Thoughts From the Porch: I got to see the sunrise this morning. Big deal, you say? It is after several days of rain and overcast skies. I know we’ll be praying for rain in a couple of months, but I have way too much to do to stay at the desk.
A slight chill hangs in the air as a reminder that the official start of Spring, the vernal equinox, is still a week away. Still, the birds are singing and I even saw Bluebonnets peeking through the grass. For those unfamiliar with Texas, Spring comes with an explosion of bright color along side our highways and bi-ways. I know it happens elsewhere, just not like here. Bluebonnets bring vibrant blues, followed by the orange and black of the Indian Paintbrush. Yellows and deep greens fill in the blanks and everywhere is awash with blooms. It makes up for the winter months and reminds us to truly “stop and smell the flowers”.
Facebook will soon be plastered with pictures of people sitting
in fields of blue. That’s a big thing here in Fort Worth. Taking pictures of
loved ones, especially kids, amongst the wildflowers is a tradition for many
folks here in North Texas. Nature provides the perfect background for the best
portraits. The photographs are constant reminders that life is always fresh and
new, even during the coldest of winters.
Each Wednesday I attend the Fort Worth Development Group
(FWDG), a business networking and development group that seeks to “Bridge the
gap between Business and Ministry through cultivating meaningful relationships
in the workplace.” I knew that I needed to network for my writing business even
though I’m painfully shy in new situations. I picked the FWDG because of their Mission
Statement and quite frankly, it was close to my house. Maybe I’d be more
comfortable with like-minded folks despite my fear they would engage in “religious
speak”, but hey, I didn’t have to go back, right?
What I found was a group of business people who really do seek to cultivate meaningful
relationships and help each other grow. It’s not simply lip service. I’ve come
to look forward to my Wednesday meeting, knowing I will leave feeling stronger
in my faith and in my business. Life is fuller and richer when I step out of my
comfort zone. I find new friends and new resources for living well.
My friend Edgar always reminds me that “self-sufficiency is
a lie”, we need something beyond ourselves to live life well. We need each other.
I’m happy to be surrounded and supported by the myriad of people God has
brought into my life. What’s your circle?
Thoughts From the Porch: I survived the Daylight Savings
time change. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this oddity a bit of
history is in order. It seems that the practice came about during World War I to
extend daylight in the Spring and Summer months to conserve coal for the war
effort. It has remained in effect off and on in the years since. While the US
and most European countries observe Daylight Savings Time, most of the rest of
the world does not. I wish we’d get on board with them.
Daylight Savings Time (DST) has its benefits. I’ll be the first to admit that I enjoy the longer periods of daylight, especially working on the farm. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks as well. I don’t simply miss an hour of sleep. I tend to lose a whole day. Maybe it’s best that it falls on a Sunday since I can always take a nap.
The Center for Sleep Medicine at the Mayo Clinic says the effects of time change last more than one day though. The effects last five to ten days. Since DST happens twice a year, almost a month is affected. It not only alters sleep patterns, it leads to memory and learning problems, increased heart attack or stroke risks, poor social interaction, and affects overall cognitive performance. If I’m having cognitive issues today, I at least have a temporary excuse. I’m not sure what I can say about the other eleven months…
Daylight Savings Time (DST) has its benefits. I’ll be the first to admit that I enjoy the longer periods of daylight, especially working on the farm. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks as well. I don’t simply miss an hour of sleep. I tend to lose a whole day. Maybe it’s best that it falls on a Sunday since I can always take a nap. The Center for Sleep Medicine at the Mayo Clinic says the effects of time change last more than one day though. The effects last five to ten days. Since DST happens twice a year, almost a month is affected. It not only alters sleep patterns, it leads to memory and learning problems, increased heart attack or stroke risks, poor social interaction, and affects overall cognitive performance. If I’m having cognitive issues today, I at least have a temporary excuse. I’m not sure what I can say about the other eleven months…
Spring’s on the way to Opal’s Farm!
The cognitive issues were obvious this morning. I had a
great morning on the porch. Margaret is still sleeping so I extended my porch
time today. A lone Mockingbird serenaded me from the top of the street lamp;
announcing the coming Spring in song. He (or his kids) always show up when everything
gets ready to bloom and hangs around until the following Winter. I was so excited
I came to write about him and my morning thoughts. I did so until I hit something
on the keyboard that deleted my whole story. Definitely a cognitive issue!
Ss here I sit rewriting this morning’s post. I’m extremely
aware of my occasional Attention Deficit Disorder on mornings like this. I’m
not sure I remember what I wrote in the first place. “Squirrel!” Don’t laugh.
Some of you know exactly what I mean. Oh, I remember now…
I got to spend some time with my brother Craig this weekend.
I don’t get to do that as often as I’d like. I’m often asked why our mother
would name us Craig and Greg, so let me explain.
About eleven years ago, I suffered a couple of cerebral hemorrhages
that left me unable to work. Without health insurance or income, I ended up
losing my house after several months and was staring at imminent homelessness.
I frantically searched for housing programs for people in my position but had
found nothing by move-out day. My friend Craig (he wasn’t my brother yet, but I’ll
explain that in a bit) offered to let me stay at his place for a couple of
weeks while I looked for housing. I left five years later…
Craig and I spent our mornings on his porch or in his
workshop having coffee, praying together, and talking. After a couple of weeks,
Craig asked if I wanted to be his roommate. The coming years led to so much
more.
Men do not often have the kind of relationship Craig and I
have. I have good friends. My parents have passed away, but I have family: my
sister and her family in Georgia whom I love dearly. Still, the bond Craig and
I have is beyond mere friends. I think it hit home when Craig gave me a tobacco
pipe that he handmade in the shop (he’s amazingly talented with wood). I still
have the note that accompanied his gift. It’s taped to my desk so it’s the
first thing I see when I sit down to write. It says,
“Like David and
Jonathan, you are my best friend. This pipe is a token of my love for you.
Enjoy it my friend.”
Before David became the King of Israel, he had come to live
in then King Saul’s house. Jonathan, the King’s son, felt an immediate bond
with David and they became fast friends. King SauI and David went on to become
enemies, but it never changed the friendship between David and Jonathan. Samuel
18 tells us that Jonathan was “totally
committed to David. From that point on he would be David’s number-one advocate
and friend.” Later, “Jonathan, out of
his deep love for David, made a covenant with him. He formalized with solemn gifts:
his own royal robe and weapons…”
I know how richly I’m blessed to have my relationship with Craig. Many people, especially men, fail to foster such deep relationships with others. I won’t pretend to know all the answers why. I’m no relationship expert. Still, I’m filled with gratitude for one who has gone beyond friend to my brother. In the five years that I lived at Craig’s house , we never had a cross word with one another. Not to avoid conflicts, mind you. Peace and serenity are the natural by-products and love and respect.
My sister and I are both adopted. We know what it is to have
a family desire and love you so deeply that you become part of them. I was in
my fifties before I knew that I had an adopted brother. We may not share the same
parents, but we share the same Spirit. I’ve got the pipe to prove it…
Thoughts From the Porch: The temperature is dropping like a rock and the wind is blowing harder here in North Texas. My office is in the coldest part of the house. Normally, this is a good thing. I tend to be hot when everyone else is merely comfortable. Today’s a bit different. I need to add the space heater next to my desk to my Gratitude List for the day.
It doesn’t matter whether you believe in the literal creation story or if you see it as a metaphor for the beginning of human history; the end result is the same. Man, the rational animal, can act irrationally and believe things that simply aren’t true. I’m no scientist but I’m pretty sure that we’re somewhat unique in that regard.
Dad used to tell me, “Son, if it walks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck”. Straightforward and simple, right? You see, a duck doesn’t think itself anything other than a duck. It waddles down to the pond, takes a swim to find something to eat, and quacks at the other ducks. It doesn’t bark, stalk prey, or run like a cheetah, nor does it particularly want to. It’s a duck! Anyone can see that, right?
Imagine for a moment that you’re at the duck pond, feeding
the dusks, and someone walks up and says, “look at that Canadian Snow Swan”.
You look around and all you see are a flock of Mallards fighting each other for
a piece of bread. Intrigued and thinking the stranger a bit off his duff, you
ask what he’s talking about. He points to one of the less brightly colored Mallards
and says, “see, a Canadian Snow Swan”.
Now you know better. After all, you passed high school biology.
This guy must be confused. You press him a bit more. He explains that Canadian
Snow Swans are very similar to Mallards, but not as brilliantly colored. They
tend to follow Mallard flocks as they migrate to and from, so they are often
confused for Mallards. A seed of doubt was just planted.
A few days later, you’re at the same duck pond. Someone comes up and says, “Oh, look at the Mallards”. You wisely declare that they’re not all Mallards, a couple are Canadian Snow Swans. You proudly proclaim your thorough knowledge on the subject because “they” said. It doesn’t matter who “they” are, but apparently “they” are in the know. Now you one of “them”, and everyone believes a lie.
One of the first questions I ask someone when they tell me “they say that (fill in the blank) is who “they” are. Ninety-nine percent of the time the respondent has no idea who “they” are. The internet is full of “them”, experts in falsehood who proudly proclaim their version of “Truth” and it gets repeated over and over. After all, it was on the internet so it must be true…
Now the duck hasn’t changed, nor has the fact that it’s a
duck, but we now believe it to be something else. Having proclaimed it a
Canadian Snow Swan we now defend our position with a myriad of justifications –
“plausible, but untrue” explanations of our correctness. Nobody likes being
wrong, right?
One of the disastrous consequences of false belief is an equally false superiority over everyone who doesn’t believe the way we do. “They” are different rom “us”. Religion is a prime example. Talk about “us” and “them”! History is littered with the wreckage of “us” and “them”. I’ve heard it said that man can survive without a God but he cant’ live without a devil. The devil’s in “them”.
Sometimes I wonder if we can ever get past the “us” and “them”
mentality, the tribalism, that keeps us from being simply one of God’s kids.
That’s my own personal idealism and believe me, I’ve had plenty of people tell
me I’m wrong. The good news is that I’ve met a lot of folks who share that
ideal, so there’s still hope.
I may be completely wrong in all of this. I’ve never been a
duck so I’m not sure what’s going on in those little duck heads. What I know
for sure is that I’m capable of believing lies. I haven’t cornered the market
on “truth”, so I must depend on my fellows to lead me there. Maybe that’s why God
thought community so special: so that we could learn from one another and find
our way to a better place.
Thoughts From the Porch: It’s a wee bit chilly on the porch
this morning. Overcast skies make for a dreary opening for the month of March.
The good news is that I saw my first Robin this week. They tend to be a more
accurate predictor of Spring. It may be cold but today is the unofficial beginning
of Spring in my book. It’s time to get busy.
I’ve been a bit reflective of the last six years. You see, tomorrow Margaret and I will have been married six years. It’s hard to believe. It’s sounds so cliché to say it seems like yesterday, but in a way it does. On the other hand, my life without my beautiful wife seems like eons ago. That’s a good thing. I can’t imagine life without my bride.
I love telling the story of our “whirlwind” relationship. We
started dating on December 1st and got married three month later. I
tend to leave out the part that we’d been friends for many years prior to dating.
It’s more romantic that way.
I also tend to leave out the part about my proposal. It wasn’t
so romantic. Fortunately, when you get married in your fifties, practicality
has its own rewards. I debated whether I should include that part in this post,
but since many of our friends know about it anyway, here goes…
Margaret and I were at my house getting ready to go out to a
recovery function. We were running late so both of us were in the bathroom
getting ready. We were in rather inglorious positions, she was getting ready
and me shirtless, shaving away. It felt a bit like an old, married couple. I
laughed to myself, looked at Margaret and said, “You want to get married?”
She looked over and said, “Are you serious?”
I looked back at her. She looked radiant, despite the
awkwardness of our locale. “Yeah, I think so”. The rest my friends, is history.
She still teases me to this day about my ‘romantic’ proposal.
I freely admit it wasn’t one of my stellar moments, but it was the most important
question I ever asked in my life. The trajectory of my life changed in the
bathroom that day and it definitely changed for the better.
There are a couple of reasons I’m sharing this story today.
One is that we both had been single for many years prior to our marriage. Each
of us had reached a point where we thought that’s the way it would be, and we
were each okay with it. Life was good, but companionship would be great and
love even greater. We were both complete human beings loving the gift of life
and recovery as precious children of God. We were happy and content just the
way we were. We didn’t need someone
to feel whole. Had we started dating earlier (and believe me, I thought Margaret
was
hot and way out of my league),
neither of us would have been ready for the relationship we have today. It was
on God’s time and not ours.
Sometimes it feels like God’s time passes far too slowly. I
always want answers to life’s questions now, but it rarely works that way. I
knew how to fail in marriage, but I had no clue as to how to have a successful
one. If I’m honest, the only thing I knew for sure was what I didn’t want in a
relationship. Experience was a great teacher in that regard. Like Tom Petty
sang, “the waiting is the hardest part”.
Looking back, I had so much to learn and it took a lot of growth,
both personally and spiritually, to even be ready to meet someone special like
Margaret. I had to be led through the process of “becoming”. By the time we
began dating I had grown in my relationship with God and, consequentially, was ready
for someone like Margaret. Patience truly is a virtue. What I’m trying to say
is that Valentine’s Day may not be your favorite holiday when you’re single,
but it becomes one when you learn to treat yourself as worthy of love.
Secondly, even the simplest, most awkward of times can be
holy moments. I often think of how I would’ve liked to have proposed to Margaret.
I really can be romantic at times. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant
life would be any different. Margaret and I married eight days later. I was
scheduled for a craniotomy to remove an AVM that was bleeding in my head. Even
though it was to be a routine brain surgery by one of Fort Worth’s most respected
neurosurgeons I couldn’t fathom the idea of passing away without Margaret being
my wife. Our friends came together and planned a beautiful wedding in that
time. Over a hundred of them came to our wedding and we love each them dearly.
Thinking about tomorrow I find myself wishing to shower Margaret with gifts, kisses, and thanks. I can do the wishes and the thanks, but the gifts are going to be slim. We are struggling financially right now so I can commit all my efforts to our non-profit for the farm. We prayed about it and know this is what God wants us to do. That never would have happened in my past life – the prayer that is. God orders our steps today. That’s what makes ours a wonderful marriage – God is the center of it. The writer of Ecclesiastes says, “a rope of three cords is not easily broken”. Thanks to my beautiful, thoughtful, and loving wife for making a home of three cords: God, Margaret, and I…
Thoughts From the Porch: I intended to spend the weekend catching up on all the outdoor stuff I’d put off due to last week’s weather. I ended up cleaning house and spending time with my oldest granddaughter instead. The house was a disaster from a wet week (three big dogs make for three times the mess) so I spent Saturday with broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner. Sunday had big plans, but they were cast aside when I was able to spend time with Baillie. She’s a freshman in college and we don’t get to see each other as much.
I’ve
thought about Baillie a lot over the last few weeks and especially this
morning. It’s hard to believe the same little girl who rode in my old work
truck to church with me every week is now a beautiful young college student. It’s
so cliché to say, “it seems like yesterday when we (fill in the blank)”, but that’s
the way it is. It was four trucks and a lifetime ago.
I
originally sat down to write a Monday morning treatise on grace. My mind was
full of all kinds of theologically deep thoughts about “unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration
or sanctification” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary – italics mine). Fortunately, my
mind kept going back to my sweet granddaughter and the grace that’s filled our
lives.
When
Baillie was three or four, I was told that I’d never be a part of my
granddaughter’s life. My life was a mess; a tornado roaring through the lives
of everyone I touched. Looking back, I can’t argue with those who kept me away
from her. Fortunately, things began to change around the time she turned five:
I found recovery from the hopeless state of mind that made up my life. I found
grace.
I’d
love to tell you of this magical, mystical moment when I latched on to the wellspring
of grace and life changed, but I can’t. It was a process of receiving and
accepting progressively deeper levels of grace – from God and my fellows. Over
time, I’ve come to realize that all
is grace. My life has changed; has been transformed.
The
relationship I have with my granddaughter today is a constant reminder of the
grace, and subsequent gratitude, that fills my life. I still remember the first
time she came to spend Christmas with me. Those early visits were often short
but the highlight of my day. Weeks passed and the visits became more frequent.
Months later, we were off together in my old truck, laughing and spending days
together.
Things
have changed through the years. She’s graduated high school, works hard in
college, and has a host of friends her age that she hangs out with. Even though
time our time together has become less frequent, it’s become more valuable. I’m
always amazed and incredibly grateful when she comes running up to hug me and
spend time with Pops. Grace is an amazing thing.
I’m
convinced that those who have experienced the depths of God’s grace and the
love of a child understand grace better than most. They rely on it and their lives
are transformed. Their lives overflow with grace and gratitude and it touches
everything around them. That’s been my experience anyway.
I
wish you all a grace-filled Monday; grace that pours out into the world. I’m
off to my granddaughter’s house…
gregoryjoel.com 