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Time to Celebrate

Thoughts From the Porch

I came home from my Sunday morning meeting and spent a long time lost in thought. Today is a special day of celebration in my life: probably more important than all the other holidays combined. I reflected on the friends who made it all possible. I cannot begin to come close to expressing my love and appreciation for them. You see, fourteen years ago I surrendered to God’s infinite grace and began an incredible, mystical journey with these people. Life began again. Dreams became. Miracles happened. In fact, I’ve come to depend on them. I’m living proof. I celebrate fourteen years free from the bonds of addiction, selfishness and self-obsession.

I don’t often speak of my recovery on social media. For most of my life I’ve been an example of what NOT to do. I wouldn’t want anyone to judge the recovery process by my actions. I chose a program of recovery that taught me how to rely on the God of my understanding to break the cycle of addiction, to correct my oft repeated shortcomings, and be of use to others. It has worked for me for a while now.

It gave me a relationship with God that grows more intimate each day. It offered me a new set of glasses through which I see the world as God would have me see His creation (most of the time at least). Where there only existed failure, depression, and endless desperation before, my life is filled with light and infinite possibility. I never dreamt that life could be this way. I know what joy and freedom are today. I’m recovering the life God intended for daily. Pretty damned amazing if you ask me…

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I thought of my friend and mentor, Jim, who walked alongside me throughout much of the journey. He followed an eternal path almost two years ago. Not a day goes by that his voice doesn’t speak to me, either in my head or through my friends. One friend in particular, Edgar, frequently quotes “Jimisms”. He always seems to know when they’re truly needed.

I thought about my brother Craig who opened his home when I needed it most. I spent five years sitting in his woodshop, sharing coffee, prayer, and spirit. No man is more blessed than me. I always wanted a brother. I had to wait fifty years to get one!

Perhaps most of, I thought about the woman in the next room who shares life with me; the woman that God (and recovery) gave me. Most of you know my wife Margaret. Most of you know Margaret broke her leg a few weeks ago. It’s been non-weight bearing and will be for several more weeks. It has been my honor and privilege to be her legs these last few weeks; to bring coffee, to help her to the chair, and push her wheelchair. Recovery taught me what it means to love someone else, to be in a relationship with God and the love of my life. It made it easy to exchange vows and really mean it. She is the light of my life and brings me joy on this walk together.

Blessed more than I deserve

I would be remiss if I failed to tell you how important each of you are in my life. I once told my friend Rusty that I could finally count my true friends on more than one hand. He told me I was blessed: most people can’t say that. From a life of isolation and loneliness I been brought into a life that almost feels too full at times. I somehow make room for it though. When I don’t God helps me make it bigger.

Above all, I know all is grace. I don’t deserve any of the blessings I enjoy today. I’m unbelievably thankful I didn’t get what I deserve – clean or using. What I received was an endless supply of love and grace instead. As my brother Craig reminds me, “God is especially fond of me” (and you, too!).

One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received is waking up each day to a new and bright world full of hope and possibilities no matter what the newspaper (does anybody still read those?) may say. I get to “live creatively” as the Apostle Paul would say.

Thank you for being a part of this wonderful journey…

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Enjoy the Feast!

Thoughts From the Porch

Today is the Thanksgiving holiday here in the good old USA. To my friends here I wish a happy feast day filled with family, good friends, and food. We’re having an intimate family dinner here at the Joel home.

As our family has grown, so to has the amount of scheduling going into the holidays. Kids and grandkids balance time with in-laws, other grandparents, and our extended family. Thanksgiving becomes several days long. The final get-together for our family will be on Saturday. In-laws and outlaws, you know…

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I will be joining my oldest son for breakfast. Over the past year we’ve grown closer than we’ve been in a long time. He calls every morning on his way to work. It’s one of the joys of my morning. I can’t think of a better way to start the day.

Have a blessed and Happy Thanksgiving. I’m off to the diner…

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Happy Belated 4th of July

I wish all my friends a very, very happy 4th of July, albeit belated. This has been an unbelievably hectic week despite the holiday. Between harvest at Opals Farm, working on a new client’s project, and accompanying my oldest son the another 5k race, I haven’t had much time to write down my “thoughts from the porch”. I haven’t given up my porch time though. Prayer and meditation are essential to healthy work and play…

Margaret and I have five grown children between us. We decided from day one that we wouldn’t have stepchildren, only “our” children. Margaret and I didn’t date long before we married so she had never met my oldest son until our wedding day. When they finally met, Adrian introduced himself with, “Hi, I’m Adrian”, to which Margaret replied, Hi, I’m your stepmom”…

Adrian and Jeremy are the oldest of the five. Margaret loves to remind me her three are younger because, after all, she’s still in her fifties and I’m, well, not. We may consider them all our kids, but I have to admit, I beam a little brighter when one of “my” boys have their moments of special achievement or success. In no way does this diminish the achievements of the other three. I’ve simply had a longer and closer relationship with my boys. We’ve shared the ups and downs that came with our tiny family unit (I was a single dad) and I’ve rejoiced even more so in their success as was far from the perfect father growing up.

On Thursday, I met my oldest, Adrian, and rode with him to Dallas to watch him run in the “5 for the Fourth” 5k race. Notice I said watch. I’m not sure my old knees can partake in such endeavors. They might handle a bicycle race but definitely not pounding the downtown Dallas pavement. Besides, my 5k was simply leaving the house before 6 AM and leaving Texas to go to Dallas…

Almost to the Finish Line…

The only reason I mention any of this is because of the amazing things God is doing in my son’s life. I’m a very proud father and want to brag on my son. You see, Adrian and I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together until several weeks ago. He was constantly working and rarely had time to hang out. We talked every week or so, but time together was beyond few and in between. Like it or not, that’s how it was.

That began to change a two or three months ago. Adrian was dealing with an extremely uncomfortable situation in his life. I won’t go into detail but I had been there at one point as well. While I don’t wish that on anyone, especially my son, I’ve come to see it as another of God’s lavish gifts. I began to spend more time with Adrian. I began to see how God moves in his life and what a good man he is. I’ve always known that, but there was something special, something spiritual in nature, shining a light on God’s grace for all of us.

My son has always had a relationship with God, and for that I’m grateful. Yet, watching it grow into a daily walk with Jesus has been one of the pleasures in life that only a parent can fully appreciate. Moreover, work, while still important, has taken a back seat to matters of the heart and spiritual growth. I guess that’s one reason I get up early on a holiday to watch him run. His running successes are outward reflection of his inward growth. I’m awed and, quite frankly, bursting with pride. That’s my boy!

After a long hiatus from competition of the physical kind, he started running again. I’ve shared with you his first 5K and his first Spartan race. When he finished Thursday’s race he had shaved 5 minutes off his previous time. To a longtime runner this may not be a big deal; but to someone who only started running on a daily basis a few weeks ago this might as well be a gold medal!

Am I bragging? Yes, I am; and no, I won’t apologize for it. Am I living a bit vicariously through his success! More than likely, but I think all parents do as our children grow older. God allows those of us fortunate enough to be parents to revel in our children’s glory, even when our (or at least my) parenting skills were less than stellar. If we’re lucky, we not only get to brag but become closer to them, and filled with pride and joy at the grown-ups they’ve become…

That’s MY boy!

*** In no way do I wish to overlook the success of Adrian’s younger brother and my son Jeremy. So here’s an unashamedly plug for him – Jeremy, is a emerging artist in the art scene. He both curates shows and has his own exhibitions. In fact, for those of you here in North Texas, his next exhibition will be on July 12th at the Fort Worth Community Arts Center!

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Spartans and Teamwork

Thoughts from the Porch: Summer is officially here. The summer equinox is in the rear-view mirror. The days will grow shorter though no one will notice (or care) for the next three months. While we normally experience summer drought, this year has kept the rains coming into June. We had another huge thunderstorm last night. It’s the third Sunday in a row for North Texas. I am eternally grateful for the rain as we’re still working on irrigation for the farm. I could do without the straight-line winds though. I’ll be clearing out tree limbs for the next couple of hours…

I had the privilege of attending my first Spartan race this Saturday at AT&T Stadium (Home of the Dallas Cowboys or “Jerryworld” as it’s known locally). I didn’t realize what a big deal a Spartan race is. The fact they were holding it at the stadium should’ve been a clue. There were folks from all over the country racing Saturday. The first competitors started early in the morning and they were still starting racers when I left at 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon.

The Second Obstacle – makes me dizzy thinking about it…

My oldest son, Adrian, started running and working out regularly again. Last month he ran his first 5K in twenty years and finished first in his age group. I was proud of him and quite impressed! Saturday he was more concerned about simply finishing and helping other team members than where he placed in the race. I’m far more impressed by his heart than I am by his race time.

Over the first wall…

He formed a team with several other guys that shared the same race coach for the day. Although they hadn’t meet each other before the race, they bonded as a team and helped one another through a grueling race and obstacle course. One of the team members struggled and fell farther behind than the others. Finally, the rest of the team had to press forward, leaving him behind with the team coach. The other members went on to complete the course.

Finished the First One!

Adrian crossed the finish line and we celebrated together. Then he returned to the field to join the rest of his team look for the one runner still on the course. When he entered the field from the punishing run up and down the stairs at AT&T Stadium his team members were there to cheer him on.

Then an amazing thing happened…

The other team members joined him on the course to complete the final obstacles alongside him. It may not seem like a big deal, but understand, these guys had already completed the course. They were tired and sore. Most importantly, they didn’t have to do it. They ran through the remaining three obstacles and crossed the finish line together – as a team!

None of these guys had met before Saturday. The only thing they had in common was the Spartan coach they’d each paid extra for. Still, they became a real team. They were there for each other; the perfect example of sportsmanship.

Running and racing is generally thought of as an individual, not a team, sport. Adrian and his fellows reminded me one more time of the importance of teamwork. No one is left behind and forgotten simply because “I” finished. It’s about finishing together and relying on each other. I truly am my brother’s keeper and not just at a Spartan race…

I will remember Adrian’s example more than I’ll ever remember his race time. Thank you, Son for the reminder of what’s truly important. Individual accomplishments are great, but team accomplishments, what we do together as a community, mean the most. I’m proud of you, Son!

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Happy Father’s Day!

Yesterday was an amazing (and extremely lo-o-o-ng day). We worked at the Juneteenth celebration at TCC South campus. A huge thank you to Tarrant Area Food Bank. They were there early in the morning unloading a semi-trailer full of food – apples, oranges, potatoes, lettuce, milk, and so forth (all wonderful, healthy stuff!) – to be handed out to the people celebrating Juneteenth! By eight o’clock yesterday evening we had given away what seemed liked endless pallets of food…

Opal’s Farm was there too. We had fresh squash and green beans. We had seeds, cups, and organic potting soil so the kids could plant their very own herbs. We instructed them on taking care of the plants and how to use them as seasonings for the food at home. All in all, in was a fantastic day.

I was tired this morning and overslept. I had to jump in the shower and run to the great meeting we have each Sunday. I was only able to get half a cup of coffee down before running out the door. Needless to say, I came home convinced I needed to go back to bed. I decided to brew a pot instead and after three cups of coffee I’m wide awake and grateful for another Father’s Day.

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I thought of my sons and called them both. I wished my younger one a happy Father’s Day vis voicemail. He’s filled my life with four of our five grandchildren. My older one isn’t a father yet but I needed to tell him how blessed my life has been because he came into it.

I was scrolling through two days of email when I came across his social media post. His profile pic had changed to one of he and I at Texas Motor Speedway for the Spring NASCAR race. It may sound silly, but I was overcome with emotion when I saw it. Tears streamed down my face (my friend Edgar says I get to cry like a man today…)

You see, I was a single father and not a great one at that. Addiction has a way of interfering with good intentions. It caused a lot of harm and scars, but the good news is years of recovery have healed the relationship I have with my boys today. Despite me and because of my later recovery my boys have grown into fine men.

I got myself together and called my older son, Adrian, to let him know what a precious gift his post was on this Father’s Day. He was on his way home from church. He told me the pastor spoke of the Prodigal Son today. I had to laugh at the timing. I’m acutely aware of and grateful for a Father that loves no matter how far I strayed from His presence. I was reminded the parable could easily be called “the Prodigal Father”, because of the relationship I have with my sons today. Grace is amazing…

I don’t have a lot of time to write today. You see, I get to spend time with a loving God and because of Him, a loving family. At some point today I’ll be at the cemetery to wish my father a Happy Father’s Day and to tell him how much I love and miss him. I wish the same for you all. Have a blessed and Happy Father’s Day!

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Always Remember

It’s a brilliant, sunny late Spring day here in North Texas. Soon I’ll head off to Opal’s Farm. It’s been incredibly busy. Our first harvest of French Breakfast Radishes came in. We have about a hundred pounds bundled for sale and another hundreds pounds still to harvest. The beans and peas are in full bloom and squash is getting almost big enough to pick.

I haven’t had a great deal of time to write this last week with all the goings on. This week marked the 75th anniversary of the Normandy invasion that turned the tide in the Allies favor during World War Two. Those who know me might find it peculiar I’m memorializing warfare. My faith calls me to be a non-violent peacemaker. Still, I know my calling is not shared by everyone and I honor the veterans who fought for their beliefs and each other.

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Tom Brokaw coined the term “the greatest generation” when speaking of my parents peers. As a history student I was always intrigued by the men who fought so gallantly during “The War” as it came to be known. I grew up on the great epic movies about WWII- “Patton”, “The Battle of the Bulge”, Guns of Navarrone”, John Wayne and “The Fighting Seabees” and so forth. I saw “The Great Escape” at the long since demolished Gateway Theater twice a day on three successive Saturday matinees (for 50 cents admission I might add). Steve McQueen was my hero…

Things changed and I grew past the illusions I was taught. After all, “history is written by the victors” and subsequent wars proved to be void of morality. It’s no longer about defense but about gain. War is usually started by men who have never served. They were wealthy or powerful enough to worm their way out of military service. They’re quite content to let your young men fight for their wants while they talk about how patriotic they are; but enough said or I’ll get started…

Still, those WWII vets always held a special place of honor above all others. Perhaps its because of my father and my uncle’s (one of whom died at Anzio, Italy) service. It’s a way I hang onto them as well. They never spoke of their service. They did what they were called to do and now they’re gone, like so many of their generation. I miss them.

There are only 1.7 million WWII vets alive today. Their time is growing short. The “greatest generation” will pass away and become memory. That’s why it’s so important (for me anyway) to cherish the time I’m given with some of the men who served. They’re more likely to share about it today if you ask. I encourage you to ask. Not only will you be riveted to their stories, you’ll pay them honor and respect as well.

This is my small tribute to those men that leapt of the boats at Normandy seventy-five years ago. Thank you for being part of my life and sharing your stories.

“I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day when he said, ‘Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?’ Grandpa said, ‘No, but I served in a company of heroes.'” —Major Richard Winters

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Kids…

Thoughts From the Porch: Saturday was Margaret’s birthday. Yesterday was my oldest son’s birthday. April is a good month! I pay little attention to the whole horoscope thing, but I sometimes wonder why my life is filled with so many Aries signs. Could be something to it but who knows?

Sitting on the porch this morning, enjoying the sunrise, I thought back to the day each of my boys were born. My memory isn’t so great anymore. I can’t tell you specifics like the weather and surroundings, unless of course it’s my youngest son. His birth was rather unforgettable. He decided to make his appearance on the very day a hundred-year blizzard hit Denver in 1982. We went to the hospital in a Jeep Wagoneer someone had volunteered to haul the paramedics since the ambulances couldn’t get around. The snow was so deep it took a week to dig out. You don’t forget something like that.

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Adrian, my older one, had the misfortune to be born in Dallas (that’s the only hospital that honored our insurance). We were concerned that friends and family wouldn’t recognize him as a native Texan and hence, his birthright. We’re not real sure Dallas is really part of Texas. However, he overcame that disability in quick fashion. After much legal (and family) wrangling, his birth certificate mandates his Texas citizenship…

The boys are as different as night and day, and the differences were apparent early on. The standing joke is that Adrian popped out of the birth canal asking if he could rest and get something to eat if that was no problem. He was laid back and easygoing, even as a baby. His brother, however, was the complete opposite. When he made his appearance almost two years later, he instantly demanded to be fed and have the nursery redone to suit his tastes. Anyone who knows them today will see the humor in that.

A father sees their children differently than the rest of the world sees them. Fathers lack objectivity in the perception of their kids: every one of them has the best kids in the world. That’s the way it should be. I don’t want to start an argument with anyone. Please know that since I have the best kids in the world, that doesn’t mean you don’t. Most of us have a perception problem when it comes to our children and despite what our culture tells us, it’s not a competition.

I got to spend some time with Adrian yesterday. That’s two weekends in a row and that’s a miracle of biblical proportions. He works a lot and his schedule rarely fits mine. Our times together are few and much farther between than I like. He recently started dating a young lady who is far more attractive and interesting than his old man. I appreciate that she receives more attention than I do. I’d probably be a bit worried if it were otherwise…

Thank you, Son for a great weekend. I hope you enjoyed your birthday. I know I did. Funny thing is though, I received the birthday gift – getting to spend time with you.

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