On Closing Doors
An end-of-summer personal reflection
1. On June 3, 1967 I stood before a church in Pennsylvania and closed
the door on dating and romance with other
women still available. But that closed door enabled me to walk through the door
of a superb marriage to Sharon
for the rest of my life. Closing one door opened another.
2. In 1969 I closed the door at my first pastorate by resigning and numerous folk thought I was making
a mistake closing the door on that that church.
But I could then walk through the open door to being a full time student
at Princeton Seminary. Closing one door enabled me to walk through another.
3. After seminary I closed the door on a developing career
running camping programs for the Salvation
Army in New York
where I had my first ministry after seminary. I could not be both a Salvation
Army leader and a Wesleyan pastor—closing the Salvation Army door made it
possible to walk through Wesleyan ministry doorway.
4. In 1971-72 I wandered the country with Sharon living in a VW camping, backpacking,
and living like the hippies of that day. To the disappointment of that hippie
generation we closed the door on our care-free
wandering life in 1972. But that closed door opened another one: to work at
my denomination’s headquarters in Children’s ministries for the next six years.
5. In the 1970’s everyone was talking about over population
and I even went to a doctor to get an operation guaranteeing we would not
contribute to the world’s “Population Bomb.”
(The doctor talked me out of it.) In the late 70’s we closed the door to
our happy “just you and me” life
together and opened the door to parenting when we decided to have our first
child—one door had to be closed before the other could be opened.
6. In 1976 I closed the door to children’s work in the youth department and walked through the open
door to become my denominations executive editor of curriculum. A General Superintendent called me on the
carpet and said, “You have made a terrible mistake—you belonged in the youth
department and now you’ve gone and ruined your chances of election to be in
charge of youth.” Right or wrong I had to close the children’s ministry door in
order to walk through the open door to leading my denomination’s curriculum the
next two years.
7. In 1980 my denomination shut the door to my curriculum work when it ignored the
opinion of that GS and elected me to lead my denomination’s youth work for the
next eight years. The curriculum door shut and youth work door opened.
8. By 1988 I was worn out on youth work and announced I would close the door on that era of life
against my mentor’s advice. At the summer general conference I closed the door
on yet another opportunity at headquarters and went to IWU
to teach Christian Education. Those
closed doors enabled me to be far more present in my son’s lives instead of
traveling every weekend in denominational work—one door closed, another opened.
9. Even though I loved teaching
college more than anything I’ve ever done I closed the door on it in 1990
when I felt prompted to accept leading my denomination’s Christian Education
department. If I had not closed the door on teaching I could not have walked
through the door to six important years of (painful) learning in my life.
10. In the Fall of 1995 I sensed
that it was time to close the doors forever on denominational service, even though many friends urged me to stay
put. It is the only time I have ever “put out a fleece” for a decision. I wrote
one Tuesday in my Day Alone with God journal,
“The first Wesleyan
College that offers me a
position teaching without my applying I will accept it immediately.” I got an unexpected call that Thursday and by
the following Tuesday I had a contract in hand—I was willing to close one door
in order to walk through another door and I retired from denominational work in
1996. Teaching college again also opened the door to a wonderful new summer
avocation—backpacking. I started that summer trying to finish the Appalachian Trail, a childhood dream.
11. In the next 12 years of summer backpacking I have been able to take students or other
professors into the mountains and I had wonderful times. I’ve been able to
finish the Southern Upland Way and
the West Highland Way in Scotland,
complete the entire 2160 mile Appalachian
Trail, and 2600 mile Pacific Crest
Trail along with completing the Colorado
Trail and a few other trails. The last few years I’ve actually been
repeating miles on these trails, including re-hiking the bottom 500 miles of
the Appalachian Trail this past May. In total
I’ve had the privilege of backpacking something like 10,000 miles of trails.
Now I’m closing that door. I have six summers left before I’m 70 years old, 16
summers before I’m 80. There are other
summer adventures I want to experience but I must close the door on backpacking
so I can walk through the door to other adventures. I will still do some walking in the woods and
mountains, but I am closing the door on backpacking as my primary summer
career, and pondering several open doors to other adventures.
So, I need a
career change. Not a change in my day job
as professor but a change in my summer avocation of backpacking. I'm wearing
out on long-mile backpacking.
I hiked
more than 600 miles this summer but this came to me most clearly in August while
I was hiking the Colorado trail
with three other guys, We were doing a moderate 15 mile a day with three or
four thousand feet of elevation gain. The trail beat me and I dropped out
before the end of our planned 100 mile hike. I was "surviving" each day
only by using up all my reserves… and all my Advil (16 per day) to enable my
knees to carry me. It took the fun out of hiking. I turned down a jeep road
near Silverton Colorado
and eventually got a hitch with a 4WD jeep 60 miles
back to our starting point where I retrieved our car to meet my hiking buddies
when they ended their hike in Durango. Now I'm pondering next summer....
Some options for my new [summer] career are:
- Reading/writing.
Maybe I should forget trekking altogether and get a cabin in the mountains
each summer and read and write for four months. I love reading and just to
read all the books I’ve already purchased would use up the first five
years. Maybe my treks in the future should be through books and my output
should be words not miles. Maybe I’ll settle down in one cabin that has a
great view of mountains and read-and-write all summer. I could switch to a
reading-writing career.
- Motorcycling.
Or, maybe I could move into motorized trekking. I could buy a motorcycle
and wander around the nation (and the world) like the guys did in
“Motorcycle diaries.” I could write a daily travel blog on the road. Or
maybe I could buy an off-road motorcycle and explore the 200,000 miles of 4WD forest service roads in the national forests I met
two guys in Yellowstone park this summer riding
from Canada
to Mexico
on these 4WD roads. I once rode my moped along
the 600 mile Blue Ridge Parkway/Skyline Drive
and It was fun—maybe I could adopt a motorized
trekking career next.
- Canoeing/kayaking.
I left a canoeing career for backpacking. I had canoed nearly a thousand
miles even before I did the entire Missouri
River in 1999. I was planning a canoe trip down
the Yukon River in
2000 when Paul Kind talked me
into doing the PCT with him instead. He used the argument, “Coach, you can
canoe when you get old.” Maybe now I’m old enough to go back to canoeing.
I still have all the maps and research done for both the Yukon and Mackenzie Rivers along with
books and guides to 14 other great rivers of America.
Maybe I could switch back to a canoeing/Kayaking career.
- Bicycling.
I could switch to a biking career too. Biking is easier on the knees than
backpacking. I might start by doing the Rails-to-Trails treks including
the Great-Alleghany-Passage/C&O trail from Pittsburg to Washington
DC.
And there are other long off-road bike trails. I might even try to tackle
the Great Divide Mountain Bike Trail from Canada to Mexico
which parallels the Continental Divide backpacking Trail. I have far more
friends willing to bike than backpack and Sharon
likes biking better too since one can sleep in motels each night. Maybe I
should switch to a biking career.
Maybe
there are other summer careers too—but I sense my knees are saying it is time
to switch careers. It is time to lay down my backpack and walk though another
door. So if you are reading this personal blog you must be one of my friends...
What do your think? After dropping my backpack what do you think I should pick
up?
So, what do YOU think?
To respond click here.
www.tuesdaycolumn.com
August 18, 2008