Part One: Formative Years
There is a story behind the making of every man. This is my story. I was born in 1957, at the end of the baby boomer generation. My parents were Anne and Vincent Chapman from West Virginia. I was born in West Virginia in the town of Richwood. My father had been trained as a school teacher but was managing a filling station, trying to make a go of being a business man. My mom was eager to leave the state, and finally Dad complied. When I was still a baby, we moved to Akron, Ohio, and Dad took up teaching. I was to be the oldest son of five children. We lived a basic middle-class life style without many frills. My father paid little attention to us as children; as he put it, he had children all day long in the classroom, and he needed a break from kids. My mom was never happy during my childhood, and as a result there was constant turmoil in the home. I think the story of my childhood is a common story for those living in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Ultimately my folks were divorced, and our family was split. This affected each of my siblings differently, but the affects on my life by these events were significant.
I was saved at the age of seven, and during my early life I was keenly aware of God and His presence in my life. This is not to say that I was a good child or a bad one, but I was aware of God. I was constantly witnessing about what God did in my life and telling others about Christ. The day after I was saved, I told the Catholic boy next door about Christ and tried to convince him to be saved. Anyone who knew me, even through high school, knew I was a Christian; they would have heard from me the plan of salvation. I carried my Bible to school and gave tracts to those who would take them. Even so, I was in danger of being swept aside by my circumstances. There were several people that took interest in me, and God used them to help me through those difficult times.
I had attended the Akron Baptist Temple during my developmental years; that church had a definite impact on my life. My pastor was Dr. Dallas F. Billington. I loved this man and had the greatest respect for him. Inside of me there was a desire to be just like him and serve God like he did. I regret that I never got to know him as a man, because he died when I was in ninth grade. Dr. Charles Billington became my pastor, and I transferred much of that admiration to him. At the Temple there were many programs and classes for youth. In my opinion, the Baptist Temple had more for youth than any church I have ever attended. There were many people that had an impact on my life there, but I can only mention a few.
There was an elderly man there by the name of George Moore. George and his wife had no children of their own, so George worked with the youth programs and Sunday Schools; I became one of George’s kids. I was in the youth group that he led, but I got close to him when he became my counselor at our church-owned youth camp, Ohio Baptist Acres. I was about 13 at the time; I was a very shy young man. However, George saw something in me, and from that time on I was his personal assistant. This is significant because I’m one of those people most folks don’t look twice at. Even today people come to the camp and see everything going on and then comment on what a hard worker my wife is. I don’t begrudge my wife those comments; she is the hardest working person I know, except for her mother. But it does illustrate that I have never stood out and still don’t, not even in my own ministry. The first time I prayed in public was at George’s insistence. He was there when I taught my first lesson. He inspired me to become a Sunday school teacher at 18 years of age. When God called me to preach, only George expected it and encouraged me to go to school. I was so shy, my youth director thought I should reconsider my calling. However, George knew I was going to be a preacher, and he encouraged me to press on. The cause of Christ in Moldova owes George Moore more than it can possibly know. I am here today because of this godly layman.
There is another side of the picture that cannot be ignored when you look at my early life. Family is so important to one’s outlook and stability of mind. My family was in shambles. My parents did not divorce until I was in college, but the affect of an unstable home affected all of us under that roof. I sought refuge in the church and with my friends. God was good to me to give me godly friends at an early age. Some of my best friends then, and to this day, were the Spencer family, headed by Darl and Mildred. I was friends with the two Spencer boys who were near the same age as I was. The family was from West Virginia, and the spirit of their home was just the opposite of my home. The most wonderful thing about the Spencers was their openness to the youth of our church. We all felt we had a home there whenever we needed it. I spent many evenings there when I could not bear the thought of going home to a fight. I had become so regular in my visits that they would leave me food in the evening; Darl Spencer would say, “There’s deer steak on the table.” They would make extra just for me - or so it would seem. He would let me stay as long as I needed to. Many nights Darl would tell me to lock up after I leave because they were going to bed; they never threw me out or asked me to leave. I was almost like a member of the family. There were other boys from the church that felt the same way, and many nights there were several of us there at the same time. Darl became like a father to me. He took me hunting, on outings, and taught me about things I never learned at home. I preached his funeral a few years ago, and I will never forget him or his family. I am as close to them as my own parents or siblings. To this day I am treated as a son or brother. I survived those turbulent times because of their love.
One other contribution to my life must be mentioned. My grandparents on my father’s side prayed for me often. My grandfather, Rev. John D. Chapman, was a servant of God. He was a circuit riding preacher, church planter, and evangelist. It is my understanding that he had a great ministry years ago in the central hill country of West Virginia. I believe that God honored my grandfather with one grandson that would become a preacher. However, I also believe that he and my grandmother prayed for me with fervency. On more than one occasion my grandmother told me that she and my grandfather lifted me up in prayer daily. God surely used the prayers of my grandparents as a force in my life to keep me closer to the Throne of Grace. Their example of prayer still encourages me today, as does George Moore’s instruction and encouragement and the Spencer’s love.
There is a story behind the making of every man. This is my story. I was born in 1957, at the end of the baby boomer generation. My parents were Anne and Vincent Chapman from West Virginia. I was born in West Virginia in the town of Richwood. My father had been trained as a school teacher but was managing a filling station, trying to make a go of being a business man. My mom was eager to leave the state, and finally Dad complied. When I was still a baby, we moved to Akron, Ohio, and Dad took up teaching. I was to be the oldest son of five children. We lived a basic middle-class life style without many frills. My father paid little attention to us as children; as he put it, he had children all day long in the classroom, and he needed a break from kids. My mom was never happy during my childhood, and as a result there was constant turmoil in the home. I think the story of my childhood is a common story for those living in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Ultimately my folks were divorced, and our family was split. This affected each of my siblings differently, but the affects on my life by these events were significant.
I was saved at the age of seven, and during my early life I was keenly aware of God and His presence in my life. This is not to say that I was a good child or a bad one, but I was aware of God. I was constantly witnessing about what God did in my life and telling others about Christ. The day after I was saved, I told the Catholic boy next door about Christ and tried to convince him to be saved. Anyone who knew me, even through high school, knew I was a Christian; they would have heard from me the plan of salvation. I carried my Bible to school and gave tracts to those who would take them. Even so, I was in danger of being swept aside by my circumstances. There were several people that took interest in me, and God used them to help me through those difficult times.
I had attended the Akron Baptist Temple during my developmental years; that church had a definite impact on my life. My pastor was Dr. Dallas F. Billington. I loved this man and had the greatest respect for him. Inside of me there was a desire to be just like him and serve God like he did. I regret that I never got to know him as a man, because he died when I was in ninth grade. Dr. Charles Billington became my pastor, and I transferred much of that admiration to him. At the Temple there were many programs and classes for youth. In my opinion, the Baptist Temple had more for youth than any church I have ever attended. There were many people that had an impact on my life there, but I can only mention a few.
There was an elderly man there by the name of George Moore. George and his wife had no children of their own, so George worked with the youth programs and Sunday Schools; I became one of George’s kids. I was in the youth group that he led, but I got close to him when he became my counselor at our church-owned youth camp, Ohio Baptist Acres. I was about 13 at the time; I was a very shy young man. However, George saw something in me, and from that time on I was his personal assistant. This is significant because I’m one of those people most folks don’t look twice at. Even today people come to the camp and see everything going on and then comment on what a hard worker my wife is. I don’t begrudge my wife those comments; she is the hardest working person I know, except for her mother. But it does illustrate that I have never stood out and still don’t, not even in my own ministry. The first time I prayed in public was at George’s insistence. He was there when I taught my first lesson. He inspired me to become a Sunday school teacher at 18 years of age. When God called me to preach, only George expected it and encouraged me to go to school. I was so shy, my youth director thought I should reconsider my calling. However, George knew I was going to be a preacher, and he encouraged me to press on. The cause of Christ in Moldova owes George Moore more than it can possibly know. I am here today because of this godly layman.
There is another side of the picture that cannot be ignored when you look at my early life. Family is so important to one’s outlook and stability of mind. My family was in shambles. My parents did not divorce until I was in college, but the affect of an unstable home affected all of us under that roof. I sought refuge in the church and with my friends. God was good to me to give me godly friends at an early age. Some of my best friends then, and to this day, were the Spencer family, headed by Darl and Mildred. I was friends with the two Spencer boys who were near the same age as I was. The family was from West Virginia, and the spirit of their home was just the opposite of my home. The most wonderful thing about the Spencers was their openness to the youth of our church. We all felt we had a home there whenever we needed it. I spent many evenings there when I could not bear the thought of going home to a fight. I had become so regular in my visits that they would leave me food in the evening; Darl Spencer would say, “There’s deer steak on the table.” They would make extra just for me - or so it would seem. He would let me stay as long as I needed to. Many nights Darl would tell me to lock up after I leave because they were going to bed; they never threw me out or asked me to leave. I was almost like a member of the family. There were other boys from the church that felt the same way, and many nights there were several of us there at the same time. Darl became like a father to me. He took me hunting, on outings, and taught me about things I never learned at home. I preached his funeral a few years ago, and I will never forget him or his family. I am as close to them as my own parents or siblings. To this day I am treated as a son or brother. I survived those turbulent times because of their love.
One other contribution to my life must be mentioned. My grandparents on my father’s side prayed for me often. My grandfather, Rev. John D. Chapman, was a servant of God. He was a circuit riding preacher, church planter, and evangelist. It is my understanding that he had a great ministry years ago in the central hill country of West Virginia. I believe that God honored my grandfather with one grandson that would become a preacher. However, I also believe that he and my grandmother prayed for me with fervency. On more than one occasion my grandmother told me that she and my grandfather lifted me up in prayer daily. God surely used the prayers of my grandparents as a force in my life to keep me closer to the Throne of Grace. Their example of prayer still encourages me today, as does George Moore’s instruction and encouragement and the Spencer’s love.
1 comment:
Eric: thoroughly enjoyed reading your blog! Brought back many memories of our days at ABT and OBA. God has certainly blessed you, your family and your ministry. Keep up the good work! Laurel Johnson
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