Grace. Do I really believe it’s possible to receive “unmerited divine assistance”? Do I really believe that I’ve been granted “approval, favor, mercy, and pardon”; that somehow, I’ve received “a special favor”? Do I show a “disposition to kindness, courtesy, or clemency”? Is grace the “attractive trait or characteristic” of my life?
Thoughts From the Porch: The last few days have been a preview of Spring in North Texas. It was shorts and tee-shirt weather and even hit the eighty-degree mark. Yesterday morning was a reminder that Winter won’t be leaving for a while yet. Today was the coldest day of winter so far: a mere 25 degrees. I know my friends in Chicago and the Midwest are saying, “what a wimp”, but it drove me to the desk in rapid time so here I sit, coffee at hand and Stevie Wonder on the stereo.
February is the shortest month of the year as far as the
number of days goes, but it seems like it’s unending. Regardless of what a
large furry rodent says about Spring’s timing, February will last for months.
That’s what February does.
The good news about this February is that the ribbon cutting for Opal’s Farm is going well. Invitations are being sent and we’ve had a great response given those who have sent their RSVP. We secured tents in the event of inclement weather (it is Texas…). Thank goodness it fell in an interminably long month. Maybe we’ll get everything done…
As I write this it’s mid-morning here in Fort Worth. I rarely
sleep in and never on a work day. However, I feel into bed quite exhausted last
night. Apparently, I never set the alarm. Even without the alarm I’m usually up
and about by 7 AM at the latest. Today it was well after 8:00. My body said “stop”
and I must have listened, at least subconsciously. It’s taken several cups of coffee
to clear the fog hanging around my head, but here I sit.
Yesterday, Ms. Opal and I had the opportunity to speak to a Food
Justice class at Texas Christian University. Thank you, Dr. David Aftandilian,
for asking us to make a presentation about Opal’s Farm. He also works with the
Tarrant County Food Policy Council and I can’t begin to tell you how much that
work is appreciated. My work with Opal’s Farm has brought me in contact with so
many people who work diligently to improve food justice and access for the
residents of Tarrant County and North Texas.
The greatest difficulty I face when speaking about food scarcity
and access is the time limits imposed by everyone else’s schedule. I easily go
on for hours about these issues for hours. That’s why I’m so passionate about
Opal’s Farm. I have no doubt that everybody would love to resolve hunger and
food injustices, not just in Tarrant County, but everywhere. Unfortunately,
that problems so big that it often seems too abstract to solve. I’m under no
illusions. Opal’s Farm won’t settle the entire problem, but it will make a dent
in it. It’s something tangible. It puts the face of our neighbors, people who
live right here in Tarrant County. It addresses their needs one person at a
time.
I have a friend who’s been in the substance abuse and
recovery field for over twenty years how she managed to stay so positive when
the problem can be so difficult and frustrating. She said her focus was on the one,
not the many, that made her work so important. Like her, I know I can’t “fix it
all”, but I can do something. Farming is the first step.
“If you can’t feed
a hundred people, then feed just one.” — Mother Teresa
Ultimately, Opal’s Farm isn’t about the food it produces nor
the access it provides. Those are the means to an end. The end is serving
people, of transforming lives by being of service, by offering opportunity,
education, and simple human dignity, but it begins with a farm…
Thank you again to TCU for inviting Ms. Opal and I to speak.
Thank you to the college students eager to learn and seek solutions. Thank you
to all the folks who are working to find and create solutions to food
injustices, poor nutrition, and hunger for all our neighbors. Thank you to all
our fellow urban farmers who work diligently to ward the solution. Thanks to
all of you who jump in and donate to become “farmers” along side all of us at
Opal’s Farm!
“As we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people
“We
must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Today is the holiday commemorating Dr King’s birth. Festivities are planned in Downtown Fort Worth later this morning. My grandkids have the day off from school. Government offices are closed, although not only because of the holiday. Some have been closed for a while. Thirty-one days to be exact…
“When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.” — Edward Teller
One of my favorite scenes from
the “Indiana Jones” movies where Harrison Ford’s character must step out in
faith over a giant chasm in order to reach the Holy Grail. With his nemesis
holding him and the people he loves at gunpoint, he’s at wit’s end and out of
options. He steps out into the darkness of the abyss. As he takes the first
step a narrow bridge begins to come into view. Unfortunately, it can only be
seen with each successive step, one step at a time. Each step requires more
courage, more faith, than the one before. I can’t recall how many steps it took
to get across the dark abyss, but I’d like to think it was twelve. I can
relate…
That scene’s been on my mind a lot lately. Margaret and I are experiencing some difficulties as late. Finances have been tough since my hospital stay earlier this year. Business has been slower than projected. Opal’s Farm still has a way to go before all the start-up costs are in hand and planting is scheduled for February 15th. How are we going to do this? It’s a little overwhelming at times (OK, a lot overwhelming…) The chasm looks awfully vast at times…
If I get honest, I’m a lot like
Indiana Jones (well, except for the whole “dashing adventure hero” thing…). I
usually need to be backed into a corner with no options or solutions in sight. I
know there’s absolutely no way I can get out of the situation before I’m
willing to step out into the darkness. I forget the fact that in looking back, a
path has always been carved through
the darkness and it’s always illuminated. If the path isn’t clear, I learn to
fly before I crash into the bottom of the abyss. Always! Though I usually don’t
see it until later…
You’d think that with such a
proven track record I’d push right through whatever obstacle was in my way. It
doesn’t always work like that. Taking that first step into the abyss isn’t my
first choice. I temporarily forget God’s faithfulness. As my friend Edgar likes
to remind me, “I’m not a slow learner,
just a fast forgetter”.
“Trials are not enemies of
faith but are opportunities to prove God’s faithfulness.” — Author Unknown
Ironically, my memory gets
sharper as I grow older: at least in matters of faith (in other areas, yeah,
not so much…) It doesn’t take as long to remember God’s faithfulness even when
mine is absent. One of my favorite reminders is Psalms 119.105: “Your word for my feet and a lamp for my
path”. The funny thing about a lamp is that it only shows what’s
immediately ahead. I can only see the path if I keep stepping out, one step at
a time…
I’ve spent far too much time stressed out about things beyond my control, so I’m stepping out. Whether I’ll be walking or flying, I’m not sure yet. What I do know is that I’ll see you on the other side…
gregoryjoel.com 