Category: Grace

Acceptance, Beatitudes, Belief, Christianity, Community, Connection, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Faith, Grace, Neighbors, Opal's Farm, Practice, Prayer, Seeing Others, Service to Others, Spirituality, Stories, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

A Prayer For Today

gregoryjoel

“Love won’t be real or tested unless we somehow live close to the disadvantaged, who frankly teach us that we know very little about love.” – Fr. Richard Rohr

The was first thing I read this morning. It pierced my heart with its truth.

Opal’s Farm is close to the homeless missions and camps in Fort Worth. If I don’t make the light at Riverside and Lancaster Avenues, I’m going to have to deal with someone panhandling on the corner. I usually don’t carry cash and I feel bad that I can’t throw some money their way. I know what it’s like to be hungry. People say it just goes to drugs and alcohol, but that’s not always true. I’ve seen folks immediately walk to the convenience store across the street and come out with food instead of beer. Besides, I know what it is to need a fix, get sick without it, and be out of resources or credit.

I try to acknowledge the various characters I see while stopped at the light on most days. I know what it’s like to feel unseen and written off as inconsequential, to somehow be sub-human because of my status in the social hierarchy.  A pastor friend once told me that homeless folks told him over and over that they’d just like to be seen – to be acknowledged – to feel human.

Sometimes a simple “I’m sorry but I don’t have anything to give” can lead to some eye-opening conversations in the two minutes it takes for the light to change. A life story can be told in those two minutes. I’ve even found a couple of folks who I save a little cash for just so I can brighten their day a bit just as they have brightened mine. To paraphrase Ms. Opal, I can’t help everyone, but I can help someone.

Sometimes that same “I don’t have anything” can turn into an aggressive confrontation. The streets are ripe with mental illness and substance abuse that often leads to strange and threatening behavior from the street denizens. I find myself becoming jaded and cynical toward the very people with whom I had compassion for a moment ago. Fear does that. It’s times like these that remind me that I have a long way to go in loving others. It reminds me that love is a verb, an action word reflected in the things I do and not what I say.

I was always told that the opposite of fear was faith. I’m sure today that fear is not the opposite of faith – I can be fearful and still have an albeit small degree of faith. Fear is really the opposite of love when it comes down to it. Sometimes it keeps me from loving those that need to be loved the most. Maybe that’s why “Don’t be afraid” is found so many times throughout the Bible.

“Perfect love casts put all fear…”

When I remember the promise, it makes it easier to see people for who they are. Humans created in the image of a loving God, the image of love itself. I have so far to go but this has always been the starting point – trying to remember that there is no “other”, that we’re each a reflection of God- the imago dei. I can begin to escape the judgment, the separation, and the self-righteousness of the old tapes that play in my head.

Love and ever more love is the only solution to every problem that comes up. If we love each other enough, we will bear with each other’s faults and burdens. If we love enough, we are going to light that fire in the hearts of others. And it is love that will burn out the sins and hatreds that sadden us. It is love that will make us want to do great things for each other. No sacrifice and no suffering will then seem too much.”

– Dorothy Day, House of Hospitality

Just for today, just for this moment, God please help me to see you in everyone I’ll meet today. Let me learn how to love with the same abandon as you. I’ll be leaving for the farm soon. I’ll be stopping at the light at Riverside and Lancaster. Help me be the light today…   

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

                                                                                                  

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Tired, but Hopeful…

gregoryjoel

Spring and summer leave little time for writing. There’s planting, harvesting, replanting, and constant irrigation going that must be moved manually each hour. The heat came so early to North Texas that everything is bone dry the next day. We’re also facing severe drought here so it’s a constant battle just to keep the crops watered properly. The long string of 100-degree plus weather makes for a long day and early bedtime. Although there’s been no shortage of topics to write about, I’m a bit frazzled and brain-baked by the time evenings roll around. Such is the life of a farmer…

Opal’s Farm held a Volunteer Appreciation Cookout for the 4th of July. It was well-attended, and everyone ate their fill of burgers, hot dogs, and grilled veggies from the farm. The farm is one of the best places in Fort Worth to watch the annual fireworks show and a crowd came in from the neighborhood to watch and share in the festivities. Unfortunately, the fireworks show only lasted a couple of minutes this year. The fireworks set off huge grass fires on the banks of the Trinity River and officials cancelled the rest of the show. Some kids threw fireworks off the train trestle by our gathering, and we had to rush to put out the grass fire they started. It was an eventful evening all the way around.

The cancellation of the big Fort Worth fireworks show seemed a fitting end to the 4th of July this year. Independence Day was either a birthday party celebrating America’s birth or a funeral for American democracy. I haven’t failed to keep up with the news. A funeral is more likely. Shall we go down the list: the January 6th hearings, an attempted coup, the recent slate of restrictive Supreme Court rulings, the 300 plus mass shootings so far this year, massive voter suppression and on and on…

I’m not big on labels, especially political ones. However, I read an article by Adam Russell Taylor of Sojourners Magazine that spoke of the “exhausted majority” (https://sojo.net/articles/pastoral-letter-exhausted-majority). He pointed out the polling showing the majority of Americans feel left out and tired by the continuous division that dominates our political and civil discourse. Most Americans have “flexible views that don’t fit consistently in the Left/Right binary”.

Somebody finally put a voice to my thoughts. I get it. I’m exhausted. I dread even talking to people some days, so I just turn off the news, crank up the music, and cover my head so I don’t get hit with all the verbal and political crap flying by from both extremes. Exhaustion often leads to cynicism. I don’t like cynical people, especially when the cynic is me, so what do I do?

  • Take a break. I need to remember it’s okay to rest. Rest is necessary. It seems even God thought one should rest. He took a break after His work creating the universe and asked the Jewish nation to take a day to do the same. The Gospels tells us that Jesus often withdrew to “a lonely place” to pray, reflect, and recharge his spirit. I’m pretty sure it’s okay to do the same…
  • Pray. A lot. I’m not talking about the “God bless America” prayers of politicians and the religious right. Keep it simple. The Lord’s Prayer is a great place to start – “Your kingdom come your will be done on Earth as it is in heaven”.
  • Vote – My true citizenship lies in God’s kingdom but my participation in the political process here asks that I vote for “the least of these”. Which candidate reflects the policies that will most benefit the poor, the marginalized, and the immigrant. (Yes, I said immigrant – God constantly reminded His people to care for the immigrant – the foreigner – among them). Speak for the voiceless. (Side Note – We will be registering people to vote at upcoming markets and events. This year reflects the need to vote more than ever.)
  • Act in love – Some years ago it was fashionable among Christians to wear little bracelets that said “What Would Jesus Do, or WWJD.  The fashion trend passed but the question remains. If I’ve prayed for God’s will to be done here as it is in heaven than maybe, just maybe, I need to live a kingdom life here instead of waiting around for some mystical eternity. Maybe it means I need to see the world as Jesus as sees it, to see its people as those created in the very image of God, and to agree with the Creator – “it is good” – not perfect mind you, but good.

It’s much easier to find common ground when the Creator is evident in each of us, especially when we know how much God loves us. It becomes impossible to hold His love to ourselves. It must be shared.

Today, I’m taking a rest, enjoying the air conditioning, and asking to God to simply help me love others better. I don’t feel exhausted. I feel hopeful. There’s a lot to do…

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Jeremy and I

gregoryjoel

I got up early this morning to study for the final in a course I’m taking in Indigenous Religion and Ecology. Unfortunately, the coffee hadn’t kicked in and I fell down a rabbit hole and cleaned up my personal email instead. I apparently stopped doing so on May 29, 2020 – the day my son Jeremy died. Life seemed to take a different path after that day.

I wrote about the grief and the loss for a few weeks after he died. My public blog became my personal journal in the hope it would be cathartic for me and somewhat hopeful that it would shorten, or at least make bearable, the grief process. It didn’t. It simply became easier to write about Opal’s Farm and passing on quotes I came across that meant something to me than to speak of the pain of grief.

So, I’ve been silent the last few weeks unless it’s about Opal’s Farm. Spring planting has taken up most of my time. It’s hard to stay on top of all the great things happening at the farm – and there are some fantastic things happening there this Spring. I’m grateful for all of it. I wish I had more hours in the day so I could tell you all about it, but I don’t so I do the best I can business-wise.

When it came to writing anything else I found myself relying on the old “writer’s block” excuse -and that’s just what it was – an excuse. The reality is grief has reared its ugly head and clouded my thinking for some time now. It started around Christmas – that’s my deceased son’s birthday – and hasn’t let up.

I told my wife that I may need to finally see a grief therapist. This was becoming somewhat debilitating, but I didn’t want to spend a hundred dollars an hour for someone to tell me grief and loss sucks. I get it.

I also get that people don’t want to hear about my loss anymore whatever their reason may be.

Grief is incredibly isolating. People who haven’t lost a child don’t get it. They may have the best of intentions, or they may think it’s time (it’s been a year-and-a-half) to just “get over it” and move on. I understand. I’m ashamed to admit it but I’ve treated others the same way. Not because I want to but because of the discomfort, and often fear, I feel being around grief. We all do it…

This morning I read once again all the emails and articles written about Jeremy after his passing. He was loved by many. Although his talent as an artist lives on through his body of work, I find myself wondering if at best, he’s thought of from time, and at worst, if he’s been forgotten – everyone’s moved on. COVID robbed us of the celebration of life he wanted should he pass. We honored one of his requests at the small family homegoing we had for him – we had honey buns but couldn’t have a taco truck. I’m still waiting on that one.

Several years ago, Jeremy and I were headed out to a remodeling job we were doing. I miss our time in the truck together – the conversations, the laughter – although I must admit that working with Jeremy was rarely easy. We’re both pretty set in our ways! Still, we had a lot to laugh about. He told me that we should write a book together. I asked him why he thought that. His reply still haunts me today – “We could write about you and me. It’d be so crazy no one would believe it. We’d make the non-fiction bestseller’s list.” I can’t argue with that…

Jeremy 2019

There were several things that Jeremy wanted from me that I just never got around to while he was here. Some of them I’ve done, some I haven’t yet. He always wanted me to find my birth parents. He loved my adopted parents, especially my dad, but he always wondered about who were really were – where and who did we come from. I found that out last year when I met my birth mother – his grandmother – and learned so much of our family history. When I go to Kentucky in May I’ll be taking some of his ashes to lay at the family cemetery on the family farm we will be having our reunion at. My brother’s sons look so much like Adrian and Jeremy. Part of Jeremy belongs there too.

I’ve also begun the book he always wanted. I realized that Jeremy had a private persona and a public one as an artist. While most people know Jeremy the artist, few know Jeremy the man. It’s time for a broader (and crazier) picture of he and I both.

I’ll keep you posted on the progress and maybe post a chapter here and there. I don’t know if it will be a bestseller. In fact, I don’t even know if you’ll read it. I do know that what will happen will happen and maybe his loss and the pain I feel will mean something to me and the healing will begin…

This song plays almost everyday on my streaming station. It has become my song for Jeremy.