The big year of events

April 1999

This is the year I turn 25. I've just been convinced that our future wasn't where I'd always thought it was. 

This year was a milestone in our family...seems every five year birthday is a big deal for my mom. 

She was a partier, she loved to have luncheons, parties, and recognize her daughters especially. As you can gather from where I'm going with this, our relationship was a bit weathered by this point. I was spending more time with my mother in law and sister in law than I was my own mother and sisters. 

We had planned a trip to Disneyland, like many families do in the spring and summertime, where we lived. It was a trip with my husband's brother and wife, and their two children. We were excited, it was our first trip with our boys. My husband and I had been there as kids.

Among our excitement, a death of a family member's friend's father had occurred. This, putting his funeral falling on my birthday, and our trip to Disneyland happening the next day...

Needless to say, my "25th" birthday bash at my mom's house was postponed for the loss of this man in our church, and our trip to CA. We talked about holding this celebration until after we got back.

Well, days go by fast!

Mother's day is shortly after my birthday, as I believe we were driving back from CA during that day. Needless to say, I didn't spend it with my mom, or my husband's mom. I'm not sure what happened after we returned, but life filled with work schedules, swimming lessons, etc. took place of the birthday party.

A few months go by, less contact with my family, more with my husband's family. 

I remember a conversation in July with my oldest sister at a Thursday night meeting, where she asked me (while my boys were "playing") what we should plan for my mom's birthday. She would turn 50 this year. A HUGE milestone in my family's life.

I mentioned speaking to my sister at "church".

Yes, I asked to not go back.

Yes, I know our future wasn't there.

I needed to know for sure-just this one last time...

I went once more after I'd cried for my husband to never make me go back. 

He didn't care how long I went, but my sister in law did. 

She was furious that I went again that night, but the outcome of what I experienced at that meeting was a definite answer to our attendance any further!

My answer to my sister about planning my mom's 50th birthday party was, 

"Go ahead, I'm not really into planning anything birthday related." 

or something to the fact of 

"You want ME to plan a birthday party? It's freaking July for crying out loud!" 

So you can see the hesitation in my attitude. The way I was raised, you "do unto others" and no one had planned a party for me...why should I plan one for anyone else? 

Now, I can see what a poor attitude I had! Thank you Jesus for taking that from me!

Never went back to the Thursday night meetings.

August 4th rolls around! Wow...several months, still no birthday recognition for my milestone that everyone else made a bigger deal out of than me. Well, it happens to be my dad's birthday today...August 4. Not sure what age, but not a "milestone age".  One we'll always remember, but not milestone age.

Swimming lessons that morning. 

My nephew had them the same time as my son, so we were all gathered at the Oregon City Swimming pool. Since my mother hadn't been very present in our lives, I think had invited her to come watch the boys at swimming lessons, forgetting it was my dad's birthday. She obliged, and showed up to greet us at the curb.

I think she felt awkward there with my mother in law, sister in law, and myself. Like she didn't fit in. That was her body language she was portraying. She really didn't have a fondness for my husband's family. She put on a good show, but she didn't have to say that she'd rather not affiliate with them.

As we headed back to the truck afterwards, my sons rode with my mother in law and their cousin as we had planned to meet up the hill at my house afterwards.

My mom stopped me, as I'd been trying to ignore this conversation was coming...I couldn't get away from it...

My last Thursday night....

I went solo...again...with my two boys.

Things didn't look the same as we pulled into the parking lot, and entered the vestibule of the building. Not that they'd changed things up, since the remodel, but I saw people and situations in a different way.  It was hard to explain, but it wasn't what I'd hope to see.

After the meaningless conversations, singing the 10 songs, and some playtime for the boys, [shorter than had been in the past], I took the boys home and sat down to converse with my husband about the evening, how his day was, etc. 

I couldn't contain the tears. 

"Please..." I cried..."Don't make me go back there..." as I shook my head in disbelief that it had taken so long for me to see our future wasn't there. 

It wasn't in the 10 songs. 

It wasn't in the playtime.

It wasn't in the conversations about our vacations.

Where was our future? This I was unsure of. But I KNEW it wasn't there. 

God opened my eyes to what "this" I'd been fighting so hard for, and struggling so much with actually was. It was not a life for our children. It was not salvation for me or my husband.  I really wasn't sure what "it" was...gathering myself together with people that had no clue of the reality of what we needed.

From that night on, we discussed what we'd do with our lives, our home, our children, our job(s)... and it didn't include driving to the "Followers of Christ" building in Oregon City and singing songs of joy, hope, peace and love...and not receiving that, or fully comprehending what those even were.

After the tears subsided, I suggested to my husband that he take his boss up on the offer of going into management with his company.

He was celebrating his 7th year with the company, and after about the first couple years, his boss had encouraged him to try to go further. Go into management, starting with an assistant manager position. 

The answer was always, "No, it's not a good fit for my family" or something along those lines, as we had our "family" and our "church" and we couldn't leave that!

Well, once we'd both discovered what we'd be "leaving" management seemed more like a better fit for our family than we'd realized.

What excitement entered our lives when his boss was told we were ready to make that move.  We had no idea the blessings God had in store for us...

The discussion that started it all...

Getting back to the Blog topic, what "started" the "end" of our relationship with most everyone we knew our whole lives...

For several months, I'd noticed the "late night" work ethic my husband had. It was necessarily bad or really late at night, but late enough that he'd get home too late to attend meeting on Thursday nights.  The boys and I was just about to leave, or he'd get home after we were already at church. I'm assuming, with what I know now, he probably didn't want me to throw a fit of why he wasn't going.

Let's fast forward...we've had our two boys, questioning, and being questioned about our actions and beliefs, and now, it's April of 1999. 

I remember coming home from our meeting on Thursday night. We'd went, sat on a bench with other mothers and children that had husbands working or sick, whatever reason, but we sang our 10 songs, as tradition would have it, and let the kids play afterward for a few minutes [although sometimes it was more like 15 or 20]...then, I took the boys back home and was greeted by my husband. He'd got home from work and was awaiting our arrival.

I was trying not to be so angry, and I sat down...and bluntly asked him, "Why do you work so long on Thursday nights?" He smiled.  I continued to ask in search of an answer I really already knew, but was hoping I could convince him otherwise.

"You work so you don't have to go to church." I stated.

"Why do you go to church?" He asked.

Wow.    I had never been asked that before.    I was contemplating...   Was it to receive instruction from the Word of God?   no   Was it to learn biblical principles?   no   Hmmm... I was thinking, "What drives me to go each week, twice a week?" 

I surely didn't like excusing myself from going. It was easier to go, show up, sing, play, and go home. 

OH! I know why I go!

"So my mom doesn't call on Friday or Monday morning to ask if we're sick, or why we didn't go."

Did I just hear myself right?

I go to "church" to keep from having to answer to my mom.

Whoa.

What was I thinking? Is that really the reason? So, now I knew why he didn't like going...feeling like he had to defend his beliefs to people that didn't want to hear what he had to say, and being spoke wrongly about by people he didn't even know. [I had to point some people out, and even explain who people were to him at times.]  Yes, he'd grown up there, but didn't have the people skills that I had apparently.

Then, it dawned on me, who was I supposed to answer to? Who had I been trying to follow? Man? [or in this case, a woman...my mom] or was I trying to Follow Christ? hmm.

I go to "Followers of Christ church" am I following Christ? 

HOW can someone follow Christ? I sure had some praying to do, and some figuring out what God was trying to say to me. 

And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. Matthew 19:28 KJV

If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honour. John 12:26 KJV

among other verses in the bible, these stick out to me. If I am a follower of Christ, I will serve him, by following him, and in turn, will be rewarded.

proud parent moment(s) & Grace

This past week, I was incredibly blessed with my husband's mother spending time in our home with me and my children. My husband took our oldest son on a college visitation trip during his spring break from Wednesday to Saturday. When they arrived back home, at 1am Sunday morning, we all got some rest for one of the biggest events in our family.

My oldest son, Lucas, earned his Eagle Scout badge from Boy Scouts of America. We celebrated his achievement with his Eagle Court of Honor on Sunday along with some family, his troop members, and some friends from a bit further away. It was such a joyful occasion!

The ceremony was full of smiles, laughter and even a few tears.

Precious time with our friends and family that we'll never forget. After the cake had been eaten, and the soda had been drunk, we packed up all of the stars and scouting memorabilia, and headed home for a sweet visit with an out of town friend and my husband's oldest brother.

It's good to have family around. Family is a vital part of our lives. I have, over the years, adopted family members into my family (figuratively) and been adopted into a few families of my own...the biggest one, being God's family. I am more than happy to share my testimony of God, His son, (Him in the flesh), and the Holy Spirit that dwells in me with anyone who would hear, see, or believe.

This is a joyous time for our family, praying for what lies ahead for our son(s) & daughter, hoping for God's Grace and Mercy to be lavished on them as they grow in the Lord.

Please pray for our family, that we can SEE God's Mercies and Graciousness in our daily lives, sharing them through the fiery trials, temptations and tribulations we face as believers in Christ Jesus. My prayer for you is that if you DON'T know Jesus for who He is, what He did/does for us, that you please open a Bible, read it, pray for your eyes to be opened and your heart to receive God's Grace as he wipes your sins away...or, contact me shumag6@gmail.com

Easter in a new light

Growing up, Easter to me was new dresses, new shoes, maybe a hat, gloves, and a purse...plus dying eggs, bunnies, egg hunts, candy, prizes, being with family and a big potluck.

It wasn't until Easter of 2000 did I understand what Easter meant to many.

Our first church service outside of Oregon City was at a church in Gladstone just before spring to see where we'd like to attend on that special church day. I had to take my children to church on Easter. We left what we grew up with, for hope of finding Jesus Christ.

"He is Risen" was being sung by the choir. Huh...yeah, he isn't dead, I knew that much.

Wow...what a celebration. These people loved Jesus...

Ever since that service, Jesus has been our reason to celebrate this special day.  We celebrate His resurrection and sacrifice He made because of our sin and the salvation He gives freely to those who accept.

We have dyed eggs, we have had egg hunts, but we have not allowed the Easter bunny into our home for over 10 years. We try to bring Jesus into each celebration we have. I give my children chocolate crosses and remind them that Jesus sacrificed himself on the cross, defeated death, rose on the third day, like He promised...and lives...seated at the right hand of Our father in Heaven

This year, we didn't dye eggs nor have we hunted them...but it's not a religious reason...just too busy! It's not important to us as the kids grow. We dressed up (4 of us anyway), with one child sick home with daddy, I took three kids to church, had breakfast with friends and heard a wonderful sermon about Jesus.

For lunch, my daughter and I made resurrection rolls that were hollow inside just like Jesus' tomb.

Enjoy this resurrection day, even if you dye eggs and hunt them...remember Jesus tomb is empty and He is risen!!

We took him to a DOCTOR!?

**This post can also be found on Does Air Exist? A Blog of my sister in law Suzi. I had been writing for her blog, and was led to start my own. suzanneshumaker.blogspot.com


Here we were, raising our two boys, and just weeks into our second son's life, I discovered a bulge in his groin. This was common among Follower families, (at least mine). My nephew had something similar prior to his return home from my parent's house after his birth. My sister, her husband, and their new baby lived at our home for what seemed like months...it maybe wasn't that long. 

From what I remember about my son's experience, I called my mom, she told me to call my sister. My sister came over, and could find nothing wrong. The lump wasn't there. She said to keep an eye on it. Seemed like every time I had to change his diaper, it was there, and whenever I tried to show someone, it wasn't. My sister told me to call another woman in the church that had more experience with this condition. So, I made the phone call. She wasn't able to come over, since her child had chicken pox, but she told me some suggestions.

After describing what this lady told me, with my husband, he suggested taking our son to a doctor. WHAT?  Really? He wanted me to go to a doctor? Whoa...
But his explanation was spot on. He said that instead of calling a bunch of women that don't have knowledge of what this was, to take him to someone that did have knowledge. What was the difference in calling a bunch of different think so ideas than finding the real reason behind it.

We talked about where we'd go from there. If the doctor said he'd need surgery, we'd think about that option, but wouldn't do anything without praying about it first. Let's just find out first.       

I made an appointment at the Health Office in Oregon City. I was nervous, but had been there as a child with my own mother, getting some type of lotion for a rash my sister and I had. Once the appointment had been made, I asked my mom if she'd come with me to take him there, since my husband had to be at work. She turned her nose up at the idea, and said she didn't want to go with me. She did not support us taking our son to the health department, but she took my sister and I? I was confused. What was the difference of a rash we had, or a lump that my son occasionally had?

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law babysat my oldest son while I took the baby to the health department alone. I'm not sure why my mother-in-law didn't come, but it wasn't because she opposed it. My husband's family supported doing the right thing.

While at the doctor’s office, I was asked all kinds of questions about my baby. Who was his doctor, where is his shot record, did he have a PKU test? They made me strip my newborn and put him on a scale. They weren't very loving or friendly about it either. The nurses made a big deal about him having a hernia and he'd have to have surgery. They were kind of mean to me and intimidating because my newborn didn't have a pediatrician. When the friendly, male doctor arrived in the room, he put me at ease with a smile, and examined my baby. "Oh, this is a...." He explained. To this day I can't remember the name he used, but described it as fluid buildup. It was not a hernia like the nurse insisted it was. He did NOT need surgery.

The doctor said he'd seen it lots, and it typically goes away on its own in about a year's time. He said by the time my baby was walking, we would not even notice it. The doctor left, and the nurse stopped me in the hall and asked who delivered my baby. They then attempted to take a PKU test. She ripped his sock off and tried poking his heel.  I was disgruntled, and grabbed the sock back and covered his feet with his blanket as I walked out to the car.

By this time, my son was screaming. We had not gotten off on a very good nursing habit and he was hungry and upset at all of this commotion. I was practically in tears. I tried nursing him in the car, but he would have no part of it. I put him back in his car seat, screaming all the way home. What a nightmare.

But, thankfully, we could rest in the fact that it was not life threatening, he wouldn't sustain any harm from whatever this was, and eventually, it would go away. This could be a long first year...

In our experiences, with sickness and injuries, we anointed with olive oil. So, after sharing with my husband the prognosis of our son's affliction, he told me to anoint him every day and we'll pray that he's healed. So, we did just that. When my husband cared for him, he'd anoint him, when I cared for him, I would anoint him. It didn't seem to bother our baby, but we kept on even when we didn't see the big bulge. Faithfully, every day, we anointed him, praying for healing in Jesus’ name.

It seemed like the right thing to do...pray for someone that was afflicted, injured, or sick. We all met over at my mother's bedside praying for her, as she lay in bed afflicted with the swollen belly. She had been down for what seemed to be a couple of weeks, and our baby was probably a month old or better. While my sisters and I were in her room, visiting, I explained to them we'd like them to pray for our baby. I told them what was the matter, but leaving out the part that I'd "taken him in". My oldest sister rose up out of her chair, and loudly voiced her opinion of no, she would not pray for him, as we'd taken him to a doctor. Her words to my knowledge were, "Oh, you take him to a doctor and THEN want us to PRAY for him?" as she stormed out of my mother's bedroom.
Wow! I sat in awe. I was speechless! How can one say they are a follower of Christ and deny prayer to another humbly asking? My mom just laid there, shocked at her daughter's response.  I can't even remember what happened after that.

I believe our son was about three months old, when we noticed the last few times we had anointed him, we didn't see any bulge.  I'm not sure if it got smaller over time, or what, but he was not nearly one year old when this fluid buildup was gone. Our prayers had been answered, he had been healed. We thanked God for his mercy with our son.

Imagine, God having mercy on someone who went to a doctor. God is good, and we believed that.

Births of our first two...

So let's see about paraphrasing the next several years...we had our first son, at my mom and dad's house, and Suzi was not allowed at the birth. All of my family was there, my husband's mother and several ladies from church saw me through the 13 1/2 hrs of pushing the entire time, our 10 lb. baby into my arms...what a blessing, and I'm thanking Jesus as soon as he's crying, and they're all telling me to be quiet! I still remember the stale smoke smell, that's how I knew my dad was there, and he was congratulating me (at my head of course) Suzanne was allowed to come see her nephew on an evening that my mom had pre-approved where we weren't likely to get visitors. It was church or a wedding, I'm uncertain which. We took a few pictures of them together, but then she had to go. I was cared for over 10 days at my dad and mom's house. My first born was born in the same house I was born in!
Fast forwarding two years and three months later...
Son number two was born at my parents house (new location) as they finally made the move to Oregon City like most of the other congregation we belonged to. Even though my wordly sister in law was not allowed at my first baby's birth, she'd came back to church, so she was technically allowed, but my oldest sister opposed the idea by protesting she couldn't go if Suzanne were there, as per her husband's rule. Come to find out, that was a lie...her husband denied saying she couldn't go when my husband confronted him about it. So...to keep the peace, Suzanne didn't go. I honestly to this day, feel badly about this decision. But, I wasn't a wave maker like my husband had been accused of being.
Suzanne was allowed to come visit, without secretly sneaking her in like we did the last time I gave birth to her nephew.