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The following is an excerpt from an article in the January/February/March 1994 issue of The Deacon.
Morris Lee was the husband of one of our patients.
My Most Memorable Deacon
by Perry W. Crisp, Pastor
New Prospect Baptist Church
Nemo, Texas
A common scene in western movies depicts the nightly routine of a town deputy who walks about checking the doors and windows of the businesses and establishments to ensure that all is well. His service provides comfort and security to the banker, the store owners, and the blacksmith. The entire community sleeps better knowing the deputy is on the job.
The little community of Nemo, Texas, where Morris Lee lives, feels this same sense of comfort. Morris is an 80-year-old deacon at New Prospect Baptist Church in Nemo. Like a deputy of the old west, he pleasantly and consistently makes sure all is well in Nemo.
When he telephone rings at our house in the evening, I often say to my wife, "It's probably Morris." Each night Morris calls various members of the church and community to visit with and check in on widows, shut-ins, fellow deacons, old friends and new ones--and yes, even yours truly, his pastor.
In fact, he averages about 50 calls each week. Each person who receives his call knows the blessing of having a friend who cares.
For Morris, the telephone is a tool for ministry; however, his ministry is not limited to phone calls. Each day he drives into town to help deliver meals to senior citizens in our community. Recently, I visited in the home of an elderly member of our church whose husband had just died. During the visit Morris brought this woman her meal. When she saw him come in, her face brightened up with a smile.
Morris Lee had a significant impact on this community because of unselfish service and true compassion.
Of all the ministries that Morris performs, however, there is one that eclipses all others--his ministry to his beloved wife, Corinne. Corinne is 84 years old and live in a local nursing home 7 miles from her husband.
In 1985, Morris was faced with what he called, "the hardest decision I ever had to make." Corinne had a brain tumor and needed surgery. Morris gave permission to operated only after agonizing prayerfully over the decision.
While on the operating table, Corinne suffered a stroke. Morris became Corinne's lifeline. He brought her home and tirelessly cared for her every need. He fed her; he bathed her. He carried her to the sofa in the morning and to the bed at night.
He kept up this regimen of devoted service until his body could not stand any more. He neglected his own needs to the point that he had to be hospitalized.
Morris endured intense pain to keep from going to the hospital for fear that Corinne would be placed in a nursing home. He feared she would not be treated well or care for properly.
Morris has changed his mind about nursing homes. He has nothing but praise and gratitude for the wonderful staff of nurses who help him care for Corinne.
Twice a day Morris travels to the nursing home to spend valuable time with Corinne. She is everything to him. While the stroke has left her somewhat limited, she still can manage a beautiful smile and an innocent sense of humor.
I asked Morris what Corinne's smile means to him. "It lights up my whole soul," he said. . .
On December 8, 1985, the church ordained Morris to the deacon ministry. His willingness to serve others and his humble sprit were significant factors in their decision to ordain him.
Two years ago, the nominating committee saw a need for a better ministry to the homebound members of the church. Someone was needed to pioneer this ministry. Morris was the obvious candidate. No one knew the homebound people or their needs better than he. Morris became the church's ambassador to the homebound members.
He keeps the church informed of the health and condition of each shut-in. He keeps the homebound informed of the status of the church. He is the link between the homebound and the church.
In both the ordination to the deacon ministry and in the appointment to the homebound ministry, the church was not asking Morris to do anything new or different. They were merely acknowledging the services he already was rendering.
Being a deacon is important to Morris. He accepted the role with humility and carries it with the determination to do his best.
. . .Words are hard to come by, but feelings seem always to surface when friends try to describe the impact Morris has made on them. One elderly widow said it best: "I can't tell you how much his calls and visits mean to me. Morris really cares about me."
We hear different understandings of the functions of a deacon. I asked Morris to describe his perception of a deacon's functions. His answer: "They should get out and visit. If there's anybody in need of anything, they (the deacons) should help them. And if they can't supply what they need, why they should talk to other people and get the ball a-rollin'"
Morris quickly followed up his statements with a confession that he does not feel he does enough.
But what more could a pastor ask for?
When I hear the telephone ring each evening in my home, I know that, chances are, it's Morris "checking the doors and windows to ensure that all is well."
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