Category: Bible

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Remnants…

gregoryjoel

Thoughts from the Porch: We had another Arctic visitor yesterday. It’s the time of the year for frequent, though thankfully short-lived, visitations from our far northern neighbors. I awoke to a chill in the house. When the wind chill drops the thermometer, our heater takes a while to catch up in the morning. Jumping out of a cozy, warm bed to shut off the alarm is a bit of a shock on days like these. Such is January in North Texas…

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

This week was one of the few Wednesday’s I missed my Fort Worth Development Group meeting. Ms. Opal and I had a meeting causing a time conflict. The good news is that I got to spend the drive time with one of my heroes for two days in a row. That doesn’t happen often enough for me. Sometimes I just need “Ms. Opal time”.

We were able to spend some time together yesterday discussing business and having good conversation. I brag about Ms. Opal only because she lives the kind of life that I hope to lead: one full of love and service for others. It’s one of the main reasons I’m so passionate about Opal’s Farm. It’s a reflection of the loving service of Ms. Opal and the realization of a dream and doing something tangible for the community.

We were speaking about the events of Martin Luther King Day. It’s not simply a commemoration of Dr. King, but a National Day of Service as well. She told me that, according to the Fort Worth Star Telegram, over 800 people showed up at her small church to meet prior to going out and serving various non-profits throughout Tarrant County. Over 800 people giving up their day off to serve others!

Many of you know that I’m a bit of a politics junkie. I usually spend some time on the newsfeed after my morning quiet time. Sometimes I’m not sure why I do. It’s a long string of cultural insanity, full of stories of human suffering, violence, and hatefulness, particularly as it pertains to our current administration in Washington, D.C. While it usually spurs me on to action, it’s often overwhelming and leaves me feeling a bit hopeless. The future is bleak at times. But…

Then I read or hear things like 800 people that gave their time to serve others. Despite all the negativity that bombards us about society, there is an amazing amount of goodness out there. I forget that sometimes…

It reminds me of the biblical story of the prophet Elijah in I Kings 19. It seems that speaking the truth to a corrupt King wasn’t a good idea, even if it was the right thing to do. In fact, the King was so angry he put a price on Elijah’s head. Poor Elijah ran for his life until he was hiding out in a cave, crying out to God that he was the only good guy left in the world.

I get it. Doing the right thing can be tiring at times and it can feel terribly lonely. Frustration keeps me from seeing any good in the world. Fortunately, that wasn’t the end of the story for old Elijah. You see, God answered him in a still quiet voice, assuring him there was still a remnant of good, godly people in Israel: seven thousand to be exact. He wasn’t alone. It just felt that way.

That isn’t the end of the story for me, either. I guess that’s why I love my “Ms. Opal Time” so much. She reminds me of the goodness in people. God hasn’t spoken to me in a cave (at least not yet), but He always sends me someone like Ms. Opal. I’m not alone. I know of at least 800 other folks working to make our little world a better place…

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Christmas Spirit…

gregoryjoel

Thoughts from the Porch: It’s become harder to get in the Christmas spirit this year. The exact reason has proven elusive. It could be that Christmas music starts blaring the day after Halloween, but It probably has to do with the fact that Mom and Dad are both gone now. This is the second Christmas since Mom passed and the sixteen of them without Dad. You’d think I’d be past it by now, but grief is what it is. It wasn’t until this morning that the season rushed over me and my soul felt revived with Christmas spirit.

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I have a scheduled meeting every Sunday morning at 9:00AM. It’s one of the highlights of my week. I get to carry a simple message of hope to hurting people. I don’t know who benefits more – them or me. The spirit of giving tends to do that. Uncommon sense again – the more you give, the more you receive. But I digress…

I drove to my meeting yesterday morning somewhat short of my required coffee quota. I wasn’t paying attention to the radio or much else until I heard an angelic rendition of “Silent Night” come flowing from the speakers. I wish I could tell you who the vocalist was, but I had to hop out of the truck and get to my meeting before it finished. All I know is that I felt different. I was more “Christmas-ee”…

My family never celebrated Christmas as a religious holiday. Being good fundamentalists, we couldn’t celebrate something that the Bible didn’t state for certain. To most folks that sounds silly. Now that I’m older I can’t say that I disagree. Still, we celebrated Christmas as a secular holiday of giving and family. Santa Claus was alive, and Jesus’ birthday was up for debate.

Ironically, Christmas carols were always in order even if they were religious in nature. The Sunday church service before Christmas always included religious carols, and mentioned the birth of Jesus (you know, since the rest of the world was focused on it) but it was “to celebrate the season”, not the birth of our Savior. I never quite got the logic in that. Anyway…

I no longer hold to the strict religious traditions of my youth. Jesus may or may not have been born on December 25th. It makes little difference. This is the season which people have chosen to celebrate his birth. I can’t find anything wrong with that. The point is that he was born. Emmanuel – “God is with us”.

Listening to “Silent Night” this morning it hit me full force; “God is with us”, and just like us. Just like me. Just like you.

My sons may be adults now, but I can remember the day each was born as though it were yesterday. I didn’t need a manger, livestock, shepherds, or wise men to make both moments holy, just as that moment some two thousand years ago. Maybe that’s why God chose to enter in to our world the way he did. I’d like to think so.

The authors of the four Gospels tell of the man and his teachings, but they record little of Jesus’ life growing up. I’d like to believe that he wasn’t much different from my boys. I don’t know what was comparable to spaghetti in First Century Palestine, but I’m sure that most of it ended up everywhere but his mouth. Mary probably had to give many an after-dinner bath during those first couple of years.

At the risk of sounding a bit sacrilegious, I would like to think that Jesus ducked out of Hebrew school to go fishing with his buddies. After all, He had an affinity for fishing and hung out with his fishing buddies…

The only reference we have to Jesus’ young life is an incident when he was twelve years old. Instead of going home with the rest of his family he hung back in Jerusalem. I can only imagine the panic Mary and Joseph felt when they realized he was missing. I freaked out when one of the boys hid behind a clothing rack at the store…

I’m no Biblical scholar, but I’m pretty sure that Jesus was “just one of the guys” for most of his life: content to live like everyone else in his town. It’s telling that the townsfolk response to his first recorded teachings in the Gospel of Luke is “Isn’t this Joseph’s son, the one we’ve known since he was a youngster?” (Luke 4.22).

It’s easy to concentrate on Jesus as divine, as perfect, and forget that Jesus was one of us. That, above all, is the miracle of Christmas. God chose to enter His creation through Jesus, an everyman, dirty diapers and all. He lived and worked among us as an ordinary guy. He laughed and hung out with his buddies. When all was said and done, He stepped up to announce that,

                “God’s Spirit is on me;

he’s chosen me to preach the Message of good news to the poor.

Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind.

To set the battered and burdened free,

To announce, “This is God’s year to act” (Luke 4.16-21 The Message)

The rest, as they say, is history.

So, I’m in a bit more of the Christmas spirit this morning. If Jesus could walk among us, “Loving God and loving others” then I’m inclined to follow in his footsteps. It isn’t always the popular thing. After all, he tended to upset the proverbial apple cart. “You’ve heard it said… but I say to you” tends to rub some people the wrong way. I guess we all tend to do that…

I’m so glad that God chose to enter the world the way he did. “Emmanuel” – God is with us.

Happy Birthday Jesus!

Merry Christmas y’all!

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What’s For Breakfast?

gregoryjoel

Thoughts from the Porch: I don’t get to see the sun breaking above the horizon due to the way the houses sit around our little cul-de-sac. Light slowly comes over the roof of our next door neighbor’s house and the porchgrows brighter. It’s much faster now that the trees have shed their leaves forthe winter. Something about watching dawn break makes me feel more alive, more awed by the God of creation. What a way to start the day…

  I used to dread seeing the sunrise, especially on Mondaymornings. The weekend was over. It was back to work. ‘Work’ was a four-letter word. It’s not that way anymore, though.

  Things have changed over the last ten or fifteen years. I lookforward to Mondays. I know you may find that hard to believe, but I really do. In fact, I like most mornings.

 Dawn dispels the night and reawakens the world for anotherday. I’m reminded that I “woke up on the right side of the roots”, as my friend Charlie says. I’m here for another day, another opportunity…

That wise old sage, Winnie the Pooh, was having a discussion with his friend, Piglet, about the first thought they had in the morning. Piglet told himself, “I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?”

Pooh, being the practical bear that he is, said he asked himself, “what’sfor breakfast?” I like that…

“What’s for breakfast?” has become a mantra of sorts. Itreminds me to take care of what’s immediately before me, to “do the next rightthing”, whatever that may be. Most of the time, it’s routine – crawl out of bed, the morning toilette, and make a pot of coffee. By the time I get to the porch, I have an idea what needs to be done today. I also know God often hasother plans.

I’ve heard the phrase “do the next right thing” for years. If I’m honest, I don’t always know what the “next right thing” is. It’s easy to get caught up in the ‘to-do’ list, head off in another direction, and miss the ‘next right thing’ there in front of me.

 I think that’s why my ‘porch time’ has become so important. My friend Edgar likes to remind me that when I take care of the spiritual man, the physical, mental, and emotional aspects of being tends to take care of themselves. Funny how that echoes Jesus’ admonition, “Love God and love others. Do that and everything else will take care of itself”.

The porch gets me ready for the day. Conversing with God keeps me centered and gives me clarity of vision. It’s much easier to see the “next right thing” when it appears. Sometimes that means altering my plans in order to follows God’s…

I hope I become more like Pooh Bear as I grow older. I hope I always ask the right question, “What’s for breakfast?” When I focus on that I don’t have to wonder what exciting things are going to happen. They just happen: a natural consequence of taking care of breakfast first.

So, what’s for breakfast today?

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Still Thankful

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch: It’s the day after Thanksgiving. Myinbox was filled with a multitude of emails announcing ‘Black Friday’ sales anddonation appeals. It pains me to know I can’t take advantage of either one this year.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s been a difficult few months for Margaret and I, at least where finances are concerned. Business has been slow since my hospitalization in May. The up side is that it’s freed up more time to devote to the farm. The down side is that the farm doesn’t pay the bills, at least not for a couple of more months. Unfortunately, the mortgage and the bills won’t wait that long.

We’re not unique in this regard. A May 18, 2018 New York Post article cites data fromthe United Way Alice Project that, “Some 50.8 million households or 43% can’t afford a basic monthly budget for housing, food, transportation, child care, healthcare, and a monthly smartphone bill.”That’s almost half our population that is one Emergency Room visit or carrepair away from being on the street. Knowing we’re not alone is bothencouraging and disheartening…

Last night, we shared a Thanksgiving meal with family. I struggled to remain mentally present. I had to constantly remind myself to “be where my feet are”. The Cowboy game was a welcome distraction and appreciated more than usual. It relieved my financial anxiety for a couple of hours.

We had a marvelous dinner. Everyone had contributed their own unique piece to the meal. Each had been prepared with love. Everyone ate their fill. I couldn’t help but think of how a few loaves and fishes multiplied to feed five thousand folks. My mood began to lighten.

Following dinner and prior to desserts, we have a family tradition of going around the table and sharing what we are grateful for. If I’m honest, I wasn’t looking forward to this part. I wasn’t feeling very grateful. Yet, something happened as we began our way around the table.

As each of our family shared their gratitude, I gained a little more clarity. Here I was sitting around a table with a full tummy and the people I love and appreciate. That’s something that many folks don’t have. The holidays can be a terribly lonely time for some. Going to bed hungry is a reality for a lot of people. Here in Tarrant County, one in five kids go to bed hungry.

It became a little easier to see my blessings when it was my turn to share. I might have learned the power of ‘Gratitude Lists’ years ago, but sometimes I feel so overwhelmed and fearful that I forget it. When I lose gratitude, I lose vision. When I lose vision, I lose touch with reality.

What I know this morning is that I’m grateful for the life I’ve been granted today. I never thought I’d see forty and I’m still here at sixty to share my thoughts with you. (I know that may not be such a blessing to others at times…) I have a roof over my head and food to eat. Even when the proverbial financial wolf is at the door, I’m safe inside. It will be okay. I can’t think of one single time when it hasn’t. God has been faithful, even when I’m overwhelmed with fear and doubt. Sometimes I don’t see it until I’m well past the problem, but it’s always been that way.

I am so grateful for the people in my life. Our friend Mary, (who doesn’t cook) made amazing dishes to enjoy; all the while being a valued friend and presence for Margaret. Adam, our ‘adopted’ son who reminds us regularly of the importance of sharing life together. Amanda, our new daughter (to say in-law would just be wrong!) who is such a loved part of our family. A great wife to our son, Brandon and mother to our granddaughter, Levi. They were just some of the folks around last night’s dinner table…

I’m even grateful for the current struggles we find ourselves in. For one, I have the gift of Margaret by my side. She has a much better grasp on faith than I do. I’m convinced that’s why God looked at Adam and said, “it’s not good for man to be alone”. I’m so grateful that he felt that highly of me and blessed me with her. She shows me how to love, live, and laugh better…

All in all, life brings its struggles to us all. Our current difficulties are nothing compared to many folks. In fact, they are far more pervasive than most of us would like to admit. Faith doesn’t exempt us from them, but it does provide the sustenance we need to get through them. Gratitude is the first bite of the spiritual food that gives that strength.

If you’re struggling this holiday season, whether it’sfinancial, physical, or far more internal, take a bite of gratitude. 

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Feeling Revived!

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch: It’s beautiful Fall morning on the porch.I had an incredible weekend at the Red Letter Revival in Dallas. I couldn’t goFriday, but I was able to attend Saturday. What a Sabbath! The workshops wereamazing. The worship service Saturday night was what I always imagined ‘church’to be. The presence of God’s spirit was overwhelming! A huge thank you toeveryone who worked so hard to make the weekend possible.

The weekend fulfilled the promise of its name – revival. I feel revived, refreshed, and renewed. Going into this weekend I found myself tired and worn down – physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The months since my hospital stay have been arduous, especially financially. Work, paying work, has been slow. Financial fear and frustration creep in despite my faith.

Most of my energies have been focused on Opal’s Farm. Compensation won’t start until later next year, but the initial footwork still must be done. Doing the “next right thing” can be scary at times. The only reason I mention this is because this weekend I received a reminder of God’s faithfulness.

I attended a workshop led by Rev. Edwin Robinson on “Undoing the Theology of Racism”. He started the workshop by singing and talking about ‘wading in the water’. He drew an analogy with Moses’ parting of the Red Sea as recorded in the Book of Exodus.

You see, Jews understand the event differently than most Christians. Moses didn’t simply put his foot in the water and the sea parted. He waded all the way in. It wasn’t until the water was up to his neck that the water began to part. Salvation from the pursuing Egyptians and the sea in front of them came when the water almost covered them, when they couldn’t see it coming.

That’s stuck with me all weekend. I’ve been feeling like the water’s up to my neck lately, the future unsure. That’s the feeling anyway. But that’s not the reality. Let me explain…

If I look back on my journey to this point in life, I can see that, God has always ‘parted the waters’ for me. Not just on occasion, but every time. Unfortunately, while I see clearly looking backwards, I’m flying blind while looking forward. Maybe that’s why they call it faith…

This weekend renewed my faith. Financially, there’s more month than money right now. Physically, I feel refreshed and ready to greet the day. Mentally, I’m still fearful but somehow less stressed. Most importantly, I feel revived spiritually. I’ve struggled with the whole idea of ‘church’.  I take the words of the Rabbi literally. Sometimes I think I’m one of the few when I see what others do in Jesus’ name.

I believe that Jesus “meant what He said”. I believe that following His instruction can help me become the man Idream of being: of loving God and loving others with all my heart, mind, and spirit. I believe that He really did bring good news of the Kingdom of God and I want to share it.

My heart and my spirit tell me that Opal’s Farm is a tangible way for me to share that good news. Not by words, but by example. Jesus feed the hungry, why shouldn’t I? The Apostle James said that “faith without works is dead”. In other words, walk the walk. If you believe it, act like it.

Finally, this weekend reminded me that I’m not alone. There’s a multitude of wonderful people of faith, Kingdom people who seek God’s will “on Earth as it is in Heaven”. I really needed that reminder.

So, thank you Red Letter Christians for putting together a great weekend. To learn more about the Red Letter Movement, visit www.redletterchristians.org . Colorful