Stephen
Terry, Director
Developing a Winning Attitude
Commentary
for the August 29, 2020 Sabbath School Lesson
"You, however, know
all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose, faith, patience, love,
endurance, persecutions, sufferings, what
kinds of things happened to me in Antioch, Iconium and Lystra, the persecutions
I endured. Yet the Lord rescued me from all of them. In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly
life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evildoers and impostors will go
from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. But as for you, continue in
what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from
whom you learned it, and how from
infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for
salvation through faith in Christ Jesus." 2 Timothy 3:10-15, NIV
In the mid-1970s, I was
in the Army, stationed in Alaska. I spent two years there and had some wonderful
experiences. The Fairbanks church was full of wonderful people that I dearly
miss as we have gone our various ways. Some have gone on to rest in peace,
waiting for the return of Jesus. In Fairbanks, I married my first wife, Shirley
Schroader, on New Year's Eve, 1974 during outdoor temperatures that went as low
as 50 degrees below zero. The church was warm, but when we went to leave, the
tires on our car were frozen flat on one side, so the car went thump, thump,
thump until friction warmed them enough so they could become round again. That marriage
lasted until she died 30 years later from chronic illness. That is a story for
another time.
I also attended jump school while I was there to become an airborne medic. The
picture of me with this commentary was taken by a fellow paratrooper after we parachuted
from planes in a midwinter drop, to be followed by a 25-mile hike. It was cold
and exhausting, but what a great memory. Part of our readiness training also
included daily trips cross country skiing over two trails, one five miles long
and the other ten miles long. In the winter, the days were noticeably shorter,
so those trips would usually be at night. The full moon's reflection sparkling
in the ice crystals clinging to the Arctic Pines along the trails made the
entire trip seem like a fairy tale fantasy. An added joy was when the
occasional Arctic Fox would cross our path. They are beautiful creatures that
manage to eke out a living capturing rodents burrowing under the snow.
I had invited Christ
into my life as a teenager, and I was so filled with joy at the experience that
I shared that with everyone who knew me. Even in Alaska this was true. God had
been behind several miracles in my life. It would be impossible to recount them
all in this little commentary, but I will share one of the biggest that happened
while I was in Alaska. As a result of my sharing of my faith, some wanted to know
more and eventually wanted to join the church. They wanted a relationship with
the God who had spoken into my life. But in making those decisions, a few found
that the choice would not be an easy one. Everywhere else I had been stationed,
there was little problem, but Alaska presented unique challenges. Since Seventh-day
Adventists observe the biblical Sabbath from sundown
Friday to sundown Saturday, the shorter winter days presented problems. The
duty day ended after sundown on Friday, not before. This had not been a problem
for me as God had granted me a company commander who allowed me a special
dispensation to observe the Sabbath. The military regulations allowed him to do
this. But once individuals from other units began to ask for similar accommodation,
it set off a firestorm.
At this point, some added
background is necessary. We had recently received a new battalion commander who
felt that religion weakened his fighting force. He therefore set up a "goon
squad" of burly sergeants in the S-4 (Supply) section of the battalion to deal
with religious individuals in the battalion. The first person to fall victim to
their assaults was a private who was Holiness Pentecostal. His affront was that
he believed it was indecent to unbutton the top button of his uniform as was
standard practice. He strangely "fell down the stairs" a few times, and then
disappeared. I knew him but was unable to find out anything about where he
went. The next person they targeted was a Specialist E-4, a Jehovah's Witness.
They convinced him to publicly renounce his faith. Then they began to target
me.
I was a Specialist E-5, and I scored highly for promotion to Staff Sergeant
E-6. But when I went before the promotion board, every single member of the
board was a sergeant from the S-4 "goon squad." They told me that since I was a
Seventh-day Adventist, they would deny my promotion no matter what, trying to
get me to renounce my faith like they did with the last guy. However, my faith meant
more to me than becoming Staff Sergeant, so I refused. Then the real
persecution began. They did their research well. They discovered that
Adventists do not eat pork, so bacon started showing up in everything they
could put it in in the battalion mess hall. As a result, I petitioned my company
commander for separate rations which would allow me to buy and prepare my own
food in my room. Since he was sympathetic to my faith, even attending my
wedding and rejoicing with me, he willingly approved the request. This thwarted
their efforts to a degree until they realized that since I was a field medic
they could do this to the food when I was out on field exercises with the airborne
company I supported medically. At first this happened on short trips which did
not prove a major problem and allowed me advance notice of their intent. I began
to fill my pack with freeze dried food and to study the edible native plants.
This last change earned me the title of "Bugs Bunny" with the company. We joked
about it, but the battalion commander's intent was serious and potentially
deadly.
Eventually we left on
a summer exercise that was too long for me to be able to carry enough food to
sustain myself. I subsisted on white bread, milk, and what plants I could
forage. This went on until I grew weak enough that I had difficulty keeping up with
the company from weakness and exhaustion. Eventually, we got word that we would
be bivouacking in the middle of a glacier. I knew I would not be able to forage
for edible plants on the ice. But there appeared to be no options for me. I
prayed. As we were slowly descending the slope to the glacier, I was hit in the
head with a boulder from above. I nearly went unconscious and was evacuated to the
field aid station where they told me it was nothing and sent me back to the glacier.
Today, 50 years later, I still have a slight divot in my skull from the impact
of the boulder. I cannot prove nefarious intent behind the boulder, but I also
have a hard time believing it was just a coincidence in view of later events.
When I returned, the
company was doing rappelling exercises down into a deep, icy crevasse. They invited
me to join in, something I usually did because I loved rappelling, but after the
boulder incident, I passed, especially considering my weakened state. When it
came time for the evening meal, bacon was again in everything. I had some bread
and milk instead, but they limited me on that, telling me that they did not
bring enough for anyone to have more than one of each. I sat down on a boulder
imbedded in the ice and ate and prayed. I could see about a quarter mile
distant, the greenery at the edge of the glacier. Since it was early summer, I
knew I could find more calories there. The entire day had been overcast. The
sun had not broken through at all. I was not sure what to do, so I prayed that
if God wanted me to walk to the edge of the glacier to forage to let me see the
sun. At that exact moment, the clouds parted, and the sun shown down on me on
that boulder for about an entire minute. Then the clouds closed back up and
obscured the sun again. I felt I had no choice but to walk to the edge of the
glacier since God had made it so clear. They must have been watching me, because
I had only gone about 30 feet when a helicopter took off from the base and
landed by my path. A captain got out and ordered me back to base. I told him I
was just going to forage for some food. He angrily got back in the helicopter
and flew the short hop back. Eventually several of my friends from the airborne
company came and begged me to return. The captain had threatened them with harsh
punishment if they did not bring me back. Out of consideration for their well-being,
I went with them. Once we returned, the captain placed me under armed guard in
the helicopter and flew with me to the S-4 supply camp. Seeing the "goon squad"
prepared for my arrival, I told the captain I was aware of what they had done
in the past to others and that he would be held responsible. He called the head
sergeant over and told them not to touch me. As ordered, I chopped a little
wood for the sergeants while waiting for what was to happen next. Eventually a
lieutenant wearing a side arm arrived to take me into custody. The lieutenant
was a friend and told me he was sympathetic. When we arrived back at Fort Wainwright,
he turned me loose to go home. When I arrived home, I discovered my wife and
the youth of the church were gathered, praying for me, sensing that something
was wrong. Seeing I had gotten skinnier, we went to the bathroom scale and
discovered that over the short period of the past week, I had lost a
significant amount of weight. But God intervened. God speaks into the lives of
those who seek his presence, and we were all seeking him during that
challenging time.
A week later when the
entire battalion had returned, I was summoned for a field grade article fifteen
punishment board. At the board, the true reason behind what was happening came
out. The battalion commander reduced me in rank one level, and stated that if I
ever observed the Sabbath again, I would be taken in chains to Leavenworth,
Kansas, the military prison, to serve out a sentence there. I felt like Joseph
before Potiphar, threatened with a terrible fate because I chose to be faithful
to God. However, this is not ancient Egypt, and I had other options.
I contacted the
Department of the Army by phone in Washington, DC. A colonel there took the
time to listen to my story. I explained that I was an airborne medic and
Vietnam veteran with an exemplary record, and I only wanted to serve my country,
but now that the war was over my country seemed no longer interested in that
service. I asked him what I should do? He suggested reassignment to a different
unit. My company commander had already tried that, and the battalion commander
denied it. Then he suggested an honorable discharge from the Army as a conscientious
objector. My company commander had also tried that, but battalion tore up the paperwork
when it arrived. Then angered by that, he said to send it up again with the Department
of the Army seal on it, and if they destroy it again, they will go to prison.
My company commander did as instructed.
Once that paperwork
hit battalion headquarters, it was like a bomb went off. Immediately, the
battalion commander called the medical platoon lieutenant and ordered him to instruct me
to provide medical support for the battalion artillery battery which was headed
150 miles out into the tundra for an exercise. This was alarming for several reasons.
First, battalion never requested medics by name. Second, I was the medic for
the airborne company not the artillery. Third, that far out into the Alaskan wilderness,
"accidents" had been known to happen. And fourth, I was given no time to get
supplies for the trip. However, God had other plans.
As I was on the tarmac,
helping the artillery men push the heavy howitzers onto the Chinook helicopters,
my lieutenant came running across the pavement with an aide bag. I thought he
was bringing me additional medical supplies. When he
got to me, he threw the aid bag at an artilleryman and said you get to be your
own medics on this trip, and he turned to me and said that the Department of
the Army had given the battalion 24 hours to get me honorably discharged from
the Army, and led me back home to pack and begin processing for discharge. As I
left the artillery unit, who all knew, as did the rest of the battalion, what
was going on, I said, "See how God cares for those who trust in him?" As a
result of my experience, several men in the battalion gave their hearts to God.
Some have become close friends. Several others through the years, not
associated with the events, have also given their hearts to God when they have
heard my story, which was really a story to God's glory, not mine. I have only
scratched the surface of what took place in Alaska and how God spoke into my
life several times, but I am filled with joy if anything I went through led
others to seek salvation in Christ. I hope to see them all one day.
The reason I shared this
story is to illustrate that a winning attitude is not based on winning every
contest that presents itself to us. It is based on humbly submitting ourselves
to be used according to God's will. We may make plans on how we expect life to
go, but if we let God direct, even if it prevents the fulfillment of personal desires,
we will find that what he speaks into our life will be glorious beyond what we
would have had if we had doggedly pursued our own agenda for happiness. God,
who created us, knows us so much better than we know ourselves, and he knows
the purpose behind our creation. A desire to walk in that purpose according to his
will is the true winning attitude.
