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| ISBN-13: | 9781468544336 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 03/06/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 600 KB |
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Problems? No, Opportunities!
By Elmer Hembree
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Elmer HembreeAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-4435-0
Chapter One
December 1939 was one of those times in my life where the problem became an opportunity for future blessings in my life. I'd had a slight cold for a few days; nothing my parents or I were concerned about. I went to school that day with a small cough, but by afternoon my cough had grown so much that my throat had started to swell and I could hardly catch my breath.The school nurse contacted my parents and they were there within thirty minutes to take me home. Being only seven years old I had no idea how serious my cough was. When we arrived home, my mother brought out the old trusted bottle of Vick's Vapor Rub and began rubbing it over my neck and chest. Next she got the sulfur and molasses and attempted to give me a spoon full, but I immediately spit it out and began to gasp for breath more frequently than I had up to this point. My father and mother began to pray and my father finally called the doctor and he said he would be at the house within the hour. During the next hour I would lose my breath for periods of time and I would become blue in the face because of my not being able to breathe.
The doctor arrived and when he walked into the house he looked at me and informed my father I had Diphtheria and instructed him to immediately take me to the hospital. The hospital was only ten minutes away, but it could have been ten hours away as far as I was concerned. I thought at times I would never make it to the hospital when I couldn't breathe.
Upon arrival at the hospital I was taken to the emergency room where the doctor and the nurse named Marie began working over me.
I don't remember much of what happened to me during the next five days but from what my father and mother told me, there were days when I was near death. I can remember shot after shot was given to me in both arms to where it became so painful they started giving me shots in my hips. When the nurse would come into the room I would cry because I knew it was for another shot. The nurse, my father and mother, and on occasions two other nurses would have to hold me down so they could give me a shot.
The fever was so high that I would come in and out of consciousness not knowing if I would live or die. I could hear my father and mother praying to God that my life would be spared. I remember one day I awakened to see the doctor, nurse, my father and mother all looking at me as if I was about to take my last breath. The doctor told my father and mother that it would be a miracle if I ever left the hospital alive.
I remember seeing tears rolling down my parent's faces. Mary, the nurse, began to cry and I slipped back into unconsciousness not knowing if I would ever be able to live through the night. I don't know what made it so bad, but night time was when I had the hardest time breathing. I wasn't able to hold my head up on my own, I wasn't able to drink, and I was losing dangerous amounts of fluids. I started losing weight rapidly because of my inability to eat or drink. During my stay in the hospital, I lost almost forty pounds. On the seventh day, the doctor told my parents that if I survived the next twenty-four hours it would be a miracle. The doctor had done everything he could for me and it was now up to God.
The nurse told my parents to start making funeral arrangements for me, as I was not expected to make it through the night. You can imagine what ran through my parent's minds at this time. Back in those days they did not have the medical advances that we do today. Despite my odds to survive, when the nurse told my parents this, my dad looked at her and told her that I was going to live because God is a healer.
Mary had scheduled her time to be my personal nurse. She spent many of her working hours and personal hours taking care of me. She was a devout Christian and came to the church where my father preached when she was not on duty.
Early the next morning I woke up and started talking. My mother was not able to understand what I was trying to tell her, so she rang for the nurse because she was sure I was dying.
Mary came in and started taking my vitals. She smiled at my mother and said, "I think he is going to make it." My mother asked her what I was saying and she laughed and told her that I was trying to tell her that I was hungry and wanted something to eat. My nurse asked me what I wanted and I told her a hamburger.
Mary left and when she came back with my hamburger the doctor and my father had arrived. The doctor was examining me and telling my parents that I was going to be okay.
A few days later was my eight birthday and I was still in the hospital, but I was strong enough to sit up and talk with people. I remember Mary bringing me hamburgers every day.
It wasn't much longer that I was finally released and able to finish my recovery at home. God had healed me from one of the most deadly diseases of that time.
Problem? No! This was one of those opportunities where my parents chose to trust God for healing their son.
I can remember going to church and my father telling the congregation how sick I was and that it was a miracle from God that I survived. He gave thanks to our Father for answering the prayers of everyone who had been praying for me. What a wonderful feeling it was to breathe again.
God changes those problems into opportunities if we only place our faith and trust in Him. In the Chinese Alphabet, the symbol for "crisis" is a combination of two characters, one meaning "danger" and the other "opportunity". You can look at it either way.
The same can be said of problems in the Christian life. When something comes up we have the choice to view it as a problem or an opportunity. As a Christian you can view your problem as purposeful and joyful if you see them from God's perspective. My parents say my sickness was an opportunity and their faith never wavered. Their faith was tested which produced patience.
"Because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:3 (NIV)
"Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him." James 1:12 (NIV)
Chapter Two
It was 1948 and my senior year of high school; little did I know how memorable this year would be. Looking back on that year, it is incredible to see how quickly things can change. The start of the school year was uneventful and filled with classes as usual.Baseball was my life and I was looking forward to this coming season. Our team was ranked very high in the state and the news media and sports authority had given us not only a chance to go to the state championship, but to come out on top. I showed enough talent that the St. Louis Cardinals had shown interest in my joining their team. I had every intention of signing with them once I had finished high school. I could hardly wait for June.
It wasn't until December that my world came crashing down – so I thought, I remember the day my dad told the family we would be moving to another town just after Christmas. My dad was a pastor and another church had offered him a job. Of course this move devastated my dreams and future plans. Being a typical sixteen year old, I informed my parents that this move was not for me and I was mature enough to stay in our current town and take care of myself. I had every intention to stay and graduate with my current high school and take the next step with the Cardinals.
Of course my family did not accept my announcement well and against their wishes I started looking for places to live so I could stay in our town. Finally, I contacted a family friend and they agreed that I could live with them if I worked in the grocery store they owned. Regardless of my motivation and plans to stay there, my parents still would not allow me to stay behind. As kind as my parents were in breaking the news to me, I was still the most disappointed sixteen-year-old in the world. No matter how I was feeling at the time, I realized now that my parents were trying to show and teach me how my father had made a commitment to follow the Lord's direction with his ministry, and regardless of our own plans, God's plan and direction took precedence – because God's plans are always better.
Changing school in the middle of my senior year was one of the hardest things I had ever been asked to do. When we had finished packing up our home and started the journey to the new town, I had never felt so betrayed and cheated.
The transition to my new high school was a disaster in my estimation. I had moved from a town with a population of 201 with a senior class of 13, to a city with 40,000 and a senior class of 600. My new senior class could populate my old town three times! This blew my mind and was too much of a change for me. Making it through the second half of my senior year was a challenge for me. I felt lost in this new school and wanted to give up. My dad saw my struggle and encouraged me to pursue an education with a Bible School after I graduated. His suggestion angered me and I told him that there was no chance I would ever be a preacher like him.
Throughout the remainder of my senior year, I spent more time in the principal's office than in the classroom. I was constantly in and out of trouble. I remember one account when a teacher was so fed up with me that she told me to go to the principal's office and not to come back to the class. After I told the principle what the teacher had said, he laughed and wrote a note, telling me to deliver it to the teacher. The note told the teacher to admit me back into the classroom, but to ignore me. To pay me no attention and that he would be taking care of my grade. From then on, I sat in the back of the classroom and the teacher wouldn't even call my name when she was taking roll.
The following year, my sister Lois had this same teacher. My sister endured a hard time once the teacher figured out her relation to me, but she eventually overcame the stigma I had created and earned a very high grade in the class.
When graduation day came, my parents bought me my very first suit. I graduated high school June 6,1949. It was then that my dad started approaching me again about Bible school. He even took me to Springfield to visit my brother (who was also in Bible school) and take a tour of the school. I felt a lot of pressure to be just like my brother and dad and I resented it.
During the summer I worked at my dad's church and at a local restaurant. I wanted to earn and save as much money as possible so I could leave town.
The baseball deal I had with the Cardinals was not panning out well because of high school I had moved to. I hadn't been able to play in the new school because all of the players had been there the year prior and were more established with the team. However, the Cardinals informed me of a training camp and invited me to attend to see how well I played. I worked at the church and restaurant all summer to save up the money to go to this camp – then my dad enrolled me in Springfield, Missouri's Central Bible Institute for the fall semester.
My dad was ecstatic to have two sons enrolled in Bible College. I was bitter and resentful, but agreed to go anyway in order to satisfy my dad.
Class attendance was not a priority of mine; neither was curfew or any of the other regulations the college held. Needless to say, I had to endure punishment after punishment. What made this particularly difficult was that everyone – even my dad – was made aware of my behavior and consequences.
About halfway through my first year at this school, I met a girl that I was convinced was the love of my life. Adding her to my already rebellious behavior, my attitude and reputation just got worse. I walked around with a chip on my shoulder and quickly let my priorities slip. When the school year ended, she went home to Michigan for the summer and I went home to Joplin, Missouri. The distance was not something I wanted to battle with, so I decided I would leave Missouri and move to Michigan. Keeping true to my rebellious nature. I stole some money out of a preacher's pocket, packed a suitcase, and one morning at 3 a.m. sneaked out of the house to catch a bus.
As I was making my escape, my mother caught me on the front porch. She asked me where I was going. When I told her she asked me if I had stopped loving her. Her questions shook me up so much that I slipped back into the house and quietly unpacked my bags, returning the stolen money as well. To this day I am not certain whether or not my mother told my dad about that night.
My attitude had grown so hateful that it was enough to drive my parents to tears. I was so rebellious and so challenging that they loaded me on a bus and sent me to Michigan to find a job. I had no intention to ever enter the ministry.
In July of 1950, the President of Central Bible Institute sent me a letter informing me that I would not be allowed to return to school because of my behavior. This did not bother me in any way since I had no desire to return.
Buick Motor Company hired me that summer and I started work on their assembly line making $1.90 per hour. I was living in the attic of a friend's home with no bathroom, no heat, and no running water. I froze at night and ate meals from cans. I lived this way for over a year, too proud to ask anyone especially my parents – for help. Eventually, I lost my job at Buick due to a strike and I got a job passing out samples of Cheer detergent. I was barely making enough money to pay my $5.00 monthly rent and buy food. These were not only monetarily tough times, but mentally tough times as well. I found myself looking at all the problems I was facing, quickly developing a "poor me" mentality.
The winter of 1951 was a bad one. I spent freezing nights in the attic wrapped in the one blanket I owned. It was in November that I received my draft notice from Missouri to report to Jefferson Barracks by the 19th of December for immediate induction into the Armed Forces. Due to my financial inability to travel to Missouri, they ordered me to report to Wayne, Michigan no later than January 6, 1952.
By this time I had been laid off and was living on what I was making delivering sample boxes of Cheer detergent door to door in the snow. On December 29, 1951 (my 20th birthday) I was standing on the corner on Main Street in Flint, Michigan when a recruiting Sargent saw me and started talking to me. He asked me if I had time to come in and talk to him about military service and to have some coffee and donuts. I went in and drank coffee and ate his donuts and before I knew it I had enlisted in the United States Air Force. I thought it would be better to go in immediately than wait until January to go into the military. We continued talking and he said I could enlist for four years and I would get three meals a day and a warm place to sleep, and payment as well. Without telling him I had orders to go to Wayne, Michigan for induction into the military I signed the papers. He took me into a room where he administered an aptitude test to determine what career field I would be qualified for. After finishing all of the tests I was sworn in and told to report to Wayne, Michigan January 2, 1952 for shipment to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas for basic training. I walked out of his office a very happy man.
At this time I thought of my dad and all the problems he caused me by not letting me stay in Eminence, Missouri and finish high school. I contributed all these problems to my dad. My bitterness was so deep that I refused to talk to my parents about my enlisting. When all of your attention is on your "problem", it is impossible to think clearly - resulting in making quick decisions.
"Then Jesus said. "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:28-29, NLT.
Chapter Three
Arriving in Wayne, Michigan was an experience of its own. I was herded onto a Troop Train that was headed for San Antonio, Texas with stops in Cincinnati and St. Louis. The journey took six days and we were not allowed to get off of the train for any reason. After being on a train with no shower for six days, we arrived in San Antonio looking a little worse for the wear.Upon our arrival, an Air Force Training Instructor loaded us on a bus and transported us to Lackland Air Force Base. We were immediately directed to the Chow Hall where we were given a hot meal and then to the barracks where we would be living for the next six weeks.
When we first went into the barracks, our instructor showed us how to properly make up our bunks. The process he taught us was to be the standard each day and expected until he told us otherwise. After his demonstration he told us to make up our own bunks. After about ten tries, he told me mine was acceptable and I should show other trainees how to make the bunk properly. It wasn't until after midnight that everyone passed inspection and we were able to shower and get to bed.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Problems? No, Opportunities! by Elmer Hembree Copyright © 2012 by Elmer Hembree. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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