Category: Prayer

Advent, Bible, Birthdays, Children, Choices, Christmas, Courage, Depression, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Generations, Grace, Grandchildren, Grief, Hope, Love, Parents, Peace, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Service to Others, Spirituality, Stories, The Holidays, Thoughts From the Porch

Christmas 2023

gregoryjoel

Time goes by far too quickly these days. It’s difficult to believe that December is here. It seems like I was planning Spring crops just a short while ago. It’s almost time to do so again. The seventy-five-degree high predicted is a reminder of that. Just so you all know, we still have tomatoes at Opal’s Farm. The first freeze hasn’t hit us yet. We get the “heat island” effect from being so close to downtown…

Today is one month since my last cigarette so I guess I can’t really call this “Thoughts From the Porch”. I’ve stayed away from the front porch and concentrated on the back yard outside my office. It helps with the cravings. The main thing that helps with the cravings though is the near-constant praying to stay smoke-free. So far, so good, and so much for the news updates…

The holidays are tough for me. My son, Jeremy, was born on Christmas Day. I’ve had difficulty with the holidays since his passing – so much so that my wife started calling me the Grinch last year. I try to show some Christmas spirit but I’m not successful at faking it. I’m hoping I can do better this year.

I’ve been especially blessed to be far more involved in my grandchildren’s life this past year. I’ve been able to spend more time with them than ever before. I’m not always sure they appreciate it as much now as they’re both young teenagers – why is it teenagers rarely give more than one-word answers?

Spending time with them is such a gift and sometimes, a curse – at least where grief is concerned.

They are both very much Jeremy’s children. Lucas looks so much like him that it brings tears sometimes. His mannerisms are – a constant reminder of Jeremy. Izabella, or Simone as Jeremy called (her middle name is Simone after Nina Simone) has every bit of his wit and often, sarcasm. Together they are amazing. My daughter-in-law, Amber, has done an amazing job raising them and getting them through losing their dad. She and I can share our grief that still comes in tidal waves at times.

But back to Christmas…

I’ve had a lackluster approach to Christmas since my parents passed away, especially Dad. He was Mister Christmas. It was his favorite holiday. He made the season special; especially where my boys were concerned. Much of that had to do with my parenting or lack thereof and my addiction had a lot to do with that. Still, he was my Christmas light and I enjoyed participating each year.

After his passing, Christmas was not as big of a deal. My mom moved to an apartment in a Senior Living Center so big celebrations rarely occurred. The last years before she passed in 2017 she moved to Atlanta to be near my sister. I always hated the idea of trying to find a gift for Mom. She was extremely hard to buy for and her body language often revealed her disappointment in my gifts. (***side note – she told me that my sobriety and my relationship with God were the best gifts I could’ve ever given her.)

When Jeremy died, the best thing about Christmas became January 2nd as it would be in the past and I had survived what felt like unbearable grief. I’ve shared that with my wife (as if she couldn’t tell) and she’s always been understanding. This year has been different. I came home from work the other day and she told me that I needed to become Mister Christmas. It was my turn. Dad and Jeremy were no longer there, and the tradition shouldn’t die with them. My grandkids needed me to be that very thing. I think my wife needs that too.

Christmas was never a religious holiday for me. I grew up in the Church of Christ and they didn’t celebrate it as Jesus’ birthday because that’s not in the Bible – which begets the question why they didn’t celebrate Easter because we know what that date is, but I digress… It was significant to my wife though and now the holiday needs to be special for my grandkids as well.

When I finish writing this, I will climb the attic stairs and pull down the Christmas tree and decorations. I’ll rearrange the living room to accommodate the tree and place it where Margaret, my wife, can enjoy looking at it. It’s likely I’ll shed a few tears as I place Jeremy’s ornaments – both the ones he made and the ones we were given over the years – on the tree. I’ll brave the tangle of lights and let Margaret direct the decorating. Afterwards, I’ll turn on the lights for all of us and pray that I can be Mister Christmas this year. I’ll swallow my sadness and allow the grief to come when I’m alone. Christmas is about everyone else anyway and I’ll not deny them that.

I won’t lie about my feelings. God made sure of that. I was at a recovery meeting recently and met two other people for whom grief is all too real. One gentleman lost his wife. The other lost her seventeen-year-old son to an overdose in May. I can seriously relate, and I can offer support and an ear because I’ve three years of experience to offer. I don’t have any answers, but I can be present for them while they search for their own. God has a way of turning tragedy into something – I don’t want to say something positive – but an opportunity to show His love and grace – to love others better.

My sponsor and friend Jim told me a long time ago that helping others and being there for others was the best way to find peace. Maybe that’s what comes this year. I hope and pray it comes for all of us.

Merry Christmas everyone…

Photo by lil artsy on Pexels.com
Christianity, Community, Culture, Emotional Health, Faith, Humility, Jesus, Marginalized, Opal's Farm, Prayer, Responsibility, Revival, Seeing Others, Service to Others, Songs, Songwriters, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Too Late to be a Good Samaritan

gregoryjoel

Fall is normally my time for self-introspection. North Texas summers usually keep that habit away – one can only think of finding air conditioning! It’s been above one hundred degrees for most of the summer with constant excessive heat warnings. Nights have stayed above eighty degrees since the first week of July so there’s little relief when evening comes. Most of North Texas is in severe drought. I suspect the media is right when they refer to this as the “new normal”. The sad thing is that everyone seems to accept it and do little to mitigate the problem, but that’s another blog post…

Back to reflection…

It was 111 degrees according to my truck thermometer when I left the farm. I cranked the air conditioning and headed to the house for a Zoom meeting. It was a brief hour break on a hot summer day to enjoy the AC, grab a snack, and change out of sweat-soaked clothes. I headed towards the turn to Interstate Thirty and there he was – lying next to the entrance ramp – sun beating down on him a mere three feet from the shade of an overpass. He was on his back and his arms outstretched slightly to the sky above. He was in the direct sunlight with shade only a couple of feet away. It was obvious he wasn’t merely sleeping. He was dead. His arms were stiff, rigor mortis had set in, and his body bloated from the afternoon sun.

One officer from the Fort Worth police came followed by the Tarrant County Medical Examiner’s van. I stayed long enough to give a statement and notice all the cars going by. How long had he been there, and no one noticed, or cared enough, to stop and call 911? I remembered the parable of the Good Samaritan. I guess I wouldn’t qualify here. I didn’t get here soon enough. I wondered what I would’ve done if I did…

The crime scene tape was never put up, no investigation made, and the ME loaded the body to take back to the morgue. The whole affair was over in about thirty minutes. The police seemed put out that the ME was taking so long. Just another homeless guy. No signs of violent trauma so time to get on to more important things like the comfort of air-conditioned squad car.

The scene has been seared on my brain ever since. I can’t help but wonder who the man was – what was his name, where was his family? Few people are totally alone in this world although many feel that way. He was somebody’s son, maybe a father, or maybe a brother. Would they find his family and report his death? Would he be missed? Would anyone grieve over his passing? Would anyone care? The news came on that evening. No one talked about the passing of another homeless person. I wasn’t surprised. Anonymous dead homeless guys simply aren’t newsworthy.

The farm is close to the night shelter and Union Gospel Mission. The city has worked hard to isolate the homeless (or more PC – “unhoused”) population to the “mission district”. Still, there’s far more homeless people than there are beds. Around the bend in the river there are several acres of thickets between the old drive-in and Gateway Park. There you’ll find several homeless camps and their number is growing every year. If you look closely, you find camps all around the city – under bridges, wooded areas, abandoned houses. The Tarrant County Homeless Coalition reported that “more than 5,000 households experienced homelessness throughout 2022 in Tarrant County” (Fort Worth Star- Telegram, February 13th, 2023).

We often have some homeless folks who make their way along Trinity Trail above the farm. They will occasionally ask for a bottle of water or rest in the shade of the farm’s only tree. Sometimes they carry on loud, and sometimes angry conversations with people unseen by us. Mental illness accounts for a significant portion of the homeless population. Panhandlers covered all the main intersections from the freeway to the farm. It’s easy to look past them; to avoid eye contact and hope the stoplight changes before they approach the car. I know. I’m guilty at times.

I’ve been praying about that a lot the last couple of weeks. I’ve been in their shoes and yet I forget all about them when my life got back on track. Suddenly, I’m too busy “doing good things with the farm” to notice them, to really see them, or to have a kind word. I become the priest or the Levite in Jesus’ tale of the Good Samaritan. It’s not that I don’t care. I’m just in too big of a hurry and don’t want to have any distractions from the day ahead. I have important things to do – at least in my own mind – and I fail to see Jesus right in front of me (see Matthew Chapter 25…?). Nothing is too important to not to see and acknowledge the divine in each of God’s kids.

Joan Osborne recorded a song in 1995 that resonates with me today especially. It reminds me that I can see God everywhere. He might even be panhandling on the street corner.

Community, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Equal Rights, Faith, Food Justice, God's Economics, Gratitude, History, Hope, Juneteenth, Neighbors, Opal's Farm, Peace, Prayer, Quotes, Racism, Relationships, Respect, Service Organizations, Service to Others, Simplicity, Social Justice, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, Unity Unlimited, Inc.

Celebrating Juneteenth and Freedom

gregoryjoel

Happy Juneteenth to you all! Ms. Opal’s Walk for Freedom starts at 9:30 this morning. I hope you can be there. I will be at Opal’s Farm irrigating since veggies don’t like the hundred-degree heat. It is June in Texas!

I hope you all take a moment to reflect on the celebration of emancipation and what that means for all of us. I keep hearing Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” in my head this morning – “Emancipate yourself from mental slavery none but ourselves can free our mind”. Freedom from racism, from hate, from all the isms and ways of thinking that hold us all in bondage. As Ms. Opal Lee always reminds us, “If someone can be taught to hate then they can be taught to love” and “No one is free until we are all free.”

I hope you all celebrate release from bondage today in the spirit of Juneteenth and freedom for all. Ms. Opal says we should celebrate from Juneteenth to July 4th. I can do that and hope you all will too!

Side note – Taste of Juneteenth will be on July 1st at Panther Island Pavilion. There will be BBQ pitmasters competing in the BBQ cookoff and delicious sides. Come for a day of celebration and great food!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOFu6b3w6c0

Community, Connection, Emotional Health, Faith, Farmers Markets, Food Justice, Gratitude, Health, Music, Non-Profits, Nutrition, Opal's Farm, Prayer, Relationships, Service Organizations, Service to Others, Social Justice, Spirituality, Texas Music, Thoughts From the Porch, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming

Impatient Patient

gregoryjoel

I’ve learned that if you won’t take a break from work then the universe tends to make you! I’ve spent the last five days in the hospital (more on that in a minute) due to a raging infection that started with what appeared to be a fire ant bite. No one knows for sure but that triggered it. The swelling, redness, and heat have gone down a lot, thanks to some high-powered IV antibiotics. I can actually see my knuckles again! Hopefully I will be discharged from the hospital and switch to oral antibiotics on Monday and then it’s back to the farm.

When they admitted me, they put me in the “Hospital at Home” program. I feel like I should have an ankle monitor since I’m required to stay home (it’s a good version of house arrest), but “facts are not feelings”. This is a wonderful care program developed by Texas Health Resources. They put in all the tech equipment necessary to keep me in touch with my care team. I receive several visits per day from paramedics to help with medications and IVs as well as from Nurse Practitioners. The iPad keeps virtual doctor and nurse contact, and my vital signs are monitored the same as in the hospital itself. They’ve also discovered that patients heal quicker in their own homes. I get it. I never thought I would say that I’ve enjoyed a hospital stay, but the care team is amazing. Texas Health Resources is not only a great sponsor of the farm but a great health partner personally.

Amber and Amanda have done an outstanding job of keeping things going at the farm. This is probably the worst possible time to be down, but they have kept the growing season going strong. They’ve also kept me updated several times a day. They had the best day so far at Cowtown Farmers Market this morning for Opal’s Farm. Amber has done such an incredible job with the biointensive beds that we have more produce than we have storage for. That’s a great problem to have, but it’s still a problem. Thanks to the Rainwater Foundation and Grow SE we will be getting a cargo trailer and a chill bot to handle cold storage issues.

I’ve tried to be a good patient and follow doctor’s orders. I stay in bed much of the day and prop my arm with a pillow. I’ve seen more Netflix in the last five days, than I’ve seen in a year. I’ve been able to catch up on the endless stream of paperwork that comes with the farm. I’ve also had time to reflect on this life I’ve been given. I recently reconnected with my best friend in high school and college, Tim Dwyer. Twenty years and quite a few miles have come and gone since we’ve talked. Facebook provided a wonderful opportunity to connect with each other.

I remember little of my childhood. The mental health folks assume I must have some kind of repressed trauma that restrains my memories. The only trauma I can think of was growing up in the Church of Christ but that didn’t become apparent until my adult years. What I do remember is having loving parents and growing up in a white middle class home, but never quite fitting the mold of all the other kids.

Music made life tolerable, but when I discovered alcohol, the world became alive – at least for a while. Music was always by my side. Alcohol and drugs betrayed me. Tim was my friend through both.

That’s why this reconnection was so important to me. True friends, like Tim, are rare.

Enough of waxing nostalgic for now anyway. I can hardly wait to get back to the farm and although I will have to stay “out of the dirt” for a few days I can still do the tractor work waiting for me there. I will try to be better at posting updates and writing. It’s been quite infrequent over a very long Spring. Amber and Amanda have posted some great stuff on Instagram though. See what’s coming to market there – @opalsfarm.

Choices, Christmas, Consequences, Depression, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Giving, Gratitude, Listening, Marriage, Prayer, Relationships, Seasons, Service to Others, Simplicity, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Christmas Feelings and Wishes

gregoryjoel

The sun is shining brightly reminding us that warmth is on its way after the brutal Arctic front plunged the thermometer for the last couple of days. We took the holidays off from Cowtown Farmers Market for the holidays so we could spend time with family and friends. The fifty-mile-an-hour wind that accompanied the freezing temperatures may have caused a longer absence from market – the low tunnels and bed coverings couldn’t stand up to the wind – but we won’t know the full extent of the damage until next week. At least we haven’t lost power and haven’t had to sleep with four big dogs and in insulated coveralls to stay warm!

I haven’t been able to muster a whole lot of Christmas spirit this year. Grief comes exceptionally strong this time of year – Jeremy was born on Christmas Day – and I associate the holidays with loss. I had planned to go to Kentucky to spend Christmas with Momma and the weather quashed that plan. Upon awakening this morning, I summoned all my energy to fight pulling the covers over my head and sleeping (or at least feigning sleep) until December 26th. I got up, brushed my teeth, and made coffee. I made breakfast for my wife and sat down and stared at the computer screen for a long while.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

There are some things I’ve learned about grief, mainly that it never goes away. The stretch of good days begins to become longer with time, but grief will rear its ugly head at the most inconvenient of times – a song, a scene in a movie, the holidays – the list goes on. This year it began early with an art show that was a tribute to Jeremy. Then came Thanksgiving and now Christmas.

Grief may never go away but difficult moments always pass. It will always go to sleep or at least retreat for a time. The retreats last longer than they did after Jeremy died. Greif may be overwhelming at times, but life still goes on. It only feels all consuming. I must no longer let feelings run my life, but I do have to feel them.

As I sat staring at the computer this morning it dawned on me that my grief has consequences not only for me but those close to me as well. I may not want to do Christmas, but my family does. Christmas is Margaret’s favorite holiday. I used to get the tree and Christmas decorations out early so she could wrap the house in decorations and Christmas spirit. Then her mobility became so limited. This year it fell on me to get everything out of the attic which I managed to put off until last week. My step kid was going to do the decorating, but it kept getting put off until finally my wife told me last night that I should put everything back in the attic. “Nobody else thought Christmas was important.” She didn’t say it with malice or sarcasm, but I could feel her disappointment.

So… I’m only going to sit here long enough to tell you that I’m off to set up the Christmas tree and decorate our home for tomorrow.

I want to wish each and every one of you a blessed and Merry Christmas. If you’re having a hard time with the holidays as so many do, please know that you’re not alone. My prayers go out to those for whom Christmas is a reminder of loss and pain. If you’re having a really tough time, I suggest what my friend Jim told me long ago, “If you’re wrapped up in your painful feelings, then go help someone else.” That’s what I’m going to do today. It’s always worked well in the past…