This
week would have marked the 70th birthday of Steven Glenn Gates on August 3.
Steve was larger than life in his living and his love for his family. That
twinkle in his eye, as well as his million-dollar grin, and booming voice were
classic Steve Gates qualities. Anyone who knew him very well was quite aware
that the first time he met Barbara Jean Clark she had his heart lock, stock and
barrel. Prior to Steve’s death, Barbara and I collaborated on the article
below. It was originally published in Mature Living in March of 2010.School Photo of Steve taken
during his days at Liberty
Elementary School in Ponca
City, Okalahoma. from the
collection of Bernyce Gates.
By Barbara
Clark Gates as told to Bernadean Gates
We had endured some trying years. My
husband, Steve, was diagnosed with a brain tumor in the fall of 2003. He had
recuperated rapidly and responded to the therapy, for which we gave God the
glory.
Then, in February 2004, our oldest son,
Clark, was killed in a car wreck. God sustained us during that crushing time
through the prayers of our church family and friends. Steve and I were
especially strengthened by people who had also experienced the death of a
child. These parents empathized with our grief-stricken state and understood
the dark path we were suddenly treading.Steve and Clark while the family lived in
Missouri. from the photograph collection of
Benyce Gates..
In 2007, during a routine check-up, we
learned that Steve’s tumor was aggressively growing, and surgery was strongly
recommended. We faced the same medical progression of just a few years earlier.
This time the surgery was followed by six weeks of radiation and chemotherapy
treatments. Every day after work, we made the 90-minute drive into Tulsa,
Oklahoma, for Steve’s treatments.
One of the most annoying side effects
was the deterioration in Steve’s hearing. Steve had worn a hearing aid for many
years, but now, even with his device, he could not hear his grandchildren or
engage in meaningful conversation. How stifling this was for my gregarious
husband who loved nothing better than a lively conversation! I arranged for
Steve to be evaluated to find some type of hearing aid to assist his
debilitated hearing. I was elated to discover the clinic had a loaner Steve
could try before we spent nearly $3,000 for the new aid.
One day I arrived home from work to
learn Steve had lost the loaner hearing aid while working in the pasture. Isn’t
this the proverbial needle in a haystack? I mused to myself. Inwardly, I
bemoaned the cost of replacing the lost loaner as well as paying for the new
one we ordered. I went to God in prayer, seeking His miraculous intervention in
a seemingly, hopeless situation.
The following Sunday, our daughter,
Joni, and her two daughters pulled into our driveway after attending church. As
she approached our rural home, she heard an unusual sound. She questioned me
about the source of that strange noise, saying optimistically. “It could be
Dad’s hearing aid.”
I replied that it was probably a
locust. I was unwilling to allow any hope of locating the hearing aid to be raised,
only to be dashed by the stark reality of the unlikelihood of finding something
so small in our spacious yard. After all, why would it be out on the lawn
when Steve had lost it in the pasture? I thought. Haven’t we diligently
combed over the property already?
Nevertheless, I stopped to listen and
immediately recognized the unmistakable sound I had heard so often – the squeal
of a hearing aid turned to a high volume.
Joni and I began a humorous version of
“Marco Polo” in a collaborative effort to locate what we could only dare to
hope was the lost hearing aid. To our astonishment, there in the front yard,
almost in one of my flower beds, was the loaner hearing aid with very little
damage other than a dog’s tooth mark. What were the chances that our black
Labrador retriever would turn on the hearing aid and carry it from the pasture
to our front yard so it could be easily heard and found?
Joni turned to my 3-year-old
granddaughter and said, “Tell Nana about your lesson in children’s church.”
Pretty, little Mattie glibly piped up,
gazing into my eyes, “Nana, pray, pray, pray!”
I gave God all the glory for
miraculously using our gentle family dog to solve a demoralizing problem in our
already stressed lives.
God challenges His people in
Philippians 4:6-8 “Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through
prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.”
Often if families are attentive and
open, God instructs several generations in His ways just as He did that Sunday
for Joni, Mattie, and me. Those God-engineered experiences provide faith-building
moments that endure throughout family members’ lives, reaping eternal rewards.
Steve was a unique friend, always polite and kind. He is still missed today. Happy heavenly Birthday Steve. Thanks for sharing this story...
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