Category: Faith

Activism, Christianity, Citizenship, Faith, Family, Freedom, Gratitude, Hope, Immigration, Neighbors, Prayer, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality

Freedom Party

gregoryjoel

The easterly winds gusted through here last night and left a bunch of fallen limbs throughout the yard. They dropped the temperature by a few degrees, even if it only fell into the eighties. This time of year, it’s much the same. It’s just plain hot, so I’m relishing in the cooler morning. I couldn’t help but notice that the Northeast is under a heat advisory since they’ll be above ninety degrees for seven days in a row. Even though heat advisories are no laughing matter, I still chuckle a bit. I guess it’s like when they laugh at us for closing school because we received a dusting of snow…

Like many of you, I’ve been watching the unfolding story of immigrant families on the border. News reports come out everyday that always seem to reflect the inhumane and confusing treatment of the people there. There were marches and protests in all fifty states over the weekend. The only positive thing I can find in all this mess is that people finally said ‘enough’ and took some action. It galvanized the public in a time of extreme divisiveness. At least we can agree on how human beings should be treated. How long it will be sustained is anyone’s guess. I hope it won’t fade away quietly when the media finds new sensational headlines.

Over the last few weeks, my time on the porch always seems to come back to the questions of ‘who are we’ and what is ‘patriotism’? I ran across a recent Gallup poll that reported only 47% of Americans feel ‘extremely proud’ of being American. That’s the first time that it’s no longer a majority since Gallup began asking the question some eighteen years ago. In looking at the polling, it seems that it’s been in a sharper decline since Trump was elected. I can understand that. I’m embarrassed at times, too…

One of my favorite recording artists is Jackson Browne. There’s a song on his 1989 release, World In Motion titled “I Am a Patriot”, and the bridge of the song sums up my ‘patriotism’, given this week’s Fourth of July holiday:

“And I ain’t no communist

And I ain’t no capitalist

And I ain’t no socialist

 

And I ain’t no democrat

And I ain’t no republican

I only know one party

And it is freedom

 

I am, I am, I am

I am a patriot

And I love my country”

Because my country is all I know”

 

‘Patriot’ is not a label many of my more conservative friends would assign to me. I’m okay with that because I believe my true citizenship transcends man-made boundaries. Yet, on this Fourth of July holiday, I feel a little patriotic when I see the polling numbers about civil embarrassment and the thousands of people that marched this weekend in support of keeping immigrant families together. Maybe others are questioning ‘who we are’, as well. I hope so.

To all of my American friends I wish you a Happy and safe Independence Day holiday.  Enjoy your day off with family and friends, eat lots of hamburgers, and enjoy the fireworks. To the rest of my friends around the world – I am truly embarrassed. Be patient with us. We’re still under construction…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Letting Go, Neighbors, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Work, Writing

Looking at sixty…

gregoryjoel

I know everyone is getting ready to celebrate the 4th of July but my Independence Day began at 9:15 this morning. My doctor pulled my PICC line and I’m free from my little IV buddy. You all are probably relieved as well. No more having to read about me being under house arrest. I still need to keep the dressing dry for another eight hours. Then, I can officially sweat again. That should be easy as the weather folks are saying it’ll be another 100-plus degree day. I stand in defiance and yell, “Bring it on”. “Free at last”…

Since I went to the doctor, I didn’t get to spend much time on the porch this morning. It’s probably just as well. The heat’s already difficult to deal with and the air seems very still and humid. It didn’t keep me from making another pot of coffee and perusing the newsfeed though. Through the dissonance of all the Monday morning news I found one article worthy of attention. The headline was something like “The One Thing People Over Fifty Regret Most”. I emailed it to myself for later and then the link didn’t work. I truly regret that I didn’t read the whole thing first…

Anyway, I did some research and found another list of the fifty things people over fifty regret the most. I’ll be fifty-nine for another month, so I guess I still qualify. As I read I began to feel better about my emotional and mental health. Of course, it could also be sociopathic behavior, but I prefer to think positively.

According to the MSN Lifestyle section, the number one regret among people my age is “ending a relationship with someone you loved”. I was a little surprised, but I can see that. There’s something about ‘the one that got away’ that seems to stay with us a long time. That hasn’t been my experience though. My first marriage didn’t work out so well. It was mostly my fault, but there’s no regret there. I stayed single for many years afterward. I dated and had a couple of long-term relationships that bring fond memories, but I can’t think of any regrets. I did for a long time but five-and-a-half years ago, I found out that God had something (or more accurately, someone) in mind for me all along. I married my best friend and the love of my life. Scratch off resentment number one…

The number two resentment listed was “not being more adventurous”. If I have any regret about this one, it has more to do with being too adventurous in my younger years. Then again, I could easily substitute ‘being adventurous’ with acting stupid. That’s far more accurate. I did a lot of stupid, and often insane things, now that I look back. In case my look backwards becomes cloudy, I have aches and pains (and the medical bills) to remind me of the foolishness of my youth. Boring is much easier on the body. Every now and then I get a wild hair and think I’m twenty-something again, and I’m quickly reminded I’m not…

As I went down the list, I realized that recovery, a relationship with the God of my understanding, and the love of friends and family has helped me come to terms with what were once regrets. I won’t lie and say I have none. I don’t think anyone can be totally free of regrets, but they’ve become manageable as I grow older.

What really surprised me about the Top Fifty Regrets was that kids and parents were way down on the list. Even though a lot of healing went into my relationships with my parents and children, I wish the damage had never occurred in the first place. My father passed in 2002 and my mother just last year. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them and I often wish I had been a better son. I’m a hardhead and I know I was a handful. So, I try to live each day in a manner that makes them proud. I’m not sure if it constitutes a regret. I’m sure they smile on me today.

I know most parents wish they had done things differently. I sure do. Unfortunately, kids don’t come with instruction manuals and sometimes they pay dearly for our struggles as parents. I know mine did. I’m not confused about that today. I’m truly grateful when my boys go out of their way to show their love for me as their often imperfect father. My oldest came by the other night with a belated Father’s Day gift, a picture of Roger Staubach and Tom Landry on the sidelines back in 1969. If you know how I felt about the old Dallas Cowboys, you’d know how much it meant to me. Grace is such a wonderful thing…

Thankfully, my regrets list is small, although I could really understand number thirty-four on the list, “being ungrateful”. It took a long, long time to find gratitude in my life. I wish I had been more grateful for the life God gave me. An old friend used to always say “you lead such a charmed life”. I was in my late forties before I understood what she meant. I do lead a charmed life, despite a lengthy list of bad decisions and deplorable actions. That’s why, for me, everything is about grace and gratitude.

I think that the deeper one experiences the grace of a loving God, family, and friends, the easier it is to be grateful. That’s been my experience and observation anyway. When I’m honest enough to admit my failures and find forgiveness anyway, I can’t help but be grateful, and that gratitude leaves me with very little regret. Go figure…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Gardening, Gratitude, Hope, Marriage, Neighbors, Prayer, Simplicity, Texas, Writing

Just another Sunday…

gregoryjoel

The days roll by much faster than they used to. It’s hard to believe that July is already here. The heat came earlier than usual this year and the yard is littered with dry leaves that have fallen from the Ash trees. I have a feeling that we all need to get used to warmer weather. It seems like every summer makes it into the record books in one way or another. At least there’s a strong southerly breeze this morning. I still have an hour or so of comfort out here on the porch…

It’s difficult to stay in the moment this morning. I get my little IV infusion buddy taken out tomorrow and I can’t wait. It’s been an annoyance for a couple of months now. My days are planned out around when the IV needs to be changed. The thing that really gets me is not being able to work outside. I know I’ve gone on and on about this before but understand that I don’t do well locked away in the house. Besides, the horses need their cookies and I’ve stayed away from the stables for way too long. Jamison and I both could use some long walks again.

The garden, except for the tomatoes and peppers, has surrendered to the heat. After I go to the doctor in the morning I already have my work out there planned. There’s something about working the soil that soothes the soul. I find a lot of peace and a great deal of joy working in the garden. Between the soil, the dogs, and the horses my life is complete!

It’s been busy this week and there’s really no news nor thoughts to share from the porch this morning. Margaret and I shared some time together. My son stayed the night and joined us for a bit, despite the fact he’s not much of a morning person. Life is simple. Life is good.

I skipped church service this morning. I wanted to steal every moment of cool from the porch this morning. When the sweat finally began to roll I headed inside for my morning ritual of daily news. The most beautiful thing about Sunday is that it’s a slow news day. I’m grateful. Everyone needs a day of rest.

I hope this finds you all well. I’m so grateful for the people God has placed in my life, whether family, close friends, or readers of these wandering thoughts. I spend a lot of time reading your blogs as well and I’m grateful for our community. May you all have a blessed Sunday!

Christianity, Communication, Dogs, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Immigration, LGBTQ, Marriage, Politics, Recovery, Spirituality

Foxes and protest marches…

gregoryjoel

Disclaimer: My editor, (Margaret) is out to a late breakfast and a movie with a friend of ours. It’s really hard to edit myself so please excuse any errors. I love you Margaret and your help is greatly appreciated. I love baby…

 

I slept in this morning. It was after nine o’clock when I was finally awakened by Miss Maggie giving me my morning bath. All you pet parents will know what I mean. Please understand that Maggie is half Catahoula and half coyote. She has her “wild” moments and she’s quite the huntress, catching birds in mid-air, and bringing dead rats and possums in the house. Her eyes are different from most dogs I’ve known. You would have to see them to know what I mean, but there’s an alertness and an awareness that’s goes well beyond that of domesticated dogs. I guess that what makes our bond so special. Our other two, Jameson and Sadie, favor Margaret, but Maggie is all mine…

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The porch was unbelievably pleasant this morning even though the sun had been up for a while. I sat with my wife for a while and got to speak to our kid before she left. I was curious as to why she was up so early. Classes are out for the summer and I know she was binge-watching Jurassic Park movies with friends last night. The only reason I was up early on Saturdays when I was twenty-seven was because I had kids by then.

 

I was extremely pleased when she told me she was off to the Families Should Stay Together march in downtown Fort Worth, protesting the insane, inhumane, and immoral immigration policies of Mr. Trump and his cronies. I’d love to be there, but I’m still tethered to my little IV buddy (only until Monday!) and can’t be in the heat. Margaret wanted to go as well. Even though she’s far more conservative than I am, she’s a mom and she’s outraged that families are torn apart. We asked Gael to please raise her voice a little louder and represent us as well.

 

Our daughter has officially `come out’ as transgender. Since she posted it on Facebook I don’t have a problem with saying it (or writing it) aloud. I’m not sure what all that means. She has asked us to refer to her in the third person. As a writer I have some difficulty with that. It’s just not proper English. However, out of respect for her I’ll refer to her in the third person for the duration of this post. I’m not sure how I feel about that if I’m honest with you and with her. It doesn’t make a difference though as I love our kid no matter how `they’ identify.

 

It’s taken me a long journey to reach that point. I was raised in a very conservative religious background, so I carried a lot of baggage into adulthood. Like everything else in life, it requires a lot of conversations, a lot of prayer, and a lot of meditation. I still don’t have all the answers, but I refuse to preach drivel when I know that all of us are God’s kids. If I’m wrong, and I don’t believe I am, God accepts us where and for who we are regardless of labels and identification.

 

I must admit that I don’t often understand all the labels. I know it’s important for people who have lived with discrimination and, often hate, to come out and let everyone know that they’re one of God’s kids just like everyone else. Growing up as a socially awkward introvert, I know what it’s like to bully to fit in with the crowd and be bullied because someone is different. I’m thankful that as time goes on, we’ve become more tolerant and less judgmental as a people. We still have a long way to go. I’m grateful for those who take a stand for dignity, equality, and what is right. I’m proud of who `they’ are.

 

When Margaret and I married five-and-a-half years ago, we decided that we had no `step’ kids. They were all our children, even if they were grown. So, when Gael asked if `they’ could move in with us, so `they’ could go back to college, we invited `them’ home, and this is `their’ home.  I emphasize that because we are known to have our occasional conflicts and frustrations. The reason has more to do with the fact that she’s so much like me than anything else. Even though I didn’t come to know her until she was a young adult, she’s like me in so many ways. She’s as passionate about loving others, social equality, and injustice as I am. It’s not surprising that we but heads from time to time…

 

So, that being said, `they’ probably don’t have a clue how special this morning was to me. I’m proud that `they’ are marching today, and a heartfelt thank you out to `them’. More than that, it was when `they’ were leaving this morning, Gael went in a brought me out a cup of coffee. I know that sounds incredibly trivial and unimportant. It’s what `they’ brought in that was super special.

 

When Gael moved in, `they’ had a coffee mug that was singled out as one we couldn’t use. It was `their’ `fox’ mug and had special meaning for her. We’ve always respected `their’ wishes and we’ve never drank from it before. When Gael brought my coffee, guess what it was in! I wouldn’t have been surprised if we were short on coffee mugs, but the dishes are done and there’s no shortage in our house, believe me. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not, but Margaret tells me it’s a big deal. Heck, I was just thankful `they’ brought me a cup of coffee. I didn’t know I was getting so much more.

 

So, Gael, I’m sure it’s hot and uncomfortable downtown this morning, but thank you for being there and for simply being you. I’m proud of you and want you to know I love and appreciate you – even when I’m a stubborn old fart…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gratitude, Marriage, Service Organizations, Simplicity, Uncategorized, Work, Writing

Passion…

gregoryjoel

I had an early morning doctor appointment this morning, so my time on the porch was brief. By the time I got home the porch was getting a bit warm. According to the meteorologist on last night’s news, it looks like the upper nineties and triple digit heat will be here for a while. That leaves a smaller window for enjoying the porch (in comfort, at least).

I read a brief article this morning about how finding one’s passion isn’t always the best advice when it comes to employment. It seems it tends to create a certain degree of tunnel vision that may not allow one to see other possibilities and limit human growth. I’m not sure why, but that’s been bothering me all morning.

My wife and I have this conversation from time to time. One of my sons is an artist. He comes complete with all the personality one might expect when one thinks of an artist. He’s incredibly bright and, has what he calls, an extreme case of Adult ADD. He started drawing on the walls when he was a toddler and hasn’t stopped since. Many of his personal and collaborative murals can be found throughout Fort Worth

Jeremy is one of the ‘up and comers’ in the art scene. He’s curated several shows and exhibited in other cities. His gallery opening at Fort Works Art was a huge success. Last week he made the cover of Fort Worth Weekly, our weekly magazine and the headline said, “Inside Jeremy Joel’s Brain”. I must admit that the idea scared me a bit. After all, I’m his father and anyone with kids knows, eccentricities aren’t always pleasant to deal with. Still, I’m unbelievably proud of him, though I’ll be the first to tell you I’m not very objective.

I’m proud of all our kids and I don’t want any of them to think I’m singling out Jeremy for praise. I never wanted to stifle any of my children’s passion. They are all very different, with unique talents, interests, and careers. I mention Jeremy because he struggled with the question of art versus work and passion versus making a living. I haven’t always liked his decisions along the journey, but it appears he’s on track with the thing he loves to do.

I’m always a little jealous of those that seem to find a way to make their passion their living. It wasn’t that way for me. It took me almost fifty years to become passionate in my work.  Today, I ‘get to’ get out of bed, put the coffee on, and spend some time on the porch getting centered in my day. I step into my office where I often share some thoughts with all of you and spend the rest of the day working on writing projects and events that I’m extremely passionate about. I work mostly with non-profit and faith-based organizations. I feel like I make a difference in the world. I wish I’d done it a long time ago.

I’ll be sixty years old in a couple of months. I’ve worked since I was eleven years old. I started as a paper boy and went on to become a gas station attendant (do any of you remember them?), a cook, and a construction worker by the time I was ready to start my ‘career’. I won’t bore you with all the details, except to say that when I got to college (I went on the ten-year plan), all I wanted to become was a college professor or teacher. I tell you this because that was my passion, and that’s not what I followed…

I decided that pleasing my father was more important than doing what I loved. You see, my parents lived through the Great Depression. That experience shaped the way they viewed work. My Dad was fortunate enough to land a job with the railroad when he was seventeen. A railroad job was coveted employment back in the forties. Except for the months he was drafted, he worked his way up through the ranks and continued there until he took early retirement at fifty-seven, with forty years of service. That my friends, was the job he wanted for me.

That wasn’t the case for me. My parents lived back here in Fort Worth and would call me in Colorado every week (we still used landlines and got charged for long distance calls – I know! Crazy, right?). My Dad would ask about school and then ask me if “I was still going to teach or was I going to get a job”. He would often remind me that “those who do, work and those who can’t, teach”. I certainly didn’t agree with him, but I chose to please him rather than continue with teaching. It wasn’t long before I found myself a single father and had felt like I had no choice but to follow my father’s advice. I went on to work for various companies and, while I was good at my work, always regretted not pursuing my passion for teaching.

I guess that’s why I’m a little bit jealous of Jeremy. I wish I had followed my passion. I’ve heard it said that “do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life”. I’ve found that to be true over the last few years. So, when Margaret and I have these conversations I tend to lean on the side of passion. She tends to lean towards the ‘do whatever you have to for your family’. I’d like to think that maybe there’s a balance, but maybe balance is often just ‘the beam I trip on while running between extremes’.

One thing I know for sure is that ‘making a difference’, no matter what I’m doing, has become a core value in my life today. I’m inclined to think that maybe work, no matter what it is, should be a way of ‘making a difference’. Maybe if that’s the passion, we can all find jobs we love. Just a thought…