Demerits!

Mother’s Day has caused me to reflect upon the high cost of raising boys.  Recently, I saw a PBS special on Dwight Eisenhower. He entered West Point at 21 to play football and get a free education. He had no military career in mind.

Then, he hurt his knee and his football career was over. Devastated, he became despondent.  He recovered enough to graduate, but that was about all he did. He showed no academic promise. He was among those, who had received the most demerits. Here was a 25-year-old man at the U. S. Military Academy—and he has disciplinary problems.

Then, maturity began to kick in. He married. His wife bore him a son. Heading into his thirties, he began to treat his military service seriously. It became a career to him.

Slowly, he rose through the ranks. Upper level officers began seeing his gifts for organization. He entered Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas and graduated first in his class. By his mid-fifties, he had completed leading the greatest collection of armed forces in the history of the world.

Still, I think about his mother. What did she think when she got reports that her 25-year-old single (unusual for that era) son was having disciplinary issues at West Point? I suppose she had to summon what most mothers have in the history of the world—patience. But they usually do.

Do mothers self-generate this discipline? I think not. I believe their creator instilled it within them. The Creator is the patient one (see II Pet. 3:15 for an example).

Who do we see more patient than a mother? No one—except for God.

The Patient Warrior

Not being a math whiz myself, I appreciated a story I read a few years ago. A young man traveled to St. Louis to take the entrance exam to West Point. He was from a poor farming family, and his hopes for a college education hinged upon an appointment to the military academy.

Upon his arrival, he learned he would be competing with twelve other young men. His chief competition, much to his chagrin, had been preparing for the exam for over a year!

The exam was to take four days, each subject lasting four hours. The exam on algebra was the major obstacle for this young man. It was mandatory to solve 67 percent of the problems. After two hours, he had solved only 20 percent. Discouraged and convinced he was a complete failure, he picked up his papers and walked to the desk of the officer in charge, ready to hand them in. He had wasted everyone’s time, including his own. He was going home, ready to spend the rest of his life farming.

Arriving at the desk, the young man noticed the officer completely focused on a book he was reading. He did not want to disturb the officer, so he returned to his desk and decided he might as well try one more time.

Then, something happened. The young man began to recall the theorems he had studied. He became enthusiastic and hopeful. After four hours, he had completed more than the necessary 67 percent. The rest of the exams were tough, yet the young man pressed on.

Last week, I saw the grave of that young man in Arlington National Cemetery. The tombstone had five stars on it. Omar Bradley, received his appointment to West Point, became a hero of World War II, and grew to be one of the most beloved and revered generals in military history.

During his entrance exams, Omar Bradley found temptation to quit. He grew frustrated and his emotions told him to leave. Yet, he remained patient, overcame his emotions, and he persevered.

Omar Bradley defied the military stereotype. Consequently, I find Prov. 16:32 particularly fitting to him—and ironic:

32 Better a patient man than a warrior,
a man who controls his temper than one who takes a city.

Omar Bradley was a patient man (who held his emotions in check), a warrior, and he took a city---many in fact.