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

 

Pivotal Moments

You and I measure time by events.  The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us of that in Chapter three.  We have those pivotal moments that mark our living in births, deaths, holidays, special events, and tragedies.

Growing up daddy would say on the day you were born icicles were hanging off the house a foot long and we buried your momma’s Grandmoe Crumpton the day before you were born.

One of those pivotal moments came in October 1986.  Momma heard that I would be preaching at the Maplesville Baptist Church.

Mom had worked in the veneer mill in Maplesville thirty-five years earlier.  She wanted to go with me in hope of renewing some old acquaintances.  I hoped that she wanted to hear me preach, but she wanted to meet old friends.

It was rare for mom and dad did not get to hear me preach.  Both died within the first three years of my ministry.  I think the only sermon my dad heard me preach as a pastor was a Father’s Day message at my first church.  Mom heard a few more, but not many.

The trip to Maplesville was fun.  I spent time with mom.  She met a few old friends and for mom, she heard me for the last time.  In my ministry, my sermon has been the last message people heard before they died.  That is an awesome responsibility when standing behind the Sacred Desk.  My preaching what may be the last word from God a person hears.

The following week, I went to see momma on Saturday morning.  She was standing at the place she stood most, behind the kitchen sink washing dishes.  She was looking out the window as I sneaked up behind her.  Momma did a lot of humming and singing while doing dishes and this morning was no different.

I grabbed her from behind, gave her a big bear hug, lifted her from her feet, and turned round and round with her.  When I put her down, she said, “You broke my rib.”  I said, “Momma I did not squeeze you hard enough to break a rib.”

Momma worked hard her whole life and she and dad never had many worldly possessions.  For several years, mom suffered severe pain, but the doctors could never find anything that may have caused the pain.  Mom hurt so bad that she would spend a couple hours after work resting at my sister’s house before taking the thirty-minute drive home.  My sister lived a couple miles from where momma worked.

So, when I hurt mom, I just added to the pain.  After two or three days following my big squeeze, mom went to the doctor.  When Dr. Funderburk, family friend and former parishioner of mine, read the x-ray, he sent mom to a specialist.

A few years earlier mom had a stroke but recovered.  She rehabbed herself.  Later the doctors diagnosed melanoma cancer on her back.  She had successful surgery.  But the pain continued.

I shall never forget the moment when the doctor told me, I was with her when she had surgery following the hug that broke the rib.  The surgeon said, “Your mom is eaten up with cancer.”  He said the rib was not broken, but I collapsed her rib cage on the left, the good one, with the hug.  The other side is completely eaten away.  That was the good news.  The bad news was that cancer riddled her body.  The surgeon said, “Your mom has six months to a year to live.”  That was around Halloween.

Mom had a bad spell around Thanksgiving.  The doctor said, “Your mom has three to six months to live.” Mom was in the hospital at Christmas.  It would our last Christmas with her.  The doctors said, “Your mom has days to live.”

My sister, brothers, and I spent time with mom.  My sister was marvelous staying the week, while my brothers and I did weekends.  On one of my watches, mom was struggling, always the fighter.  Seeing she needed some encouragement, I said, “Come on old woman, get up, and fix me some biscuits.”  I was not ugly or disrespectful, that was the way mom and I picked on each other.  She loved to fix me biscuits and I loved aggravating her. She tried to get off the bed using her good arm; cancer destroyed her right arm, esophagus, number four disk, thigh, and neck among other parts of her diseased body.  After a gallant effort, she fell back in the bed, looked me dead in the eyes, and asked me, “Am I going to make it?  Don’t lie to me.  I know when you lie.  I can see it in your eyes.”

Mom was obvious to how short her time was.  I told what the doctors told me.  I said, “You have days.”  She said, “I thought so.”

She said, “God has blessed me.  He gave me what I wanted.  Christian kids.  I have a preacher, two deacons, and a Sunday School teacher. I never wanted to be rich, famous, or have a lot of stuff.  All I ever wanted in life was Christian children.  God gave them to me.”

Pivotal events came at Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the start of a New Year.  Twenty-seven days into the New Year momma died.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2a KJV)

 

Momma Showed Me

Mamma it has been a long, long time

Momma I miss your songs and rhyme

 

You left us so young and in your prime

Momma precious mother of mine

 

Momma you showed me Jesus was the way

Momma you taught me to read the Bible and pray

 

You showed me how to work and how to play

Momma your faith showed there is coming a better day

 

Momma you taught life was not about things

Momma you showed me it was not riches or golden rings

 

You proved that life was about home and a song to sing

Momma I miss your hugging and kissing

 

Momma you showed how to never give up and live

Momma you taught me to share and give

 

You trained me how to be innovative

Momma thank you for helping me be creative

 

Momma you wiped away my tears when I would cry

Momma you showed me how to suffer and die

 

You thought of others until you told me goodbye

Momma I know I will see by and by

Momma would be ninety today,  She died form melanoma cancer at age 55 in January 1987