Category: Recovery

Christianity, Recovery, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Ragamuffins

gregoryjoel

The sun shines brightly on the porch this morning. The cold front that came through last night is far less severe than the last few ones. Winter is spent, even though it still throws waves of cold air, hoping to hang on. Spring is not having it, though. Shorts and a t-shirt are the garb of the day…

I started reading The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning a few days ago. It’s an annual thing I do. I was first introduced to Brennan early in my recovery by my brother Craig. Although I’ve given many copies away over the years I still have the first one he gave me: well-worn, loved, and treasured. I find something I missed each time I read it. I choose to believe that’s because of Brennan’s great insight and not the fact that my memory isn’t what it used to be…

If I may, I’ll share a little of Brennan’s background for those of you who may not be acquainted with him. He called himself a “vagabond evangelist”, a former Catholic priest who also happened to be a recovering alcoholic. That’s what initially sparked my interest in him early in my own recovery. Brennan knew, in no uncertain terms, that everything in his (and our) life is grace given by a God who is absolutely, crazy in love with him (and us). He influenced and helped so many people throughout his ministry as a “vagabond evangelist”. He passed away a few years ago. I cherish his insights and words of wisdom today.

Brennan wasn’t perfect. Many people felt let down by his relapses with alcohol, especially people in recovery. We can be a harsh, judgmental lot. We tend to think of relapse as failure. Brennan was consistent in his recovery – he brushed himself off and “got back on the horse” as we say here in Texas – and more importantly, in his relationship with God.

I think that’s why I re-read The Ragamuffin Gospel so many times. I need to be reminded that I, too, fail more than I’d ever like to admit. I need to be reminded that I desperately need the God of my understanding, the one that Brennan helped me find. I need to be reminded that no matter how imperfect or how many times I fall, God loves me: not just unconditionally (a word that has been so overused it has lost its impact), but in an incredibly awesome way I can’t even imagine. That fills me with hope and best of all, trust.

I’m okay with being a ragamuffin today. As a friend of mine tells me, “we’re just one beggar telling another beggar where we found food”. I came to God beaten-down, ragged, and dirty. My life was a mess and I hope I never forget that it still can be. The Teacher I follow today reminds me, “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule”. I trust that is the case today. It seems to work for me. Today I’m just a ragamuffin who gets to eat at the banquet. So, Brennan, thanks for sharing the feast…

Recovery, Spirituality, Texas, Uncategorized

Go Yankees?

gregoryjoel

I didn’t have much time on the porch this weekend. I was at my grandson’s first baseball game of the season (and of his) on Saturday. I never thought I’d be a Yankees fan, but his team is the Fire Station Yankees. So, I can wholeheartedly admit that I’m a Yankees fan, although I still choke a little on the words. My Grandson had two singles and an RBI and they won. Yes, they did keep score, but I’m sure everyone will get a participation trophy (because in an ideal world…). Go Yankees!!!

I wish I’d taken my coat. Another visitor from the Arctic northland crossed over into Texas Friday night and the mornings have been close to freezing. My long-sleeved shirt did little to take the bite out of a bone-chilling north wind (Note to self: just because the sun is brightly shining doesn’t mean the jacket can stay at home…). Such is the rollercoaster of Spring here in Fort Worth. Apparently, other parts of the country are dealing with the same up and down of the thermometer. While those in other places deal with snow, we deal with tornado warnings. At least we’re not shoveling snow, right?

Texas is known for many things, most of which I’m extremely proud of. I’m a native Texan, born in Fort Worth. I come from a very traditional Texas home. My father taught me early on to always be proud of where I was born. After all, I could’ve been born in Dallas. People from outside Texas think Dallas and Fort Worth are one and the same. I can assure they are not. One of local radio stations, The Ranch, says it best – “Fort Worth is where the west begins, and Dallas is where the east just kind of peters out”.

I’ve lived other places over the years. I spent high school and college in Colorado and my youngest son was born there. I loved the time I had there. I had an internship in Washington D.C. and soon learned I’m not an east coast kind of guy. I’ve lived in Houston and moved back to Colorado. They were nice places to visit but I’m glad to be back in Fort Worth. It seems God knew the perfect place for me. I’ll probably be laid to rest in our family plot a couple miles from here. I’m not sure what heaven is like, but I can’t help but think it will be a lot like Texas…

Yet, as much as I love my state, I’ve become honest enough to admit it has its defects, particularly in the political, educational, healthcare areas. For which I wish to apologize to the rest of the country. We’ve been egotistical and arrogant when we’ve ventured into other parts of the world (like Oklahoma for instance…). We’ve fostered a feeling of superiority, of “us and them”. Dad used to have a bumper sticker (the only one I’d ever seen him put on a vehicle) that read, “If you love New York, take I-30 east”. The immigrants to our beloved state, particularly those from north of the Red River, were different. They weren’t like “us”. They brought with them a manner of living that was different from ours. Too often, we have equated “different” with “bad”. I look back at my youth and not only was race or culture a dividing line, but religion as well. When we moved to Colorado, all our friends were ex-patriot Texans from the same church for the most part; everyone else was suspect.

I’m grateful to have been able to step outside of the state lines and look inside. I’m glad I can see my home, and myself, with a degree of clarity today. My perceptions of the world around me have changed. Dad always told me that if you could identify the problem, you were halfway to the solution. That’s been true for me: and the solution was a new lens through which to view life. I just hope it can be true for all of us…

Christianity, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality

Grades…

gregoryjoel

The Spring rollercoaster continues here in North Texas. The weatherman says to enjoy the almost summer-like temperatures and then brace for another visitor from the north. I’m following his suggestion. I’m spending my time this morning with my beautiful wife and all is well in the world…

Our twenty-something daughter lives with us while she’s finishing college. I’m glad we can assist her in her academic and career pursuits. Still, having grown children move back home has its own unique challenges. I always laugh when I hear parents talking about “when kid turns eighteen and moves out”. If they only knew…

Earlier, I had been making coffee and overheard the conversation in the living room between my daughter and my wife. I don’t want to share their business or bore you with the details but there was one thing that caught my attention. My daughter, the aspiring teacher, said, “in an ideal world there wouldn’t be any grades”. In an ideal world there wouldn’t be a lot of things. In an ideal world…

My views of an “ideal” world have changed since I was my daughter’s age. Some of the issues are still the same – justice, peace, economic and social inequality – but my perspective has changed. I’d like to think that comes with experience, wisdom, and age – but it has far more to do with the relationship I have with God than anything else I’ve done over the years.

In many ways, life has come full circle for me today. I recall being idealistic and, like our daughter, angry at the injustices and inequities suffered by so many in the world. Back then, I wanted to change the world. Today, I want to change my actions and let God change my heart. Consequently, I see the world differently.

It took me a long time to figure out the difference. Trying to control the means to manipulate my surroundings, however noble the ends, only brought frustration, cynicism, and apathy. Trying to cooperate with the will of the God of my understanding changes the means and brings me hope. The biggest difference between the youthful and the older idealist is who’s in control of the ends, the outcomes.

All that idealism talk got me thinking about grades – or the lack thereof. I understand they can often be used to define a person’s worth or to divide people into less-than or better-than. If that’s the case, then my daughter’s probably right. However, grades are often the things that spur us on to greater endeavors. Grace and grades are not mutually exclusive terms.

I’m not sure if Mr. Monninger my “favorite” teacher, but he was certainly the most “memorable”. He taught creative writing in my senior year of high school. One of our assignments was a short story. I waited until the last minute to complete it, knowing I’d turned in “A” work. When the papers were graded and passed out I was shocked to find an “F” written across the top. I stewed over the grade all through class. I knew I had turned in good work. I may not have been an “A” student in all my academics, but English (we called it Language Arts back then…) was my strength and I knew I’d turned in superior work. WHAT WAS THIS CRAP!???

I approached Mr. Monninger after the bell rang and the other students filed out. I demanded to know what the “F” was about. To my surprise, he agreed with me: I had written an “A” paper. The problem was that it wasn’t an “A” paper for me. He told me I was better than that and he wouldn’t accept less than my best. Then he said if I wanted to write what I was capable of, rather than just enough to get by, he would reconsider my grade.

I rewrote that story. I gave it my best and he changed my grade. He refused accept mediocre work – but more importantly, he refused to let me accept mediocrity. He wanted me to reach inside and pull the best out of me. I doubt he remembers that moment, or even me for that matter. I do! He taught me a very valuable lesson that day. I still remember…

I know I’m infinitely loved by the God of my understanding. I know that everything in my life is grace. I know that His acceptance of me isn’t based on “grades”. I also know He wants me to “have life and have it abundantly”. Sometimes that requires “grades”, experiences that make me reach inside and pull out the better self. He stretches me well beyond my comfort zone; not to earn His approval but to learn how to love others (and sometimes myself) better.

I don’t know if there are grades in an ideal world or not, but I’m grateful for a Teacher that believes in me – brings out the best in me. People tend to live up to what’s expected of them. Thank you, Mr. Monninger…

 

Christianity, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality

Happy Birthday to…

gregoryjoel

My time on the porch was brief this morning. Texas weather has a lot to do with that. Yesterday, it was 80 degrees outside. This morning, we have the furnace going. Go figure. It didn’t freeze though, so the tomatoes are safe…

One of the blessings of the morning is seeing the first blooms of the heirloom roses in our backyard. The roses in front are “knock-out” roses. They bloom regularly, even during the warm spells that Texas winters are famous for. Unlike heirloom (or real) roses, they lack any rose scent. That’s why the one in the back is so important to me. It smells like a rose should smell. Damn cross-breeding and gene splicing! The blooms remind me that Spring is here despite the cold north wind: a reality I really enjoy…

Yesterday was Margaret’s birthday. I won’t share her age, that’s her business to share. Today is my oldest son’s birthday. He’s still under forty so I don’t feel so bad about telling you he’s thirty-seven today. I’m extremely proud of my children, and especially proud of him. The night he was born is crystal clear in my mind, and the subsequent years have left moments indelibly stamped in my memory

All of this got me thinking about “choice”: the one’s we make actively and the ones we make by default. I spent many years trying to meet up to other people’s expectations, whether it be from my family, my friends, or my peers. I lived life by default: others made my decisions for me. When my disease of addiction progressed, it made all my decisions. It controlled every waking moment; where I went, what I did, and how I did it. When I came into recovery I had no difficulty understanding that I had no control, no ability to manage my own life, and totally powerless over my ability to make my own choices in life. Talk about as state of hopelessness…

I don’t normally share publicly about recovery. It’s not a matter of “look at me now”. I prefer the anonymity of the twelve-step program I attend regularly although I have no more shame attached to my past. I made a conscious choice to be open about my failures in the hope they could benefit someone else. That’s what the God of my understanding called me to do. Sometimes the best lessons in life are what not to do…

Recovery gave me hope. It gave me the ability to make choices and decisions of my own free will: an ability God gave all of us (and we often surrender just as freely). It also gave me a path to an interactive relationship with God. Although I grew up in a religious (and loving) household, I never knew such a relationship was possible. I had some pretty conventional misinformation about God as a judgmental, detached deity that set impossible expectations for piety and religious service: one that comes from human constructs rather than divine reality.

Recovery was much like what I imagined the first century church to be like, because I found people who, for the most part, love God, love and help each other, and have a lot of fun together. I found community. The deeper I stepped into community and my relationship with my “Higher Power”, the more I began to understand the “Good News” I’d heard about growing up. It wasn’t so “good” back then. Today it’s a reality in my life. That reality dictates my decision-making process.

What I know today is that people make choices and act on their beliefs. “Show me how you act, and I’ll tell you what you believe”. That won’t come as a surprise to some folks, but it was earth-shattering for me. My definition of common sense has changed. Piety no longer has a place in my life but respect for myself and others does. Trying to meet unreasonable man-made expectations has been replaced by simply doing the “next right thing”: taking care of whatever’s in front of me to the best of my ability. The Zen proverb, “chop wood, carry water” makes perfect sense today.

In many ways, I’ve been blessed to have a religious background. It taught me a great moral and ethical code. It taught me to be kind and concerned for “the least of these”. Unfortunately, it also taught me to fear the very God they said, “was love”. Talk about some mixed messages. It’s somewhat of an irony that I discovered my relationship with God among the very people I was told to stay away from, the “least of these”. Go figure…

I’m not perfect by any means! But I’m comfortable with that today. My choices are far less fear-driven – how do I fix it? – and much more trust-based – how do we fix it? Once I believed that God had my back, my choices and behavior began to change. That was “Good News” to me. Simplicity has replaced complexity and over-thinking the difficulties that inevitably show up in life. Isolation has been replaced by a sense of belonging, by a sense of community.

We celebrated Margaret’s birthday over dinner last night. The celebration’s really been going on all week. Our house has been full of friends and family and by God’s grace, we’re fully present to enjoy it all. Some of you know exactly what I mean when I say that, “just for today”, I’m going to enjoy life, my family, and friends. My actions aren’t dictated by falsehoods and pretentious piety, but by believing God loves us all…

Christianity, Recovery, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Just Folks…

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch: It’s kind of cold, not chilly, but cold on the porch this morning. It’s a reminder why the old folks say, “never plant tomatoes until after Easter”. Mine are going in today. The rest of the garden is green and growing. It may be cold this morning, but Spring has finally sprung here in Fort Worth.

I’ve had the honor to spend time with some fantastic people the last couple of weeks: some old friends and some new. Some of you know about the gathering this past weekend. In the spirit of anonymity, I’ll not share more, except for one little moment you might find humorous.

My son went with us this weekend. Following the meeting Saturday night, we sat out on the patio (the designated smoking area), laughing and spending time with old friends. He came up to me during a lull in the conversations and remarked, “This is such a weird group of people”. I prefer to call them eclectic, but he was right. All I could say was “yep”…

I love our old friends. We are a weird group of folks. We’re people who ordinarily wouldn’t mix and yet, there we were. I sat for a good while just watching my friends enjoy their evening with one another, pondering the picture in front of me. There was more diversity – racial, class, background, political views, sexual orientation, religious, non-religious… – than I certainly ever grew up with. There was a spirit of peace, serenity, friendship, and joy. It was kind of like church should be…

I’ve also been able to spend time with some new friends. We’ve met several times to discuss a shared vision of making our local community a better place, especially for the people who normally get overlooked. In turn, they’ve introduced me to more new people and reconnected me with some old contacts in the community activist arena. Experience has taught me that every time I begin to feel limited in the possibilities for a better, stronger community for ALL of us, God reminds me I’m not alone. I’ll write more about our shared goals and activities in the future.

In both instances, neither group is what I would consider religious by nature, but I imagine it’s more like the “kingdom of Heaven” than good religious folks would like to believe. In both instances, some individuals have ties to organized religion, but many don’t. The words “kingdom of Heaven” may not be the words they would use to describe what’s going on around them. They just seem to have a love for a Higher Power, whatever that is for them, and a love for others. I seem to remember hearing something similar from a guy named Jesus…

In both instances, personal piety isn’t what defines them but rather, how they serve others. One of the gentlemen I spoke to yesterday was sharing his vision for the future and then said he didn’t mean to sound so “lofty”. It didn’t sound “lofty” to me. It sounded more like God’s vision for His people, His creation…

As I sat on the porch this morning, I was once again extremely grateful for the people in my life today. I can’t think of a better bunch of folks – however weird we may be…