WHY US?

 May 7, 1931, Joe and Ethel chapman welcomed little Roe Leecie Chapman into the family. Two older sisters and brother preceded Leecie and two sisters followed her. She became Joe’s long-legged Sally. She was the tallest of the six inheriting her height from Joe. All the others were short like Ethel.

Leecie would be Joe’s second son wearing overalls and work shoes working alongside of her brother doing chores around the farm. Everyday Leecie would wrestle her brother holding him to the ground until he yelled “calf rope.”  She worked and fought like a man. She could plow a mule, drive a tractor, and split firewood.

Leecie hated school. She went to the seventh grade before quitting to pick cotton and to work as a hired hand doing the chores of maintaining a farm. She worked hard her entire life. Even though she worked long and hard she never had much money, but she married and had four children which she said made her rich.

She married Mitchell Clark Hopper Jr. on February 4, 1950. He was seven years her senior. Folks called him J M for Junior Mitchell. Where Leecie never ventured far from Chilton County Alabama. J M had traveled to North Africa and Italy with the United States Army. J M would take Leecie to live in Illinois when Leecie was in her mid-twenties returning to rural Alabama in March 1960.

In 1969 she went to work outside the home to help support the family. In 1982 doctors diagnosed J M with two brain tumors. Leecie worked and cared from him until his death May 27, 1984. Leecie had a mole on her back that was melanoma cancer. Doctors removed the mole and diseased tissue down to her spine. She never allowed the pain to prevent her from caring for J M.

Losing J M was devastating for Leecie. One to never quit, she seemed give up living. By brothers and sister encouraged, but she grew discouraged and had aliments that doctors could not diagnose.

One Saturday I went to eat Saturday breakfast with her. Sneaking up behind her I squeezed her. She said, “You broke my ribs.” I told her that I did squeeze that hard. Doctors were shocked when they x-rayed her. I had collapsed her right rib cage. Cancer had swept through her body ravishing her rib cages, number four vertebrae, esophagus, right arm between elbow and shoulder. And multiple other parts of her body. Stage four melanoma had riddled her precious body. 

Mom had gone with me to hear me preach in September 1986 just before I “bear hugged” her. When they operated on her right rib cage, they said she had six months to a year to live. She had some issues around Thanksgiving and doctors said she had three to six months to live. At Christmas doctors said she had days.

When mom was bedridden, my sister was a trooper and wonderful taking care of her. My sister spent the week with her while my two brothers and I spent the weekend from Friday evening until Monday morning. Mom spent most of time in a hospital bed in my brothers and my old bedroom.

One Saturday morning I was aggravating momma and told her to get out of bed and “fix” me some biscuits. Hers were the best. Grabbing the triangular bar above he bed she struggled tiring to sit up. She had lost strength on her right arm. It broke my heart to see her try her best and she could not.

She looked in the eye and said, “Bobby I know when you are lying. Tell me how much time I have.” With tears swelling in my eyes I said, “Days.” She said, “I thought so.” She then asked, “Why us?” I asked, “Why not us. If you could give your cancer to someone, who would you give it.” She said, “I wouldn’t give this curse to anyone.” I said, “God allowed you to have it because He knows you.”

For the next few moments momma said that the only thing she wanted in life was to have a Christian family. God blessed me with a pastor son, two deacon sons, and a daughter Sunday School teacher. I am ready to go.

Mom went to be with the Lord on January 28, 1987.

 

Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. I Corinthians 16:13 KJV

 

Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong. II Corinthians 12:10 KJV

 

"Thanks Dr. Miller"

When I originally wrote this article, I wrote with sadness.  The person most responsible for my writing, Dr. Calvin Miller, passed away a couple of weeks prior.

I received an e-mail from Dr. Timothy George of Beeson Divinity School a few days prior to Dr. Miller’s death asking me to pray for Dr. Miller having quadruple by-pass surgery.  He was in intensive care.  I sent Dr. Miller a get well note.  The next e-mail stated that he was recovering and requested that he have no visitors.

When I received a third e-mail, I had this sick gut feeling as I opened it.  My intuition was correct.  Dr. Miller passed away while in intensive care.

Baptists lost a great Theologian, a great orator, a great writer, and a dozen other talents of his genius.  Sharon asked him if he was first in line when God handed out gifts.  The man could paint, play the piano, and write poetry.  His home looked like a botanical garden.  When asked about it, he said he designed it and did all the work except for running the heavy equipment.

Baptists lost a great leader, but I lost a friend and mentor.  One evening at a cookout at his home in Trussville, he shared with his students some qualities that each of us possessed and encouraged us to extend those gifts and gain some new ones along the way.

It was an amazing evening with Dr. Miller.  I could not believe that he had invited me to his home.  I do not remember the first time I heard of Dr. Miller, but I remember reading one of his many books.  He also had an article in the SBC Life magazine.   I remember telling an SBC Life representative that fifty percent of the reason I read the magazine was Dr. Miller’s article.  The other fifty percent was Dr. Charles Lowry’s article.  Both do not write any longer and I do not have any reason to read it.

I do not remember the first time I met Dr. Miller in person, but it was a thrill to meet him.  It was a greater thrill to have studied under his teaching.  He taught me so much about the mechanics of preaching and all the spiritual preparation that the art of preaching involves.

In preaching class, he told me that I had great movement in the pulpit.  He said that movement should be an important element of preaching and that God had gifted me with movement.  He said that I had the gift of preaching.  That night at the cookout at his home he surprised me with another statement.

While sitting around a fire, he said Bobby, you are a good writer.  I was shocked.  I struggle with writing.  One reason is I am a terrible speller with a very limited vocabulary.  I sat there in amazement because of the ten students around the fire; I felt the least of writers.  That night he said that I should do more writing.

One of the biggest things I have ever written was my dissertation for my doctorate.  I waited two years after the class work to do the dissertation.  I blocked off two weeks after doing my project to write it.  I had two English teachers, one from the University of Alabama and one from Greensboro High School, from my church in Gallion to grade it before I turn it in to my doctoral committee at Beeson.  My committee was Dr. Robert Smith, chair, Dr. Louis Drummond, and Dr. Calvin Miller.  The English teachers made a few suggestions but found the dissertation to be without error and wanted to know if I wrote it by myself.  I get that response quite often.

When it came time to face my doctoral committee for what is called “Orals” or oral examination, I waited in a cold sweat outside the examination chamber which felt like a torture chamber.  When Dr. Drummond saw me, he said that Dr. Miller had a “bone to pick with me.”  Now I was scared.  I will never forget what Dr. Miller did.  As he approached me, he grabbed me by the lapels on my suit and pulled me toward him.

He said, “Bobby, if that is not the best dissertation that I have ever read, it is the second best that I have ever read.”  I stood there in amazement.  Suddenly, I experienced calmness for the orals.

During the orals, the committee talked of what a great dissertation it was.  I had heard of how committees would chew up the dissertations and the students making them rewrite and resubmit them.  Dr. Drummond said excellent work.  Dr. Smith said it was good, but he wanted one more paragraph on the Holy Spirit knowing that Baptists were a little intimidated by the Holy Spirit.  Dr. Miller was the only one, including the two English teachers, and two computer programs with spelling and grammar checks that found a mistake.  I used “we” instead of “were” in one sentence.  It read okay, but Dr. Miller knew it was the wrong word.

Dr. Miller did say that the dissertation was the most doctrinal and theological sound that he ever read.  I have sticky notes on the original dissertation were Dr. Miller placed them.

I wondered how I could convince Dr. Miller to come speak for me.  One day he called me.  He said,” Bobby, you know that you are the only Beeson graduate to be a Director of Missions?”  I said, “No sir.”  He said I would like to come speak to your pastors and their wives.  He came and I was thrilled.

The last time I spoke with him, he told me to continue to write and that he enjoyed my two books.

Thanks for the encouragement Dr. Miller.  Most of all, thanks Dr. Miller for being a mentor and friend.