Category: Emotional Health

Emotional Health, Faith, Grace, Gratitude, Heroes, Quotes, Role Models, Simplicity, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Jim-isms

gregoryjoel

February has long been my least favorite month of the year. I’m the only one with that opinion. I’d like to think the greeting card industry invented Valentines Day not simply as a way to sell more cards, but an attempt to take the edge off the shortest, most miserable month of the year. Heck, even the corporate types at the National Football League extended the season so that the Super Bowl falls in February. I’d like to think they did it out of compassion for my fellow February sufferers, but I’m pretty sure that the motive was simply to line their pockets with increased ticket and ad revenue. Besides, it offers a distraction from those Christmas bills that just came due…

Despite the twenty-eight-day (Julian had a little too much wine while figuring out calendar calculations, so he threw in an extra day every four years – it’s a leap, I know) depression that is February, it does have one saving grace – Groundhog Day. I’m not really into the weather prognostications of a fat, furry little rodent, but the movie is one of the all-time cinematic greats. Grace, whether in secular or religious form is one of my favorite stories. It’s a reminder that we always have the opportunity to reinvent ourselves daily. We don’t have to settle for continuing to be a butthead.

Photo by Joël de Vriend on Unsplash

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to take February, and most things in life, with a dose of salt. Most of the things I’ve deemed tragic episodes in my life have turned out to be some of the biggest blessings. The inverse is true as well. The things I was ecstatic about turned out to be not so great. I’ve decided to just take it as it comes. As my friend Jim always reminded me, “Chop wood and let the chips fall where they may…”

It was February 15th, 2018 when I lost my friend Jim. I guess I didn’t really “lose” him. I have a pretty good idea he’s off fishing with Jesus and telling fisherman’s tales (no lying about the one that got away Jim, okay?). I simply wish he’d stayed here a bit longer. I guess it’s that way with all the people you love and care about: especially those who impacted you in a big way. Maybe that’s why February remains at the bottom of the list.

We held a celebration of Jim’s life on Tuesday at two o’clock in the afternoon on a mild February day. I’m not sure how many people were there, but it was a big crowd. He impacted the lives of so many. It was an eclectic bunch of church members and some not-so churchy- folks from recovery groups that Jim attended (seeing bikers sitting next to proper Baptist folks was a treat!). Before the service, I asked his wife, Sharon, if she had intentionally planned the service for Tuesday at two. She looked at me a bit puzzled and said “No, why?”

I had to laugh. Only Jim could pull this one off. I explained to her that when I would tell Jim about the difficult times in my life, he’d always say, “it’ll get better”.

“When Jim. When is it going to get better?”

He’d always reply somberly, “Tuesday at two o’clock. It’ll all be better on Tuesday at two o’clock”. He never knew what Tuesday or whether it would be two in the morning or two in the afternoon, but he was always right. It always got better. I didn’t always know the exact moment it happened, but it was always by Tuesday at two o’clock. I’m sure he still gets a good laugh out of that one…

There are three men who are my heroes. They all share the superpowers of unconditional love and wisdom – my father, my friend Edgar, and Jim. Each had their own way of using their superpowers. My father gave me solid values and wise counsel, which I usually failed to heed. When I finally surrendered my rebellious self-centeredness, he was awaiting my return like the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son (and more than just once I can assure you). If God has a human face, I’m pretty sure He looks a lot like Dad.

My friend Edgar has been my friend, confidant, and mentor of sorts for almost three decades. He’s seen me at my very worst. He’s been there to dust me off and help me back on the proverbial horse more times than I’d care to admit. He believed in me when no one else would. Not many people have friends like Edgar. This blessing is not lost on me.

Then there’s Jim. A few Februarys have passed since that day in 2018. Not a day goes by that I don’t hear Jim’s voice telling me one of his “Jim-isms” – things he would say for whatever life might throw at me. “Jim-isms” were not always original, some came from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, some from older guys in recovery programs, and some were just time-tested West Texas sayings he’d grown up with. Somehow they all became Jim’s.

While the list of “Jim-isms” is long, there are two or three that stand out above the rest. First, there’s “This thing is too damn simple to be taken so damn seriously”. That was often coupled with “Son, don’t complicate the corn flakes”. Quite trying to be so intense. There’s nothing new under the sun. Above all, quit trying to make the simple so damn difficult. Remember Occam’s Razor- “the best solution to any problem is usually the simplest one.”

The other “Jim-ism” that hits home on a daily basis (and usually several times a day) is this, “When it’s over it will all be okay. If it ain’t okay, then it’s not over.” When I listen to the torrent of news about hate-filled people doing hateful things, about systemic and brutal racism, and about Christian Nationalist who blatantly misrepresent God in their pursuit of power and hegemony I have to remember this “Jim-ism” above all. It’s the one that reminds me that God is in control, that love always wins, and the arc of justice may be longer than I’d like, but it is an arc that is leading to the Kingdom of God.

Lately, there has been a lot of talk among my friends and neighbors about how tired everyone is – tired of COVID, tired of grief, tired of the police shootings and oft repeated news of insane mass shootings, and most of al, tired of the vitriol and division we live with every day. Faith and Jim-isms tell me to remind you all that:

“When it’s over it’ll all be okay and if it ain’t okay, then it’s not over” and “It’ll be better Tuesday at 2:00”

Bible, Choices, Common Sense, Consequences, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Faith, God's Economics, Grace, Gratitude, Opal's Farm, Patience, Quotes, Regeneration, Revival, Simplicity, Spirituality, Stories, Thoughts From the Porch, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming, What Can I Do

Sabbath Rest?

gregoryjoel

I grew up in a religious home just like many others. My family attended church the prerequisite three times a week for “salvation” – Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday evening. Sunday nights were rarely fun for me. Service started at the same time as “The Wonderful World of Disney”. If my parents took us to dinner with their friends afterwards then count on missing “Bonanza” too. I seemed to get sick a lot on Sunday evenings. I could even “will” myself to have a low-grade fever just so I wouldn’t miss the Sunday night TV lineup. Seriously, I learned how to drive my body temperature up just enough that Mom would stay home from church with me. I found out later they call it biofeedback…

Although I always had to sit through a service designed to create a Hyperactive Attention Deficit Disorder in children, I liked Sunday morning “Sunday School” before the worship service and Wednesday night Bible Class. It was a chance to be with my friends and there were great activities to learn all the old Bible stories. Being “Bible believing” Church of Christ members, each of stories were taught as indisputable historical truth and the Bible was how God spoke period! Such teaching became Christian “evidence” by the time I reached my teenage years so that I could certainly argue with any sane, scientific, rational person out there…

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

I don’t see my faith, or the Bible, the same way today. In fact, some of the things I learned were a detriment, causing all kinds of shame and self-hate. Grace was some abstract theological term that really didn’t apply to me. If personal piety is a prerequisite for heavenly salvation, then I’m so screwed. Still, I’m grateful that Mom and Dad “raised me right”, as we say in Texas. Those stories laid the foundation for the relationship I have with God today. Grace has brought healing to my human brokenness and gratitude sustains me as I walk through life today.

Just so you know… God didn’t go silent after the Bible was finished and canonized by the state church at the Council of Nicaea. He actually speaks quite regularly if I (and we) take time to listen. He still needs shout with an occasional head slap at times to get my attention, but I’m much better at hearing him than I used to be. Let me give you a recent example…

Opal’s Farm is growing (both literally and figuratively) by leaps and bounds this year. Our new partnership with Tarleton State University, the “Time Served is Not Time Wasted” program, our SSARE (part of USDA) Research Grant with TCU, serving as the flagship for urban farming here in Fort Worth, and having both an Assistant Farm Manager and part-time farm apprentice have opened new opportunities to grow as an organization and serve our community better. It’s an exciting and busy time. In addition, continuing education and serving on a couple of local committees rapidly overfills the days. I, and my Assistant Farm Manager put in many hours trying to make things happen.

However, in the midst of this work, I made a point to save more time for reading and continuing education on a personal level. I read a lot – whether it be books, fellow bloggers, or newsletters – and I began to notice a pattern slowly emerging in each of them. The words Sabbath rest repeated regularly; especially as I became more tired and honestly, cantankerous. I began to lose patience with those closest to me and became constantly restless, irritable, and discontented. Even my reading dropped off. Who has time to read AND comprehend? All the while the pattern of Sabbath rest became louder and stronger. I had too much to do to rest. I’ve always known the importance of Sabbath rest. It’s in the creation story and it’s one of the Ten Commandments. I’ve simply been extremely lax in practicing it.

In Genesis 2.2-4, it tells us that after six days of creation, God finished His work and rested from all His work. As The Message translation puts it, “God blessed the seventh day. He made it a Holy Day because on that day He rested from His work, all the creating he had done.” Later, in the Book of Exodus, at Mt. Sinai, God speaks what we call The Ten Commandments, or The Decalogue, and states that His people are to “Observe the Sabbath, and keep it holy”. He goes on to restate that even he rested on the seventh day after creating the Earth.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I never took those words at face value, but the final straw caught up to me in the form of a republished Walter Bruggeman’s “Deliver Us”. I won’t take this opportunity to expound on the text, but it caused me to see how I become a self-made slave when I forget that God is one of abundance and not scarcity that drives me (and us) to constantly seek enough.   

I learned many years ago that God is “enough”. My problem though, as my friend Jim told me, is “not that I’m a slow learner, its that I’m a fast forgetter”. I subtly fall into an endless chase for “enough” – enough finances, enough savings, – and “more” – more people helped, more work at Opal’s Farm, more of (fill in the blank). It’s no wonder I become restless, irritable, and discontented…

The problem is that when you know, you know, or as my mentor would say, “Once you’re aware you can’t become unaware. I know that God is enough, and it’s been proven in my life time after time. God has spoken quite clearly. If He needs to rest maybe I should follow his lead. Maybe I should take a Sabbath rest. Maybe I need a Holy day to stop, see where I’m at, and rest in his presence. Maybe we all do…

I decided that Amber and I, as the two full-time employees at the farm, were no longer going to work seven days a week as we often do. We are going to take a “Sabbath”, not literally mind you (it doesn’t have to be the “seventh” day), but a day off where the farm is somewhere else, and we can rest and “re-create” to do what we love in the coming days with new energy and possibility.

It’s not easy. I’m sitting at my desk, writing this, and constantly reminding myself that Opal’s Farm is in good hands and fighting the urge to go and “just see how things are going”. Farming is a full-time job. New seed needs water and new beds must be ready for the rest of Spring planting. Bad weather slowed everything down through the Fall and early winter. Now unusually mild and dry weather has required daily irrigation. Volunteers are scheduled to be there on the weekends. Someone needs to be there, right?

Someone is! We’ve worked out a schedule that allows one of us to be there each day, but we each have our figurative Sabbath. Just as importantly, we each have days we can work alone. We’re both introverts by nature and need some “me” time away from other people.

I intend to stay home today and relish the day I’ve been given. I already feel better. I didn’t set the alarm clock and slept until 7:30! Sabbath rest is also about liberation. Liberation from a system of scarcity, of oppression (and depression) and basking in the freedom of “enough”.

Choices, Christmas, Consequences, Depression, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Giving, Gratitude, Listening, Marriage, Prayer, Relationships, Seasons, Service to Others, Simplicity, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Christmas Feelings and Wishes

gregoryjoel

The sun is shining brightly reminding us that warmth is on its way after the brutal Arctic front plunged the thermometer for the last couple of days. We took the holidays off from Cowtown Farmers Market for the holidays so we could spend time with family and friends. The fifty-mile-an-hour wind that accompanied the freezing temperatures may have caused a longer absence from market – the low tunnels and bed coverings couldn’t stand up to the wind – but we won’t know the full extent of the damage until next week. At least we haven’t lost power and haven’t had to sleep with four big dogs and in insulated coveralls to stay warm!

I haven’t been able to muster a whole lot of Christmas spirit this year. Grief comes exceptionally strong this time of year – Jeremy was born on Christmas Day – and I associate the holidays with loss. I had planned to go to Kentucky to spend Christmas with Momma and the weather quashed that plan. Upon awakening this morning, I summoned all my energy to fight pulling the covers over my head and sleeping (or at least feigning sleep) until December 26th. I got up, brushed my teeth, and made coffee. I made breakfast for my wife and sat down and stared at the computer screen for a long while.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

There are some things I’ve learned about grief, mainly that it never goes away. The stretch of good days begins to become longer with time, but grief will rear its ugly head at the most inconvenient of times – a song, a scene in a movie, the holidays – the list goes on. This year it began early with an art show that was a tribute to Jeremy. Then came Thanksgiving and now Christmas.

Grief may never go away but difficult moments always pass. It will always go to sleep or at least retreat for a time. The retreats last longer than they did after Jeremy died. Greif may be overwhelming at times, but life still goes on. It only feels all consuming. I must no longer let feelings run my life, but I do have to feel them.

As I sat staring at the computer this morning it dawned on me that my grief has consequences not only for me but those close to me as well. I may not want to do Christmas, but my family does. Christmas is Margaret’s favorite holiday. I used to get the tree and Christmas decorations out early so she could wrap the house in decorations and Christmas spirit. Then her mobility became so limited. This year it fell on me to get everything out of the attic which I managed to put off until last week. My step kid was going to do the decorating, but it kept getting put off until finally my wife told me last night that I should put everything back in the attic. “Nobody else thought Christmas was important.” She didn’t say it with malice or sarcasm, but I could feel her disappointment.

So… I’m only going to sit here long enough to tell you that I’m off to set up the Christmas tree and decorate our home for tomorrow.

I want to wish each and every one of you a blessed and Merry Christmas. If you’re having a hard time with the holidays as so many do, please know that you’re not alone. My prayers go out to those for whom Christmas is a reminder of loss and pain. If you’re having a really tough time, I suggest what my friend Jim told me long ago, “If you’re wrapped up in your painful feelings, then go help someone else.” That’s what I’m going to do today. It’s always worked well in the past…

Awe, Belief, Communication, Community, Connection, Creation, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Environment, Faith, Gifts, Goodness, Grace, Gratitude, Opal's Farm, Regeneration, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Texas, Trinity River, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming

Meet Ethan Hawk

gregoryjoel

I had coffee on the porch this morning wearing comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt. I had to switch the sweatpants out for shorts! It’s been an up and down Fall temperature-wise. December is following the same train. The long-term forecast says I have another three to four weeks before the real winter weather hits (think second week in January y’all…) so I’ll get the row covers and the low tunnels ready. Winter is turning out to be a great season for Opal’s Farm.

The ultimate mission of Opal’s Farm and all of Unity Unlimited is to build a strong local community. Opal’s has always included the soil, the wildlife, and their habitat in that community. Just as all of God’s kids have a basic human right to the food we grow, all creation is sacred, given life by the creator.  Therefore, we are stewards and custodians of a sacred gift – one that is especially holy right here in the middle of Fort Worth.

We’ve always had an abundance of wildlife frequenting the farm. Three coyotes are seen regularly early in the mornings. Great Blue Herons nest on a tree-covered sand bar on the south end of the farm. Egrets are in abundance. This time of year, we also get the many geese, ducks, and cormorants migrating towards warmer climes. The Trinity River is often covered with huge flocks of ducks, geese, and sea gulls all sitting together. Sometimes we just have to stop working and marvel at the choreography of hundreds of them taking off from the water in their assigned flight crews.

We’ve recently discovered a new visitor – a bobcat that keeps ripping the Agribon covers and leaving headless field mice (and a lot of tracks) as gifts for us each morning. We’ve also found a ton of tiny native toads where our new beds are going. We have a farm turtle named Myrtle who trudges across the fields from time to time. We have the full complement of field mice, songbirds, other small field critters, and nutrias from the river.

My favorite though is our resident Cooper’s Hawk, Ethan (it was either Ethan or Tony but since he doesn’t have a skateboard…). Ethan has become quite a fixture at the farm. He moved into the big oak tree next to the farm last year. He even brought a mate with him this Spring, although we rarely see her. Our bird problems have been minimal since Ethan’s been around.

I’ve been clearing sections of sorghum and Sudan grass with a bushwhacker/weed trimmer and Ethan has started to stand behind me and wait until my bushwacker chases field mice into the open. It’s become a great place to hunt, and he stands closer to me each day. Close enough that I backed into him the other. He does not seem to be concerned about Amber and I. I don’t wish to anthropomorphize but I’m sure he understands us when we’re talking to him.

I stop to watch Ethan hunt quite often. I’m always enthralled by his beauty and thank God that he’s allowed us to be a part of his world. He’s a constant reminder of how important being a good steward of God’s creation is. St. Francis of Assisi reminds us of how interconnected God’s world is. It’s said he preached to the animals just as he carried the gospel to people. We often fail to remember just how precious all life – the natural world with its myriad of creatures and wonders – truly is. I’m so grateful to be a part of Opal’s Farm and to commune with the Creator and the created.

“God looked over everything He had made; it was good, so very good” (Genesis 1.31)

Children, Community, Dallas Cowboys, Emotional Health, Faith, Friendship, Grace, Grandchildren, Gratitude, Grief, Kentucky, Relationships, Stories, Texas, Thanksgiving, Uncategorized

Happy Holidays? Eh…

gregoryjoel

I always celebrate Thanksgiving with mixed emotions. If I look at the real history of the holiday it leaves little to celebrate. I’m sure that when the Wampanoag People feasted with the pilgrim colonists, saving them from a dreadful winter of starvation (because that’s what human beings do for one another) they had no idea what lay ahead. I’ve sure the pilgrims were thinking “thanks for the food. Next year we kill your women and children and steal your land.” It’s no wonder Thanksgiving is a day of mourning for my Indigenous brothers. True history is usually hard to celebrate.

However, I grew up in a middle-class, white, suburban, and fundamentalist Christian home in Texas. That’s not the Thanksgiving story I was told. Mine was much more pleasant than the reality and had a white supremacy spin put on the whole thing, but that another story. Thanksgiving became a holiday to be celebrated with too much food, family, friends, and Dallas Cowboy football. My Dad was transferred to Denver in 1969. Coloradoans didn’t take to Texans moving there (after skiing with them I understand why…) so all my parents’ friends (mostly ex-patriate Texans and mostly from church) got together each Thanksgiving to feast together and watch the Dallas Cowboys.

We communally held our breath as Clint Longley threw his “Hail Mary” pass to Drew Pearson to win the game against the hated Washington Redskins on Thanksgiving 1974. Clint was the son of one of our church members and big brother to one of my friends. He’d also graduated from Abilene Christian College which is where all of most of our friend’s children either went or would go. We all watched the number one moment in Thanksgiving history. I’ve never seen such excitement, and given what professional football has become, may never see again. I’m quite sure Jerry Jones is the anti-Christ…

Years have passed and many Thanksgivings have drifted in and out of my memory. Grown kids and grandkids make planning Thanksgiving difficult. This year I’ll put a smile on my face and hope January 2nd comes quickly. The holidays have become a difficult time for me. My son Jeremy died two years ago. He was born on Christmas Day during the Denver “Blizzard of ‘82” so the holidays bring a lot of melancholy with them. I miss my son. Grief is a bitch…

Last year, Margaret and I celebrated Thanksgiving with my “birth” family in Kentucky. It was amazing to be with so many people that looked like me. That helped me through so many difficult days. This year I got a phone call from Momma that took the wind out of whatever sails I had – the cancer has returned, and the prognosis is not good (Momma was quick to remind me not to count her out yet. They’ve said that before.) I’ll be spending Christmas in Kentucky this year, making new memories with my people, my Momma. Sometimes I think that Jeremy’s behind all this. I don’t think he wants this to be a depressing time of year for his family. I know Momma doesn’t. Maybe the new memories will make a difference. I hope so.

I’ve often thought Thanksgiving was more of a commercialized greeting card holiday. I strive to be grateful each and every day, not just on the fourth Thursday of November. Thanksgiving may be a special day to say thanks for the many blessings we have, but gratitude is something to be exercised all the time – 365 days a year. Gratitude is a verb, it’s action. Gratitude is taking care of the things we’ve been given – our world, our families, and each other.

We spent this Thanksgiving with friends, many of whom I haven’t seen in a couple of years (thanks to COVID). Our host reminded me that we were celebrating with our family of choice. It made me smile. It also reminded me to show my gratitude for the wonderful friends I have by being more accessible. I’m not going to wait for New Years to start on that resolution.

I hope that all of you had a blessed, peaceful Thanksgiving and the holidays bring you cheer, peace, and appreciation for all that’s been given each of you. I do appreciate so very much those of you who take a couple of minutes out of your busy day to read the ramblings of some old guy in Fort Worth, Texas!