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.
Down on the Farm: August is a busy
month at Opal’s Farm. The Texas summer reaches its apex in August and the
Spring garden crops are beginning to peter out. The summer squashes have about
run their course and the purple-hulled and black-eye peas are slowing in the
heat. We’ve been extremely blessed this year to have only had seven one
hundred-degree days. The average number by this time of year is eighteen. We’re
very careful in the heat: slow down, drink lots of water, and take more
frequent breaks in the shade of our only tree. When the “feels like”
temperature is in the triple digits it’s better to be safe than sorry. Heat
stroke is no joke!
The high temperatures haven’t
deterred our volunteers. A huge shout out to Harrison, Chuck,
Becca, and of course, Brendan for helping with harvesting and helping plant the
new Fall crops. As we transition to our fall planting there are beds to be
cleaned out, prepared, and seeded with all the great veggies that come in the
Fall. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love and appreciate our
volunteers and fellow “farmers”.
That’s why it’s difficult to write
today’s blog post. Many of you know one of our volunteers (and my trusted
assistant), Brendan O’Connell. Brendan has been with Opal’s Farm since we began
building the first beds and planting the first seeds. Not only has he put
countless hours of physical labor into the farm, he’s also shared ideas and
opened doors that have made our first growing season a success.
When Brendan contacted me about volunteering back in March, I had no idea how important he would become to Opal’s Farm or how much I would come to value his input, appreciate his hard work, and depend on him. For the first four months, it was Brendan who was right in the thick of things whether it was plowing, planting, or marketing.
Our First Cowtown Farmer’s Market
One day he mentioned one day that his school needed a title or job description for his volunteer work at the farm. He wasn’t sure what to put down on the paperwork, and quite honestly, neither was I. “Farmhand” was an understatement. He was far more than another hand. I wasn’t sure what to tell him. Until it dawned on me: he was the farm co-manager! It would be unfair to call him anything else. His sense of commitment and dedication to the mission of Opal’s Farm is indescribable.
Couldn’t have done it without Brendan – getting ready for our first crop!
Unfortunately, I knew his time would
come to an end. You see, Brendan leaves next week for the next step in his life
at Cornell University. He’ll be stopping by Cowtown Farmer’s Market briefly on
Saturday and leaving Tuesday. It’s a bittersweet moment for those of us who’ve
come to know Brendan over the last few months. We are extremely happy (and a
bit proud) for him and his new adventure, but it’s hard to see him leave (even
if we do get to see him at winter break).
Part of me is jealous, Brendan. For
those of you who don’t know, Cornell is in Ithaca, New York. Although Brendan
will be studying hard, he’ll be enjoying much cooler weather than those of us
here at the farm! Moreover, Ithaca has an actual Fall season and with it, the
accompanying explosion of color that will awe any good old Fort Worth native.
Winter will be a bit different from Fort Worth (what’s that white stuff called again?), but I’m happy to hear you bought your winter coat online rather than here. There’s not much of a market here for the kind of coats one you’ll need in New York…
Brendan, thank you for everything you’ve done for Opal’s Farm and thank you Mr. and Mrs. O’Connell for sharing your son with us. God’s blessings upon you all. We wish you adventure, happiness, and success in the coming school year. We look forward to seeing you this winter but please know you will be missed and thought of often.
Thoughts
From the Porch: We sold out early at the farmer’s market Saturday.
We sold much of the week’s harvest on Wednesday, so we were a bit light for
Saturday’s market. Our normal crowd was a bit smaller due to the rainy morning.
Even a few of our farmers took the day off for other pursuits. Hopefully,
everyone enjoyed a much-needed break from summer chores. I know I did.
Our friends Melvin and Janice called Friday night to invite us up to Lake Murray for a camping weekend. It was a perfect Saturday morning to leave market early and head to Oklahoma. Cell service is almost non-existent there. Spending a couple of days unplugged from everything is a periodic necessity. A couple of days in a quiet campsite with good friends is just what the doctor ordered!
Life is full of small pleasures. My Sunday morning meeting was covered by someone else, so I slept in for a change. Upon awakening I made the coffee and headed for some serious porch time. I made the mistake of checking out my CNN app and discovered twenty-nine people had been killed in two mass shootings just hours apart: one in El Paso and the other in Dayton, Ohio. It was difficult to separate the horror and sadness I experienced from the rising fury toward the hatefulness of the crimes.
I wanted to write
about it but growing older (and hopefully wiser) has allowed me to hit the
pause button on such occasions lest I speak or write out of anger. I tend to
say things I later regret or that are misunderstood. It makes apologies and
amends to others for my emotional outburst extremely difficult. So, I’ve mulled
this over for the last couple of days before sharing my thoughts.
Same
story, different day…
The storyline has become all-to familiar. Another mass
shooting. The news covers all the vigils held to honor the dead. Finding
relatives of the fallen or hospital room interviews with survivors are a
ratings bonanza. There’s an outcry against gun violence. Politicians and
political pundits from both sides of the aisle pontificate on how to prevent
this from happening again, just as they did the last time and the time before
that. What happened Sunday will happen again today, tomorrow, and so it goes.
According to data collected by the non-profit organization,
Gun Violence Archive, (as of August 4th, 2019) a mass shooting is
defined as “an event where at least four people, not including the gunman, were
shot”. By this definition, there have been 292 mass shootings in last 219 days
of this year alone. I’m no math wizard but according to my calculations, that’s
1.3 mass shootings a day.
We simply don’t hear about most of them. It seems only a
large body count is newsworthy. Maybe we’ve become numb to “average” shootings.
Many occur in communities most folks ignore anyway. Sadly, if this weekend’s
events are like previous mass shootings, the media will play with the story for
a few days until another ratings booster comes along…
Words can
kill just like bullets
The FBI is unsure as to the motive of the Dayton shooter, but are treating the El Paso event as an act of domestic terrorism based on white supremacy. The shooter’s motives were clear so he several hundred miles to carry out a planned attack on immigrants because of the “Hispanic invasion of Texas”.
The “Hispanic invasion”. “Those people”. “Go back where you came from”. All words and phrases coming from the highest office in the land. All words that spark hate, division, and most of all, fear. When asked what we can do about the problem with those people, someone shouted, “shoot them” and everyone present laughed. Except for one 21-year-old from North Texas. He took those words literally…
I don’t know what to do about gun control, red flag laws, or mental health issues and gun violence. I don’t know if the present occupant of the White House will change his words, but maybe we should hold him accountable for those words. Words kill. They accounted for at least 22 of the deaths this weekend. Hateful words, attitudes, and divisiveness pulled the trigger as much as the gunman did. Donald Trump is as complicit in the El Paso shooting as the gunman.
What I do know is to counter hateful words and actions with
love and grace, despite my anger and sadness. The grace shown to me by a loving
Abba will guide my actions. I’ll not allow hate and division to interfere with
loving and uniting others, especially “the others”.
What I know for certain is, “The only thing necessary for the
triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”―Edmund Burke(in a letter addressed
to Thomas Mercer).I
won’t be quiet, nor will I sit still.
Thoughts From the Porch: I’m posting this on my business
website as well as the Opal’s Farm Facebook Page. Please bear with me as it has
a bit more to do with Opal’s Farm than just produce. It’s a personal note on
what the farm and working for Unity Unlimited, Inc. has meant to me for the
last year.
It’s been two weeks of running! Harvest is coming in at Opal’s Farm. Saturday was the big celebration at TCC South campus with the parade, the entertainment, and seminars and activities all day long. One of our partners and sponsors, the Tarrant Area Food Bank, gave away a semi-trailer full of food to the community.
Fort Worth Juneteenth Parade 2019
The Juneteenth events over the last ten days will
culminate with “Juneteenth: The Play” at Will rogers Auditorium tomorrow
evening. Tickets are still available, and proceeds benefit Opal’s Farm. Go
to Opal’s Farm Facebook page or to www.juneteenthftw.com
for details and tickets. It will be a delightful, entertaining, and educational
evening. Most of you know that the Fort Worth Juneteenth celebrations are a
huge part of what our parent non-profit organization, Unity Unlimited, Inc.
does each year.
For those of you who have no idea what Juneteenth is…
“Juneteeth is the oldest known celebration commemorating the ending of slavery in the United States. Dating back to 1865, it was on June 19th that the Union soldiers, led by Major General Gordon Granger, landed at Galveston, Texas with news that the war had ended and that the enslaved were now free. Note that this was two and a half years after President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation – which had become official January 1, 1863. The Emancipation Proclamation had little impact on the Texans due to the minimal number of Union troops to enforce the new Executive Order. However, with the surrender of General Lee in April of 1865, and the arrival of General Granger’s regiment, the forces were finally strong enough to influence and overcome the resistance.” www.juneteenthftw.com
Just a part of the Tarrant Area Food Bank’s Juneteenth contribution A semi-load of free food for the community
Some Back Story…
One of my favorite authors is Donald Miller. My minister
friend, Rusty, had mentioned him in passing one time. I was browsing through
the bookstore and came upon Miller’s book, “Blue Like Jazz”. After
reading the author’s note at the beginning I bought a copy. I read it through
in a couple of sittings the first time. I read it much slower a couple of times
after that. I found someone who vocalized much of my spiritual walk; things I
always wanted to say and simply could not find a way to do so. I think I own
the whole Donald Miller catalogue these days…
In “Blue Like Jazz”, Miller tells the story of a
“confession booth” he and his friends built at Reed College. A Google search of
Reed College will say three main things about the school. First, is its
academic reputation as one of the best liberal arts schools in the nation.
Second, its liberal political reputation. Third, its permissive policy toward open
drug use and parties. Long story short – it doesn’t harbor a large “Christian”
student population. Intellectual pursuits (and a bit of drug-induced fun) are
often at odds with religious belief.
Miller and a few of his like-minded followers of Jesus had
an idea: set up a “confession booth”, not to take confessions but offer them as
evidence of Christianity’s failings and crimes against humanity – things like
the Crusades, slavery, and Native American genocide. I won’t bore you with the
details (you really should read the book!), but I’ve always loved the idea.
Maybe if much of Christianity was honest enough to admit they’ve screwed up
horribly, genuinely attempt to make amends, then they might have some real good
news to share. (Disclaimer: The
Christian “right” doesn’t speak for many followers of the Rabbi) Just saying…
I mention it because I’ve thought a lot about confession
this morning. In the Twelve Step tradition, introspection, ownership of one’s
actions (good or bad), and admission (confession if you will) to God and
another human being are essential to grow spiritually. Spiritual growth and
building a solid relationship with a Higher Power are essential to recovery.
Moreover, confession allows us to make amends, or make things right, so forgiveness
and recovery (and in this instance, community) can take place. It’s essential
to recovery, our spirit, and the humility that’s as critical as food and water
are to the body.
My work with Unity Unlimited, Inc, Opal’s Farm, and Ms.
Opal herself has led to deep introspection over the last year. I haven’t always
liked what I’ve seen. I’m acutely aware of how old tapes play in my head. I’ve
also learned the value of listening. My Dad used to tell me that I was given
one mouth and two ears so I could listen twice as much as I speak. I must confess
I don’t do that well.
Please forgive my unwillingness to truly listen. Today I
will listen and be a friend and an ally. I’ll seek to learn from other’s
struggles so that I too can walk the path toward freedom. Fannie Lou Hamer once
said that none of us are free until all of us are free. I guess that’s why the
last week of Juneteenth celebrations have affected so deeply. When I fail to
listen, I rob myself of the chance for emancipation from old ideas and blind
myself to new possibilities.
I believe in the old saying that “confession is good for the soul”. I look forward to taking our walk together.
Thanks to our partner for Opal’s Far – the Tarrant Regional Water District!
Yesterday was an amazing (and extremely lo-o-o-ng day). We worked at the Juneteenth celebration at TCC South campus. A huge thank you to Tarrant Area Food Bank. They were there early in the morning unloading a semi-trailer full of food – apples, oranges, potatoes, lettuce, milk, and so forth (all wonderful, healthy stuff!) – to be handed out to the people celebrating Juneteenth! By eight o’clock yesterday evening we had given away what seemed liked endless pallets of food…
Opal’s Farm was there too. We had fresh squash and green beans. We had seeds, cups, and organic potting soil so the kids could plant their very own herbs. We instructed them on taking care of the plants and how to use them as seasonings for the food at home. All in all, in was a fantastic day.
I was tired this morning and overslept. I had to jump in the shower and run to the great meeting we have each Sunday. I was only able to get half a cup of coffee down before running out the door. Needless to say, I came home convinced I needed to go back to bed. I decided to brew a pot instead and after three cups of coffee I’m wide awake and grateful for another Father’s Day.
I thought of my sons and called them both. I wished my younger one a happy Father’s Day vis voicemail. He’s filled my life with four of our five grandchildren. My older one isn’t a father yet but I needed to tell him how blessed my life has been because he came into it.
I was scrolling through two days of email when I came across his social media post. His profile pic had changed to one of he and I at Texas Motor Speedway for the Spring NASCAR race. It may sound silly, but I was overcome with emotion when I saw it. Tears streamed down my face (my friend Edgar says I get to cry like a man today…)
You see, I was a single father and not a great one at that. Addiction has a way of interfering with good intentions. It caused a lot of harm and scars, but the good news is years of recovery have healed the relationship I have with my boys today. Despite me and because of my later recovery my boys have grown into fine men.
I got myself together and called my older son, Adrian, to let him know what a precious gift his post was on this Father’s Day. He was on his way home from church. He told me the pastor spoke of the Prodigal Son today. I had to laugh at the timing. I’m acutely aware of and grateful for a Father that loves no matter how far I strayed from His presence. I was reminded the parable could easily be called “the Prodigal Father”, because of the relationship I have with my sons today. Grace is amazing…
I don’t have a lot of time to write today. You see, I get to spend time with a loving God and because of Him, a loving family. At some point today I’ll be at the cemetery to wish my father a Happy Father’s Day and to tell him how much I love and miss him. I wish the same for you all. Have a blessed and Happy Father’s Day!
gregoryjoel.com 