Volume 26 June, 1985 Number 6

ABOUT THIS SPECIAL EDITION

As most of readers know by now, Barbara C. Adams

beloved wife of the editor of SEARCHING THE

SCRIPTURES, died on Sunday, March 31 and was laid to

rest on April 2. She was known and loved by many people

throughout this country and by many in several other

countries. She was the business manager of this paper and

the rock on which its editor leaned in all ofhis life and work.

We hope this edition will not only pay fitting tribute to

her but also to that host of godly women without whom

much work in thekingdomof God wouldneverbedone.

The editor and family deeply appreciate the many

expressions of sympathy which have come in great volume.

While it is impossible to personally acknowledge all of

these, we want everyone to know how much your love and

concern has helped us.

* * * * *** * * *

ROY E. COGDILL IS DEAD

It is with much sadness that we report the death of ourfriend and brother Roy E. Cogdill of Katy, Texas. He was

78. The power and influence of his life were great. His writings have been translated into other languages and wcontinue to bless all who read them for years to com Funeral services were conducted Wednesday, May 15 atthe Frye Road building in Katy, Texas where he was amember the last few years. Harold Fite, James Yates andJames W. Adams conducted services before a largeaudience. We will have more to say about the influence ofthe life of Roy E. Cogdill in another issue.

• ** * * * * * * *

Searching The Scriptures

Volume26 JUNE1985 NUMBER6

Published Monthly at BROOKS, KENTUCKY

Second Class Postage Paid at Brooks, Kentuckyand at an Additional Mailing Office USPS—487—440

CONNIE W. ADAMS, Editor

Office of Publication52 Yearling Drive Brooks, Kentucky 40109Phone (502) 957-2257

SUBSCRIPTION RATES

$9 per year in advance

Club rate:

$7. 50 per year for 4 or more

Bundles to oneaddress:

12 for $6. 00 24for $12.00

Group subscriptions:12for $ 6.00 per month 24for$12. 00 permonth

Address subscriptions and manuscripts to Connie W. Adams, P. O. Box 69,Brooks, Kentucky 40109-0069.

Address supply orders to Religious Supply Center, Inc., 4001 Preston Hwy., Louisville, Kentucky 40213. Phone (502) 366-9014 (Ky. residents),1-800-626-5348.

POSTMASTER: Send change of address forms to P. O. Box 69, Brooks, Kentucky 40109-0069.

A WORTHY WOMANBy Darlene Craig

This is a well-written book with a chapter on each verseof Proverbs 31: 10-31. The author is the wife of a faithful gospel preacher, a mother, home-maker, and grandmother. Her writing style is fresh and her researchis extensive. Her applications are alive to the needs ofgodly women today. This 220 page paperback book isattractively bound, the layout is neat and the printing isexcellent. A unique approach to such topics as identity, worth, attitude, love, marriage, mothering, morals, plus current issues and everyday living. "The best book on women I haveread"—

Bobbie Adams

Order fromReligious Supply Center $5.95

"HER HUSBAND SHALL PRAISE HER"

She was young, full of life and with a twinkle in her eyewhen I first began to notice Barbara Rose Colley of Fulton,Kentucky. I was a sophomore and she a freshman at FloridaCollege. From the middle of October, 1949, when she accompanied me to a church service, I dated no other girl.Our love grew as the days passed and we began to plan alife together. As we sat by the Hillsboro River, or wandered across campus, we dreamed and planned of thedays ahead. She knew that I was a preacher and had determined to give my life to that work.

Our plans always were built around the work of the gospel. We even talked of spending part of our life in another country planting gospel seed. We promised ourselvesthat if children should bless our home, we would do the bestwe could to bring them up to serve the Lord. And so, onAugust 14, 1950, in Fulton, Kentucky, we exchanged wedding vows and began what turned into over 34 and a halfyears of life together. From the first, she reflected uncommonwisdom in her conduct among the brethren. It was soon evident that she was the greatest asset I had. When we returned to college, after a year's absence to work with the church in Lake City, Florida, she worked to help me finishand took pride in what I did.

She did not flinch about going to Bergen, Norway in 1957even though she was six months pregnant at the time wesailed fromNew York. I suggested thatwe wait until after thebaby arrived to begin our work. She thought we ought to go on and said the Lord would look after us. He did. Our older son, Wilson, was born on December 29, 1957 in Bergen.She always shared my interest in gospel work in differentparts of the world and encouraged the efforts in Canada, thePhilippines, Norway, Italy and a number of other places. Itwas she who suggested that I ought to go again to visit the brethren in the Philippines in 1975 and "see how they do. " Our younger son, Martin, was born on March 2, 1961 inFulton, Kentucky.

Through lean years, when support was meager and wehad to count pennies, she never complained or reflected anyjealousy because other women her age had things we did not own. In the last several years in which much of my preaching has been in meetings scattered throughout the land, sheurged me to go and do what I could. When possible, shewent along and that always

helped the meetings. When she could not, she kept the homefires burning and saw to an increasing work load as the yearspassed. In 1973, when H. E. Phillips asked me to take on thetask of continuing the work of SEARCHING THE SCRIPTURES, we prayed much about it and she urged meto take on the work and said she would stand by and help.And help she did. She quit her job as a High School Businessteacher and took over the office work essential to the publication of such a paper. For many years she handled the mailing list, billing, and a host of business activities forthe paper and left me free to handle only the editorial responsibilities along with preaching commitments. For thelast twelve years she has worked behind the scenes to see that thebusiness end of thepapersucceeded.

Bobbie did not seek the limelight. She was alwaysembarrassed when extra attention was focused on her. Yet,she was a woman of strong spirit and deep convictions. Thewomen who sat in her classes can testify to that. So can Iand so can our sons. She was not in the least sympatheticwith the Feminist Movement. She saw it as a threat to what the Bible teaches aboutfamily relationships. Yet,shewasnot a shrinking violet. She was of the opinion that the lack ofsensitivity on the part of men (including many professedChristians) gave an aura of credibility to the movement. Butshe was also persuaded that better women helped to makebetter men and she worked on the problem from that angle,with some success, Imightadd.

She was impatient with preacher's wives, or other women, who whined. She could, and did, make short conversation with those who offered sympathy to her when Iwas off preaching and she was left at home. In no uncertainterms she made it known that she believed as much in what I was doing asI did and thatshe did not want such misplacedsympathy. Sometimes she did it with a biting wit. Once asister tried to tell her how sorry she was for her that "BrotherAdams was off again somewhere to preach. " Then the sistermade a mistake by asking "What do you do with yourselfwhen he is gone like this. " With a twinkle in her eye, shereplied "Why, that's when I put on my blond wig and go to town and have a big time!" End of conversation!

I liked her attitude toward rearing our children. She did not think they were any different from anyone else's children. We never made decisions asto whattheycould or could not dobased on what the brethren might think. It was always, "Whatis right for a Christian?" She did many extra things for oursons, Wilson and Martin. It was her hard work and thriftwhich helped so much in getting them through college. She took great delight in their accomplishments. She joined mein encouraging both sons to do in life what they felt bestsuited to do, all the while remembering the need to "seek firstthe kingdom of God. "

While being the very heart of our home,shedid not forgether parents. An only child, she was most attentive to theneeds of her parents. Her father spent his last 18 years as atotal invalid. She stood by and helped her mother right to theend. She had many of the noble attributes which her mother, Virginia Colley, demon

strated so well. Nana, as we call her, moved into our home a year and a half ago, and remains part of thehousehold, even now that Bobbie is at rest. No parents could ask more of a daughter than she gave.

She was not only my wife, she was my best friend. Iboth loved and liked her. No husband could ask more than she gave and no wife could have given more. For nearly35 years my lifehasbeen so intertwined with hers that it ismost difficult to consider myself or my life apart from her.Her race is run; mine must go on. Her pain is now endedwhile mine remains intense. She has gone to be with theLord while I am still pressing for the prize. But her memoryis etched in the hearts of our children, in her mother's heart and in my own heart. Rest well, sweet Bobbie. Youcannot return to us, but my heartbeat quickens at thethought that I shall join you one day in the land that isfairer than day.

Meanwhile, the lyricsof a song Iused to singhauntme.Let me share them with you.

"She slipped into the silence

Of my dreams lastnight

Wandering from room to room

Turning on each light

Her laughter spillslike water

From the river to the sea

And I'm sweptaway from sadness

Clinging to her memory.

Sweet memories, sweet memoriesAnd I'mswept awayfrom sadnessClinging to her memory. "

Page 5

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looked forward to this move for a long time and, besides that,you have spent the last several months asking brethren all over the country to support us and stand with us and theyhave agreed. And furthermore, " she continued, "Aren't we going there to do the Lord's work ? If we are, then He willwatch over us. And, by the way, are you so uninformed as tothink that the United States is the only place in the worldwhere babies can be born?" Thus with her assurance, determination and conviction they boarded the S. S. OsloFjord and sailed out of New York Harbor toward the land of the mid-night sun.

December finally came and so did the baby but all did notgo easily. There were custom differences to overcome, anew language to learn and a dreaded decision to be made thatsnowy night on the twenty-ninth. Complications in deliveryhad arisen and the prospects for survival of both motherand child were minimal. The young man was filled withanguish. All alone he couldn't help but remember that thedecision to come to Norway had, after all, been his decisionand now it appeared as if their coming was, as some othersbelieved, foolish and unwise. How he longed for home with anice American hospital for his wife with doctors who actually spoke English. What he got was the UniversityHospital in Bergen (which refused to allow him to wait at thehospital during delivery) and a doctor for his wife who wasan avowed Communist.

The time passed ever so slowly. Prayers were offered ontwo continents that both might live. Finally the call came. Itseems that the mother had refused to give up and thatsomeway, somehow both she and the child had survived theordeal and a wiggling, screaming baby boy was the result.

They went on to remain in Bergen for another two years(which turned out to be two of the most profitable years oftheir lives) before returning to the states in 1959. By theway, the reason I'm so interested in all of this is because, well—that little fellow whose mother refused to let him die—was me!

And, so, I couldn't help but think about all of that as Igazed at the Statute of Liberty that March morning in NewYork. The next day I phoned and talked with her brieflyabout going there but after she spoke just a few words shewas out of breath and our conversation had to end. I said goodbye. Three days later she was gone.

This is the hardest article I've ever had to write because while to everyone else she was "Bobbie, " to me she was—"mom. " Everyday now I think about her. There is an empty void within the pit of my stomach that will never befilled. I hurt like I have never hurt before. And, yet, I'm consoled by the Spirit of God who said in Revelation 14: 13—"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on! Yes,says the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors for theirdeeds follow with them. "

O The Precious Memories

1. I'll remember her smile. She enjoyed living and she

taught me by her example to smile at life even when life getspretty tough. One of her doctors recently remarked—

"I've never seen a lady quite like her, she never lost thatsense of humor. " O the precious memories linger on... Of the nights around the fire when we would pop some corn,unfold the card table and break open the Rook cards. Shewas always my partner (no one else ever volunteered) and Ican still hear her say, "Wilson, you crazy nut—what in the world are you doing?"... and she would smile and laugh even though I had just buried us 300 in the hole! But win orlose (and wedid win a few) wejust enjoyed being together.

  1. I'll remember her spiritual consistency. There were many occasions growing up when dad was off preaching in some distant state or country—butIcan't ever recall her complaining about it. What I do recall with vividness is that under her direction things went on asusual. Each night, in dads absence, she would get down thebig Bible and read to us and help us with our prayers. Wewould talk about why he was away and she caused us tounderstand that his work was the most important in theworld. She encouraged me so much.
  2. I'll remember her work-ethic. Mom worked hard at everything she did figuring that if something were worth doing it was worth doing right. Laziness and idleness were words unknown in her vocabulary of living.She never pushed Martin or me to be more than we possiblycould be but she always insisted that we do ourbest.And sheset the example.
  3. I'll remember her patience—with me. There were a few years there when I wasn't the easiest person in the world to get along with, but she never gave up. And shenever stopped loving me. She cared, and that meant everything.

O The Glorious Hope

Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God,believe also in Me. In My Father's house aremany dwelling places; if it were not so, I wouldhave told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will comeagain, and receive you to Myself; that where I am,there you may be also. (John 14: 1-3).

That was one of her favorite passages. She told me so after Ihad read it at her father's funeral two years ago. The otherday I had to explain to our children that they wouldn't get to see their "Granny" again for awhile. Our son Dale blurted out that she had gone up to heaven. After a moment little Sharon spoke up and said, "Dad, some dayI'm going to go to heaven and see Granny again. "... 1 am too sweetheart; I am too. Her children rise up, and call herblessed, Her husband also, and he praises her, saying: Manydaughters have done worthily, But thou excellest themall Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain; But a woman thatfeareth the Lord, she shall be praised.

Give her the fruit of her hands; And let herworks praise her in the gates.

Proverbs 31: 28-31

Driving across Kentucky early Monday morning I beganto see familiar sights that let me know I was getting closeto home. Being the son of a gospel preacher, I have livedin several states, but by-in-large my parents made our homein the Louisville area. Over the past fifteen years, Daddyworked with three congregations in the area and it is herethat they raised my brother and me into young men. For thisreason I find it difficult to listen to a playing of "My OldKentucky Home" without thinking of the home place and a tear welling up in my eye. However, this trip was different, aone time occurrence, for my brother's family and mine wereon our way home to buryour mother, a most difficult thing to do. Someone has said that "Home is where the heart is" and Mom was the heart of our family like most mothers. Thisweek the meaning of "home" took on a new meaning forour family, because of the passing away of Mother.

Since Dad became editor of Searching the Scriptures Ihave taken the utmost interest in its work though neverhaving contributed any material for print. I am not a fulltime gospel preacher, an elder, or a deacon, and right now I donot even teach a Bible class at church. However, let meshare a few thoughts now from the pew's point of view,rather than the pulpit's about some lessons my mother hastaught me even after she is gone.

LESSON #1

Home and mothers are something we take for granted attimes. Home being a place where shoes can be kicked off atthe door, and Mom a place where support can always befound. Yet time has a way of changing things, and this is oneof the many lessons I have been taught the last two days.For home is not a two story brick house on a few acres ofKentucky sod, it is wherever loved ones are living. Part ofour home is now resting in paradise receiving a small part ofher reward of faithfulness while awaiting the resurrection.This alone has made my desire for heaven all the strongerand the reward that it will be all the sweeter. Yes, timedoes indeed have a way of changing things.

LESSON #2

Mom taught me this week the true value of tears.Never have I had to rely on them so heavily. They are God'sway of relieving the pain of those left behind who have a hard time understanding his methods and are slowto accept them. They soothe the human spirit. Jesus knewthe value of tears in Jno. 11: 32-36. The apostle Paullikewise used his tears as a means of overcoming worldly sorrows and struggles. Through grief comes better understanding of passages of scripture which refer to other's lamentations. I hope I can relate that to other peoplein my teaching.

LESSON #3

In addition to the value of tears in times of calamity comes the value of true friendship. Let me share the closing lines of a poem received from one such friend,"Life's completeness and richness depends on the thingswe share with our loved ones and friends". Having closefriendscome running to your sidewhen you need support ismore encouraging than one can imagine until he is on thereceiving end of such support. Indeed, how rich and blesseda family can be by having and cultivating close Christianfriends. Another lesson Mom taught and I have learned.

LESSON #4

Many sermons are preached on our influence on the world around us. We are to guard our reputations with theutmost care for it is through this vehicle that we mustreach out to teach those around us. Mom and Dad have some good neighbors, of varied religious backgrounds, and perhaps some with little or no religious connection. Overthe years, they have been invited many times to come tohear Dad preach or attend Gospel meetings, and as far as Iknow few have ever accepted our invitations. Out of respect for mother, many of these families came to thefuneral home and some came to the funeral services at the church building. It was a special teaching opportunity for allwho came. As a result of the services, some neighbors havetold Dad that they have a "whole list" of questions to ask.Because of the beautiful congregational singing, one question was "Is it a requirement for members of the church ofChrist to know how to sing well?" For some of us, we can bemost thankful that such is not the case! Due to one goodinfluence several people may study the Word of God moreseriously. Brothers and sisters, no one can convince me thatpersonal influence is not important. You can rest assuredyours will outlive you! Only you can control whether theinfluence you leave behind will be for the Lord or againsthim.

Now I know why it is better to dwell in a house ofmourning than a house of feasting; it is because of theinsight to be found within its walls. Thanks, Mama, forthese lessons and all the others throughout life that you tried so hard to drill into my sometimes uncooperating head. Ineeded them all (as she well knew).

A godly woman of many talents—that was Barbara Rose(Colley) Adams. She was the only child of Doron and VirginiaColley of Fulton, Ky. Perhaps no one in that extremelysouthwestern Kentucky town of a few thousand people everconsidered that one oftheirown would riseto such aplaceofprominence and influence in the church of the Lord. There was a becoming refinement in her parents. They were industrious, her father was skilled in woodwork and in lateryears was an antique dealer. He was a good provider and aquiet man. Her mother possessed qualities of strength whichmade themselves known in a special way when she tended toher invalid husband for the last eighteen years of his life.Bobbie was a composite of those qualities of her parents. Thiswas to become a great asset in her own life and in a uniqueway prepare her for her role as a preacher's wife, editor'swife, mother, and grand-mother.

Although there were many times when she was no doubtvery lonely after her boys went to college and her husband began to devote himself to full-time meeting work, special classes and to editing Searching The Scriptures, she knew how to handle loneliness. Perhaps she learned some of this asan only child. She was amazingly self-reliant and well-ordered in every aspect of her life. She was the coordinator and organizer in the family. This was not only a good quality but an especially advantageous one. Bobbie knew how to compact allthe loose endsanddetails together into aworkablearrangement. This is a rare ability.

Pretense and sham were unknown and foreign to her nature.No matter where she lived or whom she associated with she remained the same basic person. Her pronounced Kentuckyaccent never changed nor was it even modified. A modestwoman, she never lost the ability to blush. She was nevercoarse nor would she tolerate it in others. She possessed thevirtue of purity.

How does one in such limited space aptly portray such a fine person? After seeking information and impressions fromfamily members and friends, this writer now has the task ofweaving the wealth of material together so as to presentBobbie's life to the readers for what it really was—a wonderfulexample ofGod's woman. Here iswhatthey said.

A sense of humor... contagious laughter... a merry heart...considerate to children... given to kindness... prettyspecial... quietly efficient... given to family and loved ourget-togethers... optimism and hope... deter

mination in the face of difficulties... always learning... a frankness never to be misunderstood... witty with a love forfriendly banter... versatile... a deep spirituality... a fine daughter and daughter-in-law... and much more.

Please permit this writer now to personally recall glimpses and flashbacks of scenes and events since becoming Bobbie's brother-in-law in August of 1950 until herpassing in March of 1985.

The wedding at Fulton, Ky. (I was best man)... their firstpreaching work at Lake City, Fla... Florida College (calledFlorida Christian College in those days)... preaching appointments throughout Florida as students at FC... campus life as married students... hard times... struggle...faith grows... time for fun and country music... times ofdecision... a time for strong faith... issues in the church...trips to Virginia at Christmas and summertime... Palmetto, Fla... Atlanta, Ga... preparation for going to Norway... a child conceived... the trip over with the Kickliters and Mary Russell... Wilson is born in Bergen...the language barrier... homesickness and the exchanging oftapes back and forth among family members... Mrs. Colleyintroduces "Grits" to Norway in Care packages... the firstconvert. Dag Bjornstad baptized in a fjord... home again andhappy reunion... Newbern, Tn. and financial recovery...things get better... another son, Martin, is born while atNewbern... Orlando and new horizons... expansion of gospel meeting work... on to Akron, Ohio. .. buying a house... theboys and school days... a dog named "Trouble"... life getsmore complex... influence and responsibilities increase...Louisville, here we come... a business degree for Bobbie...Bobbie the schoolteacher... Manslick Rd... Hebron Lane... a dear friend dies of cancer... Bobbie gets her dream house...Connie on full-time meeting work... Wilson to Florida College... Bobbie's cat, Alexander Campbell, "Alex" for short... they become new owners of Searching The Scriptures... winter classes at Expressway... Martin to Florida College... days of transition... increase in teachingwork load... Connie, the editor... Bobbie, the business manager... death of Bobbie's father... Nana (Mrs. Colley)moves in with them... a brief respite... cancer... declining health... faith in adversity... days of prayer and reflection...the 1985 lectures at FC... back home again... just a few moredays... asleep in Jesus.

It is hoped that these brief family reflections relative tothe life of Bobbie Adams will serve to teach others down through the years some lessons of value in their own livesas they read this in days to come. Farewell, Bobbie, for now!

"... Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest fromtheir labours; and their works do follow them" (Revelation

14: 13b).

"Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is farabove rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust inher, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do himgood and not evil all the days of her life... Give her of thefruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in thegates" (Prov. 31: 10-12; 31).

It takes a special kind of person to willingly share the lifeof an editor and not complain. In 1973 when Connie W.Adams took the helm of this religious journal, he had notarrived at that point alone. His dutiful and efficient wifeshared his plans and had accepted the responsibility ofattending to the business side of this venture. She was hisloyal advisor in both the purchase of Searching The Scriptures, and in revising the business arrangements andthe plans for making the mailing list more efficient.

Barbara Colley Adams was especially prepared intellectually, emotionally and spiritually to be an editor's wife. She had a quick, sharp mind, and was fully qualifiedto handle the business side of Searching The Scriptures.She was willing to take the tedious and arduous task ofsetting up a system of bookkeeping that paved the wayfor Searching The Scriptures to operate in the black within a few years. Not many religious papers ever dothat, and I believe Connie Adams will give the full creditto Bobbie for making the business plans and keeping thepaper on track from the time it was purchased until avery short time before her death.

I first met Connie and Bobbie Adams very shortly afterthey were married. From that time to this day myappreciation for Bobbie as a helpmeet for Connie in hiswork as a gospel preacher has abounded. In no greaterarea did it shine than in her work as an editor's wife. She shared her husband's joys and anticipated his successeswith him. She participated with him in his plans for thepaper and its operation. She helped him chart the course thatmade it a successful business operation. Above all else,she enthusiastically shared his zest for advancing the cause of Christ both on this continent and in Europe, aswell as in the Philippines.

Bobbie met the challenge of bearing the unseen burdensof an editor and his wife. Many people think the work ofan editor is relatively easy, and the glory and power that isusually thought tobelongto thatpositionwill far outweighwhat labors may be required. It is just not that way. Onedoes not have to be an editor to know that fact; he needonly be related to an editor or close to

him. To be the wife of an editor is to be in the most

vulnerable position for insults, heartaches, disappoint

ments and abuse even from friends, that one can imagine.

It takes a strong faith, a lot of patience and love for the

truth and the souls of men to survive.

Bobbie Adams had just the right qualities to make avery successful editor's wife. When her husband was unjustly treated in his effort to do his work of teaching, shehad the fire to help him meet the challenge. She couldgivethe reassurance when it wasneeded, but she could alsodeal with the adversary effectively when necessary. She hadthat mixture of zeal, endurance, understanding, hard work,compassion and love for truth and right that made ConnieAdams a good editor.

But I have known of the times when Bobbie put in her"two cents" when she did not think Connie was making thebest judgment, particularly with the business end of thepaper. She usually prevailed because he had a great respectfor her judgment and her ability in that field. She will notsoon be replaced in this area of work.

But after all is said and done, the wife of an editor doesnot usually share in the tributes ofpraise given himfor hiswork. Like the wife of a preacher, she works hard and thenstands in the shadows and is happy to see her husbandreceive the words of praise and encouragement. Well, hearthis: neither preacher nor editor reaches his peak ofsuccess without the labors and sacrifices of his good wife.That was especially true of Bobbie Adams.

Those hands that rendered so much service to the editor are now folded in rest. The eyes that sparkled with fire onsome occasions, and caressed with compassion on others,are closed in sleep. The tongue that once spoke words ofencouragement, instruction, or rebuke now lies silent inrest. "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest fromtheir labours; and their works do follow them" (Rev. 14: 13).

I shall miss her, but it is the beloved editor of this paperthat will miss her most of all, for she was not only hisfaithful wife, she was his helper as editor. There is an unlimited reservoir of power and comfort in Almighty Godthrough Jesus Christ our Lord. To Him we all can go forour needs. Connie, my brother and friend, I love you.

When it was suggested that I write this article, my first thought was that it might be a prejudiced article since Iwould be writing about the life of one of my favoriteindividuals. After having some time to think about what Iwanted to say, several thoughts came to my mind.

I first began to ask myself "Why was Bobbie Adams sospecial?" The following points best describe why this ladywas a special servant of the Lord.

She was a faithful Christian, always striving to know moreabout the Lord's Word. She loved to hear it read and taught;and what she learned, she was eager to share with others.In Bible Class, as a pupil or as a teacher, she was alwaysprepared for the occasion. When I summed up the above,along with many other attributes, I knew why one enjoyedbeing associated with Bobbie Adams.

Having good Bible teachers is one of the most difficulttasks elders have in a local congregation. In every congregation there are a number of classes consisting of students who have varying degrees of knowledge of theBible. For an individual to be the teacher the Lord expects,one musthaveset some personal goals.The local elderscanhelp but much of the preparation in becoming a teachermust be done by an individual.

We often think of a teacher from one viewpoint—the ability to communicate to another. A teacher is far more than that! One must be a good example to others with whom theycome in contact.

For one to be an effective teacher, she must understandand practice what the apostle Peter said in 1 Pet. 3: 1-6.Bobbie understood verse 6, being a daughter of Sarah. Shehad a chaste conversation and a meek and quietspirit in the sight of God. In old times, Peter said, women with thesecharacteristics denoted holiness and were teachers of goodthings. Holy women are to teach the younger women to be"sober, to love their own husbands, to love their children, tobe discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to theirown husbands that the Word of God not be blasphemed"(Titus 2: 5). Bobbie understood Paul's statement to Timothy (1 Tim. 2: 9, 10) that women professing godliness will bemodest in their appearance and they will want to be an example to those within the family of the Lord and to those to whom she desired to teach by a godly life.

Bobbie Adams had the love and determination of Priscilla to teach or explain to a man what she believed the Bible tobe teaching on a given subject. I admired the keenness withwhich she listened in class and the

humble response she gave when she felt a particular pointhad not been clarified.

We have worked hard to have a good teaching program atExpressway. As one of the elders assigned to arrangingteachers and materials for classes, I often asked Bobbie forhelp. Sometimes she would have an immediate answer butoften she would say, "Let me think about it. " Her contribution to the teaching program was in a suggestiveand humble manner and she will be missed by all of us.

The Bible says for women to be teachers and further explains an area where they have expertise. We asked Bobbie Adams to teach a special, elective class for womenat Expressway. She, having been trained as a school teacherin our public schools, had extra credentials (in our eyes) asto ability. She enjoyed and was most effective in teachingdifferent grade levels, and that seemed to be her first love.

We saw the need to have a young girls and other women's class and Bobbie was instrumental in this endeavor. She spent several months preparing lessons thatwould be taught to the women at the Expressway Church.This was not a class where the students sat around and gave personal testimony of what they thought. It was a class that taught women what God expects out of women.

Bobbie had the unique ability to separate what the Bibledemands and those things that fall within the realm of judgments and opinions. She was able to give a sense ofmeaning to Bible verses so that women of the church would not feelthat they were secondarymembers of the church andthat God's order of creation of woman was not an inferior one. It was a position of honor and respect. With her knowledge of the Bible, she was able to share this rich information with other women.

Ladies in the church who want to be godly will not argueover what their judgment is on the word "modesty". Theyunderstand that going naked in public is not justimmodesty but a sin. Bobbie explained there is a way of lifewhich fits people who have their minds on going to heaven.With that in mind many of the argumentative questionsdisappeared. Questions such as "How should one dress forthe assembly of the church, and in the privacy of one's own home?" Individual members that I talked with understood better that judgment and opinion were not separate relationships in life but that one's judgment and opinionshould always be to give honor to whom honor is due—magnifying the God and Creator—serving Jesus as King ofKings— helping others to be happy in whatever state of lifethey faced.

Bobbie had a strong faith in God and believed and taughtthe immortality of the soul. In her life she expressed it and in her death she magnified her confidence in the Lord, for shebelieved that nothing in life or death could separate her fromthe love of God.

All of this is why Bobbie Adams will be missed as ateacher, as a wife, as a mother, and as a sister in Christ. She was Special!

The Bible says, "Honor all men" (1 Pet. 2: 17). That is,"give honor to whom honor is due" (Rom. 13: 7). In thisissue of Searching The Scriptures, we give honor to the lateBobbie Adams, our long time friend, and the belovedwife of our dear friend and brother, Connie Adams.

In this tribute I want us to think of Bobbie as a persongiven to hospitality. After nearly 35 years of close acquaintance with Bobbie and Connie, having been intheir home many, many times, especially while we werestudents at Florida College, I know somewhat whereof Ispeak about her generosity and kindness. Many othershave equally been recipients of her goodness. Indeed, shewas a woman that pursued hospitality.

Bobbie reflected in her life the Scriptures that teach, "Distributing to the necessity of the saints; given to hospitality" (Rom. 12: 13), "Using hospitality one to another without grudging" (1 Pet. 4: 9) and "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some haveentertained angels unaware" (Heb. 13: 2). She believed these divine injunctions and acted accordingly, not just outof a sense of duty, but out of a heart of beneficence.

She exuded the spirit of Christ in showing hospitality.Jesus practiced hospitality in feeding the multitudes (Mk.

6: 30-44; 8: 1-10) and the disciples (Jn. 21: 9-14). Markspecifically states that Jesus was moved with compassion toward those who had been with him three days and had nothing to eat (Mk. 8: 2).

Jesus would have been a welcomed guest in the home ofBobbie, like he was in the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus (Lk. 10: 38-42; Jn. 12: 1-9), Levi (Mk. 2: 14-15),Simon the leper (Mk. 14: 3) and the Emmaus hosts (Lk. 24:29). She was a combination of Martha and Mary, and if Jesushad come in the flesh to her home, she would have servedhim a good meal to satisfy his hunger, but above this, shewould have spent most of the time sitting at Jesus' feet learning more of the words of life.

Gospel preachers through the years have made their home with Bobbie and Connie during gospel meetings orstayed with them while passing through on their way to orfrom protracted meetings. Such hospitality was evident inthe lives of many first century saints. Lydia, after herconversion, constrained Paul and his companions to comeinto her house and abide there (Acts 16: 14-15). The home ofAquila and Priscilla was open to Paul when he preached inCorinth (Acts 18: 1-3), and after Paul returned from histhird missionary journey, he,

along with his fellow-laborers, abode with Philip the evangelist at Caesarea (Acts 21: 8).

I believe that the motivation for hospitality in the life ofBobbie was for several reasons. First, she was hospitablebecause of love. For a person to be the kind of a Christian God expects, he must have love—love that is kind,benevolent, unselfish and of good-will. Hospitality is a partof the quality of love. Hebrews 6: 10 states that "God isnot unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love,which ye have showed toward his name, in that ye haveministered to the saints, and do minister. "

Second, she was hospitable because she realized thatsuch helped to further the gospel Every person cannot be apreacher, but we can provide sustenance of life to enableothers to preach. John said, "We therefore ought to receivesuch (that is, we ought to lodge gospel preachers) that wemightbe fellow-helpers to the truth" (3John8).

Third, she was hospitable because she looked on hospitality as a divine gift. After Peter said, "Using hospitality one to another" (1 Pet. 4: 9), he stated in verse 10, "Asevery man hath received the gift, even so minister thesame one to another, as good stewards of the manifold graceof God. " Our being able to help others is a gift of God.Bobbie, as a good steward, exercised this gift and ministered unto others.

Jesus does not overlook our generosity and kindness,even thevery small thingswedo. "And whosoevershallgiveto drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold wateronly in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, heshall in no wise lose his reward" (Matt. 10: 42). In the day ofjudgment Jesus will say to the faithful, loving, generousand compassionate disciple, "Come, ye blessed of myFather, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world" (Matt. 25: 34).

Luke's beautiful eulogy of Dorcas is equally fitting toBobbie: "this woman was full of good works and alms-deeds which she did" (Acts 9: 34). In hope we can confidently say, "Great is her reward in heaven. "

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I first met Bobbie in the early fifties when Connie broughthis finance' home to Virginia to meet the family. From thefirst we all loved Bobbie. Since she did not have any sisters,nor did I, we became sisters to each other in every wayexcept one. We never had a disagreement or spoke a harshword to the other one in the thirty-six years we were acquainted.

While we were all at Florida College together we wore eachother's clothes. We shared joys together as our husbandsstudied to prepare themselves to preach the unsearchableriches of God's word. We shared meals together and, sincemoney was not very plentiful during those college days, wewould each make a dish of something and eat together everySaturday night. One night Bobbie came in with an aromaticsmelling casserole which proved to be very delicious. Weasked her what the name of it was. She said, "I don't remember. I got the recipe out of a magazine. Just call itTHAT. To this day all of us in the family make "THAT". Itis still delicious.

We shared the joys of our children being born. When shewas expecting her second son, Martin, I was expecting ourdaughter, Karen. They were both born in March. We share thejoy of Martin's birth the first of March and the sorrow of the death of our daughter, Karen, when she was born the last ofMarch. We truly learned "to weep with those who weep andrejoice with those who rejoice. "

Bobbie was an excellent Bible student. She shared with me her desire to teach a young married ladies class. She received permission to do this and with her meticulous, keenmind set about to arrange a six month's course. She shared her notes with me and I received permission to teach itwhere my husband, Wiley, preaches. From the commentswe both received, and especially from the comments she received, several marriages were enhanced. Some who hadseparated came back together. One wife remarked that sherealized she had not been a good wife but she was going totake what she had learned from the class and try to improveherself. She did just that.

What a shock it was when Bobbie confided in me that she had been diagnosed as having that dread disease called CANCER. She never once became bitter or said, "Why me,Lord?" She accepted the diagnosis and the treatments witha calm, mature, Christian attitude. Bobbie had her eyes seton the cross of Christ. Even though she leftus in the autumnof life and missed the joys of growing old along with herbeloved husband, Connie; of watching her children grow olderin the Lord; being able to teach her grandchildren the unsearchable

riches of the Word of God; we know we will meet again, (if wewho are left remain faithful) in that home over there wherethere will be no more sorrows, no more tears.

As I filed by her casket for the last time and looked on herlovely, serene face, my thoughts were, "Goodbye my dearsister, we shall meet again over there. 'For I am persuadedthat neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, norheight, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able toseparate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus ourLord'" (Romans 8: 38, 39).

The shortest verse in the Bible simply reads, "Jesus wept"(John 11: 35). Those who read this article will be familiarwith the story of Jesus' friendship with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Lazarus died and Mary and Martha cried and Jesuswept with them in their sorrow. Jesus understands our sorrow and our tears at the death of our loved ones. Just as Jesus could miraculously raise Lazarus, so will my friend,Bobbie, be raised (1 Thess. 4: 16). But for the time she is nolonger with us in the flesh, and even yet, it is hard for me torealize that never again on this earth will I hug, laugh, or crywith Bobbie, my friend.

Friendships are formed because of certain situations: common interests, personalities, and the "tie that binds. "

Bobbie Adams and I had a lot in common, and, as circumstances would have it, we were living in the same placeat the same time. Although I had known who Bobbie Adams was for many years, it was not until we moved toAkron, Ohio, in 1967, when Ferrell joined Connie in the work at the Brown Street church, that Bobbie and I becamevery close friends. It was January when we moved and theday was cold and somewhat dreary, but the Adamses' house was bright and cheerful; Bobbie had prepared dinner for us.We ate our first meal in Akron with the Adamses, and wespent our last night in Akron with them. Bobbie was alwayspreparing a meal or making room for someone to spend thenight. In one of her letters to me last fall she wrote that shehad fourteen people invited for brunch when the doctor said,"You must go to the hospital now. " Bobbie "practiced hospitality" (Romans 12: 13).

The most important thing that Bobbie and I had in common was that we were both Christians. And next to that were our husbands and their work —both preachers, both preaching for the same congregation at the same time. Bobbie often lamented that not many young girls aspired tobe married to a preacher;we both

thought it was wonderful to be sharing our lives with menwho preached the gospel. With the two-preacherarrangement at Brown Street, one of our husbands would be home and one would be gone in meetings. Bobbie and Iwould joke about the arrangement and say what we had herewas one preacher with two preachers' wives. It was a most pleasant relationship and our friendship flourished. Bobbieand I shared a sense of humor; we could laugh at ourselves.

Bobbie and I shared many mutual interests. We had beenat Florida College close enough in time that we knew several of the same people and had some of the same teachers. Bobbie Miller Owen had been our typing and shorthand teacher. Bobbie Adams and I were both business education majors, and Bobbie was doing some of her coursework at Akron University while we were living in Akron.Bobbie would share with me the discussions in her classes,and we would discuss the pros and cons of the latest in teaching methods.

At the time we lived in Akron, the church at Brown Street was publishing and mailing The Enlightener.Bobbie and I spent many an afternoon in our basementmaking address changes, counting, and mailing the publication. It was a fun time and we enjoyed the work.

The Adamses had two sons and so did we. Bobbie and I would take the boys for hikes in the beautiful parks in Akronand in the winter sledding down the hill in Firestone Park. Itwas Bobbie who kept Ferrell, Jr., for me the first time I went to the Bible Lands.

It was from these days in Akron that our friendshipbegan, but it did not end when we moved to Florida forFerrell to edit the "Truth in Life" Bible class literature. We kept in touch by notes and phone calls and our once-a-yearreunions. Bobbie and Connie had a standing invitation to staywith us during Florida College lectures every year (and Imight add, Connie still has that invitation), and we lookedforward to that time each year to catch up on family andmutual friends. We would pick up like it had been onlyyesterday that we saw each other.

The last time I saw Bobbie was when she and Connie pulled out of our driveway on January 31 after lectures thispast year. I would not let myself believe it would be the lasttime I'd see her, but two months from that very day Ireceived the call that she had died. I loved Bobbie verymuch; she was my friend, and I will miss her more than I can express. But God in his infinite wisdom has given us amemory, and in my memory will be etched the good life andthe good influenceofmy friend Bobbie.

She wasn't a queen, nor the wife of a ruler. She was notknown for being in the limelight. In fact, one could live andnever know her as anyone but Connie's wife. She was a quiet daughter of Zion, who went about doing good and shunning any glory which was offered. She truly lovedworking in thevineyard of the Lord,and made itherlife. Inan age when many women feel unfulfilled, she felt satisfied.She was my Aunt Bobbie, and I loved her and will sorelymiss her. Others maintained a different relationship to her,but she was a specialaunt tome.

She really loved her relatives. She liked being around themand having them call and talk, or drop by to visit. She considered all her nieces and nephews as a second family.My brothers and sister and I have many fond memories,such as the time she bought. real cowboy boots and a realblackboard on a particularly lean Christmas. She loved doing things for others, and seeing the joy they wouldderive from it. Shewasnotonly my aunt,but also a sister tomy mother. No, they were not blood related, but they werenonetheless sisters. At a time in my mother's life, when she needed a contemporary to talk with, Aunt Bobbie was there.

She was careful not to show favoritism nor hurt anyone's feelings. Aunt Glenda's kids remember her always buying forall of them, if she bought for one, she showed the samekindness to my younger brother when he was the only onehome. None of us can think of a single negative thoughtabout her. This in itself is notable. She was a great master ofdry wit. I cherish this part of her the most. When I think ofAunt Bobbie, I picture a lady with a twinkle in her eye, who enjoyed a good laugh and could banter with the best of them.She was a delight to be with. She was carefree withoutbeing flippant. She always kidded me about breaking herantique bed,but shewas never angry aboutit. We had a lotof laughs about many things, too numerous to mention,which I will let remain in my memory. She was alwaysthere when needed. I have a letter which she sent to me at a difficult time in my life. She offered encouragement andsupport, in all I undertook, which was just and right. Shewas a great aid in helping me to realize the proper things to look for in a companion. She really took time to care. I visited with her and Uncle Connie often before I married,and she took an interest in my future. She offered somegreat advice on whether I should preach or not. She told methat the one I choose for a mate should be one who enjoysbeing a Christian. She stressed the importance of a godly wife who would help me preach and not hinder me in thatendeavor.She waspleased with my choice.

On the surface she did not appear sentimental, but it wasthere. She sat and shed tears of joy at our wedding, as a proudaunt. She said it was hard to think of "Little Stanley" as amarried man. As years moved along her children and wegrew as close or closer as brothers and sisters. This gave hergreat satisfaction.

She enjoyed life and being with people. Her outlook wasneverdroll. She was a perpetualoptimist, even in sickness. Iwill cherish the last time I was with her for a long time. Wedined at a restaurant with my mother. Although she wasfeeling badly, she put forth her best foot. She was a delight tobe with, but yet I could sense she was struggling. She would not say shewas, for she tried to stay cheerfuland peppy.Thisshould be a great lesson for us all. So many lack joy in theirlives. Her trick was to think of all her blessingsand how goodshe had it and, while counting those things, she lost track ofthe negative things.

Aunt Bobbie was a peaceful lady. There was a certain calmabout her, which said to the world: "It will be all right, thistoo, shall pass. " She did not dwell on the minor things inlife. She really knew how to be at peace with herself andothers. This was amplified by the peaceful way she passedaway. Just a few days before her death, my brother and hisfamily visited her. They found that she did not want to dwellon herself but on the kids. She was quick to assure othersthatshe would be "all right". I do not think any of us fully realizedhow she meant that statement. Although her body was tormented, her spirit was at peace, and she knew it wouldn't be long.

I never stopped learning lessons from her. Her death andfuneral were full of valuable lessons. It would have been easyto grow sour and depressed and to ask, "why me?" But AuntBobbie had more class than that. She knew that a bad attitude only hinders a fruitful walk of faith. "Let's get onwith it", seemed to be her attitude, even in death. She haddeveloped the courage to accept the things she could notchange. This outlook is what enabled her to accomplish sovery much as a Christian. Romans 8: 18, 19 come to mindwhen thinking of her bright view of life. She had a handle onbeing optimistic, without being naive.Shewould be firstto tellyou if you were wrong, but it was always with kindness. Shewas very concerned about those who were not servingChrist, as they should. It grieved her heart to hear of thosewho were casting their souls away, through moral problems.

The many people who came to pay their respects, speaks,more than words, of the calibre of life she lived. I sat andlistened to the words of hope and comfort and, although sad at her passing, I became envious of her better state. It is tobe hoped that all Christians would leave their relatives with the same bright hope she left her family.

I regret that time did not allow her to work out the Adams' Family Reunion she desired so much, but maybe,in a way, she did have it?

There will be a family reunion, one day, in a far better land. Itrust that I will be able to attend. The hope that she hasgiven, in death, will ever be a motivation for me

to try a little harder and excel a little more. Forgettingthose things which are past, let us all press on to the markof the high calling of Christ, which we can all attain, if webut persevere and bravely serve, without whining and complaining.

As Brother Warnock read the words of Sweet By and By,confidence, hope, joy and comfort became the message ofAunt Bobbie's life. I will forever cherish the precious memories of my sweet Aunt Bobbie.

The apostle Paul wrote inTitus 2:3-5 directing theaged women to teach the younger women—"to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, To be1" discreet, chaste, keepers at home,good, obedient to their own husbands, that the Word of God benot blasphemed. " As Bobbie Adams' daughter-in-law, Iknow firsthand that the inspired writer could not have found a more suitablemodel for what he was asking than Mom Adams.

Her behavior toward others Was always kind and polite. Oneof the qualities that always impressed me about Mom was thatshe always found the good in others to comment upon. Mom wasindeed a "teacher of good things. " The Bible teaches us in Proverbs22: 6: "Train up a child inthe way he should go;andwhenhe is old, he will not depart from it. " Her sons are living proof of theexcellent job she did in teaching them the will of God (of course Iadmit to being just a little prejudiced!)

Throughout her lifetime Bobbie Adams stood in front of variousclasses instructing her students, both young and old, from theWord of God. However, through her godly living on a daily basisshe proved to be an inspiration to all of these and to all others whoknew her.

Mom lived her life just as set forth here in Titus. She wassober, centering her mind on spiritual thoughts. She loved herhusband and her children very, very much. And her love did notstop there for she had a strong love for her daughter-in-laws andfor her grand-children too. She was their perfect example ofdiscretion. She kept herself pure at all times. And she knew how to ''keep" her house. She was the most organized house-keeper I've ever known. And was she obedient to her husband? You bet she was! When her husband made a decision she supported him100% and stuck by him no matter what her feelings might havebeen. Surely, Mom was an asset to the cause of Christ not only inthe word, but also in deed.

Thus, the lesson here in Titus 2: 3-5 is one I can easily recall forall I need to do is reflect upon the memory of Mom Adams. Andalthough she is no longer with us, her influence will still be felt bymany of us who had the privilege of knowing and loving her.

I arose early—about five o'clock. The day was bright, atleast as bright as it can be when someone you love lies stilledby death. Ed Brand, my friend and host for a week ofmeetings in Vicksburg, Mississippi, drove me the fortymiles or so to the airport in Jackson. The conversationwas forced as we drove. We both knew why. I flew toMemphis and changed planes. The connection was close, soclose in fact that I walked off one airplane and right on tothe next. We flew on to Louisville.

My mind was flooded with thoughts. Bobbie Adams,sister, friend, wonderful lady was gone. Never again in thisrealm would I see that sparkling smile, that mischievousturn in her voice, that penetrating and sometimes bitinghumor she handled with such wisdom and skill. How could it be? Just a while back we had laughed together, talked ofspiritual things, made plans for our families to visit soon.Now Imustprepare a funeral oration. What to say, How tosay it. And time—there's not time to do it justice. But in acouple of hours it must be said. I prayed. "God help me tosay the right things, to be of whatever service I can to mybeloved brother, to the boys, to the friends who are leftbehind. "

As I perused the scope of life's dealings I was suddenlyawed by the thought that death has a kind of personality,that it is possible to visualize it in it's ethereal garb as itgoes about doing its dastardly deeds. I wrote it down. "Death is sometimes the silent intruder. It slithers, creeps,seeps into the private reaches of man's being. It comesunsuspectingly and without warning, entering the mostsecure rooms of our lives. " As I let my mind entertainwhat I have learned about death, I was also impressed withanother fact. I wrote it down. "Sometimes death is a monstrous invader. It is like an atrocious, savage nightraider, bent on destruction. It comes with a loud, boisterouscommand, claiming its victims with pompous cries of victory. With disregard for influence, obligation,intelligence, nationality, or for our seeming indispensibility,it calls for us, one by one, lining us up in an unendingcolumn which stretches all the way from the dawn ofcreation to the brink of eternity. " My mind was full of hatefor death, full of disdain for what it had done. I gritted myteeth.

But I thought about how she had suffered in recent weeks. And my thoughts turned to relief. I wrote it down."But sometimes death is a welcome friend. It comes as a means of relief from suffering, taking away

the pain, removing the hurt, bringing deliverance. It comes as a wide gate which, in the ethereal distance,looms as not only the means of escape, but also as the means of embracing the favor of Him who cradles andcares, who wipes away all the tears. " "We will miss Bobbie Adams, " I wrote, "but as much as we cared forher, we could rather wish to join her there, than to have herreturn to us. "

The plane landed. Weldon Warnock met me at the gate.His usual bright and happy disposition was obviouslypalliated somewhat bythe sadness oftheoccasion, but hecourageously managed a smile and his always firm, warmhandshake seemed to say thanks for sharing a bad time.We exchanged our pleasantries and proceeded immediately to the church building, stopping on the way for a soft drinkand some cheese crackers. He is a nice man. And there was a rather deep, but unspoken bond between us, born Ithink of the fact that we both had doubts about our abilityto do what we had been called to do. But deep down, weboth knew we would do it. Because we wanted to. For Connie. For Bobbie.

The crowd was huge—somewhere over four hundred. ByBobbie's own request there was congregational singing. Itwas beautiful. Sober, emotional, richly fulfilling. It seemedto give the people an outlet for pent up emotions they hadwanted so desperately to express. There was almost an airof gladness in it—not disrespectful levity, mind you—butexpectant, joyful hope. I looked down from the podium tosee the family—all of them— joining in the singing. It was a fine, strengthening sight.

Brother Warnock's remarks were made with simplicityand respect. His voice was strong, confident. And although his hurt was obvious, it had little effect on hisflowing, expressive oration. Since his relationship withConnie and Bobbie goes back many years, he spoke oftimes gone by, of warm friendship, brotherhood, and joyful experiences. He then read passages from an article Bobbie had written sometimeago about beinga preacher's wife. He read it brilliantly and I could almost hear hersaying some of the parts he read. His remarks were carefully chosen and delivered with sadness and love.

I then spoke of some of the reflections I related earlier,how that death is an invader, a monster, but sometimes awelcome deliverer. I had determined that Bobbie would have been embarrassed by the whole affair anyhow, and so was disinclined to be too lavish in my praise of her. Irelated things I knew. How that she was a genuine helpmeet, a constant, concerned friend, a growing, resolute disciple. "She had faults, but more like foibles, and we shan't here speak of them, because they pale intorelative insignificance in consideration of the good she soconstantly radiated. "

I rode to the grave site with Dr. and Mrs. Harold Byers,themselvesclose friends to the Adamses.We spokeofourlove for her, of her goodness, of the family and how faithfulthey were, of the good work she and Connie had donethrough the years. The funeral entourage must have been a mile long. The day was bright

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e and sunny, the grass was that special Spring shade of green. The people huddled around the grave and we alllistened to the word, prayed, wept together. And then weleft.

It is not at all difficult to turn yourmind toward more soberand serious things when in the presence of death. As I flewback to Jackson the nextmorning I ponderedover the eventsof the preceding day. I thought about Connie, about his lovefor truth and honor, and how he so loved Bobbie. Her story hasbeen told, I thought, but not all. She willlive on through the work of her loving husband, her fine family, her grandchildren.

Bobbie, Sweet, sweet Bobbie. We will remember you, dearsister.

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Bobbie wrote this piece in December, 1972 and it appeared anonymously in TRUTHMAGAZINE in March, 1973 and then under her name in SEARCHING THE SCRIPTURES in March, 1978. It prompted much commendation each time it appeared. Weldon E. Warnock read excerpts from it at the funeral and there havebeen many requests for the entire article. I know of no better way to close this special issue than to let her speak forherself. Indeed, she being dead, yet speaks. )

Tonight is the 23rd of December. In another week a newyear will be upon us. It naturally is a time for reflectionand a time to count our blessings. We are blessed becausewe live in America and are free to worship God in the way hecommanded us; we are blessed because we have plenty toeat and warm houses in which to live while people in otherparts of the world are starving. But there is one blessingthat I share with relatively few in this world. It is a blessing that I prize very highly and one that I am thankfulGod gave me the freedom and opportunity to choose—I amblessed in that I chose to become a preacher's wife.

I can almost hear some now saying: "That's a strange thing to say. She must be offher rocker in someway. Apreacher's wife can't be thankful or call that a blessing. Why she isoften criticized and put on the spot. Her husband is oftengone for days at a time and she is alone. Her children are inthe spotlight and their actions minutely inspected. Preachersnever make much money or have fine houses. They mustmove every so often. How can she call that a blessing?

Yes, I can hear all these comments, even though unspoken. And I grant that most of them are true. But I stillcount it a blessing. Until recently, I never gave it muchthought. I just went along from day to day doing whathad tobe done. However, some recent events have prompted me toreflect on this blessing. Perhaps my reflections can help a few others to appreciate their lot in life a little more andalso cause others to choose this way, if the choice presentsitself.

Recently, I have heard some voice the opinion that theydid notwant to be a preacher'swife or that they did notwanttheir girl to become a preacher's wife. I have heard of boyswho want to give up preaching because their sweetheartsdid not want to be preachers' wives. You know, I nevergave that a whole lot of thought.

Maybe my mother wishes I had; but if so, she never spokethat thought. She did tell me that she wanted me to helpmake my husband a good one. Those of you who know himcan judge how well I succeeded!

What is the life of a preacher's wife really like? There areothers who have been "at it" far longer than I and who could tell far more about it, I am sure; but tonight let megive you some of my thoughts.

It will soon be twenty-three years since I decided to takethat "giant step" and I never have been sorry for oneminute. It has not always been smooth sailing or an easycourse to follow. I have made a lot of mistakes—for these, Iam truly sorry—but God forgives a preacher's wife on the same basis he forgives anyone else. The brethren where wehave lived have "put up with, " encouraged, laughed and even cried with use on various occasions. For this, I amgrateful. Without their help, I never could have made it, I suppose.

I do not believe that I was consciously trained to becomea preacher's wife. However, I never was discouraged. It justnever really concerned me too much one way or the other.We had preachers in our family (though all are either dead orliberal now), and when we could all get together, it was awonderful time. I am sure that when I left to go to FloridaCollege in 1949 the thought must have occurred to myparents that I might marry a preacher, since that institutionwas (and is) well known for the marriages that are createdthere. I am an "only child" and when I left for college it wasfor good, except for short, infrequent visits. That is not theway I would like for it to be. However, because of our work ithas had to be like that. So, being an only child is no excusefor not becoming a preacher's wife.

Nextweek is the fifteenth birthdayof our older son. Someof you will remember where he was born. Not in some comfortable American hospital in my hometown, to be sure.No, he was born in a University hospital in Bergen,Norway, thousands of miles from either of our homes and parents, with a doctor who was a Communist and nurse and attendants who did speak or understand English. It was notan easy time. We had few friends there then, having beenin Norway only four months. At the time, I came as close tonot caring about anything as I ever have. But I thank God that I did not entirely give in. Even then, I did not regretbeing a preacher'swife. What I am sayingisthis: There maybe times when you, as a preacher's wife, will have to leavethis country. It is almost a certainty that you will have toleave your hometown and parents. But as Jesus said in Luke

14: 26 "If any man cometh unto me, and hateth not hisfather, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren,and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be mydisciple. "

This is a time of protest and discontent. The youngergeneration are critics of the older generation. They say weare materialistic. But I just wonder what it is when a boy decides not to preach because the girl he wants to marryjust does not want to move around every so often, or doesnot want to leave her parents or her hometown. She wantsthe security of a job and a house

in one locality all her life. Is this materialism? What else?

Preachers' wives are not a special breed. Why, God didnot even give us special admonitions as he did the wives ofelders and deacons. We have the same admonitions as all other women. However, there are a few commands whichcertainly pertain to a preacher's wife.

As with other Christians, we dare not gossip or beartales. No Christian should do this. Certainly not a preacher's wife. She is in a position to know things aboutother Christians which do not need to be made public.Things are said to her in confidence and she needs to beable to keep such knowledge to herself, lest it hurt the person, her husband, and even the congregation. In fact,some things her husband should not even tell her. If I had any one piece of advice to give any girl who is about tomarry a preacher, it would be, "Keep your mouth shut!"Neither is it her business to advertise decisions that the elders make, or for that matter, to try to tell the elders orher husband which decisions to make.

And which of us has not at some time engaged in a littleself-pity? Some are more prone to this than others. But aChristian has no right or need to do this. We are called toserve God wherever and whenever we can. The preacher'swife cannot afford self-pity. There will often be times whenher husband will be called away to the hospital to sit with afamily during an operation; or to a funeral home after asudden death; or to a person's home during a trying timewhen a marriage is on the brink of failure; or even to a localjail to help somebody in trouble. She must wait at home witha supper pushed to the back of the stove or in the oven. Or,he may be gone for several days at a time in a gospelmeeting clear across the country, or to a lectureship, or to adebate. Maybe he will even be involved in his work halfway around the world.

I have never asked my husband not to go where hethought hewas needed forGod's work. Yet,Imust confessthat I came close in 1971 when he and J. T. Smith decided to go to the Philippine Islands. I knew there would be physical danger involved in such a trip; it would mean thatthe children and I would be alone for an entire month. What if one of the children got seriously ill? Or what if I becamesick? However, I agreed that he should go. In fact, I knew hewould go before he even finished telling me of the need. Forsome reason, I have always believed that it was up to me tolet him go and that it was up to God to take care of him. Sofar, it has worked out thatway. How glad I amnow that heand brother Smith went. Because of their efforts and the efforts of others who have gone, the brethren there havebeen helped immensely. By mail, I have come to knowmany of those people. They have had many difficulties andtroubles which many of us would find unbearable. Would Ibe willing for him to go again? You bet I would!

Congregations often expect too much of the preacher's wife. They seem to think that for some reasonthey "own" her and should be able to tell her what to

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do and how to do it. This attitude can cause problems. Let me hurriedly and thankfully say that I have never reallyfaced this problem. The congregations where we have worked have been very considerate along this line; but I doknow that such things have happened. Just because thechurch owns the house in which the preacher lives or paysthe rent for him, does not give the members the right to tellthe wife how to run her house. This is their home for the time that they live there.

Neither does the congregation "hire" the preacher's wife. For the first twenty years we were married, I did a lot ofsecretarial work for my husband and the church. I knew howto do such work and was glad to do it. With one exception, Ihave never been paid for such work. However, congregation has no right to expect more from a preacherwife along this line than from any other woman in the congregation.

A preacher is not always as well paid as some in this life.He does not have many fringe benefits which workers in plants or offices have. Few churches pay social security,health insurance premiums, or pension plans. Yet, I do notknow of many churches that will deny a preacher an extraday off at a holiday season or fail to continue his salaryduring a long, drawn-out illness. Though your daughtermay not always have the "most" in this life, you can restassured that there are fringe benefits which few others willever have.

What am I talking about? For one thing: friends. Yes, ourfriends—from Maine to California; Washington to Florida;in Canada, Norway and the Philippines. We would not tradethese acquaintances for any amount of money on earth.These are people with whom we have worked through theyears and who now have scattered around the country andthe world. They include preachers, and yes, their wives.They include sons and daughters of preachers who have grown up and married in the past few years. Whole congregations are included. These are all brothers and sisters in Christ, and all of them are (or should be) strivingtoward the same goal—an eternal home in heaven. These friends are the finest people on earth.

These "preacher-wife" years have meant a broader education for my children and me than would have been

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possible had we always lived in the same place. How elsecould we have seen the midnight sun of Norway; the snow ofnortheastOhio;the blastoff of a rocketatCape Kennedy; therock-bound coast of Maine; the lakes of Ontario; thecathedral of Worms, Germany where Martin Luther tookhis stand? I do not mean for this to sound as if we have been to these places just for the fun of traveling. That is not it atall. The work came first and that is what took us to these places, but I would be foolish to let you think that it did notbenefit our lives. It has even helped our children in theirschool work.

One of the greatest fringe benefits is being the constantrecipients of the prayers of the congregation. Who else has

a God's blessing invoked upon them in public prayers as

's much as the preacher and his family?Most of all, a preacher's wife develops a better understanding of people and a desire to have a part in the saving oftheir souls. Whocould describe the frameof minda preacher is in after someone has obeyed the gospel, or awayward church member has repented, or some evidence isseen of good resulting from your husband's efforts? Could it just be that I did have some part in making thatpossible? Ifso, then it hasbeen worth it after all.

IN THE NEWS THIS MONTH
BAPTISMS 202
RESTORATIONS 84
(Taken from bulletins and papers received by the editor)