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.

Brother Ray and the Pearls

Brother Ray and the Pearls

I know that last week I said I would tell you all about “Turkey Breast, not Turkey Roll,” but I’ve changed my mind. That is just going to have to wait; for some reason I feel the need to tell you a different story.

A few years back, our family had started selling “Sandy Candy” to make some extra money and teach the kids about running a business. The tag line was “Art you can eat!” So, it was like sand art, except it was colorful, powdered candy. We traveled around to different kind of events, festivals and such to raise money to go on mission trips to Honduras with our family.

While doing this, we met a lot of interesting people and had some crazy experiences, and well, why not? We’re the Hunter Clan, right?

One time we booked ourselves at an alternative Christian music festival called Cornerstone. We actually tent camped all week while we worked. The kids got to go hear some great music and meet some great people.

Side Note:  This is the event at which Silas, age of 9, managed to crowd surf during a rocking Hawk Nelson concert. One of the band members got scared for him and pulled him up on stage! Here is my parental disclaimer: His mother and I had no idea what was happening.  Silas was “being chaperoned” by his oldest brother, Ben, and the rest of the kids. But that is another story for another time, though it was pretty cool!

Anyway, the best part for this mature 80’s Christian rock fan was that our booth was set up right next to the retro band tent. The retro band tent that featured such artists as oh, Degarmo and Key, The Lost Dogs, The 77’s and more. Some of you older people might recognize these names.  

It was great! We discovered some cool bands we’d never heard of, like The Glen Clark Family, which played cool blues-rock, folk music. It‘s a great jam. Chrissy and I obviously fell in love with their music. At some time during the week, we made our way to their merchandise booth.

 As we walked up to their table, we were greeted by an older man. Looking at him you could tell he had lived some hard years. I remember looking into his well-tanned, worn face, as he smiled a partially toothless smile that gave way to soft wrinkles across his face. I was drawn to the sparkle in his caring, icy blue eyes. His shoulder-length, unkempt hair and his clothes reminded me of pictures I had seen of the hippie Jesus people of the 6o’s. 

He introduced himself as Brother Ray. He asked how our day was, and without missing a beat, he asked if he could tell us a story? He said, “I love to tell stories, and I have one just for you. 

Not knowing what we were getting into, my wife quickly replied that we would love to hear a story as she thoughtfully smiled back at him. We leaned in a bit to hear his words as he began his tale of a little girl and her treasure. It went like this.

There was a little girl who loved her daddy with all her heart. This little girl’s daddy’s work would take him away from time to time, and when he returned he would often have gifts for his precious little girl.

One such time, the father gave his daughter a set of faux pearls that she loved. She wore these pearls everywhere she went; she didn’t even take them off at bedtime. She didn’t allow anyone to touch her special pearls. They were her prize possession. If anyone tried to remove them or even touch them she gripped them tightly saying, “No, no, no!” With resolve in her little-girl voice, she would proclaim, “These are my pearls!”  This went on for months.

Another tradition the Father had with his little girl was when he was home, he would spend time cuddling with her as he tucked her into bed. Saying prayers with her, ending with a goodnight kiss, telling her that he loved her more than anything.

One night the little girl’s father came back from a trip, and he had started their bedtime ritual.

He tucked her into bed, looking into her little eyes, he asked, “Honey, can daddy have those pearls?  Quickly sitting up, gripping her necklace, the little girl exclaimed “Oh, no daddy, not my pearls! I can’t give you my most special pearls!”

The father smiled and comforted her by saying, “Okay honey. Settle down, it’s okay.” He tucked her in and prayed with her, told her “I love you more than anything,” and left the room.

The next night, bedtime arrived. Again, the father tucked her in and looked at her with loving eyes asking her,

“Sweetheart, won’t you give daddy those old pearls?”  With tears welling up in her eyes, she tightly clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, holding tightly to the treasure around her neck. With her voice quivering, she said “Oh daddy no! Please don’t ask me for my pearls. You can have anything else. Take my teddy or my dolly, but please don’t take my pearls”

The father smiled, and calmly said, “Okay, baby, don’t worry, I won’t take your pearls.” He tucked her into bed, prayed with her, told her “I love you more than anything,” and left the room.

This went on for what seemed like weeks. Over and over again, the father was met with resistance from his precious child. Night after night, the father would graciously accept her refusal to his request.

Then one night when the father entered his daughters’ room to tuck her into bed, he found his darling girl sitting knees to chest on her bed.

With one glance at her daddy, the tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. Her arm flung out to her daddy with a tightly gripped fist holding her treasured necklace; through sobs he heard her trembling little voice as she mustered.

“Take them, daddy, please take them! I can’t take it any more! Please take my pearls, they’re yours!” The father sat down slowly next to his little bundle of joy.

He took his thick finger, placed it under her quivering chin, and he slowly lifted her face till their eyes met. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, “oh sweet child, thank you.”

Wiping away the tears rolling down her soft cheeks, he spoke again, softly with love and compassion in his voice.  “Honey, because you gave me your treasure, I want to give you something that is more valuable and precious than those old, worn out, fake pearls that you have been so tightly holding on to.

As he said this, he reached into his pocket and revealed a long string of the most beautiful real authentic pearls.  He carefully placed them around his child’s neck and said, “You make them look so beautiful!” She leapt from her bed into her daddy’s arms, kissing his face and squeezing his neck, saying over and over again, “Thank you, daddy, I absolutely love them!”

It seemed like time had stood still as Chrissy and I were intently listening to the old man’s story. Brother Ray looked into my wife’s face and smiled and said, “That is the way our Heavenly Father is, you know? He loves you so deeply; you are His precious child, a child that He loves more than you will ever know.  Reaching out and touching both of our hands, looking intently into each of our eyes, he said with a big smile that lit up his entire face, “He has amazing things in store for you, but you must hand over the old pearls.”

I’m really not sure what took place after this; I can’t remember, but I have never forgotten the story and the lesson that Brother Ray shared with us. I thank God for this brief life-changing experience.

I hope this story has blessed you this week. Lastly, please give up whatever cheap fake pearls you’re holding onto so tightly. Willingly hand them over to the Savior, and let the Father pour His unconditional love out on you.

Next week's blog title will be a mystery one!

Frogs, Frogs, and More Frogs!

Frogs, Frogs, and More Frogs!

Well, I have been thinking on this all week! Now it’s time for one of the Hunter Clan’s Stories that frequently get repeated around the dinner table on Sunday evenings.

I have to start out by saying I totally understand fears and phobias. If you follow my blog, you will find out about some of my own craziness soon.

 Today, I need to focus in on the love of my life, Chrissy. If you have ever been around Chrissy for any extended amount of time you will learn that she has a very high dislike for things the slither, hop, or wriggle quickly across the earth.

The two creatures for Chrissy, that evoke a blood curdling shriek with dancing and prancing around, like one of those African tribes men doing a rain dance, followed by a full-blown panic attack, are frogs and toads.

I think this behavior stemmed from a childhood experience of  watching  her mom rescue a frog from a snake’s mouth. Chrissy watched as her mother took a garden rake and slammed it down on a poor un-suspecting snake enjoying a plump froggy dinner. The rake hit the snake behind the head, and  I’m told the force of the deathblow forced the frog from the snake’s mouth and projected it across the yard.

This traumatic experience has left a scar which makes her absolutely disgusted by amphibians. Then again, it could have been the so-called toad farms that her brothers kept in the window wells of the house. Either way she can’t stand these creatures.

One last bit of information you need to know before the story is that Chrissy is an amazing mom and whole-heartedly believes in homeschooling. She has homeschooled all four of our children. With that said, sometimes her fears will be overcome for the sake of an investigative learning experience. This can be an awesome thing, but then again it can bring on some of the most horrifying tales to be told.

One summer we had been given an amazing gift of a week in a friend’s family cabin in upper Wisconsin. We had just started a new ministry months earlier and money, well, it was tight. At this time vacations were unheard of for our family. To sum up vacations for us at that time, I will borrow some lyrics from one of my favorite artists Family Force Five, “Never heard of vacation, I think they give those away on the radio station.” Yup, that was us.

The cabin was located on a remote lake in the middle of nowhere. If Walgreens was going to have a store on every corner, they must not have heard about this place; even the closest Wal-Mart was about 75 miles away! This was not off the grid, this was beyond off the grid. It was fabulous!

We had our 4 kids and two dogs, our sweet Dalmatian, Lily, and a dumb Doberman named Maximus Decimus Meridius. (He was named after the main character from the movie The Gladiator, and that’s another story all together-- “Are you not entertained?”) Anyway, we called him Max for short.

 We packed up all our necessities in our newly acquired GMC Safari van. (By newly acquired, I mean we were blessed by another family with the van as a gift.) Again, to say that we were tight would be an understatement. We were so tight in the van that I had to stop the van and get out to change our minds on what direction we were going. That didn’t matter to us. We were on vacay! WhooHoo!

When we arrived, it was amazing. We were on a lake- we had a row boat with a 20 hp outboard on it. The kids were like, “Awesome, we can tube!” We also had access to 4 wheelers and acres of forest to explore. That week we explored, fished and hiked. If we could do it, we did. We even did some schooling with the kids. It’s great when you can teach kids without them knowing that you’re teaching them. If I remember correctly, it started out as a contest. Who could catch the biggest bullfrog?

Then once the frogs were caught, we had a brave lesson on amphibians by Chrissy. I don’t remember who it was but I believe it was Jonah and Silas that kept the contest going throughout the week.

The week came to a close with wonderful memories and many adventures-- all great stories to tell. I do remember one of the kids asking for a box as we were packing the car. I found one for them in the craziness of packing the van back up for the 6-hour trip home. I had no idea why they wanted it or who needed it. I just assumed that Chrissy needed it for something. Little did I know we were going to be secretly transporting four huge bullfrogs from the Wisconsin cabin to Chicago.

As with most of our family adventures, we left behind schedule, but figured we would make up time once we reached the interstate highway. Boy, we couldn’t have been more wrong. The first part of the trip was great. Kids were calm, the dogs we settled, the 4-40 air conditioning was on.

Side Note: This is a very special high tech type of AC. It requires four windows rolled down and maintaining a speed of 40mph. The breeze flowing through the van cooled us down nicely. In other words, the AC didn’t work great, and having the windows down was better.

Like I was saying, the first part of the trip was great. Wind in our faces, music on the radio, kids and dogs mostly zonked. Chrissy was doing what she does on trips, she was reading something.

Side Note: Not much will ever interrupt her. I mean, the kids could be setting off fireworks in the back seat and she would be oblivious. Okay, perhaps not fireworks but something close to it.  Like Silas teasing his sister, trying convince Tori that the  snow crab claws that he pocketed from the Chinese buffet will make great hair barrettes.  You get the picture.

Then we were coming up on the Illinois/Wisconsin line and traffic started to get heavy. We were used to this but then we saw the cause-- road construction.  From that point, it was stop and start, and even a few sudden stops. Finally, traffic opened up, and we were flying, going down the road with the flow of traffic. That is when I heard from the back seats some sort of commotion. I looked in the rearview mirror to see the kids frantically looking at each other with panic on their faces. Nuts, I forgot to tell you about the camcorder.

Side Note: On this trip our oldest son Ben decided that he would document the family adventure with our camcorder.  He was doing interviews, surprise tapings, and so on. Everyone was getting somewhat annoyed with him.

Okay, so looking in the mirror, I thought, “Great, what did you do now, Ben? Our eyes met, and I knew right then that something was wrong. The dogs are moving around the van, agitated and excited. Three of the kids begin anxiously searching the van floor for something. All I see are feet and legs in the air. All the while, Ben is recording. He has this sheepish grin on his face. It’s the kind of look that kids have when they know something big is going to happen, and they want to be a part of it, be it good or bad.

Don’t forget, Chrissy is focused on her book in the front seat. I turn my head to look back at the kids and ask, “What’s going on?” when I see it. Remember the box that I gave the kids while packing the van? Yeah, it wasn’t for Chrissy. I see the open box holding one of the huge frogs that the kids had caught at the cabin. I immediately ask, “What are you doing with that? At that moment I hear someone yell, “I was just checking on them!” That’s right it was plural, more than one. The rest well… the rest is is now known as the Frog Incident of ‘04.

The kids started loudly blaming each other and the dogs started going nuts. Meanwhile, Chrissy is still reading, totally oblivious to the situation. And we’re still traveling with the flow traffic.

Then some one yells, “I found one,” and I hear a loud “CROAK.” Then “Oh, there’s another one!” Then “Grab Max!” “Lily’s going to eat them!” “Wow! They’re fast!”

Finally, all this commotion broke through Chrissy’s reading focus. She looked at me and said, “What is going…” Right then midsentence, I saw a bullfrog stretched out like it was making an Olympic long jump, fly through the air into the front of the van, smack into the windshield, only to turn around and launch itself over Chrissy’s head. I remember yelling “Noooooo!” while trying to drive straight and grab the frog all at once.

The van was shaking with all the commotion.

The look of sheer horror on my beautiful bride’s face was terrifying, even to me. I have never seen anyone remove a seatbelt so fast in all my life, all the while screaming. She hurled her book at the rocketing, ribbiting creature-- only to hit me with it. Watching her try to escape this frog, reminded me of cartoon characters trying to run but not going anywhere. The legs are moving, but they have no forward motion. She flew out of her seat and wedged herself up on the dash of the van.

It was only by the grace of God that we didn’t crash. Of course this is all happening in slow motion. Jumping frogs,  screaming wife, and next thing I saw was the camcorder flying through the air. It landed with a bounce on the passenger seat where Chrissy was sitting. I’m yelling, half laughing, “Get those frogs!” The kids are scrambling, yelling, grabbing frogs. I have a hyperventilating woman on the dash of the van.

I can only imagine what people were seeing or thinking as I tried to get to the side of the highway. 

I pull the van off to the side of the road, the side door flies open, and kids pour out with frogs in hands raised over their heads like they just won a major competition. I get out and run around to the other side of the van. Open my wife’s door and peel her off the dashboard.

I was sure that I would have to give her CPR or call an ambulance. I gave her a bag to breath in and out of as she sat on the edge of the van seat, in a somewhat catatonic state. I thought this would take years of rehabilitation and family counseling to recover from this one.

I somehow convinced her that the frogs are all accounted for, and I promised that we would release them on the side of the road.

After calming everyone down and reloading everyone back into the van, we had a talk about how we needed to respect all living things by leaving them in their own habitat.

We then discovered the camcorder on the floor between the front seats still recording. I remember that we were all so excited, because we had the video that was going to win us $10,000.00 on America’s Funniest Home Videos. But, after reviewing the tape we discovered that our budding videographer didn’t catch much video of the event. The only thing he caught was the audio of the whole ordeal. Which was very funny. Unfortunately, I can’t find the tape to share even the audio now.

So, this has so many life lessons and applications. The biggest thing the kids learned was, if you want to see mom freak out, just trap her in a small space with a scared amphibian! That friend’s, is the story of the Frogs from Wisconsin.

Don’t forget to comment, share your thoughts, and subscribe. Watch for next week’s story. “Turkey Breast, Not Turkey Roll!”

The Challenge!

So one day I got to thinking…

Side Note:  Thinking for me is always a dangerous thing because usually this is followed by some sort of hair-brained, crazy idea that either gets me into trouble, or I end up doing something that is larger than life. Go big or go home. Right?

Anyway as I said, I was thinking that I needed an outlet where I could be creative and express myself. I also wanted to get some of the fun, crazy stories my family has experienced on this adventure we call the Life of a Hunter.

Side Note: When I told Chrissy (my amazing, smart, beautiful wife) my idea, She encouragingly said, I don’t think we have a lot of entertaining stories from our lives; of course I had to emphatically disagree and press on.

The last thing I needed was to have some accountability.

I decided to challenge myself to a year of stories. So I made my mind up, I would come up with 52 stories over the next year.  I may do more, and that’s okay, but the challenge is at the end of 52 weeks I would have completed 52 stories/rants/experiences that in some way gives a reader a glimpse into the Hunter Adventure.

To keep me accountable I thought what better way than to post it somewhere for the entire world to see.  Brilliant!

Side Note: Some days I feel like a live in a fish bowl, so why not let the entire world see things from my point of view? 

Not that I would have huge following that would rave about how funny my life has been and send fan mail to beg for more stories of my life.

It’s just the fact, that there maybe someone out there who notices that on one week, I don’t write. Then I see them and they say, “Hey, don’t I know you? Yeah, you’re that guy that challenged himself to that crazy idea of writing a story a week, and then posting it for the world to see?”

Then I will have to say shamefully,” Yes, yes! (emotional crying out loud) It’s me!” I will then hang my head in despair, take the cone of shame, place it around my neck, hunch over,  slowly turn and walk away.

So, yup pretty sure this will motivate me and keep me accountable for the 52 weeks.

I’m not sure it will be entertaining, witty or even funny. More than likely it will not be grammatically correct. It may even have a few misspelled words.  What I am sure of is that it will be authentic, truthful, and full of crazy thoughts. It may even have some raw transparency that shows who I am.

So to start I have a list of topics that well exceeds 52.  If you want, follow my blog and help keep me accountable, this way I don’t have to wear the cone of shame! I would welcome it your help!

You could even subscribe to my blog! That way if you miss a post for some reason and we see each other in public, we won't have any kind of huge argument, that store management or local authorities would have to break up as we get our pictures on the nightly news. Yeah… so, you might want to bypass all that and subscribe.

Okay, well…  start week is done!

On to the next weeks topic: Frogs, Frogs, and More Frogs!