Dr. Chris Gilmer, President

 

Once in a very rare while, you have an experience which defies being put fully into words, yet you feel compelled to try.

On Friday, at the invitation of John and Karen Denbigh, David Creel, Keith Gaskin, and I visited with internationally-acclaimed metal artist Jeff Fetty and his lovely wife Charlotte at their home and workshop in Spencer, West Virginia. If I had ever doubted it before, in that moment I found “almost home, West Virginia.”

Their retreat is set very high on one of the most prominent hills in the area, looking down over the picturesque town and the verdant landscape. We visited outside on the deck for a while where I am told the moods of the weather change from hour to hour, sometimes full sun when you can see for miles as it was during our visit, sometimes brooding and moody with clouds settled in along the hilltops.

John is a member of our Board of Governors, and he and Karen are among Jeff’s loyal patrons, both from West Virginia and from around the globe. Jeff and Charlotte were such gracious hosts, and he is recognized as among the best in the world in his field of art. Touring his workshop was a rare pleasure, viewing one-of-a-kind creations made with tools and through processes that are hundreds of years old. And Charlotte’s handmade quilts brought my grandmothers and great-grandmothers back to life in my imagination.

Here are a few photos to document our visit, but it was one of those moments only fully shared by those who were present in it.

There is so much beauty and so much talent in West Virginia. Will you share with me one of the most beautiful spots and/or one of the most talented people you know in this state, another of West Virginia’s treasures hidden right around us in plain view?

Dr. Chris Gilmer, President

 

I have some dreams for WVU Parkersburg which will be unveiled this summer. What dream, large or small, do you have for our community? We might or might not be able to make it come true, but we can surely dream it, together and without judgment, and be better for the conversation.

Dr. Chris Gilmer, President

 

Today, I am reflecting on grace, a simple word, and really a simple state of being, although sometimes it takes a lifetime to find it. Sadly, I imagine some never realize when it has been found.

In some seasons it is all around me, fluttering like a Monarch butterfly, curling over my toes and pulling me toward it like a wave breaking on the sand, a strong wind which seems powerful enough to bend me to its will, yet does not bend me.

This is one of those seasons for me. How many of us get up every day with excitement and wonder because we are getting to do precisely what we feel called to do in precisely the place we want to do it? How many of us are surrounded by a team which really feels more like an extended family committed to a common goal? How many of us, many days, not all, feel more energized at the end of the day than at the beginning because it has simply been that good?

That is my life in this moment, my season of grace. I worked hard, but I can’t really say I caused it to happen or that I earned it. Many people work hard. I simply opened myself to grace and it found me. So that you know this is not a naive point of view,  there have been many seasons of my life in which grace has been much harder to find, seasons of loss and despair, seasons of scarcity and fear, seasons of longing when hope seemed a luxury for others. In those seasons, yes, even then, when I have stopped and looked for grace, it has usually found me, not in such abundance as now, but maybe in a letter from a distant friend, a phone call or a text from my sister who can psychically spot a low moment from a thousand miles, a kind word or small gesture from a stranger which made all the difference and cost the stranger very little in the grand scheme.

It was when I endured those low moments, and we all endure them, that I learned we all have the ability to become the grace others need to find in the world. We have the chance to be the kind strangers, psychic sisters, distant friends.

I am so thankful for my season of abundant grace, mostly because I know it is not guaranteed, that it will likely pass as most seasons do, and that it is a gift, not something of my making.

What’s your season like right now? Is there joy you would like to share or hardship we might help you to overcome…because that’s the thing about grace. The more we give away, the more we seem to find.

Dr. Chris Gilmer, President

 

I am back home in West Virginia, appreciating the place and my wonderful life here even more for spending a few days where my life started, on the country roads of Mississippi, during the Easter holiday. I drove along the road to Damascus and visited the church where my Mamaw Sarah took me as a child. When I closed my eyes, I could almost smell the aroma of dinner on the ground and hear “Rock of Ages” being sung by the congregation. I visited the burial place of that same woman, and my Papaw Carlton, remembering she got her wish to rest on the hillside where she told us she would await the trumpet of her Lord.

Further along the paths of my youth, I ended up in Standing Pine on the Turtleneck Road where my mother was born. Standing in the spot where we returned her ashes to ashes, dust to dust, a cold wind blowing strong against my face, I felt her in the distance, coming. She always comes to me in this place, today a mighty hawk surfing the billows, high and distant, slowly getting closer until finally this magnificent bird made three passes right in front of me, closer than a hawk ever comes, lingering in reassurance before soaring back to the heights, eventually disappearing across a pasture into the tree line. Tell me that wasn’t my mama if you like, but you will be wasting your time.

I have always heard we never really know where we are going until we know where we have been. I know and I celebrate it. How about you? My new friends in West Virginia often hear me talk about the road to Damascus, so I share these words and photos to help make it as real to you as it is to me.

I am starting a new blog, random hopes, dreams, and reveries about times long past and about the moments in time we are sharing. Together, we will remember where we started and imagine where we are going as a university and as individuals. Tell us where you came from and what it means to you, and join me as we blog together today and in the years to come.