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An Uncertain Future

September 30, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 4 Comments

My husband and I married each other 27 years ago when he still had a year of college to go. We lived on just over $800 a month as he worked toward completing his degree in computer engineering. On the Friday before finals week, days after his 23rd birthday, he received a great job offer at a local company, which he promptly accepted. He worked hard, and they treated him well. As years working for the company turned into decades, we began to think that this may be the company he would work for until he retired. Over the years, the company went through a series of three buyouts. With each change came new procedures, less benefits, and more distance between upper management and the workers. It was frustrating for my husband, but he continued to work hard as a loyal employee. The salary, location, and job security fit in well with our family’s lifestyle.

Around noon on our last day of vacation a month ago, I received a text from a friend whose husband works with mine, “Hi, Julie. Have you heard any news today? Call me if you have. I just talked to my husband.” This immediately concerned me, but I wanted the two of us to enjoy our last day away so I texted her back, letting her know that we were out of the country and didn’t know anything. I watched my husband all afternoon for signs that he might know some information but didn’t want to bring up the subject. As we sat down to our final dinner of the trip, he said, “I have some news. The company is closing their west coast offices. If we don’t move to Florida, I won’t have a job after April.”

This news shocked and saddened us, causing us to contemplate our future. This job had been a major component of our lives longer than our children had! He had just celebrated 26 years with the company in May. We had just spent the week in high humidity and had agreed the day before that we would not thrive in a humid climate, so we quickly agreed that the move to Florida was not going to happen. This part of our lives was coming to an end, leaving us with dozens of questions and unknowns about the years to come.

We sat at that dinner table for well over an hour, talking about our next steps. We agreed to look at this change as an opportunity, not a catastrophe. It’s an opportunity for him to consider where he wants to spend his final years of work before retirement, an opportunity for me to emotionally support my husband more than ever, and an opportunity for us to grow in our relationship and in our faith in a God who keeps His promises.

I’m not going to lie. The last month has been rough. My husband has felt devalued by a company he devoted over half his life to serving, but I value him more than I ever have. We have no idea what our future looks like, where he’ll work, or how we’ll easily make it through the next months of an increasingly stressful, low morale work environment for him, but we do know that we will place our trust in God and continue to point one another to Him whenever concerns overwhelm us.

Pushing Past My Fears

September 27, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 3 Comments

I think I was born scared. My parents told me stories of my terror at my first Independence Day fireworks when I was less than 7 months old. I remember hiding under a blanket when the theme song to “I Dream of Jeannie” blared through the television, dreading the moment that the animated genie was sucked into the bottle. I was hesitant to ride a bike, jump in a pool, or call anyone on the phone. As I entered adolescence, I became preoccupied with my fear of other people’s opinions of me.

I let each fear and concern hold me back from taking risks or enjoying new activities. Then I became a mom. I delighted in my children’s new experiences and marveled at their bravery as they stepped into the unknown with more faith than fear.

As my children left the nest, I made the choice to push past fears. Instead of worrying what others thought or the worst case scenario, I would let my yes supersede my no. I had to remind myself that the chances of a mishap were small and that mishaps occurred even in everyday life. Sometimes I’d tremble and be close to tears but I’ve now driven an ATV, gone on a Segway tour, participated in 4 half marathons, rappelled into an underground cave, and zip lined. I have no idea what God has in store, but I plan to follow him boldly!

Back to School

August 17, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

I loved it from the moment I laid eyes on each building, path, bridge, garden, and pathway 30 years ago this summer. I was a 19-year-old transfer student, eager to embrace a new life at California State University, Chico, located three hours away from home. My mother did not share my enthusiasm as she peered into my first dorm room, muttering, “It looks like a prison.” Within a few days of moving in, I noticed a handsome dark-haired resident as I sorted mail at the front desk. Less than three years later, I married him. During my college years, I determined my values and morals, stretched myself as an adult, developed friendships that are still influential in my life, made some of my favorite memories in my life, and received a fabulous education.

My husband and I were lucky enough to settle in the same city where we attended university and raised our children only a couple miles away from the rose garden where we first kissed. We took our children to see performances at the auditorium on campus. We strolled through the campus with them from an early age. When it came time for them to determine where to attend college, their choice of majors and preferences in size and extracurricular activities also led them both to choose Chico State for their undergraduate degrees as well. They attended lectures in the buildings where we once studied. They met their closest companions. They thrived in their chosen career paths. While they attended, I became a member of the Parent Advisory Council, volunteering at many events. I beamed with pride on their graduation day in 2014, watching them cross the same stage their father and I had crossed to receive our degrees in 1990 and 1991.

I continued my involvement in the Parent Advisory Council after they graduated. Today it was my privilege to assist parents today as they moved their children in to the residence halls. I answered questions, consoled, gave advice, directed them to the right places, gave them swag, and sometimes handed them Kleenex as their emotions came bubbling to the surface. It was so fun to relive memories as I walked around the campus I love so much.

I have learned great practical tips that I observed from my experience as student, parent, community member, and volunteer, some by dismal failures I have made and some by observing others. Here’s some of my favorite:

Try to get all your shopping done at Target or Walmart before you arrive. These stores are a madhouse during move-in weeks.
Assemble a small toolkit for your child with a hammer, pliers, a screwdriver, duct tape, and hanging hooks.
Prepare to expand your flexibility and patience. If you start to lose your cool, your child’s final thoughts of you before you leave won’t be positive ones.
Make sure you pack lots of snacks.
Don’t overstay your welcome. Show your support, get them moved in, take them out for something to eat, then say your goodbyes.
Rest in a job well done. We raise them to leave the nest and soar!

She’s Married!

August 15, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

Abigail and Joseph, picture by Katelyn Owens photography

I awoke on July 8 with the weight of the world on my shoulders yet great anticipation. Today would be one of the biggest day of our lives as we celebrated our daughter entering into married life. My daughter told me that all she asked is that I would not be sick or stressed on this momentous day. I took comfort in my usual morning routines of a quiet time with Jesus, some brain games, and a quick breakfast with my vitamins before preparing myself to go to the church. I loaded up the car with last minute supplies and prayed with my husband before I headed over to the venue across town.

Abbie had a detailed schedule of the day for all of the people involved in the wedding, and the schedule told me to arrive at 10:30am for hair and makeup. I am not a girly-girl by any stretch of the imagination but had researched hairstyles that complement my hair length and color. Lexie, our amazing hair stylist and one of Abbie’s childhood friends, worked wonders on my hair. Likewise, another one of Abbie’s childhood friends, Emily, brought out features in my face that I didn’t even know existed. We had many hours of preparation and relaxation before the ceremony.

The entire day passed by in a joyful blur of love, music, smiles, laughter, pride, tears, activity, embraces, pictures, fun, reunions, dancing, waiting, celebrating, and waving goodbye. I had asked my friends to pray that the triple digit temperatures would miraculously decrease, thinking that would ensure the day’s “success.” God taught me a valuable lesson by not lowering the temperatures but lowering all stress and tension instead.

For any mothers anticipating their daughter’s weddings, I have some tips of what worked well for us.

If financially possible, get a hotel room for the bride and her closest bridesmaids the night or two before the wedding. This gives them independence and a last chance for bonding and gives you much needed peace and rest.
Bring a wireless speaker to the room where the bride is getting ready and play her favorite Pandora station. Music can soothe nerves and promote joy. My daughter’s request was the John Mayer station.
Order deli trays from the local supermarket to have in the bride’s and groom’s dressing rooms around lunchtime if the ceremony isn’t until mid to late afternoon. If a friend offers to help, have them pick up the deli trays and even split them between the bride’s and groom’s rooms.
Bring a small assortment of childhood toys to the dressing room if there are children in the ceremony. We had Legos and Fisher Price toys, and they were not only beneficial to the flower girl and ring bearer but also to the children of the pastor and worship leaders, not to mention some of the adults with a childlike heart. My husband and I had so much fun playing with 3 delightful little girls during the sound check, and we found that it relaxed us and reminded us of precious time spent playing with our daughter.
Take fun and candid pictures during the day, but don’t get in the way of the official photographer.
Don’t insist on your own way. This is your daughter’s wedding. Being right isn’t worth more than your relationship with your daughter.
Enjoy yourself! This is a great day where you get to see many people you love. Let them know what they mean to you and how honored you are that they are in attendance.
Stand back and observe the precious moments of the day, and tuck those memories into your heart for days when you are missing your little girl.
With much love from the father and mother of the bride!

My Broken Wedding Vows

August 7, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

My husband and I had agreed to exchange cards instead of gifts for our 27th anniversary since our finances and time were being consumed by our only daughter’s wedding coming up eight days later. I pondered what deep words to inscribe into the card and decided to track down our wedding vows and copy those words as my message to him in the card. I searched through boxes and closets to locate the wedding memory album that contained the vows. I finally found the book in an obscure corner of a bookshelf and flipped to the proper page. Memories flooded my mind as I thought about the evening we composed our vows. Two 22-year-old children who didn’t have a clue of what the years would bring discussing and drafting what we thought marriage would look like. If I recall correctly, afterward we collaborated on drawing a mustache and horns on Susan Lucci on the cover of TV Guide. That shows how mature and ready for marriage we were. I was shocked at the idealistic words we came up with, which read,

“I commit my life to you before all these witnesses.

I will use all of my tomorrows to the best of my ability to share with you in responsibility of creating a Christian home, full of love and understanding.

I will encourage and support you through all times, both good and bad.

I promise to always respect you and your ideas, and to never put myself first, but to always build you up.

And I ask you to hold me accountable in keeping God the center of our marriage.

I will be the best mother than I can be to our children.

And I promise to be your best friend for the rest of my life.”

I’ve broken these vows! How many times in our marriage have I selfishly put my needs above his? Have I always been the encouragement and support I should have been? Have we been accountable to one another about keeping God the center of our marriage? Is our home full of understanding? I started to panic.

Then I reflected on what we had done right. We are still best friends, and we’ve devoted ourselves to raising the children we’d not yet met when we wrote these words into amazing adults.

One of those amazing adults lay sprawled across our bed chatting with me two days before her own wedding. She confided that she hadn’t finished writing her vows. Now that I knew where ours were located, I pulled the book out and showed her. Her eyebrows rose as she silently read the promises and she muttered under her breath, “That’s a lot!”

Marriage is an arduous journey, yet so rewarding. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ve been so frustrated at times that I couldn’t see straight. I’ve wondered if we would beat the odds and keep our marriage together. Yet when I wake up early and watch my husband sleeping beside me, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I’m even more in love with him than the day we wrote the vows we’ve broken.

Confessions from the MOB

June 29, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

No, I haven’t joined organized crime. No, I am not part of an angry crowd. In nine short days, my only daughter is getting married, and I will be the Mother of the Bride.

Here are some observations I have about this time:

My emotions are constantly whirling…One minute I am so excited for the wedding and my daughter’s marriage and the next minute I can’t hold back the tears.

I really like hanging out with my daughter.

There are more expenses and decisions than I ever anticipated.

I can’t please all people at all times.

Planning can be a lot of fun.

I’m far more preoccupied with what I wear and how I will look than I thought I’d be.

Some of my suggestions are spot on, and some are really out of touch with the 21st century bride.

It’s not my wedding.

My daughter is going to be joined to someone else instead of us. Her name and address will change.

We do not need everything the bridal magazines suggest in order to get them married.

I have no control over the weather for the wedding.

Communication is key, and encouragement is vital.

It’s impossible to invite everyone that has been a part of Abbie and Joe’s lives.

I really miss my mom and wish I would have asked her all her secrets about wedding planning.

My hubby is a very sweet daddy when it comes to his little girl.

I really want to have a great time at this wedding.

I don’t know how I’m going to keep from crying on her big day.

I still think of Abbie as a little girl, but she has grown up to be an amazing and capable woman.

I’m really going to miss her.

It’s not about me.

Life is a Gift!

June 20, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

Today marks another anniversary that will always stick out in my mind. It may not sound like a positive experience, but it truly was a gift that redefined my life.

Three years ago today started as a fairly normal day with house chores, going out to lunch with a friend, then preparing to go to work. Then the day took a dramatic turn….I suddenly felt complete fatigue and collapsed on the coach. As the day progressed, so did my weakness, until I couldn’t move from the couch and I was struggling to swallow and breathe. It was frightening yet not totally unfamiliar. At the age of nineteen, I had been diagnosed with a neuromuscular disorder called myasthenia gravis. I had experienced bouts of weakness over the past 25 years, but this one felt the most severe. My husband was immersed in a project with a swiftly impending deadline, so I didn’t want to bother him, but I knew that I needed more help than rest on a couch could provide.

A few hours later, due to an insistent phone call from our daughter, Darren took me to the emergency room, and I was admitted to the neuro ICU and hooked up to a number of machines, especially one to help me breathe. Once I was settled there, Darren needed to go home and finish the project. I was still fully conscious, and my thoughts were beeping and whirring around in my head much like the machines that surrounded me. How had my life changed so profoundly in the course of a few hours? I’d always thought of the Intensive Care Unit as a place where people don’t often exit alive. Was the end of my time on earth near for me?

As I lay alone, I heard an electronic melody and immediately identified it as “Brahm’s Lullaby,” a song my mother had sung to me as a child. Was Mom sending me a message from heaven, calling me to join her? I later found out that the hospital PA system plays the song each time a baby is born in the maternity unit!

I reflected on my life…I had graduated both high school and college, married the love of my life, experienced motherhood with both a son and a daughter, and watched those two children graduate from both high school and college. Would this be the complete experience of my life? How would people remember me? I still had so much more I wanted to do with my life!

I received the blessing of a second chance. I stayed five days in the hospital before gaining enough strength to be released. The summer of 2014 was a limited one, spent mostly in a wheelchair at my dining room table with my Bible and a journal. I memorized the book of Philippians and found out just how much God loved me. He loved me so much that He didn’t want me living an over-stuffed, stressful life but instead one filled with purpose and love.

Three years later, I am in the best condition of my life–both physically and emotionally. Each day is a challenge to see just how many people I can make a difference with, care for, and love. I know firsthand that tomorrow is not assured, so I choose to live each day like it is the most precious gift that I could ever receive.

A Goodbye Said Too Soon

June 19, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 2 Comments

My Amazing Mom, LuAnn February 4, 1943-June 19, 2004

A girl will always need her mother, whether she is nine years old or forty-nine years old or even eighty-nine years old. I didn’t realize the truth of this statement until it was too late…..

So many of my earliest memories are of times spent with my mother. She taught me so many lessons through the way she acted and how she treated other people. Despite a difficult upbringing and unhappy marriage to my father, she remained positive and made it her goal to give us a better life than she had experienced. I am her youngest child, born when my mom was twenty-four years old. My sister was already approaching her 5th birthday by the time I arrived, so I had many hours of one on one time with her when my sister began elementary school. My mom and I shared a love of cats, chocolate, and the beach.

As I entered my teens, I became so determined to establish my independence from her. I regret that so much now. She loved me when I was quite unlovable. She retired to help plan my wedding and never complained as I squeezed her hand through each contraction of my two labors. She doted on my two children, calling them her “doll babies,” I knew she was always as close as the other end of the phone line.

Shortly after her 60th birthday, she began experiencing tremors in her hands. She kept this information to herself at first but then decided to seek medical attention to identify the cause. I was so wrapped up in my life as a homeschooling mother that I didn’t pay much attention until the day my husband came home from work early and wanted to speak with me privately. He compassionately told me that my mom had called him at work to tell him the diagnosis…cancer with metastasis to the brain. I listened in shock but then needed to spring into action as I accompanied her to many appointments and tests and helped her communicate this news to others.

The next year was a rough one as I watched her health decline even though she was fighting the disease so hard through radiation and chemotherapy. She didn’t want to leave us, but I felt her slipping away…..

During her final weeks, I would travel to her house for half of every week to take care of her. Even though it was so hard to leave my husband and children, I cherished the time with her. She could still talk and laugh and enjoy the Krispy Kreme doughnuts I would bring each time. Every day, I would sob in the shower so nobody else could hear.

One Saturday in June, my husband, twelve-year-old son, and myself picked up my ten-year-old daughter from camp close to my mom’s house and made a planned visit so Abbie could tell her Grandma Lu all about camp and my family could have a chance to see my mom. We spent a couple of fun hours together as Abbie sang camp songs and I attended to Mom’s needs. My sister and her husband were also coming for a visit that day as well. It was rare that we were all together since my sister and I were “tag team caregivers.” Mom was still fully alert but so physically weak that her legs crumbled beneath her and she scraped her leg, requiring medical attention. The ambulance arrived, and Mom calmly told the EMTs all the proper dosages of her current medications. Mom’s male companion, Jimmy, rode with her in the ambulance while my sister and her husband and my family and I followed in our own cars, fully expecting that Mom would be released after receiving stitches.

My mom lost consciousness in the ambulance and never regained it. After the medical personnel performed CPR on her for a while, we made the difficult decision to have them stop in accordance with Mom’s wishes. She died 13 years ago today.

So many times since that day I’ve reached for the phone to tell Mom some important news or to ask her a question, only to realize she can no longer answer. My absence remains an ache in my heart, but I have chosen to follow her example of optimism. Every day I do something that would make her proud. She will never truly be gone as long as her memory and lessons live on in those she loved.

I will never forget you, Mom!

The Race Set Before Me

May 8, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 0 Comments

I moved from California to Ohio between my freshman and sophomore years of high school and joined the cross country team to become involved in my new school. I had never been a fast runner, but in my unrealistic teenage thinking, my change of location would make me the fastest one on the team. I was the slowest member of the team, and I experienced significant knee pain. My high school cross country career ended after one season in 1983, and I never thought I’d run a race again.

One of our first races together!

My husband began running for exercise and recreation in the fall of 2009 when our children were in their senior year of high school. He enjoyed it, but I resented the time and money he spent on his new hobby. I had allowed the excuse of busyness and raising a family derail me from a regular exercise routine, and I had steadily put on nearly 80 pounds since my cross-country days. Running was the last thing on my mind or to-do list. Nearly three years later, when he couldn’t run a 5k for which he had registered, he asked me if I would walk it with him. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. In fact, as I approached the finish line, I joyfully broke out into a sprint over the finish line. I was hooked!

On my first solo run, I could only run one block before I had to stop and walk. I would head out a few days a week and increase my distance each time. I finally could start running 5k races. My husband was supportive, and it strengthened our marriage that we could share this hobby, even though he was much faster than I was. He began running half-marathons and even a full marathon, but I was content to jog no further than 3.1 miles.

After some severe health setbacks, I became determined to complete longer distances. My husband and I signed up to walk a half marathon as he recovered from injury and I recovered from illness. We crossed the finish line of the Running with the Bears half marathon in 4 hours and 23 minutes on August 15, 2015. Since then I’ve gone on to run a number of 10k races and 2 more half marathons.

Crossing the finish line of my first half-marathon!

Crossing the finish line of my second half-marathon exactly one year later. What a difference a year makes!

It isn’t easy to lace up my running shoes in the early morning when I’d rather be in my warm, comfortable bed, but I’ve never regretted the decision to exercise once I’m dressed and out on the road. I have dropped 60 pounds and gained great confidence. The stress melts away as my feet move to the beat of the worship music playing in my wireless headphones. I’ll never be the fastest, leanest runner of the pack, but I am faster and leaner than I used to be, and I am thankful to run the race set before me.

Pure joy on my face after shaving 33 minutes off my personal record for my half-marathon!

What Compels You?

April 18, 2017 / juliesc@pacbell.net / 2 Comments

I remember mornings as a young child. My mother would wake me up and tell me to prepare for the day ahead. Whether that was going to the beach or attending school, I wanted to please my mom, so I obeyed.

College was a new experience with nobody checking to make sure I was up and attending my classes. I soon learned that one of the main keys to an A or a B involved actually attending class. I made every effort to be at each class section because I was motivated by grades.

Within two years after college graduation, I brought my firstborn home from the hospital. His piercing cries in the night and complete dependence on me jolted me out of bed multiple times during the night and early in the morning. Less than 17 months later, his sister arrived, adding her voice and needs into the mix. The next 18 years with them were thousands of mornings of rising to tend to their needs and educate them. My love for my husband and children and desire to be a great wife and mom got me out of bed morning after morning.

Then, the children grew up and moved out on their own. They no longer needed me to take care of them. My husband remained home, but he is better at taking care of himself than I am. I floundered a bit, wondering what would excite me enough to pop out of bed with drive, energy, and purpose each day. I wrestled with my identity and significance as a person.

My son moved out over six years ago, and my daughter has been gone for over four years, and I’m just beginning to get a more focused picture of what the compelling force in my life needs to be. It can’t be based on shifting circumstances, but it needs to be based on the One who put the circumstances in my life and works all circumstances together for good.

The following verses have been rattling through my minds this week as I considered Christ’s death and Resurrection. “For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that One died for all, and therefore all died. And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again” (2 Corinthians 5:14-15 NIV). If I am compelled by Christ’s love, I have eternal purpose and endless possibilities. Christ’s love compels me to get out of bed on Mondays to walk both physically and spiritually with other moms on the same journey and to visit a widow to compel her out of bed. Christ’s love compels me out of bed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays to be trained and to teach in Bible Study Fellowship. Christ’s love compels me out of bed on Thursdays for a standing coffee date with 10 other women who sharpen me and point me to Jesus, to visit a friend’s mother who no longer drives, and to tutor reading at the local elementary school. Christ’s love compels me out of bed on Fridays to mentor up to 30 moms in our church’s Moms group. Christ’s love compels me out of bed on the weekends to spend time with my favorite person on earth, my husband. Christ’s love compels me to share what He is teaching me with you.

What compels you?

Empty Nest, Abundant Life