Category: History

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Snakes in the Grass

gregoryjoel

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everyone! Saint Patrick died on this day in 461 A.D. and became the patron Saint of Ireland for his missionary work in Ireland. Following his death, many legends and myths grew around his evangelical work among the Druid population of the island. It is said that the four-leaf clover was how he taught the Trinity to the locals and thus became a part of the lore around Saint Patrick.

All I was taught in school was that Saint Patrick was responsible for driving all the snakes out of Ireland. I was quite disappointed when I learned there were never snakes in Ireland to begin with. However, the snake represented the devil and all kinds of evil. Metaphorically, he drove the “snakes”, the Druids and paganism, from Ireland. That makes sense except that there are “snakes” in Ireland just like everywhere else in the world. That’s unfortunate but true…

Saint Patrick lived a difficult life as a Christian. He suffered enslavement to a Druid warlord and later escaped back to his beloved Britain but chose willingly to return to Ireland to spread the gospel. There he was threatened with death, survived several assassination attempts, more enslavement, and continued ridicule and harassment. Still, he chose to remain and be faithful to his spiritual calling.

I often wonder how he could have continued in the face of such resistance – how he could have continued to be kind to his enemies. I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness and what it means to truly be kind. It’s difficult in the best of times but even more so when faced with the current political climate, deep divisions, Christian nationalism and yes, road rage (I’m talking about myself). I strive to live kindly towards all, but I often fall woefully short. What does it mean to be kind to even my “enemies”?

I’ve spent many hours researching what kindness is all about and how to exercise kindness (not “niceness” which is a whole other story…) in my life. I found this little gem in today’s reading:

“No matter how misguided some opinions may be, I do not have to be the purveyor and filterer of all the truth in the world, and sometimes my inside voice needs to stay right where it is: inside”

– Bruce Reyes-Chow, “In Defense of Kindness – Why It Matters, How It Changes Our Lives, and How It Can Save the World”

It dawned on me that the majority of the problems in my life are the result of speaking aloud what should remain as my inside voice. I tend to be an open book. While vulnerability and real communication is something we all could use more of, striking the balance between our “inside” and “outside” voice is something I struggle with.

I have to leave for the farm in a bit so I’m asking God to help me watch the inside voice today. If you struggle with your inside voice coming out at some inappropriate times I’d love to hear how you’re learning to keep it inside. I’d love to hear specifics about how you treat those who often make the inside voice go crazy because quite frankly, there’s a lot of snakes out there…

Statue of St Patrick within St James, Milton by Basher Eyre is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0
Christianity, Common Courtesy, Communication, Community, Courage, Faith, Grace, History, Humility, Opal's Farm, Quotes, Relationships, Role Models, Spirituality, Stories, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Snakes in the Grass

gregoryjoel

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everyone! Saint Patrick died on this day in 461 A.D. and became the patron Saint of Ireland for his missionary work in Ireland. Following his death, many legends and myths grew around his evangelical work among the Druid population of the island. It is said that the four-leaf clover was how he taught the Trinity to the locals and thus became a part of the lore around Saint Patrick.

All I was taught in school was that Saint Patrick was responsible for driving all the snakes out of Ireland. I was quite disappointed when I learned there were never snakes in Ireland to begin with. However, the snake represented the devil and all kinds of evil. Metaphorically, he drove the “snakes”, the Druids and paganism, from Ireland. That makes sense except that there are “snakes” in Ireland just like everywhere else in the world. That’s unfortunate but true…

Saint Patrick lived a difficult life as a Christian. He suffered enslavement to a Druid warlord and later escaped back to his beloved Britain but chose willingly to return to Ireland to spread the gospel. There he was threatened with death, survived several assassination attempts, more enslavement, and continued ridicule and harassment. Still, he chose to remain and be faithful to his spiritual calling.

I often wonder how he could have continued in the face of such resistance – how he could have continued to be kind to his enemies. I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness and what it means to truly be kind. It’s difficult in the best of times but even more so when faced with the current political climate, deep divisions, Christian nationalism and yes, road rage (I’m talking about myself). I strive to live kindly towards all, but I often fall woefully short. What does it mean to be kind to even my “enemies”?

I’ve spent many hours researching what kindness is all about and how to exercise kindness (not “niceness” which is a whole other story…) in my life. I found this little gem in today’s reading:

“No matter how misguided some opinions may be, I do not have to be the purveyor and filterer of all the truth in the world, and sometimes my inside voice needs to stay right where it is: inside”

– Bruce Reyes-Chow, “In Defense of Kindness – Why It Matters, How It Changes Our Lives, and How It Can Save the World”

It dawned on me that the majority of the problems in my life are the result of speaking aloud what should remain as my inside voice. I tend to be an open book. While vulnerability and real communication is something we all could use more of, striking the balance between our “inside” and “outside” voice is something I struggle with.

I have to leave for the farm in a bit so I’m asking God to help me watch the inside voice today. If you struggle with your inside voice coming out at some inappropriate times I’d love to hear how you’re learning to keep it inside. I’d love to hear specifics about how you treat those who often make the inside voice go crazy because quite frankly, there’s a lot of snakes out there…

Statue of St Patrick within St James, Milton by Basher Eyre is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0
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Happy Juneteenth! Happy Freedom Day!

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Opal’s Farm celebrated Juneteenth in a big way this year. We missed Miss Opal’s Walk to Freedom since we were at Cowtown Farmers Market yesterday, we had a record-breaking day in produce sales at the market! Thank you to all our friends and customers – many of whom were first time visitors to the market – who came out to wish us well and celebrate the Juneteenth weekend with us. You made our day extra special!

We loaded up the market stuff and headed to Panther Island Pavilion for the I Am Juneteenth Festival where we saw many old friends and met many new ones. It was even bigger and better that last years party and highlighted Freedom Day for us all. Many new vendors and food trucks came, and all ate well. Thank you, Miss JoAnn, and Miss Mattie’s Food Truck for the amazing food! You hold a special place in our heart. We look forward to seeing you every chance we get (and tomatoes are coming your way!).

The Dock Bookstore sat up right across from us, which was a real treat. The Dock has been at Meadowbrook and Handley Drive for fourteen years. Please drop by sometime to enjoy what a bookstore is supposed to be. Celebrate and support our local businesses that are so vital to our community.

The music and entertainment were terrific. Fireworks ended the evening of celebration with a spectacular show reminding each one of us that freedom is to be celebrated from June 19th through July 4th. It’s freedom for all of us regardless of race, religion, or politics. It’s time to celebrate our shared humanity and press on to a better community.

Miss Opal’s Walk to Freedom 2022 –
Miss Opal and Unity’s Executive Director Ms. Dione Sims

Ms. Opal addressed the crowd and then came to our booth to meet, greet, and sign copies of her children’s book, Juneteenth. I watched as the line grew long to meet “The Grandmother of Juneteenth”. Parents asks for pictures of Ms. Opal with their kids and themselves. They wanted their children to understand the history of Juneteenth and Ms. Opal’s life of advocacy and activism. I was mesmerized by the way she touches the hearts of everyone she meets, but especially the children. The message she sends is always the same – there’s much to be done. Know where you’ve been so you know where you’re going. Acknowledge the past so we can all move forward. Love others – especially in the small ways – and remember we all bleed red, we’re all brothers and sisters, and above all, each one of us are God’s children. Treat God’s kids well.

On this special Juneteenth – Freedom Day – I can’t think of anything better to do than that…

Ms. Opal and Gubernatorial Candidate
Beto O’Rourke
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Family Reunions With a Brand New Family

gregoryjoel

North Texas has been in various stages of drought since last summer. Rain has been sparse this Spring, but timing is everything – it came just in time to relieve my anxiety about leaving town (and the farm) over Memorial Day weekend. I attended a family reunion at the family farm in Kentucky and quite frankly, I’m still feeling overwhelmed by this family I never knew I had.

A little backstory – you need to know that I’m adopted. I was blessed to have the most wonderful parents one could ask for. Mom and Dad always told me that I was special because I was chosen – hand-picked if you will. Dad passed in 2002 and Mom passed away in 2017. Rarely a day passes without thinking about them.

I had taken a DNA test sometime ago and last Spring I got serious about finding my birth mother. I found an incredible Facebook group called DNA Detectives. I asked for some help and was amazed at how quickly they found my biological parents. I sent a letter to my birth mother, and she called a few days later. At sixty-two years old a new chapter of my life began. I have been doubly blessed with Mom and Momma.

We talked weekly and learned that I had five half-siblings, two younger brothers and three sisters. My eldest son, Adrian, and I went to Kentucky in September to meet them in person. Margaret and I returned to Kentucky in November and spent Thanksgiving week with my newfound family. I spent a few days in Kentucky over Memorial Day weekend for the family reunion and met a plethora of cousins, nieces, and nephews that came from Texas, Tennessee, Arkansas, Colorado, and Kentucky to be with my Momma at Flint Ridge, our family farm.

Flint Ridge – the McCuddy family home – the house was built in 1804 and purchased by Napoleon McCuddy in 1829
The old smokehouse at Flint Ridge – the cracks in the walls were from the New Madrid Earthquakes of 1811-1812

I introduced myself to one of my cousins and the response was “Oh, so you’re the subject of all the conversations the last few days”. I think it was meant positively though given the welcome I received from the family.

I can’t explain what it feels like to be among a crowd of people who look like you. I’m told that I favor my grandfather, and I look just like my Uncle David, both of whom passed away before I knew them, but the pictures are awesome. I apparently also look like my cousin Tommy because I was mistaken for him a couple of times.

I believed what my father had always told me about being special until I found out the rest of my world found being “special” really being “different”. I guess that why I felt at ease with all these people. I wasn’t different. I was like a whole room full of people that looked like me and felt a part of.

I talked, laughed, and did a lot of careful listening to the stories of my family. I think nurture is way overrated as a major influence in development. This last year has taught me that genes are far more responsible for who I am than my environment ever could be. Momma told me that when she visited Flint Ridge many years ago that something happened when she crossed the Tennessee River – it was where she belonged. I knew exactly what she meant.

One of my happiest moments of the weekend is when my cousin Brian said He wished I grown up with them. My cousins knew how to have fun. My brother Mark and I have talked about this. He always wanted a brother and so did I. Between talking to him and talking to Momma I’ve concluded that three boys with the same appetite would’ve put Momma in the poor house. Mark and I would have been good for one another or really, really bad…

I’ve learned that I am my mother’s son. I am just like her in so many ways, even down to the foods we like and dislike. I’ve come to know how blessed I am to have a momma who loves me and has for the sixty-two years we were apart. Last August I received my “first” birthday card from Momma.

I’m blessed to come from “good stock” – I could listen to the story of my grandparent’s relationship for hours – how my grandfather turned his back on fortune and chose love instead. Someday I’ll be able to share that one, but not today.

During a lull in the festivities, I walked off by myself to the family cemetery. I looked at the headstones. The names and dates told a rich history of the McCuddy family, my family. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a small container that held some of my son Jeremy’s ashes. Jeremy led me to this place. He often asked me why I didn’t put more effort into finding my birth mother. It was his sudden death that pushed me to share my DNA results with total strangers on Facebook and find my momma. It was somehow fitting that some of his ashes rest at Flint Ridge among his ancestors – his blood.

May 29th was the first day of the reunion and the second anniversary of Jeremy’s death. God has a way of holding broken hearts close to his heart. That day will always be bittersweet – a reminder that God wraps us all in arms of love and family.

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“If we are to heal our ecological wounds, we need to shift from settler views of individual land ownership to Indigenous views of communal land stewardship.” – Liuan Huska, “Rethinking Property Rights”

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