent. Whew, looking back that was pretty quick, and before we knew it, we had 2 more graduates, another grandbaby, and another wedding, followed by 2 more grandkids. Talk about a blur. That brings me to the moment of reflection over the final of the four. The baby of the family.

Then it starts to creep in. This will be that last time you will be doing this senior thing. Not only that, but what you have done for the last 27 years is going to change a bit, because all the kids are soon going to be out on their own. Oh, sure they may linger in the nest for a bit longer, and that is all cool. No rush on our part.

What I think is the hardest part is remembering what you have done or not done and not being able to change that at all. If you stay in that place too long, you can start to second guess all you have done and whether or not it was the best for them.

A friend has a jar of marbles on his desk representing the number of weekends he has left before his first-born graduates. This was pretty cool to watch his countdown, but unconsciously I was having my own countdown without the marbles. I lost all mine after kid 2 or 3. (I feel a bit like the Lost Boy “Tootles” from Peter Pan, he lost his marbles too.) I believe that I almost have not wanted to think about this season of life coming, but here it is.

I want to say that I am so very proud of all my kids, what they are doing, and who they are becoming. I’m so impressed with the people they have become and are going to be. People full of God’s love and kindness, people who have courage as well as integrity. One of the best things has been to see how they take care of each other and hold each other accountable to the level of what it really means to be a “Hunter.”

For you Si-guy, my daredevil, the world’s most okay-est barista. I can only start to say how proud I am of you and all that you have accomplished. I am very excited to see where you go and what you do in the coming years. As I have always told you kids, whatever you want to do you can accomplish, just be sure to lay your plans out before the Lord and let Him have the final say on your endeavors. Follow him and walk in His ways. Always keep Him the most important thing in your life.

Stay humble and teachable. Be observant, always seeing what others do and don’t do. This will help you make wise choices. Be bold and passionate about what you believe in, especially when others try to steal your joy and passion about what you believe to be right. Let their words and intentions build you up in a positive way, not letting them destroy or devour you. Those who try to bully or humiliate you are only trying to bring you down to their level because they have a desire be like you in some way, but since they are struggling to make it where to where you are, they try to pull you down to where they are. Be merciful to them, show them love and grace in their ignorance. Still, beware not to fall into the same pit with those you secretly look up to also.

Gather friends to walk with you on this adventure; choose friends that you can trust, ones that will edify you and that are strong in your weak areas, so that they can join you in obtaining your goals. This makes the achievement of the goal you set so much sweeter because you have others surrounding you who genuinely care about you and what you’re working to achieve.

When you outgrow others, don’t be bitter, but be full of compassion and understanding. Stay gentle with an open mind. Keep good boundaries and hold firm to them; good boundaries can protect you from strife and heartache. Breathe deep, experience life and all the beauty that God has place in it for you. Be kind to others and most times they will be kind to you. Always remember where you’re from, and that you are a Hunter, and more importantly, you are a child of the King of Kings.

Always remember:

 

God loves you more than anyone.

Love him more than anything or anyone and love those around you as yourself.

Always be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.

Do everything that you do for the glory of God.

Your Mom and Dad are proud of you and love you more than anyone ever could!

 

I believe, if you have more than one child, the last is always the one you reflect on the most. You also hope you did all you could to help them be the person God showed you that they could become. Being parent is hard, but it can be the best thing you ever do. Then you become Popz and Abi, and it gets indescribably better!

 

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Scottish Paws

I’ve been thinking back to the days that I first heard the wobble and whoosh that gave way to the steady beating of a heart in each of my kids, remembering all the emotions that burst through, unveiling the thoughts of the possibilities of the life to come. The adventures that will be had, the love that will be shared, the memories that will be created. All to be cherished and looked back on as a priceless treasure no one could ever steal or destroy.

Lost in a moment of deep memories, my mind flips to memories to the other side. The side of looking at life through the eyes of a child. The memories of what it was like to grow up. The memories of love and pain, adventures and struggles hit me like a wall of water that swallows me to the point of almost drowning. Gasping for a breath, I struggle to the surface, following that familiar beating sound that steadily encourages me to push on up to the breaking point. Pushing through, breathing deeply, I clear my mind to focus on the sound of the heart monitor beating steadily. I’m whisked back to reality to knowing that when I focus my vision, life will not have miraculously changed.

My Dad will still be in the hospital. He will still be on the ventilator, and the future will still be uncertain. I can’t go back in time to change or prevent anything that has happened. He had fallen and hit his head, and then because of that first fall, he fell two more times over a few days causing more injury to his head. This, in turn, caused stroke-like symptoms that needed to be treated within the ICU. That is how we arrived at this point. He had to have brain surgery to alleviate the pressure in his brain that the blood had caused. This, in turn, was making his symptoms worsen. This is where we are now.

I say to myself, one last touch before I’m drug back to overwhelming reality. I reach out and clasp onto the thick, strong, familiar rough surface that I have hung onto for safety so many times before. A dear friend of mine, Gerri, always called these particular type hands Scottish paws. This seems to be a common trait of someone with a Scottish heritage. But this time is different than other times I have held his hand.

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There is no return in the grasp. I breathe deep holding onto the air in my lungs, I clearly hear and feel my own heartbeat, almost in sync with the monitor.

At that moment, it was like all the memories of life gone past flew through me. I tried to lock onto one, but just as quick as they fly into reach, they are snatched away, replaced with others. 49 years of experiences flutter by like fingers skimming the pages of a thick, old book. Some pictures impress deeper than others, causing me to laugh, others make my heart sink a little deeper.

The ones that hung with me were some of the stories I loved to hear him tell over and over again.

Like the time our family went to the shore and brought back crabs. I was young, maybe 5, if that. I can still smell that pungent crustaceans’ odor. As the story goes, there were some stray cats that loved to sit on our porch, singing and wooing the night away. The loud calls of the lovesick felines drove my parents nuts. So, my dad got the bright idea of using his saltwater catch to its fullest potential.  As the story goes, he placed the crabs out on the front porch where the cats would gather for their nightly serenade. I have no clue how he kept the crabs on the porch, but I do remember the occasional screech of a cat being pinched. For some reason, the chorus of cats never came back to our house.  I don’t know why this one has stuck with me so strongly, other than that he would laugh every time he told it.

Another thing that resurfaced was the many times my dad was willing to help me try and achieve a new goal or be willing to do some of the craziest things. Back when I was teen, I started a Christian singing group, and we would use backtracks to sing and added some simple choreography. My dad was our sound guy. He would hit play on the tape deck and adjust microphone levels. He would also flip the toggle switches on our custom light board that he had made. This was his thing, and whether he would admit it or not, he loved doing it. Somewhere along the line, we got him a sunvisor from a Christian music radio station to wear when he was on the job. This was no ordinary sunvisor, folks, oh no, this visor had small chasing LED lights powered by a 9v battery attached to the back strap. He called it his “Kit Hat” because it was like the hood light on the car in the TV show Knight Rider.

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Another funny example of the ends to which he would go to help is when I entered a lip sync contest. There was $75.00 of Christian music at stake here. This was a huge deal! So, I came up with an idea to perform. Just to make sure the odds were in my favor, I entered three different times once by myself, second with my singing group “Live Wires For Christ,” then lastly as a trio. The trio didn’t start out as a trio. At first, it was only my best friend at the time, Sam, with me. I thought it would be fun to do a funny song that had… shall I say an Italian flair. Sam was a proud Italian and loved to let everyone know it. So, the song we wanted to do was by an artist named Carman; the song was called “Spirit-filled Pizza.”

We started to plan out our song and what we would do to act it out and everything was awesome, until we got to the last part of the song, because we needed just one more person to make it really work.

Here is the idea of the story portrayed in the song. Two cousins wanted pizza, so one sends the other out to an uncle’s pizza joint. But the one going to get the pizza got distracted, wandered into a church and got saved. When he returned to his cousin, he “claimed” his life for Jesus. Then six months later the other cousin accepts Jesus. Then all he wants to do is find his little brother, and claim his life for the Lord. And that is the song in a nutshell.

So, we had Sam and me, but we needed a little brother. Somehow, we convinced my dad to play the part of the little brother. My dad has a full beard and is pretty straight-faced. He was not the upfront, on-stage kind of person unless it had to do with being a cub scout pack leader. He was kind of a serious guy. Dad has always worn jeans or work pants, with a pocketed polo, and most of his polo shirts were of a pastel color. You could always find a pen and a small tablet in the shirt pocket, and if you saw him right after work, he would have half a Zagnut or Butterfinger bar in there too.

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So, besides dad being like a fish out of water with this, he had one other issue that no one thought of. On the week of the contest, my dad had his teeth removed, and had false teeth made. He got his new teeth the day before the contest. I recall him having a difficult time with the fit of the dentures. He was saying that unless he clinched his teeth together they felt like they would fall out or worse he was afraid that if he squeezed too hard they may pop right out of his mouth. As a teen, this all seemed very amusing to me at the time. I assured him that it would all be good, and we would go easy on him.

See, when it came to the part of the little brother, dad would come out, sit down. Sam and I would grab ahold of him, kind of doing the revival evangelist routine, pushing him back and forth with laying on of hands and such. We really did shake him a bit, but I promised we would tone it back a bit for the actual performance.

When it came time for our number, everything was going great. We had the audience eating out of our hands. Then it was time for my dad when he came out the crowd erupted and that energy transferred to Sam and I, and we hammed it up. The only thing dad could do was sit there and hold on to his teeth for dear life. He couldn’t help but laugh. So, he sat there looking at us like we were crazy, but he had the funniest smile that didn’t change throughout the whole time. He looked like the Cheshire cat smiling.

He admitted at some point his teeth started to move but he kept them in his mouth. We came away with third place with that song. The song I did alone actually won first place. I have a VHS tape of the contest; I’m sure it would make great YouTube content.

I could go on with other experiences that stick like glue, trains and slot racers, matchbox cars, touring buses. He always wanted his own touring bus/RV. I’m sure as any dad, he had and has dreams and hopes for me and my children. All too much to take in, but in times like these, we long to drink from the firehose to get as much as we can, because the moments are not guaranteed.

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The visions that rush my head are overwhelming, but the one thing that is a common thread that he showed and taught me was love. You work with what you have and do your best to provide for those who God has entrusted to you, all the while loving in a way that is so deep that it’s almost impossible to express. All except when you feel the touch of a rough, strong hand grab on to your hand, and then you just somehow know. You know that you are loved, and have been loved as only a proud pop can love.

It almost physically hurts to let go, but the hope is there that better days are coming. Knowing that three things remain… faith, hope, and love, which love is the greatest of these. Love is all we really have to give and receive. To quote my dad’s favorite band of all time, The Beatles, “All you need is Love. Love is all you need.”

As I write, my dad is still fighting to overcome this place that he is in. My faith stays solid, and I look to the future with the hope that he will recover. I’ve been told that it will be a very long road to recovery. The daily updates give me more hope that this 73-year-old man has a chance to live a vibrant life again.

 

 

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Where’s My Partner?

Have you ever been surprised buy something in a good way so much that you cherish each second that passed as it unfolded before your eyes? I have, and I also know that experiences like this are hard to pull together and execute effectively. I’m really hard to surprise. I have a innocent way of putting pieces together when something is going on. I sometimes can pick up on the little things when I’m not supposed to, and then I end up soiling the surprise for myself.

Then on the other side of things, let someone try to leave intentional clues or hints to something that I should be able to figure out, and I’m usually late to the game. I totally miss my cue and mess things up.

When I do figure things out, I have a tendency to get really mad at myself and disappointed. I have a difficult time hiding my feelings when I feel like I do something dumb. This is then taken by others that I’m not happy with whatever is happening. Which is most times the furthest thing from the truth.

So when these seasons of the year come around when surprises may take place I somehow subliminally ignore things so I don’t mess things up. This is usually when Chrissy tries to communicate something with subtle hints, and I totally miss it. Then I’m in trouble, rightly so.

One last thing before I get into this story, I don’t know why but for some reason, birthdays are hard for me. I get a little moody and depressed. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that I’m getting older, which is stupid, we all get older. Then it also maybe the time that I allow myself to look back on the past too much. I try to live in positivity, but it’s easy to slip into the negative areas of life and start to focus on what you have failed at or disappointments you have had. With all that said, it’s hard to surprise me, especially around my birthday.

Now, this was not the case on this occasion few years back. I had been given a surprise that will forever stay as one of the best birthday surprises I have ever had. Chrissy would be the first to tell you that I like to dance. I may not be the best at, it but hey, as long as you’re having fun, do it, and you’re not hurting anyone, right? (I try not to step on toes).

So, on this particular year, Chrissy told me that we were going somewhere for my birthday and told me I needed to wear clothes I could move in, but look nice, and I had to have shoes with leather soles. I was then told not to question anything. She ended by assuring me that I would have a great time.

As the day of our mysterious date approached, I remember having a hard time finding the right shoes, but everything else was easy. And, eventually, I did find some shoes.

I remember the day as if it was yesterday. It was a Sunday afternoon, and there was a knock on the door; it was one of our babysitters. She said, “Hi, I’m all set to watch the kids!” At this point it seemed like everyone knew what was going to take place, but me.

Chrissy came out to the living room dressed very pretty, but that’s nothing hard for her. She took a deep breath and said, “Ok, you ready to go?

I said, “Where we going?

“No questions! I have directions, you just need to drive.”

So, as we left the house my mind was racing about where we could possibly be going. As we passed certain land marks, I crossed off ideas that I had formed in my head.

She had me go to an area that I had never been before. As I drove, there were all these huge pole barn like buildings. Itlooked like an industrial warehouse area. She gave me directions from her piece of paper, turn up here on the right. If I said the I wasn’t excited, I would be lying. If I said I wasn’t a bit fearful of what was to come, it would be a lie too. You know how your stomach gets tight right before you do something that is exciting and scary all together? Well, that was me.

Chrissy shouted, “Here! Turn here!”

It was a huge building with a big stone parking lot, only a few cars in the lot.

I asked, “Are you sure this is where we are going?

She said, “I think so.”

Then she glanced at the building and looked back at me with a sparkle in her eye and a nervous smile.

She said, “Yep, this is it. We may be a little early, so let’s wait until we see someone else go in.”

This is customary for Chrissy, especially when we are doing something new or she is unsure of where we should be.

We sat in the car and waited for what seem like forever. Finally, cars stared to pour in, and people went in the door on the side of the building. We got out and made our way to the building that’s when Chrissy looked at me and took another deep breath and nervously said, You better know that I love you, and you better like this! Happy birthday!

I asked, “What is it?” as we entered a door that said something about a club. We went through the door and rounded a corner. The entrance opened up into huge hall with a wooden floor and a stage. There were tables and chairs surrounding the polished floor. I looked at her and said, “What is this? And what are we doing?”

“Surprise!”she said with a smile.

All in one breath with her words running together she said, “We’re going to learn how to swing dance. Oh gosh, what was I thinking? This was such a dumb idea!”

Chrissy has never enjoyed dancing; she has always found an excuse not to dance. She will stand and sway to the music, and if I am lucky, I can get her to slow dance with me. On our wedding day, I think if her Nanny wouldn’t have given her something for her nerves, we would have never made it through the reception. So, for her to even attempt to learn how to dance was huge. Just thinking about this gift she gave me chokes me up.

I grew up dancing with my mom and every once in a while, if there was a good song playing on the oldies station Dad would grab mom’s hand, and they would cut the rug together. Of course, I would cut in and try to learn whatever it was that they were doing. The twist, mash potato, jitterbug, the stroll, just to name a few. Our dance floor was most commonly in the kitchen. Like I said dancing was something I loved, but for Chrissy it was not. She would rather do something else, anything else. So, when I say this was a huge thing, it’s really not an exaggeration at all.

I grabbed her hand, pulled her in close, and said, Thank you, but you don’t have to do this.”

The truth was that I was a bit nervous too. Being a person with dyslexia, I find that following instructions about left and right can be a bit of a challenge; one that still haunts me from childhood to this day.

She looked me in the eyes and said, “Oh we’re doing this.”

Just then a call from the floor came. We were told to get into a circle with our partner facing us. So we would have a big circle, then a smaller circle inside the big one.

We were welcomed, and given an outline for the night. We were told this was an introductory class to swing dance. Then followed with some basic instructions. Honestly, I don’t remember most of what was said. What I do remember is Chrissy looking at me saying, “I can’t do this!” And with every new move, she would giggle and the giggles turned into anxious laughs. We were having fun and getting comfortable with what we were learning, when all of a sudden, we heard the words “Switch! Outside move to the left. The panic and anxiety on Chrissys face was like someone told her she had to get naked.

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She looked at me and said, “No way!”Then she was somewhat pushed to another partner. This kept happening, we were slowly making our way around the circle. With each new partner, our eyes would meet, and she would silently mouth the words “HELP ME!”

Chrissy was about 6 people away and the next time the instructor said to switch, she quickly ran over to me, and politely said to the person next in line, “He’s my partner,please just skip us. She kept this up though out the rest of the evening, in spite of the instructor’s side comments and dirty looks. I believe she even said out loud once or twice while looking at me, “I payed to learn to dance with you, not someone else.”

Overall, we had a great time and even agreed to perhaps learn more. This was a very special time for me,, and I don’t ever want to forget the love and sacrifice Chrissy made to make this night awesome for me.

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I did order us some VHS tapes on swing dancing to learn in the privacy of our own home at our own pace, but after receiving the tapes somehow they disappeared. I still wonder to this day what really happened to them. I do recall finding the second tape somewhere unusual, but the first tape never resurfaced.

In our kitchen today, you will see a sign that Chrissy picked up. It says “In this kitchen we dance,” and since that time we do. I believe we have more spontaneous dance parties in the kitchen now that we have grandbabies and daughters-in-love.

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We dance unashamedly as David did before the Lord. We dance in celebration of the blessings the Lord has given us.

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Hunter Traditions

The scene is set at the turn of the 20th century, in Russia. Tevye, a Jewish father is trying to hold on to what he had been taught his entire life and has been part of the faith and belief system that has been handed down to him from generations who came before him. He finds himself having his beloved beliefs and traditions being challenged. The musical’s opening number rings in my head, “Tradition! Tradition!” Fiddler on the Roof is one of my favorite shows ever.

The word tradition rings louder no other time of the year than during the Christmas season. I know in our family, Christmas drips with tradition. You need to be careful, because if you do something more than 2 years in a row, it’s highly probable that it will stick forever. Then if you forget or try to skip it one year, you will be met with overwhelming opposition proclaiming, “We have to do that… it’s a family tradition!”

The Hunter holiday season starts with Thanksgiving and ends sometime in January, when the tree is disassembled. So, in reality, it lasts somewhere around 2 months. I thought it would be fun and entertaining to share some of our fun traditions that still carry on, as well as some that have died a hard death, and even one or two that are revived yearly, but should probably stay dead.

One year, Chrissy wanted to take the kids to the Thanksgiving Day Parade in Chicago. You know the one that’s on TV every year. After some diligent research, Chrissy found out that we needed to arrive early and bundle up because most years it’s colder than a brass toilet seat in the Yukon.  You need to be there EARLY to secure a good spot. So, we put a plan together. The first year was fun. The second year, now that was the year that was more than entertaining and after that, it was decided that it would probably be in the best interest of the Hunter family not to go again. The issue is that this is one of those traditions that keeps trying to come back.

So, you may be wondering why we needed put this to rest? Well… it has to do with Chrissy getting into an argument with one of Chicago’s finest policemen. Long story short is that we were told to move from our “spot,” the one we had been at for over an hour with all the kids. It was a great place to see the entire parade, but we were told to move back. So, we did, only to have other people move in and sit right where we had been, blocking the kids’ vision. This did not go down well with the Hunter momma. So, she got the attention of the officer and asked why these people were allowed to stay where we were not? The cop was pretty irritated and said, Ma’am,  you need to relax and enjoy the parade from where you are sitting. Totally not cool. Well, the momma bear was getting ready to roar about the injustice that her family was dealt. I could see the tension rising, and so I had to step in and calm her down. We ended up moving to a better location, nowhere near as good as the original, but we still had fun and everyone could see the parade. We all agreed on the train ride home, that if I hadn’t stepped in, we would have been watching the parade from the police station waiting room.

Another tradition we have is writing on a special table cloth what we are thankful for. This one was a keeper, but has since been put on hold until we find a new tablecloth. We started a new one a few years ago, but we had a few guests who didn’t understand our special tradition and well, sharpies are permanent. Though it was nothing horrible, our guests’ inscriptions weren’t supportive of our values and the Hunter Code, so we retired that tablecloth. The problem is that we can’t find a tablecloth big enough to fit the table I built for 13 people.

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One last simple, and from what I hear popular tradition, is a thanksgiving puzzle that everyone works on throughout the day while visiting and enjoying each other. We choose a new puzzle every year. Some years the puzzle will last until Christmas, then other years it only lasts the day.

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Thanksgiving also starts the Christmas movies too. Our list has the traditional stop motion tv specials like Rudolph and Frosty. We also have a few others that we love , like, the Polar Express, Arthur’s Christmas, The Santa Clause Movies, Christmas Vacation, and The Grinch.  Our favorite traditional movies are White Christmas, Christmas Story, and Braveheart. Yes, Braveheart. Being of a Scottish heritage, we start the New Year off with this one, I honestly think this got on our list because it was the only movie on tv one New Year’s Day, and it was being played over and over again. So the next year, someone remembered that we had watched Braveheart, and decided it was a “new” tradition for us.

A few of our other traditions are cutting down a fresh tree as a family, and decorating it as a family too. Even our married kids come home to help decorate the tree. This can be tricky with everyone’s schedule, but it’s a tradition, so we make it happen. This is also the start of a huge rivalry in the clan. The issue is who puts the angel on the top of the tree. When the kids were little, I would lift them up, and they would place the angel on the top of the tree. The problem arose one year when we forgot who put the angel on the previous year. Everyone started arguing over whose turn it was. So now, Chrissy and I have to take pictures of who does the tree topper for evidence the next year when everyone starts arguing about whose turn it is. We were doing oldest to youngest, but that got messed up somewhere along the line. Even now, as adults, the kids bicker back and forth about who will get to put the angel on the tree until we go look at the old pictures.

One way we get everyone together during the Christmas season is the reading of the family Advent book. This is a sacred book that can only be opened and read and looked at during the Advent season. Now that the kids are older, instead of reading from the book every night, we just get together each Sunday evening leading up to Christmas. We have dinner and read the Advent book.  December 26th, the book is tied shut with a gold ribbon until the next year’s Advent. The book is unique in many ways, but the biggest thing is that each page has a different door on it and each door opens to reveal a part of the birth of Jesus Christ. The author and illustrator are a husband and wife, and the book truly is amazingly beautiful.

This is another thing where the kids still try to outwit each other because they all want to be the one who opens the Christmas Day door. They count who will read which door and as we each take a turn reading the doors; they try to get themselves in the order they think will increase their chances to open the Christmas door, the last door of the book. Now that we have added to the clan with daughters and grands, it’s even more fun to watch as they try to get to be the one to open the last door.

On Christmas Day, before any gifts are unwrapped or anything else, we take a little time to read the Advent Book all the way through, and I read Luke’s take on the birth of Christ from the Bible. Then we take time to pray. Then, and only then, can we start to open the gifts. We have been asked how we do gifts. With a family our size, gifts can be an expensive challenge. So, Chrissy and I came up with giving 3 smaller gifts, 1 large gift, and a stocking to each one. We decided on 4 gifts because of the 3 gifts brought by the Three Wise Men and given to Mary and Joseph in honor of the Christ child. The one larger gift is to remind us of the great gift of grace God gave us through His Son. The stockings are full of a variety of small gifts, just like the variety of gifts the Holy Spirit brings us when we accept Jesus as our Savior.

Another tradition that we think is fun is our Christmas Eve dinner tradition. I’m not sure when this started; I believe it was when we moved from Pennsylvania to go to school for ministry. With our families being so far away, we started some of these traditions to fill the void we felt and to give us something to look forward to. Holidays are hard when separated from extended family. For this tradition in particular, it came from one of the traditional movies we watch, “The Christmas Story.” It’s from the part after the family has their turkey stolen by the neighbor’s hounds. They end up in the only restaurant open on Christmas,  a Chinese restaurant. So, each Christmas Eve, after Christmas Eve services at church, we eat dinner at a Chinese restaurant. We have had so much fun with this tradition. Over the years, we have enjoyed being able to invite others along with us to take part in this fun tradition. We have shared in some great conversations and in building some amazing relationships. I believe the most we have had was around 26 people at one time taking part in this tradition.

After we are done with our Chinese feast, we head back to our home for the reading of the Advent book, as well as another fun tradition that the kids came up with. As they got older they wanted to buy each other gifts, but we really didn’t have the money to let each of them shop for each other, so they came up with what they call Secret Santa. We draw names on Thanksgiving Day, and on Christmas Eve, we give our gifts to whose names we drew. The kids would use money they earned, as well as Chrissy and I helping a little, so they could get their special gift.

These are just a few of our favorite traditions we have that are close to our family’s hearts and help make us who we are. Each year, Chrissy and I think through what we do and decide which traditions we will make more of a priority. We also try to see if there are any new things we want to add to the list.

This year we added two fun games to the list that seemed to go well and were fun. But we will have to wait and see if they will stand the test of time in the Hunter clan.

I would love to hear some of the fun traditions that your families have; we may want to borrow them!

 

 

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Trains, Flames, and Automobiles

 

The other day Chrissy and I wanted to grab something to eat. We had heard that a new restaurant was opening that was owned by the same person who owned another restaurant that had closed a while back, that we absolutely loved.  The place that closed had great food at a reasonable price. We loved the atmosphere there, as well as the décor. Sometimes there are just those places that immediately whisk you back in time to earlier years when life seemed a little easier. These places flood you with good memories. That is a big reason I liked this place… it had a cozy home feel to it. The place settings were mismatched, but really nice. It was like someone went to your grandparent’s house and bought a few of their place settings, then went to someone else’s grandparents, and did the same thing over and over until they had a huge collection of place settings.

 

The other cool thing was the mismatched cloth napkins at each place setting. Never the same, but always nice and clean. There’s just something about having a cloth napkin at meal time that makes things feel special.

The biggest thing that we loved was the floor. The floor was covered with old vintage magazine pages sealed with a clear coat protectant. It was the coolest thing. It may have been a bit feminine, but I was good with it, because to drew my mind back to my grandmother’s house. Living so far from family, it was a nice place to have a cup of coffee and a homemade sweet treat like my mom would make from one of my grandmother’s recipes. It was quiet most times, so I could think and plan things that I needed to. It was always a great meeting place too, especially for a date with my sweetheart.

So, when this placed closed, it was very sad. It left a big hole for a while in my repertoire of hangout places and in our small community.

When I heard that this new place was opening in the next town over, I was super excited! I had no idea what to expect, but I knew that the food would be great. Recently, we were able to go for a late breakfast.

When we entered the place, which we had been in before when it was another coffee shop, we both were pleasantly surprised.

The old establishment that occupied this building before was nice, but seemed a little dark. It was okay, but definitely not my favorite.

Now seeing what the new owners did, it was great! It took a few months for them to open, but I had heard it was partly because of redoing the floors. It was clean and friendly from the time we entered to the time we checked out.

We were welcomed by amazing magazine-page floors with a food theme, which then transitioned the dining area into railway magazine pages.

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Now, if I’m going to be honest I didn’t notice that they were railway magazines at first. What I did notice was a picture on the wall that was familiar to me. When Chrissy and I went on our first cruise, as a last-minute excursion, we chose to go on an amazing train ride known as the White Passage.

Side Note: This was when I got to see an American Black Bear and her cub in the wild. The Chinese man that spotted her, now that was a hoot for sure! He was pointing and yelling in English with the Chinese accent, “Beer! Beer over dare!” If we were on a boat, we would have tipped over with the sudden shift of weight. He was so very excited.

The Picture in this little restaurant reminded me of the Yukon Railway…the train company that carried us through the passage. After a little digging, I found it was not the same one as in the picture. Great Northern Railway and Yukon had similar logos.

But, as I looked around it all came together– the name of the new establishment “The Coffee Depot,” the train and railway décor, not to mention that the little gem is situated next to busy train tracks, where almost every hour you hear the horn of a locomotive and feel the rumble as it passes through Syracuse.

Looking around the dining area made think of my parents at Christmas time. Chrissy and I got to talking about how every year my dad set up a train track in our house. Some years it was huge, and other years it was small. Ever since I can remember, my parents had a platform set up.

Dad’s little “helper” (Butch 1970)

My dad has a love for model trains. And every year, it would take him weeks before Christmas to plan and set up this display.

This was always a big deal, and no matter what, this display had to be done before Christmas.

My parents would decorate the display with a little town that they had created and the focus was the train station in the town.

My dad would construct the base and get the ground laid, some years it was green like grass, while other years it was snow. He would carefully pour this tiny black gravel for roads, and put miniature lights up from underneath the wood to light the shoebox building that my parents had made with great detail. Dad had some scale structures called Plasticville, but they were very expensive, so they only had a few of those to start.  They even had street lights that lit up the roads at night.

Then they would build a paper mache mountain, with a wax waterfall that had variant blue colors of water running down to a pond. The mountain also had a tunnel that the train could pass through.

One year, my parents wanted to get trailing pine and green moss for the platform, so we went for a hike up the mountain we lived on. We found some, brought it back and constructed a green mountain with live moss.

Side Note: It was never a good day if the train jumped the track in the tunnel. Most times this was due to unsupervised little hands as the conductor.

The Lionel train was my dad’s baby. He always took special care of the old engine and caboose. Every year, we would make a trip to one of the most fascinating stores… English’s Train Shoppe. This place had every train you could think of on display.There were so many that they even had them hanging from the ceiling. The best part was that they always had most of them running. I absolutely loved the trip to this place. This is where my dad would get supplies and have the engine serviced. This was also the place where we would get the corrugated red brick paper that would run around the sides of the platform to hide all the wires underneath the town.

He would finish the display off with little people figures and matchbox cars. The cars were special because this was something we both were enthusiastic about. He had ones from when he was a boy, then he would add new ones that were mine.

The older I got the more I enjoyed the platform and looked forward to helping with it. The older I got, the ornerier I got too. One year I un-repentantly started a tradition. I created an incident with some of the matchbox cars.

Side Note: We always had matchbox cars, never hot wheels. It was like a rival team or something I really don’t know why, but dad only liked the matchbox cars. I remember him saying “I don’t want any of that Hot Wheels Sh*t on my platform!” We really didn’t do sports, so I guess we did miniature car companies?

So, this one year, I took some of the cars and created a fender bender scene. I had two cars crashed, and a gas tanker truck flipped on its side. I pulled out the fire trucks from the fire station and the ambulance too, and I placed them at the scene of the accident. I did think about setting the truck on fire but luckily I realized that could be a very bad thing. Besides, I wanted to see how long it would take my dad to notice this little eye sore in his pleasant, peaceful town.

One thing, I haven’t mentioned was that the platform was sacred. No one could touch it after it was finished– it was a piece of fine art. So, when he finally noticed the destruction I created, he became almost unglued! It was so funny that I had to repeat it again and again over the years. Now it’s one of those things that my dad puts on there himself. Perhaps, it’s just a reminder to him of the fun, silly things I did while growing up.

A few years back, I received a very special gift that I treasure. My dad got me a Lionel train set, so I could continue the train tradition in our family. I don’t know that I have done the best job of doing that as a dad, but I want to see if I can do better as a Popz for my grands.

I love thinking about these special moments, they remind me of the love we shared as a family growing up. The platform was a yearly connecting point for the family, but seemed to be even more special to dad and me. I hope to have that same connection with things with my kids and the grands too!

Lastly, The Coffee Depot’s food was great, as well as the trip down memory lane!

Coffee Depot Facebook Page

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The Christmas Code

I sat there, half asleep on the couch, as the kids excitedly prepared for the day’s festivities. I found myself, coffee mug in hand, staring at a pile of Christmas gifts, thinking, “What did I do to get us in this situation?” Yes, it was Christmas morning. The tree was decorated, as well as the house. This year, Chrissy had the foresight to wrap almost all the presents in advance, which made things easier, but definitely not great. You see, Chrissy was 30 minutes away, laying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life.

Here I was at home, with our kids and Chrissy’s parents, who had arrived in their big RV the night before. Just thinking how is it that I’m in a place where I may lose my wife, best friend, lover once more?

Let me back up and start from the beginning.

It was in the beginning of December 2004 when it all started. Recently, we had received dental benefits with my compensation package at church, so we were on a dentistry kick. Getting everyone’s teeth looked at and fixed, cleaned, you know the drill. Chrissy was in for a simple cleaning, being new to all this dentistry stuff, we really had no clue of things you should be careful of. One such thing is that if you have a heart murmur, you should be medicated prior to dental work. Most dentists will ask you this, and then make sure you have what you need prior to the dental work. Chrissy has a heart murmur, and well, she should have had an antibiotic before her teeth were cleaned. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Chrissy had her teeth cleaned, and everything seemed to be fine, for several days afterwards. That was until she started running a fever; we thought she had gotten the flu. She got sick and then she would seem to gain her strength, only to relapse. Finally, it got worse. Chrissy had a fever and started getting a rash. So, we went to the local convenient care because we had not yet established a family doctor. We had just moved to Chicagoland the year before.

We went to the immediate care, and the doctor who saw her said it was just the flu, not to worry, and get some rest. So, we went back home. A  few days passed, and she still had not fully recovered. Then she started to complain of a crushing pain in her chest. This really scared me. She also started to break out in hives.

We thought this must be an allergic reaction to something. We went back through everything she ate, and if we changed anything like soap or detergents, anything we could think of and the answer was no, so we headed out to the convenient care again.

This time, different doctor. Chrissy was short of breath and on the verge of a panic attack because of not knowing what was going on. She still had a fever and when they went to take x-rays of her chest, she passed out for a few seconds. After all that she tried to explain everything that she was feeling, but the doctor concluded that it had to be a allergy to something.

Side Note: I was not able to go back with her because I was on kid duty in the waiting room.

The doctor prescribed some meds and sent us on our way. Chrissy felt like they thought she was crazy. We got her on the meds and saw some improvement.

Somehow, we managed to Christmas shop, attend work parties, and go to church. Chrissy and I also decided while wrapping presents that it would be a smashing idea if we used a secret code system on the Christmas tags instead of names.

This year, we had not only gotten better insurance, I had also received a nice pay raise, and we were so excited that we could buy some nice presents that the kids really wanted. This was going to be a very special year.

We did have one huge dilemma; we had a peeker in our family. You know the kid who likes to look at their gifts before Christmas and guess what they were. Oh, Ben is a peeker, and a good one at that. He would shake and squeeze things. He had even been known to unwrap things and rewrap them.  If we would hide the presents, he would find them. He could never keep it a secret either, he had to let his sister and brothers know what he did. He was so proud of himself.

So, this year we came up with a diabolical plan. Looking back, I think Chrissy was having some sort of delusion from the fever or side effect to the medications she was taking because this was just a crazy plan. Actually, it was a genius plan.

We thought we’ll code the presents and hide them in the garage. That is exactly what we did. We would wrap the presents. Chrissy would get out the highly secret code key and label the presents, and I would take them to the hiding place in the locked garage.

This code thing really was genius! Somehow each code was different so there was no telling which present would go to who without Chrissy and the key. This was a brilliant plan for sure! We would have our sneaking peeker foiled this year!

Then Christmas week was here, and Chrissy still had not gotten fully better. I was in charge of all the kid’s ministry Christmas services, all 6 of them. We had 2 on what we call Christmas Eve-Eve, and then 4 on the actual Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Eve morning, we got up, and Chrissy’s body was absolutely covered with hives. She had a high temperature, the shortness of breath and the crushing chest pain. So, I decided to call a doctor I had recently seen and luckily was able to make an appointment for her that day. We arrive at the doctor’s office, and they got us in quickly. The doctor looked at her and told us that she needed to be admitted to the hospital, and that this was very serious. He gave us orders for blood work and told us to go now and they would be calling the hospital to let them know we were coming.

We got to the hospital and they admitted her and had the blood work done and started her on a course of penicillin. Her fever had spiked to 104. My love was white as fresh fallen snow. They hooked her up to all kinds of monitors. They said that they were doing all they could to make her comfortable. When the Doctor finally came in he told us that she had sepsis of the blood and that the next 24 hours would be the most critical. Not the words you wanted to hear. I remember praying as hard as I could.

I called to let my boss know that I would need to call off. I was then told that no one could fill for me, so I needed to be there. On top of that, Chrissy’s parents were on their way in, and I needed to take care of my four children. This was turning out to be the Christmas celebration from you know where.

I left Chrissy, got our kids around for Church, and headed off to work with them. After the last service, we rushed to the hospital to see Chrissy one last time for the night. She seemed to be doing better, but that was just my opinion– the Doctor had an opposing one. He said she seemed to be reacting well to the meds, but needed rest.

I remember Chrissy pulling me in close and whispering that she loved me and not to forget to get the train table put together for Silas and have the clown bike put together for Jonah. I said I would, and I told her not to worry.

At this time, I had not given any thought to the codes we put on all the presents. I was just trying to figure out how I could get the kids to wait for mommy to come home and see them unwrap the cool presents that we had picked out for them.

Presents are a big deal in our family, and there is a lot that goes into choosing the right gift for that receiver. This goes all the way down to how it’s wrapped and even sometimes how it is presented to the receiver.

Side Note: For some presents that are given to special people it takes months of preparation and orchestration, especially if it’s Chrissy giving the gift. She puts her whole heart into making it a positive memorable experience. I absolutely love this about her.

I got the kids home, did all our Christmas eve traditions, and put the kids to bed, As soon as I started to work in the garage on the last presents, in rolled the big RV with the in-laws. I tried to get them welcomed and settled, so I could finish up my projects. I do remember it being around 2 am when I finally crawled into bed and prayed one last payer for my love.

The next thing I knew was that I had four very excited kids bouncing on my bed wanting me to get up. I thought I could buy some time with having the kids go see Grammy and Pop in the RV. That didn’t take long. I was able to get a cup of coffee and get myself dressed.

Now this is where I started this post. With me sitting on the couch. My mind was overwhelmed with thoughts on what to do. I wanted Chrissy to be here to watch the kids open the gifts, but who knew when she would be home, it could be days or maybe even weeks.

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I told the kids to go ahead and open their stockings. This would give me time to seek wisdom from the in-laws. I then remembered the codes. Oh no, those terrific, horrible codes! I thought I got it! The Grandparents always bring tons of presents… I’ll just have the kids open the presents from them now, and then when Chrissy gets home,they can open ours. Brilliant!

So, I thought. But I was shot down by my mother-in-law, and told the kids needed to open our presents. I tried to convince them otherwise even reasoning that I would make the kids wait until I knew when Chrissy would be coming home. That was when the guilt trip started, and I totally lost all strength to fight.

I set up the video camera, and away we went. It was a disaster.  The biggest mistake I can remember is that everyone was opening each other’s gifts, and Ben opened up Tori’s American Girl Doll. Which seemed so funny to everyone, but me and I’m sure to my wife later when she found out. I believe the dog’s present was even messed up.

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Afterwards, I was told that when Chrissy got out of the hospital, the kids could open the presents that the grands brought.  I was so frustrated!

I told the kids to get ready; we were going to see mommy. We got to the hospital and they got to see Chrissy. She looked tons better, but still was super weak. The doctor told us that she was lucky to be with us. They also said she needed much rest and care.

We left the hospital and stopped by a Churches Chicken– one of the only places open on Christmas to get a take-home meal which was our Christmas dinner.

Side Note: We never ate Churches Chicken because of a horrible shooting that took place in one of the restaurants, so Chrissy would never ever go there. She refused to.

So, the next day we went back to the hospital and the Doctor said Chrissy should be in there a few more days. Chrissy’s mom asked the doctor why, in a challenging way. She argued with him that Chrissy would be much better at home with her family. After much banter, he told Chrissy that she could sign herself out against doctor’s orders and go home if she wanted to.

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Chrissy’s mom convinced her that would be the best thing to do.

So, she signed herself out and we took her home.

By now the news that the kids had opened everything we had gotten them sunk in. This was a hard thing for us both as we watch the kids tear into the presents that were brought from Pennsylvania. We tried to make the best of it, joking about the clothes that were always too small for me or the strange presents that one of the kid would get that only someone who didn’t really know our kids would get them.

The next day the RV pulled out of the drive, and was off to Pennsylvania again. Leaving our family to care for each other and hopefully give Chrissy the rest she needed.

Unknown to us, but this was the start of a new battle for Chrissy. This sickness did much damage that in the years to come, we would slowly uncover really how bad it was. This was the start of anxiety and depression, as well as a few other issues that still to this day are challenges for my wife.

We now look back and cherish this year and will never forget how blessed we are to have Chrissy with us to celebrate yet another Christmas.

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The #1 Requested Campfire Story

This past week was one of my most favorite parts of what I get to do as a Pastor; I was at camp! Camp is the one week a year I get to build deep relationships with the kids that I minister to throughout the year. It usually takes a year or more for me to plan a great week of camp. Each day is jam-packed with worship, lessons, and the crazy games that you would anticipate at camp. I have tried hard over the last 20 years to keep the theme and everything else. down to the games we play, fresh and original. I have tried not to reuse or recycle these activities. One thing I do find myself recycling every so many years is our campfire stories. Some of what I have written and will be writing on my blog originated as campfire stories.

When I have repeat campers, I don’t get away with not telling one particular story. This story is usually requested by the repeat kids who have signed up months in advance. It is one of my favorite stories to tell, so most times I tell the kids that I will try to work the story in. This year was no different, so at campfire, I told this story.

Years ago, we lived in Maryland. We were attending Bible college, so we lived on campus in the married student housing. We lived in the bottom apartment of the unit. We had come to find out that at one time this building had been a large chicken coop. That was comforting to know that someone was very creative with their student housing.

When we arrived on campus, we moved our 3 children and all our stuff into the apartment. Over the the years, with 3 kids, we had somehow accumulated a lot of stuff. One benefit that we had was that we were able to store stuff in an outside shed behind the apartments. The shed sat about 50 feet out at the back edge of the yard. Behind the shed, there was a field overgrown with grass and weeds.

So, as we found out the hard way, the shed was not critter proof. Whatever we kept in there had to be able to which stand whatever would come in from the yard or field around the shed.

Every once in while, we would need something from the shed. So, when we did, I would go out and and try to find whatever it was. It really was not a big shed. It may have been about 6 foot wide by 8 foot deep. That did not stop us from filling it from back to front.

One day in the middle of July, Chrissy told me that she needed something from the shed. I remember this day very well. It was a Wednesday around 10am. I was doing something outside in the back yard, the kids were playing inside the house because it was already hot outside. So, Chrissy came out the back door and asked me to get something from a filing cabinet that we had in the shed. I moaned and threw an adult fit about getting it, but eventually I agreed to do it.

I walked over to the shed, grumbling the entire time and opened the door to the jam-packed shed. As I stared at the mountain of junk we had, I then realized that the cabinet was all the way at the back of the shed. I really didn’t want to clean this monster out on this sweltering day let alone any other day. So, I decided to do this the lazy way.

I moved a few things out into the yard, then I started to play Tetris with the boxes and toys. I piled some things up higher, and then I would carefully stand in the small area I just cleared. I did this over and over again, zigzagging my way though the shed.

I really didn’t realize that I was blocking myself into the shed the deeper I moved in. The sweat started running down my face as I finally reached the back of the shed. I dug out a small space to open the cabinet and retrieve what I was asked to get. Closing the cabinet, I started to unpile the stuff, carefully putting everything back right where I had removed it from, and if I could get the stacks tighter or straighter I did it. I had everything that was at the back all neatly back in place with room to spare. Honestly, I was feeling pretty accomplished at this moment.

This is when I felt like I was being watched from behind. I slowly turned and looking out the doors I could see that no one was in the yard. Then I focused closer to me and saw it. It was about 30 inches from me looking right at me, with its little beady eyes. Right at the same level of my face, it laid there watching me.

Side note: Most people who know me know that I have a healthy fear of snakes. I have worked courageously to overcome my fear for years now. So much that one year for our anniversary, Chrissy and I took the kids to a small circus and afterwards had our picture taken with an albino python that was about 20 foot long. Chrissy said we had to do something amazing for our special day. So, I obliged her and sucked up my fear and held a part of the snake for a picture. I have one word for it, yuck!

Yes, it was a snake in the shed with me! It was humongous! It was about 12 feet long and as thick as a fire hose– the big kind! It opened its mouth, revealing short pointy fangs dripping with venom. Right then I knew it was facing an Anaconda! I was so in trouble! I immediately evaluated my situation. I had blocked any possible escape route. So I could either become the Incredible Hulk and bust out the back of the shed or just turn green and grab the thing by the head and rip it to shreds. Seeing that I was not David Banner, that option was out. Then I quickly thought if I could create a diversion, I just may make it past it with out it noticing. Then I came to my senses and resolved that this could be the day that I meet Jesus. Now mind you that this all happened within a few moments of the beast arriving.

So, I did what every other grown man would do that had a huge fear of snakes I screamed like a little girl! I screamed out help! Help me, please! It was all for not! No one was out there to come to my rescue. I kept hoping one of my kids would wander outside to see what amazing things dad was up to, like they usually did, but not on this day. I stood there looking at the monster flicking its red tongue out at me then up and down. It was like a little hand waving at me trying to have me come closer, so it could get a taste of me. But I was not moving. I was scared stiff.

What seemed like hours past… I kept yelling, “Help!” It was just too hot on this day for any good Samaritans to pass by and help me with my plight. It was even too hot for a snake to be out in the sun. Instead, he would rather look for some human to torture with his presence in a shed. He was relentless. The more I yelled, the more he flicked his tongue.

I was dripping with sweat from being in the shed, and I’m sure from fear, as well. I looked around me for something I could grab to whack him with, but then I imagined myself knocking it to the floor and as I passed it latching on to my ankle. Now, it’s one thing to have Kankles, and it’s a totally different thing to have to go through life with snankles. I could see myself at a social get together and people staring at my feet as I drag along this thing stuck to my ankle. “Snankles are a serious issue people!” I would say, “Don’t judge me.” Yeah, whacking the snake, not a good Idea.

Finally, just when I was to give in to the mesmerizing tongue flicking and spinning hypnotic eyes of Kaa, I heard the back door of the house open. At that moment, I had a surge of adrenaline. I hear Chrissy yell from the porch, “Butch? Where are you? I could see her looking in my direction. That is when it happened– I opened my mouth to yell help, and nothing came out. The only sound I made was a weird breathy noise. No words at all. I tried again, and now it was like the snake was a bit bored with me. So, he had to do some thing to get my voice back.. it was more entertaining to have me yelling. So, he slithered back a bit all the while not losing eye contact with me. I freaked! Out came a noise that to this day is still indescribable. Chrissy heard it, and that was all that mattered. I think it made the snake happy too because he slid back into the position he was in before. I was like he was saying, “There ya go, you found your voice. Now dance and sing monkey!”

Chrissy slowly came off the porch, looking around like she was straining to see something in the dark. All the while asking where I was, and what was taking me so long, and if I had found whatever it was she needed, and would it be taking me much longer? When she finally made it to the opening of the shed, she peered in at me hands on her hips with a look of disgust on her face that I had kept her waiting. I looked at her with my eyes and looked down at the beast then again at her. Trying to communicate through eye movement.

Side Note: As parents, you become really good at making looks at each other that communicate things you need to say without using sounds at all. You know what I mean. It’s like the look everyone’s parents give them when they are in trouble. “The Look”

Well, that was not working because she was obviously blinded by the sun and could not see that if she made the slightest movement, she too would be in imminent danger of losing her life along with me. So I stuttered out the word sssnnaakke! She put her hand up to her forehead to see better, and that was when I screamed SNAKE!

Her face dropped like she had just been told there was a fire or something. Her eyes got huge and her mouth gapped open, before I could say anything else she was on the porch. Yelling out to me. What do you want me to do?

I’m sure this was exactly what the snake wanted. It lay there saying, “Oh, this is way better than I imagined– I have two humans going now! This is just way better than I ever expected! Woohoo!”

I yelled back to her I need you to clear a path for me! I’m trapped! She shook her head and said no way! I said you have to help me or I’m going to die! They you will be stuck raising all our kids by yourself. After taking a moment to consider that she said what do I need to do? I knew that would get her.

I told her to come over and slowly and carefully take things out of the shed to clear a path for me. Okay she said. She tiptoed over to the shed, reached into the shed, and pulled something out. She immediately squealed and tossed the item in the air and ran back to the porch and asked, “ Is it gone?” I said “Nope, still here. Come get something else!” She repeated the same action, as well as the question running to the porch each time she grabbed something. Piece by piece she moved things out, each time getting a bit closer to me. Still, the snake didn’t move. Finally she grabbed something, and it must have surprised the beast, or it finally really was bored of the game, because it turned around and slid down towards the floor. I immediately jumped up, grabbing the rafters of the shed, I brought my knees to my chest and swung myself back then forward, extending my legs like I was a karate fighter drop kicking someone. I cleared all the stuff. Gravity took me, but I’m not sure I ever placed foot on solid ground until I beat Chrissy to the porch.

She asked me a bunch of questions about the snake… what was it’s favorite foods, colors, when was it’s birthday etc. She said I was in there long enough that I should have known all that. I told her it was a snake, and I didn’t want to be friends! Then she had the gall to ask if I got what she needed, and I looked at her and said, “No, I’m sorry. I just was almost killed trying to get it.”

Later that day, after I recovered from my traumatic hostage situation, and when it wasn’t as hot, I cleaned out the shed and retrieved whatever it was Chrissy needed. My real motive was to see if I could find the snake and dispatch it. It would have made me feel better. I never did find it. I did learn about lots of things that day. Like fear, and that God is with you even when you don’t think He is. Over the years, I have been able to apply this to many things to describe the character of God and highlight His promises to us, and encourage many campers by doing so. Especially homesick campers.

I don’t know if Steve Erwin would have been proud or disappointed in me, but I tried my best to make the best out of a scary situation. Now, I just give God the glory for that little snake that has helped lots of kids overcome fear and have courage to trust that God loves you more than anyone, and that He wants the best for you.

Me overcoming my fears!Enlight9

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Chicken Flung

Summer is quickly approaching, and with summer comes all the fun activities, trips, and time spent making fun memories with family and friends. As I am sitting here, thinking about all the memories of what our family has done over the years, I can’t help thinking about one of the kids’ highlights of the summer. The week of summer camp! For pretty much the last 20 years, I have directed and planned a week of summer camp each year.

Then my mind quickly flips to the opposite end of the spectrum. The 4 days of Hades. (That’s what 4-H stands for,you know. Oh, I’m just kidding. Actually, it was more like the two weeks prior to the 4-H Fair. Especially having four kids involved. It really wasn’t that bad, but it was stressful. Being homeschoolers, 4-H was a big part of our yearly schooling. We would have tons of projects… each kid would end up with about 5 projects each year, so times that by 4. That’s 20 projects each year to register at fair!

Each year we would ask the kids, “what do you want to do for 4-H this year?” Some would want to do fine arts, another would do photography. The kids would also always want to do the traditional things you think of when you hear 4-H. You know, like farm animals, small pets, etc.

Side note: Silas always wanted to do goats. He had the idea of getting two kinds of goats. He wanted to get fainting goats and screaming goats. He thought it would be funny to have the screaming goats scream, and then the fainting goats would, well…faint. We never did this though. We should have.

Living in the suburbs of Chicago, our choices were limited as to what animals we could allow them to choose from. So cows, pigs, and even goats were kind of off the list. What we could do was dogs, birds, rabbits, guinea pigs, and with pushing our luck with local ordinances, chickens.

Okay, I have to pause and lay out a warning here. Working with some animals can be challenging, and the unexpected can happen. So with that said, if you have a weak stomach or can’t handle life and death situations, you may want to stop reading, though the story is somewhat humorous.

Okay, so now that we have that out of the way, we can go on. One year, my kids and Chrissy thought it would be amazing to do chickens. They didn’t want to just get chicks, they wanted the entire experience from hatching them to growing the chickens.

I remembered doing this in second grade, and it was pretty cool. So I said, “Sure, lets do it.” We started to study and read all we could to make sure we did this right. We even sought out advice from other fellow 4-H people who had successfully raised chickens. We did our homework and collected all the necessary supplies we needed for our experiment. Chrissy even printed out charts and graphs that the kids would use to track the process of our eggs.

We cleared a place in the laundry room for a table that we could set our supplies on. We borrowed an egg incubator, got our eggs, and we were set to start hatching! So, every day the kids would take turns logging and charting the process of the eggs. As we turned the eggs each day, the excitement was building for our first sign of the hatching to start.

Finally, the day came… we had a crack in one of the eggs, then what seemed like days afterwards, our first chick emerged from it’s shell. The chick was wet, dark in color and well, pretty ugly. After some time it dried and fluffed up and started to chirp all cute-like. Then one after another they started to hatch.

We thought, we got this. But then the part of doing this that no one talks about happed. We had our first deformed chick hatch. I believe one of the kids saw it first. They came and got us saying, “I think something is wrong with a chick!” Sure enough, this little one had not formed correctly. Everything that was to be on the inside was on the outside. The chick didn’t live, but for a few minutes. Then, we a few more of the same horror show. Out of 12 eggs, we had 8 hatch. Out of the 8 that hatched, we had 3 that were deformed. With the remaining 5 chicks, we had two that were just weak and got sick and had to be euthanized. This was not a very fun thing to do or go through. So, we ended up with 3 chicks. Not a total loss.

So around this time there was a movie that came out called Chicken Run. This was a funny movie about a brood of chickens that want to escape their fate. Here is a description from iTunes:

“This exciting and original story about a group of chickens determined to fly the coop–even if they can’t fly! It’s hardly poultry in motion when Rocky (Mel Gibson) attempts to teach Ginger and her feathered friends to fly…but, with teamwork, determination and a little bit o’ cluck, the fearless flock plots one last attempt in a spectacular bid for freedom.”

Our kids loved this movie, especially Jonah and Silas. Looking back, I believe the boys thought that the methods the chickens used in the movie to learn how to fly were factual.

So back to our chicks, the last 3 were growing nicely and doing great. Chrissy and I had openly discussed taking the chicks out of their pen in the laundry room and moving them to the garage, with the occasional run in the back yard. So we decided to move the chicks to the garage where they stayed in a bigger pen. The kids would take turn going out and tending to them each day.

One warm sunny spring day Tori, Jonah, Silas, and our dog Lily were playing outside as they normally did. We had a long wire dog run trolley system for Lily. The wire spanned about 50 feet from one tree to another, with some slack in it from years of use.

Chrissy was in the house cooking, or cleaning, or something. All was well. An abnormally uneventful and pleasant day so far. At least that is what Chrissy thought, until the back door flew open and Tori ran in uncontrollably sobbing. It was that kind of sobbing that can make any beautiful girl a mess.

Chrissy heard the noise and ran to see what all the commotion was about. As she saw Tori in the standing in the kitchen flailing with emotion, she tried to make out what she was saying, “It’s dead! They’re all dead!”

It was really hard to understand what Tori was saying through her blubbering. Chrissy grabbed Tori ‘s head squeezing her chubby little cheeks and said in that loving yet frantic motherly way “ Who’s dead?” This is about the time the boys came flying through the door wailing. “We didn’t mean to!” By this time, Chrissy is freaking out! She looks at the boys and said “ What did you do?!”

Chrissy thought something happened to Lily. She looked down at at Tori with the mom look. You know the one I’m talking about. It’s the look that strikes fear into the hearts of grown men. It’s like moms are equipped with these laser beam eyes that can shoot right out of their eyes and into the depths of your mind.

They scan your deepest, darkest thoughts and memories. Then they look at you like their toying with you, and ask again a question that they already know the answer to. Chrissy spoke slowly and concisely, pronouncing every syllable. She asked “What happened? Still holding Tori’s cheek as moms do when they want an answer. Through the sucking of breath, Tori’s squished little mouth spoke out, “it was the boys!”

Chrissy whipped her head around using that mom super power, scanning their souls. With one fluid motion, she loosened her grip on Tori’s cheeks and stepping towards the boy, she glanced out the kitchen window to see the dog still moving outside. So, she knew nothing had happened to Lily.

She refocused her gaze back on the sobbing boys. Jonah, shaking his head and trembling. He kept muttering “We didn’t know.” Over and over. Chrissy turned her focus to the youngest, Silas. Bending over looking into his face, she said slowly “What happened?’ He looked up at her through his tears and said, “I’m sorry mom, We thought we could teach them to fly.” “Who?” Chrissy said.

Jonah piped up, while sucking back snot, stuttering, “the Ch, the Ch-i-cks.” Chrissy yelled “WHAT? That was our 4-H project! All of you sit down! Now tell me what happened. Jonah spoke, still all sloppy and crying. Without any hesitation he threw his little brother under the bus. “It was Silas’ idea!” he exclaimed pointing at Silas.

When Silas heard that he looked up as his bottom jaw fell open wide and his eyes grew huge. “What?” he said then broke out into tears again. “Calm down.” Chrissy said. Now “What happened?” she asked again. This time Tori spoke up. “The boys “ Now Jonah’s mouth was wide, catching flies in unbelief that he was lumped in with Silas.

She continued “They were playing with the chicks, when one of them said, ‘let’s teach them to fly.’ Then… She started to cry again. “They pulled back Lily’s line, (the dog run line) and put the chicks on it and, and, and….”Silas interrupted, blurting out “We let it go!” he broke out into fresh tears. Now Jonah jumped im. “And now they’re dead!” then he started to bawl.

Chrissy looked at them and told them that what they did was not a good choice and explained that they were not big enough to do something like that. She explained how big of a deal it was to have something like this happen and that these chicks depended on them to be safe. She told all three of them that they would have to have a formal burial for the chicks in the back yard when dad got home.

Then she asked, “Where did you guys ever get the idea that the chicks needed to learn to fly? Let alone using lily’s dog run as a sling shot?”

Silas said “Well, you know that chicken movie we watched?” Chrissy looked at him, all confused. Jonah jumped in, “Yeah the one where the chickens didn’t know how to fly, remember?” Chrissy was still not placing the movie. “Okay so what about the movie?”

Tori said, “ The chickens needed to learn how to fly so they could escape from being killed by the farmer.” “Okay, so what does that have to do with this?” Chrissy asked. Silas said, “We wanted the chicks to learn how to fly, so they could escape if they had too!” Chrissy said, “But why did you sling shot them off the dog line?” Jonah said, “ That was how they did it in the movie!”

Chrissy then started to understand that the last few weeks of hard work, hatching the eggs to raising the chicks for our 4-H project was just lost, all because of a kids’ movie that we watched. I think that’s when Chrissy started to cry.

Side Note: There was still hope– we had one chick left. Unfortunately, it didn’t survive for the fair either.

This is the life of a Hunter. Good, bad or indifferent we look at what happened, and try to learn from whatever it was that happened, and thank God for the lesson. We have a few of these 4-H stories that you will hear soon. I may even tell the heartbreaking story of Tori’s 4-H rabbit, and how we accidentally discovered that a Goo Gone and Shout Stain Remover mixture can be deadly for rabbits locked in a laundry room.

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The Bear In The Little White Trailer

The Bear In The Little White Trailer
Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my! Well, not so much the lions and tigers, but definitely bears. Bears are this week’s blog topic.
As I have mentioned in previous stories, I’m from PA. That stands for Pennsylvania, for all those who are not from the Keystone State. Nobody calls it Pennsylvania; it’s always  “P. A.” I grew up just within the city limits of Williamsport.
Side Note: When we moved in to this house when I was a kid, we had no running water or plumbing. In fact, we had the last standing outhouse within the city limits. The local newspaper the Sun Gazette did a feature story on it before it was taken down. Of course, we had indoor plumbing by then.
Our house was built by my Grandpap Hunter. It sat half-way up a mountainside. Directly behind our house, was an overgrown vineyard that had long since been cared for. It had been overtaken with thick brush and trees, just as the mountain started to incline. We has gorgeous evergreen pine trees that ran all the way up to the top of the mountain.
Side note: I’m saying that we lived on a mountain, which to anyone actually from PA would say “Aw, that’s just a big hill. The mountains are on the south side of the Valley.” And that would be true. But those who live in the Midwest, where I now reside… they would say we did live on a small mountain.  
I had the run of all the area growing up. It was great. I spent summer days exploring and playing, just my dog and me. We encountered many things throughout the years, and I heard a ton of stories about what lived in those woods. Some scary things, and some were just ridiculous.
One such story was about the night my mom was walked home by what she claims to have been a bear. She worked 2nd shift, and got a ride home late one night. The driver dropped her off at the bottom of our long driveway. Halfway up our drive, she was greeted by something big and furry. She thought it was our pet St. Bernard, Brandy.
All the way home she talked and walked with it, giving it encouraging pats on the head as they walked. When she reached our house, whatever it was ran off. She went in the house only to find Brandy asleep on the floor. She swears it was a bear. I don’t know.
That was not the only encounter we had with bears. My mother-in-law hit one with her car once. The car was totaled. She was ok, but the bear didn’t survive.
Another time, which I think is the best story, is when Chrissy and I were living in the real mountains. Our small mobile home sat at the bottom of a mountain close to her grandparent’s home. A small brook ran right behind the property.  In this little community called Proctor, there may have been a population of 150, perhaps a bit more. Our little neighborhood had 4 houses within a stone’s throwing distance from ours. We had two of our kids then, Ben and Tori, and stupid dog named Pepper.
Where we lived, trash pick-up only happened every 2 weeks, perhaps 4, depending on the time of year. So, we had 3 cans sitting out by where we parked our cars. We had been told that sometimes bears would wonder down the mountain and get into things. We had never seen this happen since we had lived in the trailer. The only things we had seen were the occasional deer, rabbits, raccoons, opossums, and a flock of turkeys.
One summer night, Chrissy woke me from a dead sleep. This was normal.
She said, “Did you hear that?”
I said, “No, don’t worry, it’s probably a raccoon getting into the garbage.”
She said, “No, it’s not, listen! It’s grunting and snorting whatever it is!
We lay very still in our bed, and I listened. All I could hear was my heart beating and my breathing.
I said, “Nope, nothing.”
Then she said, “There!” as she sat up in bed.
I said,  “Okay, I’ll get up and see.”
So, I got up and got the spotlight. Everyone who lives in PA has a spotlight.
Side note: Spotlighting. It’s a verb. That’s what you did for fun on a warm Saturday night. You drive around shining this huge 100,000,000 candlelight powered spotlight out your car window to see how many deer or other species of wildlife you could see. That, my friends, was a wild night!
I grabbed my spotlight, and I opened the drapes to look out the window. I could see nothing. I shined my light out the window, but all I could see was our cars.  I moved back through the trailer to our bedroom windows. I pulled back the curtains to shine the light out. And there it was as plain as day. The biggest, hairiest, monster I had ever seen with it’s teeth bared looking right back at me through my window. It was a Sasquatch!
No, I’m just kidding. All I could see was the hoods of our cars. Of course, by this time Chrissy is pushing me over grabbing for the light, so naturally I wouldn’t see any thing. Then, all of a sudden, I thought I saw something moving on the far side of the car by our garbage. Then it moved out in to plain sight. It was a big black bear! He was enjoying himself some dinner on us.
I think this is when Chrissy looked at me and said in Scooby Doo fashion “It’s a bear!” I think she may have peed a little too! She jumped from the bed, ran into the kids’ room, and scooped them up. The next thing I knew everyone was in our bed. Chrissy had the covers pulled over her head, asking is it still there?
I said, “Yep, it’s still there.”
This bear was not little– he had to have gone a few hundred pounds. I thought it would be cool if he stood up, but he didn’t. He just kind of meandered around by the garbage cans.
I finally coaxed Chrissy out from under her bear proof covers to watch the bear with me.  We watched him for what seemed like hours, but I’m sure it was nowhere close to that. Then Chrissy said to me, “What if he tries to get in the house?”
Now that thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but she said, “Won’t he smell the food in our house?”
 That’s when I started to be a little concerned, but being the brave man of our small family, I said, “Aw, don’t worry he can’t get in, and besides I have the 12-gauge.
She said, “You should get it.”
So, I grabbed the gun and carefully laid it on the bed.
Side Note: Now, at this time in my life I had only shot this gun maybe once or twice when I went turkey hunting as a teen. Boy, is that a story, but for another time. Honestly, the thing I remembered the most about that gun was that it kicked like a mule. I probably could have better defended our family by beating the bear with the gun.
Then Chrissy said, “You know the front door doesn’t latch very well.”
I knew that front door needed fixed, but I hadn’t had the money or the time to fix it. The more I thought about it, I started to worry. All you really needed to do was push hard on the door, and it would fly open.
As any brave husband would do, I thought fast and said, “We should move all the furniture in front of the door to barricade it. He’s not going to come over here, but, you know, just in case. So we frantically pushed our couch and chair over in front of the door, as well as anything else heavy we could get in front of the door.
When we were done, we scampered back to the bed to see where our furry friend was, and what he was up to.  I shined the spotlight over by the car and nothing. I stared to look around, where did he go? That’s when I heard a snort right in front of the window we were looking out. I quickly pointed the light down to where I heard the snort, and sure enough there he was. He was making his way over to the trailer. We watched as he waddled past us and then over by our front porch. We tiptoed out to the living room, and peeked out the window just in time to see Mr. Cuddles waddling right up our porch steps. Our porch was more of a stoop. It had three steps and then a 4×4 square deck. Not very big at all.
I ran back to the bedroom and grabbed my gun. With trembling fingers I put a slug in and closed the chamber, I was ready. If that bear welcomed himself into our home it was on. As I stood with my heart racing looking out the window. He came up the steps got on the porch. I though this is it, get ready. Then he just turned around and sat down on our porch like he owned the place. I had Chrissy go back to the bedroom with the kids and cover up with her bear protectant sheets as I stood guard.
Again, I watched for what seemed like an eternity. Then all of a sudden he sniffed the breeze and grunted. He flopped forward and jumped off the porch. He waddled across the yard and out of sight to the neighbor’s house.
I thought, I’m leaving the barricade up, just in case he comes back. I walked back to the bedroom with my gun clenched in my hands and pronounced that the bear has left the premises.

The funniest thing was that the kids slept through the entire ordeal. That night we all slept together in our full-size bed with the shotgun within reach. This was a crazy night that will not be forgotten. And that is the story of the bear in the little white trailer.
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Happy Meal Christmas

It’s the hard times when I’m feeling alone and discouraged that I find myself going back to the past, when you have no doubt that God brought you through a hard time. This helps me feel safe, secure and it even helps me refocus, it even boosts my faith that God is bigger than anything I will ever face.
One of those memories I cherish is when Chrissy and I started out on this journey of serving God full-time.
Side Note: I know now that we had no clue as to the price we would pay for this calling that we had chosen to answer. This isn’t a bad thing, we just didn’t have any idea what our life was going to be like.
To start this new adventure, we asked God to help us pay off all our bills. With one tax rebate check, He made this happen to the dollar. We proceeded to pack up all of our belongings from our mobile home into a small moving truck.  We loaded our two young children and one Dalmatian puppy into the car. With one last look at our small, safe world, we left our family, friends, and any support systems we had grown up with.
We traveled 9 hours away to the most southern part of West Virginia to one of what they call the Twin Cities, Bluefield, WV. It was nestled in a valley of the Appalachian Mountains. Just across the state line in Virginia was another city called Bluefield, VA. Thus the twin cities nickname.
We moved here to go to Bible collage because, if you wanted to be successful in ministry, this is just what you do. As I had mentioned, we really had no clue what we were doing. I just believed that God was telling me to come follow Him and lead his people. So, since this college was the only one we knew about at the time, we signed up there.
Side Note: At this time, we didn’t have access to the Internet or even a computers, which would have helped us research this better. As it was, we went off of the word of a school recruiter, and trusted that God would provide the rest.
And that is how I became a student enrolled in Bible college. Unbeknownst to us, this college was one of the most conservative, legalistic schools on the east coast for the Church of Christ/Christian Churches. The very contemporary church that we were coming from was a Christian church. So, we figured this should be good. We didn’t know how wrong we could be. We didn’t even understand the difference between contemporary and traditional church styles. We assumed they were all like our great church.
Back in the 90’s, I only wore a button-up shirt and tie with dress pants at three places. One was when I worked as a professional photographer for a large corporation, and it was required. Two was a wedding and thirdly a funeral, where it was expected.  I tell you this because this is what I called “dressing up”. When I had gone to Penn State, I could wear whatever I rolled out of bed in. Not that I did, but I could have. Believe me, no one in the photo dark room cared what I looked like.
Not so with this place. Every day, in every class, I was expected to be wearing dress clothes. That is how conservative this college is. It didn’t take us long to figure out that we didn’t fit well, and many of the promises made to us to help us decide to come by the recruiter were unfulfilled. But that would not stop me I had a call from God, and I was sure of it.
One thing I failed to mention is that Chrissy was pregnant with our Jonah. So, on moving here we needed some support to help us get acclimated and get settled. Unfortunately, none of that happened. I was told that I could work at the school and that there were plenty of youth ministry positions at local churches that embraced the students of the school. Well, I did work for the school but they applied all of that money to my tuition for school. There were no loans or grants not even scholarships, because as we discovered, this school was not accredited. You paid as you went, and they made sure they received their payments.
We did have a few people and our home church who believed in what we were doing and us. The gifts that came in helped us put gas in the car and some food on the table.
After a few months of classes and trying to fit in, with still no real steady income, Christmas was coming and along with it, the time for Chrissy to give birth. Things were pretty discouraging, but I had faith that God would see us through.
Side note: Remember the puppy we took with us? Well, on arriving we were told no dogs. You need to find it a home. This puppy was a birthday gift for Ben, he loved the movie 101 Dalmatians. So we found a temporary home for her with one of the off campus students. We though it was a good home. To make a long story short, within weeks of her going to her new home she was hit by a car and broke her leg. The vet helped us fix her up. He told her that she was fine. A few weeks later, in spite of her vet’s bill of good health, we got a voicemail message from the other student saying, “Your dog is dead and I buried her in the yard.” Click. Wow! Not a good day.
So, at this point, I almost had it but I decide that I would do whatever I could to bring a few bucks in, and hopefully this would help us and make things better.
I also thought that whatever I made a little would go to taking the kids out for some fun. So we went to McDonalds  a few times and bought the kids Happy meals. It was late November, and 101 Dalmatians was the surprise toys in the Happy Meals. So, I had the brilliant idea that we would secretly remove the toys and keep them for Christmas gift for the kids.  
The closer we got to Christmas, our Happy Meal toy stash was growing. We hoped that somehow we would be able to buy a few real gifts for the kids, but it didn’t look good.
The grandparents were going to send some things; we knew that, but it’s just not the same as providing for your family. So, we prayed that God would provide. This is when we received a card in our mail on the same day we also received a discouraging anonymous piece of hate mail in the box too. (That is another story.)
In that card was a note saying, “I wish I could do what you are doing.  Merry Christmas!” with a cash gift enclosed. It wasn’t much but enough for Chrissy and I to get the kids a few gifts. And we still wrapped the happy meal toys and gave them to the kids.
After 20 years our grandkids play with these little toys and the Christmas ones are on display every Christmas as a reminder to us of God’s faithfulness. His Will, will always be done. Even if those around you are coming against you, and things look hopeless, if you place your trust in Jesus and stay faithful to what His Word says and what He has called you to, He will see you through.
It was a skinny Christmas, but it bound our family together and made us stronger. It actually taught our kids and us how to love and put others before ourselves. Look for opportunities to encourage anyone you can and let people know authentically that you appreciate them without expecting anything in return, even if you don’t understand why God has laid them on your heart. If you watch, God will show up and beautiful things will happen.

As I said this was a hard time, but looking back brings joy and hope to me as I hope it stirs up in your soul the same.