Category: Faith

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Neighbors, Positive Thinking, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

“Won’t you be my neighbor?”

gregoryjoel

Another busy day lies in front of me so my time on the porch this morning has been extremely brief. Add to that the fact that it felt like I opened the oven door instead of the front door when I went out this morning and you’ll understand why I didn’t stay too long. I can only imagine how my son will feel as he just returned from Alaska late last night. Talk about temperature shock! It reminds me of a September camping trip I made to Colorado some years back. When I broke camp to come home it was 21 degrees outside. When I got back to Texas eleven and a half hours later it was 105 degrees. That’s the way it goes in North Texas…

 

Anyway… Despite the busy day ahead, I made up for the lack of time on the porch by lingering over my news and reader feeds this morning. I’m sure I’ll feel guilty for ineffective time management later, but I needed to feed my news addiction as well as follow my favorite writers and their blogs. The day just wouldn’t be the same without it.

 

I came across one article that really caught my eye. It was a commentary on Mr. Rogers, the beloved children’s show host who passed in 2003. I never was a fan of his show when I was younger. I don’t ever remember watching public television until well after I had outgrown shows like Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and Sesame Street. By 1968, when Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood debuted, I was more interested in hanging out with my friends and declaring my adolescent independence. My sister, who is six years younger, was far more familiar with them than I. As I grew older, my knowledge of Mr. Rogers came from the comedy skits on Saturday Night Live or the Fireside Theater. When I finally had kids of my own, they weren’t very interested in public television. They preferred Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the like when they did watch television. Most of the time they were outside being boys.

 

So, I didn’t take Mr. Rogers seriously until my grandkids introduced him to me. What I found was a man who simply loved people, especially children. There was a simple message, even to adults. I was listening to NPR the other day and heard an interview with the director of a new documentary about Fred Rogers. One of the things parents and children alike forget about him, is that he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. I didn’t know that he was ordained to specifically minister to children. He carried out his mission so well. I’m glad someone thought enough of him to produce a documentary. I can’t wait to see the movie.

 

I suppose it’s a bit ironic that I learned to appreciate a man who hosted a children’s show now that I’m in my fifties. Somehow, his simple message seems more real (and needed) than ever before. It reminds me of Robert Fulghum’s book, All I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Maybe that’s why Jesus said we need to become like little children to enter the kingdom of God? The messages about trust, making good decisions, and trusting the adults who love us (and hence the One who loves us) seem even more important today than ever.

 

Richard Gunderman, in his commentary in The Conversation on June 8th of this year says, Rogers believed that the need to love and be loved was universal, and he sought to cultivate these capacities through every program, saying in a 2004 documentary hosted by actor Michael Keaton, one of his former stagehands, “You know, I think everybody longs to be loved, and longs to know that he or she is lovable. And consequently, the greatest thing we can do is to help somebody know they’re loved and capable of loving.” I can’t think of a better calling, a better way of living. I want to be like Mr. Rogers when I grow up…

 

Gunderman goes on to point out:

 

“In preaching love, Rogers wasn’t just attending to the moral character of his youthful audience. He believed that he was also promoting their health. As he said in 1979, “My whole approach in broadcasting has always been, ‘You are an important person just the way you are. You can make healthy decisions.’ Maybe I’m going on too long, but I just feel that anything that allows a person to be more active in the control of his or her life, in a healthy way, is important.”

Since Rogers’ death, evidence has mounted that he was on to something — namely, that love and kindness truly are healthful, and that people who express them regularly really do lead healthier lives. Simply put, people who are generous and volunteer their time for the benefit of others seem to be happier than those who don’t, and happy people tend to have fewer health complaints and live longer than those who are unhappy.”

I thought of all the people in my life. For the most part, they tend to have one thing in common: they tend to love others well. They seem to have this idea that the most important question one can ask in life is, ‘How can I help?’ They are loving, kind, and happy. Given the scientific discoveries about happiness and good health, most of them will be with me a while. At least, I hope so…

I sure would like to be a part of the neighborhood Mr. Rogers lived in. I guess I’ll just have to be a good neighbor here. I don’t own any of his trademark cardigan sweaters, but I can always ask, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gardening, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Recovery, Relationships, Uncategorized

A Big Thanks!

gregoryjoel

I’m going to be brief today. Time on the porch is never a distraction. It centers my morning, but this morning I had to set priorities for meeting deadlines on a couple of projects. The consequence is very little time to write (and wait for my editor, so please forgive any errors…).

I told my wife that I’ve been extremely emotional the last couple of days. It’s a positive emotional state. I simply become overcome with gratitude and little things start the tears flowing. I still have difficulty admitting that I shed tears over such small (and what I tend to call silly) things. Thankfully, I hear my friend Edgar’s voice reminding me that “we cry like a man today”. Men can and do cry. We just don’t like anyone to know…

Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to tell those who follow or simply read my posts from time to time a heartfelt thank you. I read your posts and others as well and I’m so happy to have such a great community. Thank you for going for going on the ride with me. And what a ride it is…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gardening, Health, Hope, Positive Thinking, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Service Organizations, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

“It is good…”

gregoryjoel

I wasn’t going to write anything this morning. I have a lot to do, both work-related and here at home; and to be honest, I just wasn’t ‘feeling’ it. My thoughts were scattered, and I was preoccupied with getting Sadie, our youngest pup, out of the living room (she’s a sneaky little devil). She’d run behind the sofa every time I’d open the door and call her. I’d shut the door and she’d come scratch at it to get out. Rinse and repeat. So, writing was the farthest thing from my mind…

I finally managed to get Sadie out of the living room. I’m not sure why cat food does the trick, but it seems to work better than treats. Anyway, I poured a new cup of coffee, sat down to check emails, and took a moment to log in to Facebook and check on my friends. After all the morning’s frustrations, I needed some of the raw humor my friend Edgar usually posts. Instead, I came across a video demonstrating what true friendship really means.

It seems a terminally ill chimpanzee was in her last days. She refused food and water and at 59 years old, she had earned the right to face the end on her own terms. Then a long-lost friend came in, a scientist who had developed a relationship with her in her youth. You should have seen her smile. The love and touching (apparently after a long absence) was amazing. I could see why chimpanzees share 98% of our DNA. I guess I needed to see it this morning because the tears began to flow (and yes, I cried over a chimpanzee video). It sent me back to the porch to sit quietly and still my thoughts. So, like it or not, here I am…

There are so many things in this life that I don’t understand. I read the newsfeed each day, only to become frustrated, angry, hurt, and often baffled by what goes on in the world. Several years ago, I signed a ‘Covenant of Civility’ that Sojourners (a ministry in DC) and many other religious leaders signed, as a means of committing to civil discourse in the areas of politics, social issues, and culture. My friend Edgar tells me that, while it’s hard to love unconditionally, it’s always possible to be unconditionally kind. The covenant was revolutionary – the idea that one could remain respectful and civil to those with opposing views given the vitriolic atmosphere of the times.

I haven’t always been true to my commitment. There are times I allow my anger get the best of me and say things I wish I could take back. Then there are times when anger is called for, like when people are crushed by the weight of oppression and violence and no one seems to care. Even Jesus drove the moneychangers out of the temple, right? The world can be a depressing place and sometimes my response isn’t pretty…

That being said, when I saw that video this morning, the world seemed to fall back into perspective. The creation story says that when all was said and done, God looked at all of it and called it ‘good’ – not perfect, but ‘good’. Sometimes I focus on the bad. Yes, there is a lot of evil and meanness in the world. Social and economic justice, stewardship of the earth, and living non-violently are important issues and need to be addressed, but I need to see the good in the world as well. I guess that’s what struck me when I saw the ‘chimpanzee video’ this morning. I’m so blessed to have friends to walk with me on this journey, through good times and bad. If I look for it, I get to see all the ‘good’ the Creator saw…

There have been times I’ve been critical of the way we do ‘church’, but I’ve been the recipient of the love and service of the one I’m a member of. I get emails from across the country from ministries like Sojourners, Repairers of the Breach, or The Simple Way that are making a difference in people’s daily lives. I hear about their successes and their struggles. I talk to my friend Rusty, and I see how his walk with Jesus touches the people around him. If I look closely, I’m surrounded by folks whose actions strive to make their (and our) world a bit better.

Sometimes it’s easy to focus on the negatives. After all, we’re bombarded with them on the TV and the Internet. Yet, I’m struck by the simple moments when I can hear God say, “it’s all good”. I heard it this morning when I saw the chimpanzee’s smile at a long-lost friend. I heard it last night when I picked some more produce from the garden. I hear it all the time from friends and family. It doesn’t mean it can’t be better. It just reminds me to stop and appreciate the ‘good’.

I went into our bedroom while ago and there was Margaret with all three dogs lounging around the bed. I wish I’d had my camera with me. It was good…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Gardening, Growing Up, Prayer, Recovery, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Work

Somebody please, take out the trash…

gregoryjoel

I didn’t spend much time on the porch this morning. I headed to the garden instead. A steady breeze blew this morning and I thought I’d take advantage of the cool morning to check on things out there. I have another four weeks of my little IV buddy and the heat is difficult, at best. Why waste such a gorgeous morning, right?

The beans are still putting out and the squash maintain steady production for harvest. The above-average temperatures are already taking their toll, but the garden fights back, refusing to surrender except on its terms. I thank God for its resistance because the ultimate harvest has begun in earnest – homegrown tomatoes. In an age of convenience, fast, and just plain crappy food, homegrown tomatoes probably aren’t a big deal to many younger folks (a brief aside – I asked one of the young guys working on a community garden project with me if he knew where tomatoes come from and he replied, the store?” I felt sad…), but they are to me. I know in my heart the world would be a better place if people would simply eat homegrown tomatoes…

Anyway, I’m back at the desk, perusing the newsfeed, with my mood alternating, as I read the various stories, from happy to sad to “what were they thinking?”. One headline from The Hill caught my eye. It was a report titled “White House Tasks office with taping together papers after Trump rips them up”. I had to read on, although not much surprises me anymore.

Apparently, Trump has an annoying habit (one of many, I might add) of ripping up whatever papers are on his desk regardless of whether they are official papers or not (I’m pretty sure he’s destroying evidence…). Since papers from the Oval Office are supposed to be archived, there are records management staffer who have been tasked with taping together all the little pieces of paper like a jigsaw puzzle, so they can be preserved according to Federal law. It seemed to be just another silly story from a silly place about a silly man, but something caught my eye as I read on.

The article goes on to say that a couple of those staffers were recently fired, one after three decades of service, and they talked to Politico about it. What struck me was the remark one of them, Reginald Young, Jr., made to his Director. He said, “Are you guys serious? We’re making more than $60,000 a year, we need to be doing something far more important things than this. It felt like the lowest form of work you can take on without having to take out the trash cans”.

His statement reflects the root of the problem with common folks and government, and people in general. His attitude of ‘I’m too good for that’ is often one that I’ve had in the past; and if I’m not careful, I can have in the present as well. It relegates people’s worth to some imagined scale of what’s important and what’s not. One of the first questions we ask new acquaintances is often, “So, what do you do?” as if what we do defines who we are. That’s rarely the case. Still, every business has a hierarchy: bosses look down on their employees, employees look down on new hires, and everyone seems to think they are too good to clean up their own messes and leave them for the janitorial staff. And so, it goes…

Fortunately, I had a father who called me on this. Nothing was beneath me. If I signed up for a job, then I needed to do whatever the job required. I wasn’t ‘too good’ to do anything and I sure wasn’t better than anyone else. Every job needed to be done and to be done well. I wish everyone had a dad like him. Maybe we’d find it easier to get along…

I didn’t always listen to Dad.  I spent years imagining new ways to please him and make him proud, even though I didn’t have to. He loved me just the way I was. It didn’t matter what I did for a living because that wasn’t who I was. I was his son and that, my friends, was enough. I remember him telling me over and over, “Son, I don’t care if you want to be a garbage man, be the best garbage man you can be”. It took me many years to find the truth in his wisdom. Simply do my best…

I really began to appreciate my father’s wisdom when I discovered a hidden treasure in my reading several years ago. It was an old French text from the 17th century by a man known as Brother Lawrence. It was called “Practicing the Presence of God”. Brother Lawrence was a lay brother, a monk in a Paris Priory. For fifty years since he said his vows, he worked in the kitchen of the priory and later, repaired sandals. I guess neither job was thought of any more highly then, than it is now. Yet somehow, this simple monk’s life revealed more about the nature of work and our relationship with God, than anything I have read before or since.

Working in the monastery kitchen, Brother Lawrence discovered that “common business”, no matter how mundane or seemingly insignificant to others, was the “medium of God’s love”. Therefore, work became an instrument of worship and relationship with God. Suddenly, washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen wasn’t some lowly job, it was an act of worship and partnership with the Creator. It was done with love and exuded love. Maybe that’s why so many people flocked to this simple monk over the years to seek spiritual advice and comfort.

Just as my Dad used to tell me to strive to do well and give credit where credit is due, I’ve come to value the principles and “Maxims” of Brother Lawrence. I’ve come to see that our work, no matter what it is, is a physical manifestation of God’s love and my relationship with him. If that’s the case, then nothing is ‘beneath me’ and one job is not more valuable than the other. Given that, what right do I have to look down (or up) on another’s work. We’re each a treasured child of the Creator and maybe, just maybe, I should treat folks that way…

I don’t expect attitudes to change in Washington D.C., or Fort Worth, or anywhere else for that matter. CEOs and men in powerful positions will continue to make exorbitant salaries at the expense of the very people who make their lives possible. We’ll still assign value to one’s work and put the somewhere on the ladder and thus, assign their worth. While attitudes may stay the same in general, I’ll pray that mine continuously change so I can see the value and the worth of each of God’s kids I run into every day. If I treat them as one of God’s kids, maybe they’ll treat themselves, and others, the same way. Before you know it, courtesy and respect begin to spread and maybe those White House staffers start taking out the trash because it needs to be taken out. Just sayin’…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Marriage, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

Sunday Morning…

gregoryjoel

I can’t think of a better way to start a Sunday morning than getting to spend time on the porch with my lovely wife. The heat may be here to stay in North Texas, but the porch is shaded and inviting. On morning’s like these, it’s not too hot to enjoy yet, so we lingered a little longer and soaked up the gorgeous morning…

This past Spring has brought more wildlife around our home than usual. The cardinals are in abundance this year, which I take to be a blessing. The old folks say that a cardinal in the yard is a visit from a loved one from “the other side”. If that’s true, our whole family is back together again. They’ve been in abundance this year.  The young mockingbird, who has claimed our yard as his own, flew down to see what we were up to and then flew off to the pecan tree to sing and seek a mate. A toad hopped across the porch chasing the bugs that hang out in the bed of wildflowers in front. Apparently, we have a new opossum family frequenting our backyard. A raccoon (which I pray does not figure out how to get in our attic) drops by just to aggravate the dogs late at night. A host of other bird species, the plethora of squirrels, and the occasional bobcat or coyote sighting ever remind us how blessed we are to have found our little home here.

I think about all the years I went about without seeing any of these simple pleasures – the birds, the wildlife, the flowers, the neighborhood. I was so self-centered, I couldn’t see anything beyond my own needs and pursuits. Even when I tried to do something for someone else it was to gain points toward something I want. I remember thinking my Dad was so silly because he was so intrigued and grateful for the little things in life. Now I’m becoming him. My kids laugh at me because I find myself doing the same things that he did. Go figure…

After my time on the porch I came in to go online for my church’s Sunday morning service. I still haven’t ventured back inside the building itself (baby steps…), but I try to attend online since my friend Rusty is the “online minister” and a couple of friends are hosts. I enjoy the insights that are shared “from the pulpit”. Still, one of my biggest frustrations is the one-sided communication that is called “preaching”. It’s probably a personal thing. I have never responded well to preaching. It always seemed like a way to remind me I wasn’t good enough. Then again, maybe I’m just one of those folks who doesn’t take to auditory learning. Perhaps it’s from far too many years of hearing “do as I say, not as I do”. Unfortunately, that wasn’t limited to preachers. I guess I’m just a “touchy-feely” kind of guy when it comes to learning lessons…

I’m fully aware that I bring a lot of baggage to the table when discussing “church”. My experiences were not always positive and usually left me with more self-loathing than when I got there. That’s why I love recovery meetings so much. They allow me to start peeling back all those layers of erroneous understanding about God and begin seeing him in a new light. Heck, they didn’t even say I had to call him God; a Higher Power would suffice. Besides, I’ve come to believe he doesn’t care what you call him. He just seems to love our conversations.

Sometimes I’m jealous of those who had no religious upbringing. The “God or “Higher Power” thing comes somewhat easier for them. When they experience the liberation of grace, God isn’t such a foreign concept. They experience God in fresh, new ways so it’s not surprising they find him to be loving and caring, instead of judgmental and pissed off all the time. It has taken me a long time to figure that out. My family and friends loaded me down with some well-meaning, but serious misconceptions about God, and it has taken me many steps along the path to get rid of the onus. Now I finally get it – His burden is light and a real pleasure to walk with…

Still, I’m grateful for the family (and community) I was raised in. While their view of God and grace were somewhat suspect, their motives and moral education were always well-intentioned. I never learned about (or experienced) grace until I found recovery. I think that’s why recovery meetings feel more like I always thought church was supposed to be – a bunch of ordinary people who have found a relationship with a God of their understanding, still don’t have all the answers to life, aren’t afraid to say so, and are finding out it’s okay to be human.  Like the Rabbi says, “Those who have been forgiven much, love much”. I like “churches” like that…

I’m grateful that my baggage has gotten much lighter over the last few years. I’ve been open to the guidance of my predecessor’s in this life and sometimes I get to learn from their mistakes and not make them mine. I’m grateful that I’m able to hear what I need to hear and that I’m able to see the beauty of the world around me, whatever the situation is. I know none it would’ve happened had I not been around a bunch of folks who, if I may paraphrase the Apostle James, “confessed their struggles to one another so that the healing may begin”.

I guess that’s why I struggle with ‘church’ as most of us know it. I seem to learn better when I hear others be honest about their struggles. They go through the same things as I do and through our sharing our experience we collectively find the strength and hope to make it another day. I just don’t sense that when I’m sitting in worship services. I used to think that was “just” me, but I know a lot of folks for whom that’s also true. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe it’s time we re-evaluate what constitutes ‘church’. That’s probably way above my pay grade so for now, I’ll just have ‘church’ every morning here on the porch. Worship usually starts after I wake up, sit down on the porch, and have my first cup of coffee. I get to see the goodness of a loving God all over my front yard. Maybe tonight, I’ll make a recovery meeting. Church isn’t just for Sunday’s anymore…