Category: Spirituality

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…

I haven’t been able to post “Thoughts” for the last few days. There were doctor appointments (which are more frequent these days), a roofing crew that scattered thoughts with every bang of the hammer (thank you for the great job, guys!), and the constant cleaning that comes with a couple of days of rain and three dogs (mopping should be once a week and not ten times a day…). So, my thoughts have been a bit scattered…

Yesterday was Easter Sunday. Margaret and I slept in this morning. The three days prior were extremely busy, and we had to recover. Late nights are better left to the younger folks. Anyway, we didn’t make church services this morning. I’m sure church buildings were full today. I appreciate that attendance for Easter services far exceeds any other Sunday. I guess second place goes to Christmas. I suppose two days a year is enough to cover one’s bases, ease guilty consciences, and carry on like before. Sometimes I hate my cynicism. I’m so glad you all taught me to see it for what it is…

I go back and forth about the whole organized religion thing. Sometimes I run away from it; sometimes I run toward it. I still consider myself a member of the church I attend although I rarely go in person. I like the online community now that my friend Rusty is the administrator for their online services. Plus, there are people there from around the country. It’s somewhat more diverse than our local congregation.

I know large churches do many good things for others. To their credit, the congregation of which I’m a member helps hundreds of people, many of them my neighbors, in a myriad of ways. They helped me through some rough times when I had health issues that limited my ability to work. I formed some great relationships there. I’m a firm believer in Jesus’ observation, “You’ll know who they are by the fruits they bear”.

I also know that the same church takes in millions (that right – 6 zeroes – I guess they qualify as a “mega-church”). While there’s some degree of transparency in their budget (which can’t be said among the bulk of “Mega-churches”), the reality is that they’re a business first and foremost, even though they strive to “make disciples”. Becoming “seeker-friendly” (I hate buzz-words) means increased tithing and donations. I would be foolish to think differently. The mission statement often takes second place to preservation of the institution. It seems an issue all organizations, churches and non-profits (faith-based or not) face. Sometimes the purpose gets muddied. They are human after all.

Still, I can only imagine what it’d be like if people really believed what Jesus said. Show me how you act, and I’ll tell you what you believe. My Dad used to say it was “a lot harder to walk the walk and not just talk the talk”. I get it. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to write-off things like “loving your enemies” and “turning the other cheek” to some promise of an after-life that can’t possibly work here and now.

When I first got into recovery I used to hear things like, “You can’t adapt your recovery program to your life; you have to adapt your life to recovery”. It was another way of saying “you can’t put “new wine into old wineskins”. If you do the wineskins burst; just like “you can’t graft a new idea into a closed mind”. Some of you know what I mean. The old ways haven’t worked…

So, I’ve discovered that my old ways of thinking don’t work for me anymore. What made sense before doesn’t; and what made absolutely no sense in the beginning has brought about incredible results. I have a new way to see the world I live in. That’s good news to me. I think it’s good news for everyone. We’re all in desperate need of “good news”; especially these days.

I often think of the tagline for “Red Letter Christians”, an organization started by Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo, “What if Jesus really meant what he said”. I can only imagine how differently we’d relate to one another. I can only imagine what the absence of fear would be like. I can only imagine how people would see the “Good News”; the idea that we’re a part of God’s dream for the world. I can only imagine people seeing Jesus’ followers living truly happy, joyous, and free; taking care of each other and the creation around them. I can only imagine a place where people are valued over things, where justice is combined with mercy, and the grace one receives is freely shared with everyone else.

I imagine these things and then I realize how much further down the path I wish I were. The real blessing is knowing I’m not alone on the path. I’ve been blessed by the relationships I have with other disciples on the way. Sadly, I’ve met most of them in places outside church buildings. They’re just folks like me who believe in a nonsensical way of living life. They do things like forming intentional communities to live out the “Good News” among people left behind in a world of ego, power, and rampant consumerism. They do things like building a garden in the midst of urban blight, inviting their neighbors to feast together and share in their joy. They do things like loving God and loving their neighbor; an everyone’s their neighbor. They choose to live as disciples, as living students of the risen Jesus, and what was once common sense has become “uncommon sense”.

Today is Easter, resurrection Sunday. I’m kind of glad I wasn’t at church this morning, but on the porch instead. There’s a holiness here I’ve been blessed to experience and I get to go on with the day refreshed, knowing that everything is new…

:  I actually had to put on a hoodie this morning. Although the bulk of the rain is heading east, it’s still cool and overcast here in Fort Worth this morning. I don’t know if there’s any scientific proof to support this, but the coffee tastes better on days like this.

I was thinking about my brother Craig this morning. Craig and I were roommates for several years. I had a brain hemorrhage a few years back. The doctors told me I couldn’t work until the surgery to be done several months later. Consequently, I had to let my house go into foreclosure. Craig offered his place for a couple of weeks. I left six years later…

I always tell people that I had to wait until I was in my fifties to get a brother. Craig was, and is, more than my former roommate. In the time I shared his home I grew more spiritually. I firmly believe God brought us together for that very reason. Although I’m happily married today, I miss all the mornings in the wood shop, drinking coffee, praying, and sharing our faith with one another. We don’t get to do that enough…

Craig is an amazing craftsman in his wood shop. He made a beautiful pipe from an old oak burl for me. It’s truly amazing. It smokes smoothly and is thoroughly enjoyable after a good evening meal. What I really like about though is the note that came with it. It’s taped above my keyboard, so I see it regularly. It simply says, “Like David and Jonathan, you are my best friend. This pipe is a token of my love for you. Enjoy it my friend!”. I do my brother…

Our friendship started me thinking about the broader community I’m blessed to be a part of today. I share life today with many people. I never thought it would be possible. I’m basically shy and introverted. I don’t do well in groups, but I thrive in community. I discovered that when I got into recovery. It offered me the first introduction to living in community. I’ve made it a practice to be involved in that community; because even community takes practice.

When I was growing up, my social ineptitude made life difficult outside the community of my parent’s friends and their kids. When we moved away for my Dad’s job I felt isolated and uncomfortable. That feeling plagued me for years. I tried many ways to make my world fit, especially at “church”, but I couldn’t live up to their standards of conduct and piety. I was so relieved when I found recovery. It was quite refreshing to hear “God” and “mother****” in the same sentence. It was even better that I was accepted for me, imperfections and all.

Recovery helped rekindle my faith in the God of my understanding: it emphasized an interactive relationship with that God. If I nurtured that relationship my life would be transformed. I’ve experienced transformation today. I fit in: not just into recovery, but to society at large. If you’ve ever been on the “outside looking in”, you know what I mean.

I had many misconceptions about what “community” really meant. I had this crazy idea it required a type of separation from society (I am a child of the sixties!) and communal living. I viewed everything as either “in” or “out” (probably from growing up in a fundamentalist Christian home – they’re a pretty exclusive bunch…). Entering in to a relationship with a Higher Power, with God, exposed those misconceptions.

I began to hear, and listen, to the “Good News”. I’d always heard how it was about God wanting to “save me” at some future date but I had to be righteous (or more like “self-righteous”) and work real hard to get there. It never sounded that “good” to me. I began to hear all these years later that it isn’t about some far-off “eternal” life. It’s about the Kingdom, the “community” of Heaven, that’s available to me now. Now that’s good news, that’s transforming…

I’m going to be writing more about community, more about that “kingdom” I’ve found over the coming days. It keeps popping in to my head a lot these days. I’m so grateful to be a part of this community and I’d love to hear your thoughts as well.