The early years…

I’ve been meeting people lately and talking about my calling to Brazil, which has undoubtedly provided much encouragement for me.  But I started to realize that the conversations usually end up with a story of how I realized that calling and my testament of Christ in my life, or a combination of both.  Of course, I love to talk about it, because there is only one explanation for all of this craziness…..God!  The foolishness of the Gospel…..

So I  thought it would be good to post this on the blog in a couple installments, but over time, I’ll get it all out there.  Starting with some background…

I’m going to be a farmer…that’s where it all started in the town where I was raised.  I spent the first 8 or so years of my life in the little town of Claytonville, Illinois, 60942.  That’s right, we had a post office (it was only open a couple hours a day, but it was there).  Less than 50 people and at least as many dogs, where the kids ruled the town (or so we thought), and the only worry was how dirty we were going to get that day.  Remember this was the small town USA in the 80’s, so parents had the blessing of just letting the kids go….no worries about kidnapping or any of that stuff.  It was a given that we were going to get hurt (probably doing something that we weren’t supposed to be doing) and we got tougher from it.  I don’t know how well that philosophy flies today :-)  We had assorted ages of kids all the while I was there.  I remember looking up to them, after all, they got to ride in the back of t

East Central Illinois

he bus, and then a couple years later drove to school.  How awesome it was when we got to ride with them.

I have vivid memories of time spent with my dad, Merle, and some other families from Claytonville…..fishing in Mud Creek, snowmobiling, riding in the “floater” (truck used to spread fertilizer on fields, my dad was a custom applicator), visiting the farm (where my dad grew up but my uncle lives there and took it over), cutting wood and later splitting it for use in our wood burning stove, camping, and boy scouts.  I could go on…..of course, my brother Carl is present in most of these memories as well, being only two years younger than me.  It was really a love-hate relationship between us though, typical of most brothers growing up!

My grandpa Ray Eisenmann, was in my estimation, the most influential person in my life as a small kid.  He was the epitome of what I wanted to become.  A man of faith and conviction, he demonstrated to me as a little boy a myriad of character traits that I latched on to and still demonstrate today: work ethic, motivation, dedication, respect (for the land, heritage, family, and possessions that were provided by God).  He was semi-retired from farming at this time, but still worked with my uncle most of the year.  I don’t remember my grandparents ever having the biggest and the best, but what they did have was taken care of to the best of their ability.  Most of my memories of him involve farming (hence my desire to be a farmer, a dream that didn’t absolve until after I was in college).  Whenever my cousins and I reminisce about him our remembrance of what seemed like child labor always  comes up, followed by trips to the Dairy Queen…..but some how we all survived, and none of us are afraid to work…..HARD…..ALL DAY.  Much of America has lost that, but I’m thankful for my grandparents who passed it on, the value of a days work.  Otherwise I remember riding in the tractor with him, getting to drive for the first time, walking beans (we got ALL the weeds, not just the ones that you could see from the road), walking road ditches to pick up garbage, taking care of the garden, picking apples, harvesting sweet corn, running walnuts through the old hand crank corn sheller, playing in the wagons while sitting on the end rows waiting for that next hopper of corn, and listening to the Cubbies on WGN!

My parents (Merle and Frances) weren’t Christians at this time, but we still went to church on Sunday.  I remember Sunday School as a kid and being taught the OT bible stories and miracles of Jesus.  I thank the Lord for this foundation.  The Eisenmann family came to the US and started our farm in 1881.  The man was John Adam Eisenmann whom I was named after.  The Apostolic Christian Church of Cissna Park was located on our farm in Fountain Creek Township.  The cemetery is still there (remnants any way after years of deterioration), and the creek where baptisms were done.  The church was later moved, but I could still point to the hill where it once stood.  This is the church that I would later become a member of, albeit in another town in Central Illinois.

In the midst of all this growing up stuff, my brother and I were unfortunately subjected to the trend of divorce that is so prevalent in America today.  It definitely posed some unique challenges and situations growing up, and caused some undue hurt in my life.  I used to question it, and wonder how life would have been different had it not happened that way.  What I realize now is that it doesn’t matter.  It happened and is in the past.  What is pertinent now is how I’ve responded to it and how it is currently affecting my life.  By the grace of God, I’ve been able to move past the negative of the situation, and focus on the positive such as additional family (both my parents remarried).  That’s my life as I know it.  God has used it to shape me and give me a life story that is different from anybody else I know.

My mom moved to Cissna Park and my brother and I went with while my dad stayed in the house where we grew up.  Don’t worry, Cissna Park was only 4 miles away from Claytonville.  So while I technically didn’t live there “full time” anymore, my dad was there until I made it to high school.

Up next, the Cissna Park years……..

Peace,

JAE