Category: Recovery

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Brain Worms

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch:

Do you ever get brain worms? You know, those pesky little musical ditties that play over and over in your head. No matter what you’re doing the song or musical rift won’t go away. In fact, the more you try to think of something else the more persistent the song becomes. Sometimes they’re simply the last song you hear on the radio and other times it comes out of nowhere. Sometimes they come from the most unlikely sources.

Let me explain…

After an early freeze it’s been a string of beautiful Fall days here in North Texas. The sun was bright, trees have turned to true Fall colors, and the birds celebrate the morning in song. The coffee was fuller in flavor and I relished in the November morning in shorts and a t-shirt. Truly a blessed morning…

I was reading about Jesus’ first recorded miracle at a marriage feast in Cana: turning the water into wine. About halfway through I started humming a Kevin Fowler song, “The Lord Loves a Drinking Man”. Honestly, it isn’t the most spiritual thing to pop up during my prayer and meditation time. Click on the link and you’ll see what I mean.

Jesus turned the water to wine and “any man who can do that is a good friend of mine”. Yep…

Changing Water into Wine

John’s retelling of the miracle at Cana offers a brief glimpse into his kingdom. He says time and time again the kingdom of God is like a wedding feast and the Jews in Palestine knew how to throw a wedding feast. Family and friends came together from all over the region. The finest food was prepared, and the best wine was brought out first. The party was going to go on for a while so serve the best wine first and “after the guests have had their fill bring in the cheap stuff.” John 2.10 (The Message).

It was a big deal. Scholars say their wedding parties lasted for days. I got a taste of this when I was a groomsman in an Irish Catholic wedding. The reception was in the Coors Brewery Workers Union Hall if that offers you a clue. They prefer Irish whiskey to wine and that’s probably a story for another time, but I digress…

I’d like to think that God’s kingdom is a big celebration. The idea of sitting around singing angelic hymns for eternity sounds a bit boring. God’s kingdom is one of love, joy, and a heck-u-va party. I can’t think of anything better to celebrate.

Wine into Water

Ironically, for people like me Jesus seemed to have worked His miracle in reverse. He changed the wine into water. For me this is the most amazing miracle of all. Trapped in a swirling whirlpool of cheap wine (among other things) and total self-obsession, He lifted me to a life I never dreamed possible. He invited me into the feast (an analogy He uses often). I know longer settle for scraps of life. I have a seat at Abba’s table: and what a party it is.

I can only imagine that if this party is so good now, then how much more so will the big feast be?

I’m unbelievably thrilled and amazed at just how much He loved this drinking (among other things!) man. I’m happy His miracles aren’t contingent on my false piety and spiritual correctness; that His love is unconditional. He always works the right miracle whether it’s wine into water, or water into wine. Whatever you’re drinking, come on in and join the feast…

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Aging, Culture, Dogs, Emotional Health, Growing Up, Pet Health, Pets, Recovery, Rescue Animals, Responsibility, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do, Writing

Dogs Don’t Just Eat Homework

gregoryjoel

I have no idea why this posted as “Auto Draft” but here’s the real headline…

Thoughts From the Porch: Last night filled with great music, hot coffee, and a chance to check the emails filling my inbox from the last few days. It may not be most folk’s idea of a great Saturday night but it’s fine by me. To sit and get caught up, especially in air-conditioned comfort, is a golden opportunity indeed.

I get a LOT of emails. Most get a quick scan and deleted but there are a few newsletters I read religiously. Pet MD sent their weekly update. Anything benefitting our fur babies is of utmost importance. We strive to be the best pet parents possible and always look for helpful tips to keep our pets in good health.

As a writer of content and copy I know the value of a great headline. This week’s Pet MD had one of the best I’ve seen – “What Should I Do If My Dog Ate Weed?” It got my attention right away. I’m not sure I would’ve been asking that question publicly. I did notice that it said weed and not “my” weed. You know, just in case…

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To be honest, I never thought of asking that question, but apparently, marijuana toxicity in dogs is on the rise; especially in states where it is now legal. Although I no longer indulge in THC (I’m in recovery, not judging), I imagine I would be mildly pissed if my dog ate my weed. From what I understand, the dime bag is a thing of the past…

How do you know if your dog ate your weed? According to PET MD, “Clinical signs include:

  • Incoordination
  • Sensitivity to loud noises
  • Low heart rate
  • Dribbling urine
  • Dilation of the pupils
  • Low or high body temperature”

I would personally add to the list empty packages of Oreo cookies and Hostess Twinkies scattered about the house, a lack of motivation to chase the squirrel ten feet away, and an abnormal fascination with the television. Just saying…

During my younger and far more foolish years I had a Golden Retriever who once ate half a pan of THC-infused brownies (where they came from, I’ll never tell!). Had I known the potential for life-threatening illness I might not have had such a good laugh (after my initial anger over the lost and somewhat expensive brownies, of course). The THC made her quite content to lay on the edge of the porch and watch the cars pass by. I assume she enjoyed the rest of her evening. I know I did.

If I’d known then, what I know now…

Fortunately, my dog survived her momentary intoxication without any ill effects. In fact, she slept it off until the next afternoon. However, I did notice she was unusually attentive to the sound of storage baggies opening. Had I known about weed toxicity back then I might have been a bit worried, but all’s well that ends well…

The take-away from all this is don’t get your dog high, no matter how much they enjoy it, either intentionally or unintentionally. It’s not good for them. Store your weed (and your cookies) out of reach. Keep your weed and your pet safe and secure.

Have a great weekend my friends…

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Happy Birthday and Thank You…

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch: I slept in an extra hour this morning. You see, I turned sixty-one years old at about 2:58 AM. Happy Birthday to me, right? It had more to do with my body feeling my age rather than any secret celebration. It’s been brutally hot for the last couple of weeks. It simply caught up with me last night. Such is life…

I’m unsure of whether it was the oppressive heat or completing another trip around the sun that made me a bit reflective this week. I’m not where I thought I’d be, but I am right where I’m supposed to be.

I never thought I’d be farming in triple digit temperatures in my sixties. My goals were much different in my youth. But life has come full circle. Dreams have come true in ways I never imagined. My friend Charlie says I’ve found my ikagi: my reason for being and the thing for which I get up for in the morning.

I was born on the tail end of the Baby Boomer generation. The sixties, and unfortunately, the seventies and eighties, shaped much of my perception about success. I wanted to change the world when I was in college. Idealism isn’t all that unique for college-age. However, idealism doesn’t make one wealthy and that’s what everyone else deemed success. So, I traded idealism for pragmatism and chased whatever I thought was pleasing to others. I got lost somewhere along the way.

I won’t bore you with the details. I will tell you I was in my fifties before life ever began to make sense. That’s only because God began to make sense. Not the judgmental, punishing God of my youth, but a loving, forgiving God: one whom I could trust to have my back. The relationship I have with God today is the foundation for the life I get to live. It’s changed my perceptions and made me whole.

If the metric for success is salary, celebrity, or how many followers one has on social media, then I surely missed the mark. If, on the other hand, it’s about doing what you love and the people in one’s life, then I am rich beyond measure. I get up in the morning and know the day is a success even when it doesn’t feel like it, and it doesn’t at times. I’m still responsible for the bills. There’s usually more month than money…). I rarely understand how we make another month financially…

That being said, I trust God will take care of us even when I can’t possibly see how it’s going to be done. I show up, plant seeds, and water what comes up. It’s like that at Opal’s Farm. It’s like that in my life. I’m always surprised by the harvest.

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Thank You, Thank You, Thank You…

gregoryjoel

Thoughts From the Porch: I’m told the best way to blog is to post something regularly and preferably, on a scheduled basis. Unfortunately, I’ve failed to live up to that standard this month. I was looking back over my July posts and realized this is only my third one so far.

Opal’s Farm is booming. Fall planting is underway and we’ve been blessed by all the volunteers helping us harvest and get our irrigation going. Our Saturday sales at the Cowtown Farmer’s Market seem to increase each week we’re there. We’re in the process of looking at a new partnership with a couple of local restaurants and non-profits that will serve a broader community. Things are moving in the right direction.

Unfortunately, the flurry of activity at Opal’s Farm has limited my writing time. I still have my moments on the porch; my quiet time with God and my beautiful wife. Porch time sets the tone for the rest of the day. It’s as necessary to well-being as food and water are to physical life. Quiet time in the morning refreshes my body, my mind, and most of all, my spirit. I’m better able to greet the day’s business with gratitude and grace.

Most days there’s no time for writing on in the morning unless it’s business. I come back from the farm with every intention to sit down and write, but evenings have their own struggles – fix dinner, do dishes, respond to messages and emails. On top of that there’s the long day in the Texas heat. Some evenings I forget dinner, drop the work clothes, and lay down in front of the air conditioner until the next morning. If you work outdoors in Texas, then you know what I mean.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t have much to say this morning. One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, says that her prayers fall into two simple categories – “Help me, help me, help me” or “Thank you, thank you, thank you”. I get it. Lately my prayers have been of the “thank you, thank you, thank you” variety. I have little to say other than thank you. If I were to make a list of all I’m grateful for it would fill a legal pad and then some. I shan’t bore you, gentle reader, with my list…

Most days, as of late, are filled with quiet gratitude for the grace I’ve been given. I can’t believe I get to live the life I live today. I get to do the very things which were the desire of my heart all along. I work with amazing people working toward a godly, incredible mission. I spend my days “playing in the dirt”: a constant reminder of stewardship and Jesus’ parables. When I come home at night, I enjoy time with my wife and drift off into a solid sleep, ready to “rinse and repeat” another day.

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I simply needed to touch base with you all before heading to the farm for another day. Have a super Friday and a wonderful weekend! See you soon…

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