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Remembering the Stone

A blessed Easter morning to all! I’ve been thinking a lot about Easter this past week. It was never a religious holiday in our home when I was growing up. My Church of Christ upbringing prohibited the celebration of “religious” holidays if the specific date wasn’t mentioned in the Bible. I pointed out to them that we knew when Easter was because of the Hebrew calendar and Passover celebration. They simply said the Bible didn’t say anything about “celebrating” Easter. Henceforth, since there was no such thing as a liturgical calendar (way too Catholic- those heathens!), Christmas and Easter should be relegated to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny with no mention of Jesus. It wasn’t until many years later that my own spiritual journey led me to a much different view of such things.

Easter and the resurrection of Jesus began to take on true spiritual meaning for me some twenty years ago. That’s I found recovery from the alcohol and addiction that had plagued me for many years. I’m not one for “war stories” about the years prior to December 1, 2005, but suffice it to say that failure, degradation, separation from all things spiritual, and loneliness had become my way of life. Not for the sake of having tried to leave those ways behind, mind you. If I had a dollar for every time I quit or tried rehab, I’d be a wealthy, but probably dead man.

In the twelve step programs I’d tried they all talked about hitting bottom and I was there. A friend once asked me where the bottom was. When I replied I didn’t know, he said that it’s wherever I “put down the shovel”. So, I did. I simply quit digging. That’s when I learned what Easter is all about – resurrection.

I certainly don’t have all the answers nor the right to advise others on their spiritual life and a relationship with the God of their understanding, but my experience is that resurrection is real. I was dead, but now I’m alive. I’m alive because God loved me long before I loved myself. Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead on that first Easter morning to offer new life to me.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

I used to wear a cross necklace as if the cross and the crucifixion were the most important things to remember. I’m not talking smack about cross necklaces, but I think I needed a new perspective on my reality. It wasn’t the cross I needed to focus on (although that was a necessary step in the process), but the stone that was rolled away from the tomb to allow a new, resurrected life to rise for everyone. Unfortunately, a stone is a bit too big to wear around my neck. I should know. I wore several for a long time, just not the same reason…

Today I want to be an Easter person, a resurrection person. I’ve been blessed in more ways than I could ever imagine, and I get a chance each day to be a blessing to others. I can even love others and accept the love and grace of not just my friends, but of a loving Creator. It’s the new life I always dreamed of and could never have on my own. My prayer is that we all focus on the stone and the new life that awaits us all each day.

“We humans mistrust, murder, and attack. Now I see that it is not you that humanity hates. We hate ourselves, but we mistakenly kill you. I must stop crucifying your blessed flesh on this earth and in my brothers and sisters.

Now I see that you live in me and I live in you. You are inviting me out of this endless cycle of illusion and violence. You are Jesus crucified. You are saving me. In your perfect love, you have chosen to enter into union with me, and I am slowly learning to trust that this could be true.” Fr. Richard Rohr

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Bumps in the Road

Farming has its challenges. The weather is either too wet or too dry, too hot or too cold; equipment breaks down at the most inopportune time; pest pressure; the list goes on. The latest challenge – water level on the Trinity River, which provides water for irrigating our crops, dropping lower than our pumps can reach, leaving us high and dry with new Spring seed in the ground. The Tarrant Regional Water District has construction going on by the Fourth Street dam just upstream from us and had to lower the water level in our section of the river to complete the work. It may be a month before the water level returns to a normal level. The farm can’t go for a month without water, and the weather forecast isn’t looking favorably for us. “Houston, we have a problem…”

The immediate issue was getting water on the new seed as quickly as possible. To make a long story short, it was too muddy to get our other pump close enough to the water to get to suction hose in, so I filled four fifty-gallon water barrels at home each morning, drove to the farm, and hand watered the new seed, all the while praying to seek a better solution. The process was long, slow, and really hard work for this old man.

I trust that God hears my prayers and always answers even though I don’t always listen very well (and if I’m honest, I’ll still try to figure out things my way because I don’t like the answer, but that’s another story). Still, I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older at watching and listening for God’s instructions.

This week, the answer came from one of our regular volunteers and friends of the farm, Amir (I haven’t asked his permission to use his full name and picture on social media yet). Amir is one of my favorite people. He comes most Thursdays and Saturday mornings to help at the farm and often brings his young son as well. He believes his son needs to learn the value of helping others (that won him Father of the Year in my book). When he saw our problem, he called to meet me at Opal’s Farm on Friday morning. He wanted to put our heads together to see if we could find a solution to the irrigation problem.

We pondered our options and then it occurred to Amir that we could pull the pump from its pipe to the river, extend the Pex piping and electrical wire and push the pump farther into the river. Great idea! I was fully expecting Amir to have to go on to his work and do it over the weekend. He looked at me and said, “If we can get the parts this morning, we should have water this afternoon”. Needless to say, after a very long Friday and very cold Trinity River water we have irrigation again.

The reason I mention this is because I need to tell you how blessed I am to have great volunteers, and especially Amir. He sees his time as an investment in Opal’s Farm, our mission, and our future. He gave up his work time to help at a critical moment. That’s the kind of people that God has blessed me with over the last seven years at Opal’s Farm. I just want to give him a special shout-out.

Texas Farm Bureau Day

We were also blessed to have a group of college students from around the state and the Texas Farm Bureau come by on Saturday morning. Many of these folks have production farming experience so the amount of work and the initiative they brought to Opal’s on a Saturday morning was beyond amazing. Thanks to these young people our tomatoes are planted, most of the trellises up, and the beds are weed-free (at least until the next rain…). Thanks to Kyndal with the Texas Farm Bureau for putting all this together!

If you would like to volunteer as an individual or as a group, please feel free to call 817.602.8225, but hurry as Spring dates are going fast.

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Ahh, February

It’s finally February. It usually isn’t my favorite month because, though it’s the shortest month, it usually feels like the longest. That’s not the case this year. January seemed like it would never end – the constant barrage of bad news wore me down. It started with military intervention in Venezuela, the alienation of our allies and friends (we’re not all crazy Greenland), and ended with two murders of US citizens by our own government. Come on, February. Maybe being the shortest month means less assaults on our collective souls. One can only hope…

Photo by Steve Wrzeszczynski on Unsplash

Tomorrow, the second of February, is Groundhog Day. Personally, I always get confused as to why a small, adorable rodent has so much power of weather forecasting based on whether he sees his shadow or not. I do, however, find the movie “Groundhog Day” one of my favorite films of all time. The idea that one gets “do-overs” until they get it right sums up what grace has come to mean in my life. I don’t get to go back and change the past, but I do have the opportunity every day to create a better me. That’s all because of grace.

I’d always heard that term “grace” growing up, but in a fundamentalist Christian home it tended to be more an abstract spiritual ideal rather than a physical reality. One could always “fall from grace”. God was kind of fickle, judgmental, and got pissed off easy, you know, and I was spiritually clumsy, falling a lot! After a while, I’d fallen so many times that I just decided to stay down and wallowed there for many years.

I won’t bore you with the details, but to suffice it to say that I found myself in rehabs and twelve-step programs many times over the years. It wasn’t until one day in December 2005 that I finally said, “God help me” and really meant it. I simply gave it all to him. I surrendered and really didn’t care what he did with me. Even death was preferable to the existence I was living.

To make a long story short…

That was my “Groundhog Day”. I didn’t get “do-overs”, but I did get to go back to those I had harmed and make amends – make things right to the best of my ability and live differently. In fact, every day since then has been Groundhog Day. I wake up each morning with the opportunity to make the future better for me and my community. It’s all because of grace – grace that’s real, not an abstract theological term. I guess in that sense it is a “do over” because I start each day with a clean slate. I can let go of a past full of doubt and live securely in the day I’ve been given.

I’m not perfect by any means. I try to walk in faith, loving God, and “loving my neighbor as myself. Thank God for grace and another Groundhog Day…

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Giving Thanks in All Things

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday. We had a wonderful day with food, family, and Dallas Cowboys football, I normally have a little anxiety around family gatherings being the introvert that I am. My social battery tends to run low after a couple of hours, but this year it lasted from around two in the afternoon until after ten o’clock in the evening. I normally am worn out after being around people, even loved ones for so long. This year was different. I was tired, but happy to have spent our time together. Something special happened this year that been somewhat absent in the past.

One of my wife’s family traditions is to take time between Thanksgiving dinner and dessert to read a passage of scripture and go around the table and have each person tell what they are grateful for. I won’t go into details except to tell you that each of us found deeper appreciation for each other and the grace we’ve been given. This year the passage was from I Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live” (The Message Bible). Good advice to everyone no matter what their faith I’d say.

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

“Thank God No Matter What Happens”

No matter what happens. Most of us find it easy to be grateful when things are going well for us. It’s equally easy to take the good times for granted, but we’re going to focus on gratitude only here. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines gratitude as: “Gratitude noun – the state of being grateful.” When everything seems to be okay – the rent’s paid, there’s food on the table, we can afford a nice vacation or a new car – it’s easy to have a grateful state of mind, but what happens when tragedy strikes – the death of a loved one, unemployment, financial fear, the old car breaks down – and everything and everyone seems to be against us.

My youngest son, Jeremy, died in May of 2020. Let me be clear, I am not grateful for his death. It’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced. Parents who have lost a child know what I mean. The grief feels insurmountable and honestly, I don’t think it ever goes away. I still have moments when a song is played, I glance at one of his paintings, or my grandkids talk about how much they miss him when the sadness burst into my day and I feel as emotionally raw as the day I received the phone that he was gone. It’s a constant reminder of loss. It feels sacrilegious, or even hateful, to find gratitude in such a thing.

However, there’s immense gratitude for what happened after Jeremy died. God had placed all the people in my life that would help me walk through this tragedy. My friend and sponsor, Edgar, had lost his own son some twenty-two years earlier. He was the second person I called (the first was my wife) as I drove to my oldest granddaughter’s house to tell her the news. Over the following months he answered every phone call and walked me through the pain. He had been there before. He shared my pain and gave of himself to offer healing and hope during a dark time.

Moreover, two of our friend’s circle lost their sons as well, one to an opiate overdose like Jeremy. I could share with him the little experience I had. Helping others helps me. We were all there for one another – something I will be eternally grateful for.

Most recently, this last year has been one I don’t wish to repeat for a myriad of reasons. Funding cuts began in January. I had to lay off my staff. My paychecks were few and far between causing huge financial difficulty for both the farm and our personal finances.

In April, I blew my left knee out. Subsequent doctor appointments revealed that both knees were now bone on bone, a knee replacement was my last option, and pain became a daily issue. The farmers markets have been much slower, a reflection of a weakening economy, and sales have been down. In October, my Volunteer Coordinator quit suddenly with no explanation. After five years she had become a friend, and her loss was hurtful. I now had to give up Saturday morning markets to be there for volunteers already on the schedule. To make matters worse, my planned knee surgery fell through and it would be next November before I could again take time off for recovery. There were more than a few dark days for me. Why would anyone find gratitude in such a year?

I scaled back, took on only what I could handle, and we’ve had more volunteer groups than in past years. What wasn’t sold was donated to some great local organizations and we’ve still managed to keep moving forward. We still yielded produce totals like the year before with less land and labor. Funding has increased (we’re a non-profit farm) and new market opportunities have arisen to help us better meet our mission of improving food access for our neighbors. We saw new grants relieve the payroll anxiety thanks to Texas Health Community Hope and the North Texas Communities Foundation (more on that to come this week!) we are greeting the new year on a firm footing.

I’ve been able to let go of the hurt (it’s taken awhile) and disruption of (our Volunteer Coordinator) Stacey’s sudden departure and work with some amazing volunteers I’d been missing for the last few months. My knees still hurt but not like they were. Work is much more tolerable. A bit slower perhaps but that may be age over injury. Who’s to say?

I’m grateful for what this year has brought to me. I’m still out there every day doing the best I can and far better than expected. I’m able to keep moving and I’ve learned that my physical (and sometimes emotional) limits are not nearly as bad as I thought. I’m getting much better at thanking God “no matter what happens”.

It’s often simply a matter of perspective – whether one sees difficulty as a problem or as an opportunity. Living in a state of gratitude helps shift one’s perspective. Sometimes I only learn to be grateful looking back at how God had blessed and stood by me. One of my favorite quotes is from Steve Jobs’ 2005 Stanford commencement speech, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward “. Many times, I stumble through the dark times until I look back and see how I’ve been loved and cared for. I’m getting better staying in the moment…

There’s an abundance of studies and articles about the benefits of gratitude, but I choose a very simple definition: gratitude isn’t just a noun. The dictionary may not say it, but it’s a verb as well. It’s not just a state of mind, but an action word. Sometimes placing one foot in front of another is the simplest form of gratitude one can have. My prayer for us all is that we may truly come to “Thank God no matter what happens”.

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Bumps in the Road

It’s been an interesting Spring at Opal’s Farm. I’ve been busier than a one-armed paper hanger as my uncle used to say.

For one thing, I received a letter from the Social Security Administration this week. It said I’ve reached the age where I am now considered retired. I have to laugh when I realize Ms. Opal “retired” the year after I graduated high school. If that’s what retirement looks like, then I’m grateful for it. It means I can focus on loving and serving others full-time just like her. At ninety-eight, she reminds me that she just keeps running forward so the good Lord can’t catch her to take her home. Besides, there’s so much more to do. Especially now…

The other thing that happened is a little less humorous. My left knee blew out on me last Wednesday as I was putting tools away for the day. That wouldn’t have been unusual as it tends to happen now that I’m old enough to suffer the consequences of an overactive youth. This time was different. It didn’t stop hurting the next day and the pain was in a different part of my knee and increasing rather than decreasing. I decided Friday afternoon I had better go to the ER and have it checked out.

Fortunately, nothing is broken, but since X-rays don’t show cartilage or ligament damage, I’ll be seeing the orthopedic surgeon this week. Moreover, the ER doc said I had a lot of arthritis, and the next step was a knee replacement. I feared that might be the case. I guess I’ll find out this week. It’s a pretty big bump in the road.

He also told me to take steroids and pain medicine, wear the immobilizer, use the crutches, and stay off my knee for a few days. I can take medication. I can use the immobilizer most of the time. I can even use the crutches sometimes. However, for a farmer four days of bed rest isn’t possible this time of year. My doctor and I have an agreement – I don’t tell him how to practice medicine and he doesn’t tell me how to farm.

I went market and “Taste the C.U.R.E” class yesterday. If people ask me what happened I simply tell the truth – I got older!

I guess there’s more news to come and a lot of decisions to be made. I’ll just hobble along and work on the farm until then. I’m going to be much slower so I’m extra grateful for the volunteers we have right now. Spring is the busiest time of year for farmers and Opal’s is no exception. The farm still needs daily care. I’ll be there as long as the good Lord lets me, but we need extra volunteer help right now. Please think of us if you have a little spare time and want to get you’re hands dirty. After all, dirt don’t hurt.