As far as I know I was born a normal baby, but at seven months I had a disease which the doctor called brain fever.   After three days of fever too high to measure and three days of violent convulsions, I was nothing more than a small lump of clay.   The doctor was highly provoked at my mother for praying that I would live.    He said she should beg God to take me instead, for I would never do anything but lie and look at the ceiling.   He said I would be an idiot.

     My father accepted the doctor's opinion and continued to think of me as an idiot until I was in college.   He said the teachers gave me good grades because they were sorry for me.   But my mother watched and prayed.   Although she never openly crossed my father, I always felt her silent encouragement in my determination to overcome my handicap and live a normal life.   My mother was a miracle.

     Truly I did just sit or crawl around in total silence for six years.   In my seventh year two little sisters taught me to walk by holding a broomstick between them with me grasping the middle with my one good hand.   My family was a singing, happy group, so no wonder my mother heard me one day singing, "Down at The Cross" at the top of my voice.    No one knows how long I had been singing with the other children without making a sound anywhere else.

     My father did not approve of education for girls and especially not for a crippled girl, but compulsory education forced him to let me start to school.   By that time it was apparent that the left side of my body was normal, but the right side was spastic.   So I started off to school, my father protesting strongly that I would be a constant source of embarrassment to his normal children.   On my first day of school the teacher discovered that I could read, although I didn't know that is what you called it, and I have never known when or how I learned to read.

     With no encouragement from home and sometimes none from the school, I managed to graduate from High School at twenty. Our girls always dropped out of school as soon as the compulsory age limit had been reached, and so did I, but when I dropped out for a time something unusual would occur, and I would go back for a time.

     I left High School with a two year teacher's certificate, and in the fall of 1929, in a little one room school, I found what God wanted me to do with my life.    Since then I have never been far from working with children, teaching them, taking care of them as a nursemaid or tutoring them as I do now.

     I went through college piecemeal during the depression years.   I taught night school, did house keeping or nursemaid work until I would have money enough to go back to school.   Many times during those eight years it seemed the Lord was my only Friend.   From time to time He sent friends who reached out helping hands.   Sometimes they were as poor as I was, but we helped each other.   And I promised the Lord that I would always use my education to help others.

     I did not attend the graduation exercises nor any of the other functions that go with graduation because I could not afford the rental fee for the cap and gown.    I was not granted the customary permanent teacher's certificate given with a Bachelor of Arts in Education because I was a cripple, so I would have to have my certificate renewed every two years.    In my twenty-seven years of teaching I never once got a job for which I applied, always because I was crippled.   In all the jobs I did receive, they came and asked me.

     The year I graduated from college another miracle was about to happen.   I was twenty-seven years old, and men had always passed me as if I were a bush or a telephone pole.   My father told me, even as a girl, that no man in his right mind would look at me.   So, while he groomed his other eight girls for marriage, he was grooming this one for austere spinsterhood.

     But again God intervened, and I met my husband.   We were the same age.   His young wife had died two years earlier, so he was lonely as I was.    He was also crippled.   His left foot had been crushed in an accident in his late teens.   We laughingly say that he has a good right foot, and I have a good left one, so together we have a good pair of feet.   We were married and lived through good times and bad, but always in harmony for forty-three years.

     When we had been married nearly five years we started proceedings for adopting a child, then came the greatest miracle of all.   We had a little boy of our own amid storms of protest and dire predictions from his family and mine.   And wonder of wonders, our little boy was as normal as blueberry pie.   Four years later he had a little brother, and those two little boys have been a source of wonder and enjoyment to their parents ever since.

     When little Joe started to school, I went back to teaching to augment my husband's salary.   With the full cooperation of my husband and boys and on borrowed money I went back to school to reinstate my teacher's certificate and get a Master's degree, and another year for a Special Education certificate.

     The last thirteen years of my public school teaching I taught housebound children, who spend all their lives in iron lungs, wheel chairs or in constant traction in bed.    It has been twelve years since I saw them last, but I can still see their loving little faces; and I am still filled with wonder and gratitude that I could have had the privilege of teaching these little people and that God always gave me the knowledge and techniques to reach each child with such totally different needs from any of the other children in my group.   After retiring from public school teaching I taught in a Christian school for five more years.   Then I came to this small Missouri town planning to lay my books and my pencil away.   But here I sit, trying to finish this testimony before 3:30 when the children will start coming to my house for help with their school work, and will be coming until 7:30 this evening.

     On Thanksgiving Day, 1975, while cleaning up after a happy gathering with children and grandchildren, I fell and shattered my right elbow.   Because the arm was spastic they couldn't give me an artificial joint, or in any way put the upper and lower arm back together.   They couldn't even cast it while it healed.

     That arm had always been a problem, thrashing around and in the way, and I always had to spend a lot of time babysitting it at the expense of my good arm.   Now those muscles, strong as iron bands, had lost even the little control I had had before the break.

     I had tried many times during my twenties to get a doctor who would remove the arm.   No one would touch it.   A year after the break my doctor put me in the hospital to amputate it, but the pre-op tests all showed me to be diabetic, so again I went home.

     God was preparing a blessing, which I had longed for since I was a child, when I did not have the legal right to look for a doctor who would remove a painful burden.   He was at that moment preparing a team of three wonderful doctors who were not afraid to take the chance and who would soon remove it from me.   Even they were not prepared for the results of the operation.    A sixty-nine year old diabetic, I never took a pain pill, or a sleeping pill.   The operation healed like magic leaving a neat, thin scar across the arm pit.

     When I was able to be up and around again there were more surprises for the doctors and for me.   I could walk so much better it was hard for me to believe it.    My work went so much better and faster.

     O, yes, there are still things I cannot do, as there always has been.   But God has assigned me the things I can do.   I have such a full and happy life with my home to keep, children to teach, the ladies Sunday School class at church to teach, secretary of the Training Union, that I never wish to do the things I cannot do.   There isn't time for wishing.

     When I think of all the blessings God has given me, could I call my testimony anything but, "I Believe In Miracles!"?

     I am writing this letter in hopes it will make you want to help start a Baptist Church in St. George Utah.

     The first thing I want you to know is that yes, Mormonism is still big in Utah but the people that have been duped into this cult need to be saved just like anyone else.

     Secondly, that the Mormons are not the overwhelming majority that they once were in Utah. The fact is that on the times that I have knocked on doors there presenting the gospel, I have met more non-Mormons than I have Mormons.

     Thirdly, we need your help! We are starting a gospel situation effort and we need people, some of God's people, to help us put Bibles, tracts, Trail of Blood and other literature in the hands of thousands of people in the next five weeks.   We need preachers to preach in the out-side revival meeting Oct. 4-9. We need singers to sing and friendly people to greet visitors and future Baptists that will come for the first time.

     Fourthly, if you can't come in person send someone in your stead. We need Christians on the ground in St. George! The Lone Ranger philosophy of church planting is not a Bible principle.   God sent teams out to do the work of evangelism and we are asking for fellowship in the work of the gospel in Utah. Please come over to Utah and help us.

     Lastly, if you can help with even the smallest amount of financial support I know that God will bless it to the salvation of souls in Southern Utah.   We are praying for the funds to pay the rent on a building to hold church services in after our out-side revival meeting.   The building we have picked out is 600.00 per month; our prayer is to have commitments from the Lord's people for one year's rent so that Bro. Mike and the new work in St. George will not have to worry about a church building to call home.   I don't know too many churches that can write a check for $7200.00 but I know too that "little is much when God is in it" and that if The Lord's Churches all gave just a "little", with prayer, this need will be more than met.

     Thank you for taking the time to read this appeal for help in The Lord's work, now please take time to pray for this great work in Utah.   I might ask that you pray for Bro. Faulkner that God would strengthen his hands, heart and mind for this great work and that he will grant the wisdom to lead out in this endeavor.

     Greetings in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.   I have two things to address in this letter and both are good news.

     First we will be having our revival this year on Sept. 18-25 6:30 PM (Friday to a Friday), except Sunday when we will be having our regular service times.   Brother Dan Sheffield is our speaker and I know you will be blessed by the preaching of the Word of God and the work of the Spirit in our lives.   Please make a point to pray for the outreach of lost souls during this meeting and if you can please come and enjoy the preaching of the Word yourself.

     The second item is that on Friday Sept. 25th the last day of the meeting we will be ordaining Brother Joseph Blalock into the gospel ministry.   The service will be the last day of the meeting and will begin at 6:30 PM and there will be a dinner at 5:00 PM before the service.   Please come and enjoy this service as well as the ordained members of the church please come and help us ordain this man into God’s service.

     Brother Joe has been a faithful and tireless worker in the service of the Lord and has answered the call to start a mission work in Skamakawa Wash.   Brother Joe is already ordained as a deacon in the service of the Lord and now will be ordained as a preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ.   We have great confidence in the Lord and the work He has separated Brother Joe for and look forward to His fruit in the planting of a church in this community.   Please come and encourage this brother in the service of the Lord.   And enjoy the fellowship of God’s people.

     Titus 1:7-9 For a bishop must be blameless, as the steward of God; not self willed, not soon angry, not given to wine, no striker, not given to filthy lucre;   But a lover of hospitality, a lover of good men, sober, just, holy, temperate; Holding fast the faithful word as he hath been taught, that he may be able by sound doctrine both to exhort and to convince the gainsayers.

     May God bless you each and if you need to contact anybody concerning this please email me at clydesjones@msn.com.   Or call me at 503-358-2505. Our location is 10722 E Burnside St. Portland, OR.   From I205 take the Glisan exit and proceed East to 108th Ave and turn South to the Light.   Enter the parking lot on 108th Ave.

Clyde Jones Pastor of the Bible missionary Baptist Church of Portland, OR.

Letters To The Editor

     Still there have been no letters to the editor.   Folks if you want to respond to something you have read in "Baptist Landmarks" please E-Mail your response to edit@BaptistLandmarks.org   Your response will be printed here.

     I would like to have a cartoon in each issue if possible.   If there is someone reading this paper who can draw cartoons that will cause us to laugh at the foolish things we sometimes do and cause us to think of how we could better serve our Savior, please E-Mail me and let me know.

     Our house was full of children.
         No hour was ever dull.
     If everything grew quiet
         And there should be a lull,
     Our mother leaned back in her chair,
         Her sigh was full and deep.
     A peaceful smile lit up her face;
         Her family was asleep.

Peggy Opal Snyder

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