Far Away From Home… But Not Alone

He remembers serving his country in combat decades ago as a Marine in Vietnam, where he was wounded in action. Although he is only 70 years old, other memories come and go, occasionally vivid but often confused.

Crossroads Ministry received the call from Estes Park Medical Center late Friday afternoon. A dementia patient who managed to drive all the way from Utah had crashed his car about 1:00 a.m. The vehicle was totaled but, miraculously, his injuries were minor.

“Yes,” the Crossroads Ministry program director replied to the hospital caseworker. “Crossroads can help.”

Crossroads Ministry soon ascertained that the kindly man’s nearest relative, a distraught sister back in Utah, lacked financial resources and did not own a car. That meant beginning with the most immediate needs: transportation from the hospital to Twin Owls Motor Lodge, which partners with Crossroads Ministry to provide emergency lodging, as well as some food from the Crossroads Ministry pantry.

With 5:00 p.m. and the weekend fast approaching, efforts turned to quickly mobilizing whatever additional resources might be available for someone stranded far from home but not able to negotiate transportation without close supervision. Personnel from two different state agencies were cooperative and sympathetic, but the only option they could offer at that point was to arrange for a 72-hour evaluation hold by the police.

Crossroads Ministry staff determined together that the kind gentleman could be better served in other ways. While the client recuperated in his motel room, our program director worked with Bob’s Towing to retrieve the man’s personal belongings from his wrecked car – including a priceless small framed 100-year-old photograph of the gentleman’s beloved grandfather. He continued to work with the man’s sister until arrangements could be made to secure assistance from her neighbors.

From time to time on Saturday, the Crossroads Ministry program director stopped by to check in on our guest, while officers from the Estes Park Police Department kindly agreed to our request to help keep a friendly eye out.

In the meantime, two caring souls drove through the night from Utah, arriving in Estes Park at 5:00 a.m. Sunday morning. They resisted Crossroads Ministry’s offer of assistance with gasoline, but graciously accepted our invitation to rest at the motel for a few hours before their long drive home.

Monday morning brought the glad news that the gentleman – who might otherwise have been incarcerated for no reason other than his own inability to adequately care for himself – had safely arrived home, much to the relief of his caring sister.

“You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Deuteronomy 10:19, NRSV). What a privilege it is for Crossroads Ministry to return kindness and render vital assistance to a faithful veteran and priceless child of God – one of many lives, both local residents and the occasional sojourner, touched each week by the grace of God and the faithfulness of those who love and serve others in Christ’s name.

Ministry at the Crossroads

“You simply MUST apply for this position!” The e-mail from Nancy wasn’t a complete surprise, since Southern Methodist University had recently announced that a sizeable contingent of staff persons could expect to be laid off within the next six months.

The information trickled out from SMU last fall with little detail, and all I could piece together was the likelihood that the number of staff positions to be cut University-wide would exceed 150. The number of staff persons to be laid off from Perkins School of Theology in particular was not disclosed. A terse communication from SMU administration only indicated that most of the persons whose jobs were to be terminated would be notified sometime during or after the month of February 2015 – an agonizing wait of four or five months and, more to the point, a very late date for clergy serving under appointment to indicate to our bishop that we might be seeking an appointment elsewhere.

Thus I found myself notifying my supervisor at Perkins, and my district superintendent in the North Texas Conference, that I would be considering alternative avenues of ministry. And thus my beloved Nancy came to discover that Crossroads Ministry of Estes Park was seeking an Executive Director.

Largely at Nancy’s urging, I prepared a letter of interest as part of the application process, which I duly submitted along with my résumé. I applied for one other position as well, also out of state.

To my surprise, I soon received expressions of interest from both of the places I had contacted, and a series of events led to detailed interviews with each.

At this point, I must confess that I had some misgivings. Most of these misgivings centered, ironically, around how much I love Estes Park, Colorado.

Almost every summer for about 10 or 12 years starting around the mid-1990s, I traveled to Estes Park for recreation and rejuvenation in the form of primitive camping. I journeyed into town from my campsite on the side of Twin Sisters Peak every few days, for supplies and such. The wilderness and the town itself – nestled in the Estes Valley between magnificent snow-capped mountains, was beautiful beyond belief. I never tired of it, and eventually managed a successful climb to the summit of Long’s Peak – which, at more than 14,200 feet, is the tallest mountain in the area. After one memorable vacation experience, I even quipped to a few church members – in Dallas, no less – that God actually lived in the mountains of Colorado but came down to Texas on Sunday mornings for worship!

Why the misgivings, then?

First, I was determined that I would not allow my love of that beautiful setting to blind me to the reality that my gifts – and my heart – needed to be appropriately aligned with the needs and responsibilities of any ministry to which I might be called. On reflection, it seems silly that I might interpret my deep affinity for the location as an impediment rather than an affirmation of God’s good will. But silly or not, I felt compelled to proceed with caution.

Second, there were some concrete obstacles to be overcome. Nancy and I bought a house in Dallas just last July. While home prices in the Metroplex continue to rise dramatically each month, it  was unlikely that we would have enough equity to cover realtor fees and closing costs – even if we could sell the house on short notice.

Moreover, for a variety of reasons – including the devastating floods in Colorado in September 2013, mid-range housing for rent or lease is virtually non-existent in the Estes Valley these days.

Even if the housing complications on both ends could somehow be overcome, there was Nancy’s education and ministry to consider. She was just starting to apply for residency positions in Dallas-area hospitals to continue her chaplaincy training. Would she have to remain in Dallas for a year to complete her training? How would we manage both our current house note and the cost of housing in Estes Park? In any event, I am not keen on being apart from her for such a long period.

In the meantime, a long-awaited announcement finally came. Four staff positions – held by colleagues dear to all of us – were eliminated at Perkins School of Theology. Others were assigned different responsibilities as a new organizational chart was implemented. My position, however, was retained. I no longer needed a position elsewhere in order to ensure gainful employment in ministry.

In the face of those developments – and a few other obstacles not detailed here – I nevertheless accepted an invitation to at least visit Crossroads Ministry of Estes Park for a personal interview with their search team.

And to my delighted surprise, I simply fell in love with the people there, and with the remarkable ministry they have built over the years by the grace of God.

Crossroads Ministry is an ecumenical Christian service organization providing short-term assistance to low income clients, ongoing services to clients on low fixed incomes, and encouraging self-sufficiency of clients through educational opportunities.

It began with one local church's establishment of a food pantry in 1982, a ministry which – due to overwhelming need – quickly expanded to include 14 other partner congregations, with additional support from a variety of other organizations and agencies. Estes Valley Interfaith Council sponsored Crossroads Ministry's application for tax exempt status, which was received from the State of Colorado in 1985, and from the IRS in 1987.

I was astonished to discover that Crossroads Ministry currently serves one in 10 residents of the Estes Valley.

The ministry has been blessed with dedicated support from a wide range of volunteers and donors, as well as the community at large. It has benefitted from compassionate and competent leadership, along with a supportive and highly capable Board of Directors, comprising representatives from the founding congregations.

The morning after my interview with the Crossroads Ministry search team, I received an invitation: they were prepared to recommend me to the Crossroads Board of Directors for the position of Executive Director. I had 72 hours to accept.

Two days later, in a letter to my bishop, I wrote the following about my desire to be appointed to Crossroads Ministry:

I make this request after deep soul-searching, counsel with trusted friends and colleagues, and prayerful discernment. I can think of no ministry more worthwhile or compatible with my gifts, graces, and experiences, as well as my own present spiritual and theological orientation.

In a word, I believe I have been blessed to be called by God for this work, and am thankful to have received the invitation to serve. I also am appreciative of the unwavering support I have received in this endeavor from my supervisor at Perkins School of Theology, Rev. Connie Nelson.

In addition to writing Dallas Area Bishop Mike McKee, I sent a letter withdrawing myself from further consideration for the other position I had originally applied for.

About three weeks afterward, on Monday, March 30, the Board of Directors of Crossroads Ministry of Estes Park unanimously affirmed my call to serve with them as Executive Director.

Thanks to the kindness and efforts of Crossroads Board members and their acquaintances, Nancy and I secured a one-year lease on a beautiful little home in Estes Park that same weekend. (Yes, it has a guest bedroom. And yes, we look forward to welcoming family and friends as our guests!)

Within a few hours of signing the lease in Estes Park, Nancy and I received a text message from a dear colleague and friend, indicating a commitment to lease our house in Dallas.

Nancy is excited about pursuing opportunities for continued chaplaincy training in Colorado, and we are trusting that our needs will be met in this regard, even as so many other obstacles have seemed to melt away.

My last day on staff at Perkins School of Theology is May 15. I selected this date, in part, because of my commitment to the Connections band, which has its final concert of the season that evening, in support of our mission to raise funds for health needs in Africa.

Fortuitously, Nancy completes her current unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) May 18. We expect to move that week, and I plan to begin my duties as Executive Director of Crossroads Ministry on May 26.

As I’ve reflected on these developments, it occurs to me how serving in this capacity hearkens back to my earliest experiences with The United Methodist Church. I became a United Methodist in large part because of the impact Grace United Methodist Church had on the poor, as it united with other churches in the East Dallas Cooperative Parish to meet the needs of the community by providing a food bank, clothing bank, medical clinic, legal clinic, and more.

I went on to pursue ordination in the Methodist tradition because I so deeply value John Wesley’s now-famous dictum in his sermon, “On a Catholic Spirit”: “Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without doubt, we may.”

The mission of Crossroads Ministry is to demonstrate Christian love by providing basic human services to Estes Valley residents in need.

This new journey offers a profound opportunity for meaningful ministries of compassion in my later years, as the inscrutable and ineffable Holy One writes a new chapter, page by page and word by Word.

Thanks be to God.

A Place for Flourishing

            The setting is a pastoral valley – virtually synonymous in the context of agriculture with fertility and the promise of fruitfulness in due season. The scene is bathed in golden life-giving light. Near one corner, the leaves of a few mighty trees are silhouetted against a pale blue sky, while the grassy slopes of a towering mountain dominate the top half of the picturesque scene.

            In the foreground, a bright yellow field cradles a number of greenhouses. The shelters are constructed with tight symmetrical frames and steep-pitched roofs which together support clear glass panels. The nine visible greenhouses crowding the heart of the landscape suggest the likelihood of a larger development expanding to a place of imagination beyond the boundaries of what is seen.

            In front of the greenhouses – not confined by them but perhaps benefiting to some extent from reflected light and warmth – are large plants that appear to be sunflowers. These ordinary flowers are an apt metaphor of learning and seeking truth, since smaller sunflower leaves (and immature blooms) are known for their solar tracking ability, or heliotropism. The commonplace but remarkable plants anticipate the sunrise by positioning themselves to face east in the darkness of early morning, then follow the light of the sun as it rises and moves across the sky (Hangarter).

            I am a lover of learning. I have neither a desire nor any professional need for an additional graduate degree, but found myself fascinated by SMU’s Master of Liberal Studies program from my first reading of the course descriptions for “The Human Experience.” I have found the five classes I’ve already completed in the MLS program (I limit myself to one course per semester) to be quite satisfying, and am greatly enjoying the class I began two weeks ago, Exploring Human Potential, taught by Dr. Charlotte Barner.

            In our first class, we were invited to choose one photo from a selection of more than 100 images that were printed and placed around the classroom, and then to introduce ourselves by sharing how the image might relate to our participation in the MLS program. The scene I selected for that initial session nicely depicts my reasons for taking the course.

            The environment is not only fertile and conducive for learning, it is lovely in its own right. The essential ingredients for growth appear to be present in abundance. There is structure, but the structures are not restrictive. The glass walls offer an incubator for growth while remaining open to the light.

            The sunflowers grow in the context of the greenhouses, yet they are – in a sense – “out of the box.” The plants are not rootless, but neither are they root-bound. They follow the light not because it is required of them but because it is their nature to grow and develop. They are enlarged by the fecundity of their environment, and – though commonplace and perhaps a bit “ordinary” – the plants are becoming not only strong but, in their own way, beautiful.

            I do not know if it makes sense to speak of sunflowers “learning.” But as they assimilate the various nutrients available to them, they develop from seeds to stalks, from buds to blossoms. They are changed, and their brief season of life is enriched by the bountiful resources and luxuriant setting in which they reside: A Place for Flourishing.

WORKS CITED

Hangarter, Roger P. “Solar tracking: sunflower plants.” Department of Biology.

Indiana U, n.d. Web. 1 Feb. 2015. http://plantsinmotion.bio.indiana.edu/plantmotion /movements/tropism/solartrack/solartrack.html 

"Grand Canyon at Sunrise," a photograph I took in October 2011, has been published in Pony Express(ions), the on-line literary journal of Southern Methodist University's Master of Liberal Studies Program.

The image can be accessed directly here —  http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2014/10/28/grand-canyon-at-sunrise-by-tim-mclemore/.
While the 2014 issue remains current, it also is visible from the journal's landing page —  http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/.

Taken from a small plane on approach to the South Rim, the photo was not substantially modified except for cropping out the wing and engine of the plane that are visible in the original image. Both images are reproduced below.

Prayer, on the occasion of an SMU Faculty Club Luncheon

with panel discussion about Election Day

Gracious God,

We confess we have forgotten how to pray.

We find it hard to remember how

to ask for much

beyond our own immediate self-interest.

We want to win, or at least hope

our opponents will fail.

We want what we want, oftentimes

at the expense of

the common interest and

the greater good.

But you, O God,

lover of all people

in all places

and all times,

coax us

to care deeply,

to choose compassionately,

to love unreservedly.

We ask, then, that we may

Awaken to our blessings this day:

abundant food,

political freedom,

and gifted colleagues,

with whom we can share

so many good things.

In your mercy,

add to these many graces

the blessing of a grateful heart.

Amen.

–Tim McLemore

October 30, 2014

Why I Write Poetry

Poem on an assigned topic, "Why I Write Poetry"

for "Creating Poetry" Master of Liberal Studies class at SMU, Fall 2014

Words are never enough. But oftentimes

Words are the best we have to work with. And

When it comes to the kinds of things for which

Words are not enough,

Words work better as poetry.

Words are not enough for science,

Which resorts to numbers as its native tongue.

Words are not enough for art:

We all know how many a solitary picture is

Worth.

Words may be good enough for philosophy, perhaps. (If there is such a thing.)

Words are not enough for the things that matter most.

Words are not enough for love.

Words are not enough for music. (And sometimes, as the Eagles

Wrote in “The Best of My Love,” sometimes “the

Words [get] in the

Way.”)

Words are not enough for food, and sex, and sunsets. I pile on the

Words to describe giggles squealing from a scrunched-up face under manic siege by a 
          relentless puppy dog tongue one almost forgotten and unforgettable rough-and-tumble
          afternoon in the meadow by the farm house of my childhood summers.

Words are never enough. But the more

Words sound like poetry… Ahhh!

–Tim McLemore

September 2014

Wanderlust

Wanderlust

Not just 

the National Geographic 

version,

with facts about farming 

and 

topographic features.

More like a

Food Network come-to-life 

from 2-D HDTV to 3-D eat-some-exotic-chicken-dish in Tuscany 

feast.

Wanderlust is as different from travel

as cogitation is from rumination:

Sterile intellectual analysis

yields

to sustained reflection…

More than that, to intimate digestion.

Nor is it indiscriminately satiating endless gluttonous urges in a wicked world.

Wanderlust is savoring – sparingly, subtly:

      sensing the warmth of the hearth

            listening as the crackling blaze gives way to silent glowing embers

                  smelling cherry blend as it wafts from a well-seasoned pipe in the left hand

                        tasting the afterglow of a delicate thimble of cognac in the right

                              while watching the light play on droplets lingering in the snifter;

Or,

      feeling the breeze kiss a cheek

            while moseying through a distant forest

                  where the birdsong is at once familiar yet altogether new

                        and the earthy smell of pine floods the nostrils

                              as a hint of wild honeysuckle teases the tongue.

                             

Wanderlust does not appear in the catalogue of seven sins that lead to death.

Far greater a sin, by dampening deep desire, never to fully live.

Wanderlust is

      a therapeutic yearning;

      an itching of the spirit.

And the role of roots is not to hold back the blossoms, but

      to fuel the ascent that someday

            takes wing on the winds of the morning

                  to sail without a map

                        beyond the sunset

                                    and the seasons.

     

– Tim McLemore

16 February 2014

_______________________________________________________________________

Wanderlust: the Back Story

            A love of lifelong learning has led me back to the classroom, as a student in the Master of Liberal Studies program at SMU.

            The degree design is flexible, which means I gravitate toward, well, whatever interests me at any given time. And that usually means reading and writing – minus anything resembling ‘rithmetic.

            So it is that I have landed in a course titled Creativity: Historical and Personal.

            And thus I found myself spending a pleasant Sunday afternoon on the west patio of my apartment working on a somewhat open-ended assignment.

            It began as a group exercise in class, where the instructor, Gary D. Swaim, elicited random words of various kinds from the students. We then pared down lists of words from several categories until we were left with five haphazard selections:

Tuscany, cogitate, mosey, wicked, sparingly.

            The first assignment immediately ensued: write “something” (no genre specified) – on the spot – that employs all five terms. My classmates produced some brilliant essays and creative stories in the 15 minutes or so that were allotted for the exercise. For some reason, my brain insisted that I should attempt to employ all five terms in as brief a literary creation as possible.

            That led to my first attempt – a limerick, of all things: 

A wicked old woman from Tuscany

who tended to cogitate – sparingly,

      just moseyed along

      ‘til she fell headlong

in her own fiendish web of spaghetti.

      Professor Swaim, who is familiar with my work from a previous course, confessed he was relieved that the location name selected by the class was “Tuscany” and not “Nantucket.”

            I tried again. But once hokey poetry gets sucked into your psyche…

Is it wicked of me

To cogitate so frequently

On Tuscany, beautiful Tuscany?

I would do so sparingly,

But my thoughts always mosey

To Tuscany, beautiful Tuscany! 

            Clearly, more work was in order. Inspired by a section called “Toppling,” as found in one of our texts ("Zig-Zag," by Keith Sawyer, 135-141), our task for the following week was first to create free associations consisting of five words based on each of the original five words compiled by the class. We then were to write a longer piece (with more time for creativity and editing) based on the original five words. I believe the idea is that the free associations will insinuate themselves into the literary endeavor in creative ways.

• Tuscany led me to think of a chicken dish in an Italian restaurant, which led me to the cackle sound that chickens make, which led me to the word crackle, which brought to mind a crackling fire and a hearth.

• Cogitate led me regurgitate and ingurgitate, which brought to mind ruminate and then cow. I’ve always loved the image of a cow chewing the cud and, after a period of digestion in one of several stomachs, returning the food back to the mouth for more chewing, rumination – a longstanding expression for reflecting on (chewing on, digesting) a thought or idea at some length.

• Mosey led me to wander, then to wilderness, forest, and birdsong:

            “When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,

            and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees…”

            (Stuart Hine, How Great Thou Art)

• Wicked led me in quick succession to witch, bitch, rich, and itch. (Of the five terms, “itch” seemed the least likely to bear any poetic fruit.)

• Sparingly, in the context of having overeaten (to my regret) Saturday evening, led me to dine, which then led me to coffee (somewhat inexplicably, since I don’t drink coffee), which led me (also inexplicably – but hey, it’s free association!) to depression (regret at overeating? or my propensity to sullenness when hungry?), which led me to therapeutic (another term that seemed at the outset surely to be a throwaway, of no conceivable use to me in this context). That, in turn, recalled one of my favorite therapeutic activities: gardening. 

            A review of the freshly-completed creative exercise scribbled across a page in my notebook left me thinking of my favorite term in the mix: “wander.” Which reminded me of a word I have long enjoyed, but never utilized in my writing: Wanderlust.

            I avoided the temptation to research any definitions, and posthaste began an attempt to express what I find fascinating about Wanderlust.

            The poem elucidates the difference I perceive between literal travel and the somewhat spiritual impelling that Wanderlust connotes for me, in large measure by playing off the contrasts between “cogitation” and “rumination.” It did not feel complete without a gardening image, which at first seemed slightly antithetical to the concept of Wanderlust but finally became the culmination of this fanciful exercise in creativity.

Neches River at the Anderson County Line, near Cuney, Texas. Thanksgiving Day at sunrise, 2013.