One Man's Search for God: A Retrospective on Divine Providence

By Rex L. Sample

How does a Christian, whose faith has been shaken by a highly secularized world, find his way back to faith?

This book traces the autobiographical journey of one man’s search for God and then attempts to help other Christians who have lost their way, find their way back to the Father.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781973672975

Rex L. Sample

Rex was educated at Nebraska Wesleyan University, Garrett Biblical Institute, in Evanston, IL, and Iliff School of Theology in Denver, CO. He has had a wide range of experience in the secular world, in addition to his many years of service as a Christian minister. His experience in the secular world has given him an insight into the sometimes dysfunctional schisms within the community of faith.

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One Man’s Search for God

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A Retrospective On Divine Providence

An Autobiography by

Rex L. Sample

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Copyright © 2019 Rex L. Sample.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

WestBow Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-7296-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-7370-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-7297-5 (e)

WestBow Press rev. date: 9/4/2019

This book is dedicated to the memory of Reverend Walter Jewett, who played such a significant role in my life story.

Contents

Preface

1     Remembering My Ancestors

2     My Early Years

3     An Awakening

4     My High School Years

5     So This Is College

6     Look Before You Leap

7     Learning to Swim

8     Becoming an Entrepreneur

9     Following My Heart

10   When Family Comes First

11   Remember You Are an Entreprenuer

12   Returning to My Hearts Desire

13   A Retrospective on Divine Providence

14   Finding Your Way to the Father

Preface

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SUNDAY MORNING IN OUR comfortable retirement cottage in Camp Verde, Arizona. My daughter, Terri, was here visiting from Phoenix. It has been 4 years since I retired as Pastor from Munds Park Community Church in Munds Park, Arizona, and now at age 85 some pressing health issues have prompted me to think about what God would want me to do with the last chapter of my life. There is nothing very productive about sitting in your reclining chair and reading or watching television.

For a number of years my children, as well as my other friends and church members have urged me to write a book. A compilation of my sermons was suggested as a possibility. Others thought my life itself was sufficiently interesting to warrant an autobiography. With my daughter, Terri, getting ready to return to Phoenix, the subject came up again. Why don’t you want to write an autobiography? She asked. My response surprised even me. Because I am intimidated by what I would have to reveal I said. When she seemed confused by my answer, I explained. In order for an autobiography to have any meaning, other than self-gratification, it must be brutally honest. That is fraught with peril. All your pimples will be on full display. Your failures and foibles must take equal footing with your accomplishments and virtues. Terri paused for a moment and then responded. Dad, don’t you realize that those who love you will not be dismayed to learn that you are human: and if you have critics out there, they are going to think what they want no matter what you say. I think the only thing you need to ask yourself is why you want to write an autobiography; and then say what you want to say. After hugs and tears, she headed back to Phoenix.

After praying about it some more, I decided to try. If it doesn’t come together there is no harm done. If it does come together, it may help countless others in their search to find a meaningful relationship with God. It is for that reason I have chosen to call my autobiography, One Man’s Search for God; A Retrospective on Divine Providence.

As I look back over my life, it has become increasingly apparent to me that in each chapter of my life there was an underlying element of Divine Providence that was helping to shape events. Sometimes that is not at all apparent, especially to the casual observer. It only really begins to show itself when you are able to look at a much larger picture; and then, perhaps, only to one who believes in Divine Providence as evidence of God’s activity in the world.

I claim no special privilege for God’s favor. It is my firm conviction that all who call upon God in sincere and heartfelt adoration will be treated equally as one of His divine creations. Those whose belief systems have not allowed them to do this have only cheated themselves and deprived themselves of the most rewarding of all of life’s experiences. I pity them.

It would be impossible to tell my story without starting at the very beginning and leading you through each chapter of my life. In doing this, I will endeavor to be as candid and honest as I can without doing damage to any innocents along the way. Such candor will inevitably result in some embarrassing moments; but when we are wrong, as we all occasionally are, we should be embarrassed. When we are wrong, knowingly or unwittingly, I believe we are judged by what we do to remedy our mistake. Life has a way of throwing us many curve balls, to use a baseball metaphor, and we may not always hit the ball cleanly. When that happens, we have a moral imperative to set it right. To do less would offend the One we are relying upon for preserving our eternal soul.

It is this moral imperative that sets Christians and all other theists apart from agnostics and atheists. There seems to be a growing number who question the existence of God. They are caught on the horns of the dilemma created by the differences between the science and faith communities. The faith community holds tenaciously to the Biblical narrative of creation, the science community believes man evolved from the soup of original creation. It’s important to note that they don’t explain from whence came their soup. How does SOMETHING evolve from NOTHING? Try wrapping your mind around that concept. That is especially difficult when we behold every day a universe that is so complex. It is composed of thousands of galaxies and a sense of order that boggles our imagination; from the intricacies of millions of insects and other lower life forms to the majesty of man. We marvel at the ability of birds to find their way thousands of miles to the south and then return again to the same nest they used last year. We wonder at dolphins who use sonar for guidance or the miracle of hibernation used by many species. One would think that biologists, as well as other scientists, would be forced to conclude that the existence of God becomes a logical necessity. Of course they might ask If in the beginning there was nothing except God, then where did God come from? The truth is that even though the greatest minds in history have pondered that question, no one has found the answer. I believe that no one will. Faith nurtured by the Holy Spirit becomes our window to divine reality.

Even if we see the existence of God as a logical necessity, our acceptance of that reality becomes a matter of faith. As the Apostle Paul said; Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things unseen. (Hebrews 11:1) It is only as that faith takes root in our heart and we truly believe in those things unseen that we develop the ability to establish a meaningful relationship with that unseen God. It is a relationship that grows stronger with time and continually renews our confidence that this is the true reality. It is because of this faith that there is a moral and loving God who knows us intimately and knows our every thought and action that we are compelled to follow the dictates of our faith and the commands of the one we accept as the Son of the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ. If we truly believe, it affects every aspect of our lives; our business dealings; our interaction with our neighbors; our relationships within our family and with our spouses; and, yes, even the way we fill out our tax forms.

Compare that with what happens to the agnostic or the atheist. If there is no God and no judgment, then it’s every man for himself. Let’s get all we can and pursue a life that is filled with as much pleasure as we can muster. When it’s over, it’s over. There is no tomorrow. That was the philosophy of the Hedonists in early centuries. Hedonism flourished in Rome and Greece through the middle ages and I believe that is where many are today.

It may be that there are many fine people who are agnostics that have responded positively to the culture and social mores of their community. As a result they may do many good and worthwhile things .They may head up public projects; serve as politicians; do charitable work or many other worthwhile things. However, their world view dictates that almost everything must be self-serving. Behind closed doors they seek to promote themselves. What difference does it make if I cheat a little bit in my business dealings? It’s permissible to bend the truth a little bit as long as I get away with it. Even if it’s a substantive lie, if it works to my benefit, it’s alright. If I cheat on my taxes, who cares? Doesn’t everybody do it? If you doubt what I am saying, I suggest you look at today’s news headlines, or any day’s headlines. If you don’t see it there you are blind.

These are the predicates upon which I wish to build as we take this journey together. Each person’s search for God will be different and if you are a believer your search may not parallel my own. My hope is this chronicle of my experience will be helpful to your spiritual journey and I trust you will find it interesting.

I was born on July 1, 1933. That means that my history begins long before most of you were even a glimmer in your mother’s eye. As we travel together, we will be sidetracking along the way to give you a glimpse into the life and culture of that generation. If you are a fan of some of the old television shows like Little House on the Prairie, or the myriad of western series, you already have a picture of that time. You may learn a few additional things from my account.

Whenever it is important, I will be pointing to what I believe is evidence of the theme of this discourse, Divine Providence. You will be able to judge for yourselves. I pray it may help you find a more meaningful relationship with Almighty God for yourself, and through you, for those you love and care about. God’s love and comforting power becomes ever more powerful as we are able to pass it on. As the poet has said, God has no hands but our hands to do his work today; He has no feet but our feet to lead men to His way. God bless each one of you. May God’s love live and grow in your heart as we take this journey together.

1

Remembering My Ancestors

AS I BEGIN RECREATING MY SEARCH FOR GOD AND A meaningful relationship with the Father who created us, it is essential to remember my earthly ancestors. I was fortunate to have a reasonably good reservoir of information to be able to validate and verify most of what I needed to know about my ancestry. I feel very sorry for the growing number of people who grow up without much knowledge about their history. Broken homes and births out of wedlock are at all-time highs, leaving many only to wonder about their ancestry. So while some of what I am about to tell you may be of little interest to the readers outside my family and circle of friends, it is important. It is important academically and intellectually to know our roots. If I were a racehorse, the first thing the potential owner would want to know is my breeding. He would be very impressed if my sire was Secretariat or any of the Triple Crown winners; other equine fathers might be less impressive. Yet the reality is that many of those others may prove to be better racehorses then those sired by the Triple Crown winners. History has proven that to be true.

Let me say up front that I do not claim any special favor for being related to royalty or publicly famous people. You are hearing from a very common man who comes from a very common heritage. I guess I can claim a very distant birthright for being related on my father’s side to John Alden and Rebecca, who came to America on the Mayflower and helped found Plymouth Colony. However, that was four centuries ago, and while it may give our children the right to claim membership in the organizations founded as a part of the Mayflower Society, it has limited meaning for today. I make this point because I am confident, beyond doubt, that God has little concern for where we came from or what our earthly circumstances might be. Whoever you are reading this right now, you are as eligible to receive God’s favor and blessing as the pope or any of the pastors or ministers that attempt to seek Him out daily. You and I are on a common path. .

My father was born Lloyd Edward Southard in 1896 in Enid, Oklahoma. He was the son of Attison Southard and Etta Shaw. While we do not know all the circumstances or exact dates, we do know that Lloyd’s mother and Mr. Southard were divorced and she later remarried a man named John Sample. Lloyd was raised by Mr. Sample, and after being officially adopted, he chose to use his stepfather’s name.

We did a genealogy search on Attison Southard and were able to uncover some interesting facts. He served in the military and fought in the Spanish-American War in Cuba. There was a rumor that he married the widow of a wealthy plantation owner in Cuba; but, that is unconfirmed. We do know that he spent the last few years of his life in a veterans’ retirement home in Springfield, Illinois. He is buried in their cemetery. A few years ago, my brother, Buddy, made a trip there to see the gravesite and take pictures for our family’s historical record. Our research also confirmed that Mr. Southard was our connection to John Alden.

We don’t know when, or exactly why, but Mr. Sample ended up in Hutchison, Kansas. Lloyd sent most of his growing-up years there, along with his sister, Mercedes. I recall meeting her one time. When I was about three years old, she visited us in Sidney, Nebraska. All I really remember is that she came bearing gifts. Mine was a truck, and I thought it was the nicest gift I had ever had. I remember Father talking about the fact that she was able to have piano lessons. In those days, only girls were considered eligible to play the piano. Boys needed to be concerned with manly things. My father always resented that because he liked the piano. He said he used to listen to what she learned in her lesson and then, when he was alone, he tried to duplicate it. I do know this. He wowed us every time he sat down at a piano. What little piano I play I learned from him, yet he never had a lesson.

At this point, the family history becomes more complicated and convoluted. I need to begin with my mother’s history and then bring the two together. Mother was born Opal Glee Muhr in 1900, the daughter of John William Muhr of Redington, Nebraska. She was the second-eldest daughter of nine children, five boys and four girls. Perhaps my bias is showing, but I would insist that she was the prettiest of the Muhr daughters. Born at the turn of the century, she would not quite live to see a new century, which was her hope. But in her ninety-four years, she made an indelible mark on my life and all those she touched. She was one of those very special people whose commitment to her religious faith and her compassion and empathy for others caused her to be loved by everyone who knew her.

During my childhood years, we had almost no relationship with anyone on Dad’s side of the family, but on Mother’s side, it was almost continual. Perhaps that was because they were closer to us, or because on Dad’s side there was only Mercedes and her children, and they lived way down in Texas. Family reunions on Mother’s side were always attended by dozens of people. I think John Muhr must have been related to almost everyone in Morrill County, or so it seemed to me. Most of these reunions were held at a place called Bonners Grove. It was a picnic and camping area not far from Redington. They had a baseball park and other amenities. Just about everybody in the family enjoyed and played baseball. I was too young to participate, but, I enjoyed watching all of them play. In one game, Uncle Cecil stood at the plate for what seemed an eternity hitting foul balls that all went to the right. Finally, he connected on one and hit a double. Strange the little things that stick in our memories.

One thing I definitely remember is the food. No king’s table could be more sumptuous. It may well be that my remembrance of those picnics is colored by the passing of time, but, if I exaggerate, it is not by much. There were always a half-dozen kinds of pie. This has always been one of my weaknesses. My aunt Beryl made a coconut cream pie to delight the taste buds. I remember on one of our trips to her house in Alliance, Nebraska, I ate three pieces. Knowing me and my brothers’ love of her pie, she had made four pies. She offered me another slice, but my conscience would not allow it. Later, I wished I had said yes. The large Muhr family brought all kinds of meat dishes and casseroles, and some of them would barbecue. Every picnic ended with huge slices of watermelon, usually offered up later in the day after recovering from a gluttonous afternoon meal. The watermelon was grown locally. Nebraska watermelon rivals the best in the world. It was always sweet and juicy. It was not like what we have been able to buy in the store in recent years.

John Muhr immigrated to the United States from Germany in the 1870s, entering the country legally via Ellis Island. Once here, he did everything according to the book. He learned the language, studied the immigration materials and proudly became a citizen of the United States. Then, he did the most important thing, he assimilated into the culture. I do not ever remember hearing him speak German. He undoubtedly knew it, but only English was spoken in the home. In every respect, John and his children were red, white, and blue Americans.

I feel compelled to take a minute to comment on the subject of immigration. The immigration debate is one of the hot topics of the day. It is creating a lot of division in our country. I think it is important to look to our history and understand what our founders envisioned. Unfortunately, inept or biased teachers, marginal school districts, and, highly politicized administrators have created a generation of young people who are woefully ignorant of their history. According to a study entitled A survey on patriotism in America reported by CBS news in November of 2018, this generation of millennials is the least patriotic, the most secular, and the most anti-American in our history. That study claimed that 47% of that age group were no longer proud to be Americans. They believe we are a racist nation and burning the American flag is acceptable. They are part of a larger group that seem determined to tear down our monuments and rewrite our history. We have allowed this to happen.

My purpose here is not to reignite the immigration debate, but I feel compelled to express my opinion about it. It is my firm belief that if we continue to permit pockets of counterculture to foster within our borders, we will live to regret it. I point, for example, to news reports of agitation within the Muslim communities around Dearborn, Michigan, to institute Sharia law for their own community. There is some dispute over those reports, but if they are true this would be an anathema to all constitutionalists. Our constitution and Bill of Rights are the polar opposites of Sharia. If those coming here are unwilling to learn the language and do not wish to share our values, they do not deserve to be called citizens. Let’s look at what one of America’s heroes had to say on the subject. This is Teddy Roosevelt speaking in 1907.

We should insist that if the immigrant comes here in good faith, becomes an American, and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person’s becoming in every facet an American. There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn’t an American at all. WE HAVE ROOM FOR BUT ONE FLAG, THE AMERICAN FLAG. WE HAVE ROOM FOR BUT ONE LANGUAGE, AND THAT IS THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE … AND WE HAVE ROOM FOR BUT ONE SOLE LOYALTY AND THAT IS A LOYALTY TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.

They march every year in California carrying the flag of Mexico. There are many other examples around the country. The New York Yankees and the Philadelphia Flyers have both had a tradition of playing God Bless America at each of their games for the past 60 years. Recently, under pressure from well-organized leftist groups, they both caved and discontinued using