It’s finally February. It usually isn’t my favorite month because, though it’s the shortest month, it usually feels like the longest. That’s not the case this year. January seemed like it would never end – the constant barrage of bad news wore me down. It started with military intervention in Venezuela, the alienation of our allies and friends (we’re not all crazy Greenland), and ended with two murders of US citizens by our own government. Come on, February. Maybe being the shortest month means less assaults on our collective souls. One can only hope…
Tomorrow, the second of February, is Groundhog Day. Personally, I always get confused as to why a small, adorable rodent has so much power of weather forecasting based on whether he sees his shadow or not. I do, however, find the movie “Groundhog Day” one of my favorite films of all time. The idea that one gets “do-overs” until they get it right sums up what grace has come to mean in my life. I don’t get to go back and change the past, but I do have the opportunity every day to create a better me. That’s all because of grace.
I’d always heard that term “grace” growing up, but in a fundamentalist Christian home it tended to be more an abstract spiritual ideal rather than a physical reality. One could always “fall from grace”. God was kind of fickle, judgmental, and got pissed off easy, you know, and I was spiritually clumsy, falling a lot! After a while, I’d fallen so many times that I just decided to stay down and wallowed there for many years.
I won’t bore you with the details, but to suffice it to say that I found myself in rehabs and twelve-step programs many times over the years. It wasn’t until one day in December 2005 that I finally said, “God help me” and really meant it. I simply gave it all to him. I surrendered and really didn’t care what he did with me. Even death was preferable to the existence I was living.
To make a long story short…
That was my “Groundhog Day”. I didn’t get “do-overs”, but I did get to go back to those I had harmed and make amends – make things right to the best of my ability and live differently. In fact, every day since then has been Groundhog Day. I wake up each morning with the opportunity to make the future better for me and my community. It’s all because of grace – grace that’s real, not an abstract theological term. I guess in that sense it is a “do over” because I start each day with a clean slate. I can let go of a past full of doubt and live securely in the day I’ve been given.
I’m not perfect by any means. I try to walk in faith, loving God, and “loving my neighbor as myself. Thank God for grace and another Groundhog Day…
The arctic front has made its way east and we’re slowly rebounding from last weekend’s ice storm. I still can’t get much done at the farm, so I’ve been working from home the last few days. I’ve been blessed to have quiet meditation time in the morning, unhurried by the usual morning rituals that precede a workday at the farm.
Given the atrocities happening in Minnesota and the constant cruelty and hate coming from our nation’s capital, I’ve found myself reading the Book of Isaiah this morning. The prophets remind me that religious nationalism, authoritarian regimes, corruption, and abusive power have always plagued societies long before us. History and the prophets tell me we’ve been through this before. They also remind me that there’s a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel – that evil doesn’t prevail. I must hang on to that. Otherwise, hopelessness rears its ugly head.
This morning, I found a gem in Isaiah 33.15 (in The Message Bible) that offers me hope for today.
“The answer’s simple:
Live right,
Speak the truth,
despise exploitation,
refuse bribes,
reject violence,
avoid evil amusements.
I also find hope in the people of Minneapolis who have braved sub-zero weather to “speak the truth, despise exploitation”, and look out for their neighbors in the face of terrible atrocities carried out by ICE and the current administration. They’ve refused bribes (“we’ll leave if you give us your voter rolls” -another ploy to fix the next election). They’ve rejected violence, answering violence with peaceful protest. Unlike the ICE agents who celebrated the lynching of Alex Pretti (watch the video) or the constant laughing at another’s pain, they’ve rejected such evil amusements.
I needed the reminder today that no matter how I feel (does “really pissed off”, hurt and grieving resonate with you?), I can heed Isaiah’s words. There is hope. Jesus even made clearer by reminding me that loving God and loving others takes care of everything else. It enables me to “speak the truth, despise exploitation, refuse bribes, reject violence, avoid evil amusements” too…
My first year at Opal’s Farm was interesting to say the least. I’d never farmed. I’d had lots of experience with community gardens, but I had never farmed. I only had a few hand tools and a BCS two-wheeled tractor, a wide-open space to use it, and I was the only laborer to do so. There was no money in the farm account and even what little seed we had was donated. That also meant I didn’t get paid unless some grant money came through or we had a huge harvest – neither of which appeared to be happening soon.
Fortunately, I had a great mentor come into my life, Charlie Blaylock, who owned Shines Farmstand, guided me through the process of becoming a farmer. A month into the project I received help from our first volunteer, Brendan, who stayed with me every day through that first growing season. He put that BCS tractor to work. Although our first growing season met with some moderate success it was nowhere near enough to get paid so I went without a paycheck for the first year.
I believed in the farm. My wife and I had a very small savings account to draw on, and although it wasn’t near enough to pay all the bills, I went to work each day. The money finally ran out in October, and I was so worried and stressed out to the point that I came home and told Margaret that I was going to have to go work elsewhere. My wife, who is one of the most spiritual and faithful people I know, looked at me and said, “Greg, we prayed for a long time about this, and I know this is where God wants you to be. Give it another month before you decide what to do”.
I exclaimed, “Baby, we’ll lose the house if we can’t make the mortgage payment!”
She smiled and simply said, “We had a roof over our heads when we moved in didn’t we?” Needless to say, I’m still there seven years later and the farm is thriving.
You see, I received a call from our Executive Director at eight o’clock the following morning. She told me we’d received a grant from Visit Fort Worth, and she’d have a check for me later that day. I called my wife and told her the great news and stopped to have a little conversation with God. “God, I’m stubborn and thickheaded. I know you told me not to worry about things like that. You have my back. It’s all yours from now on. I’m just going to do the work you gave me each day and you take care of the rest.”
I’ve told this story many times over the last seven years. I’ve even had to remind myself several times this year when funding cuts led to staff layoffs and irregular paychecks. Texas Health Community Hope and the Conservation and Environment Fund at North Texas Community Foundation stepped up to help us in enormous ways to continue the great work at Opal’s Farm.
I’d like to say that my life is free of worry, but that would be a lie. I just worry less about myself and more about others. It seems there’s a lot to worry about these days with all the chaos, hatred, and harm being directed at folks, but doing what I can to ease another’s burden, especially in food justice and serving the marginalized communities around us, there’s less worry and more action.
I don’t worry (well, most of the time anyway…) about results and just do the work. I also remember I spent way too much of life worrying about things that just didn’t matter. I have “enough” and life’s pretty damn good.
From another patron saint of Texas music and one of Fort Worth’s favorite sons – Delbert McClinton along with the great Francine Reed.
“There are two ways to get enough: one is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.” – G. K. Chesterton
“We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.” – Winston Churchill
“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seed you plant.” – Robert Louis Stevenson
“The world says, the more you take, the more you have. Christ says, the more you give, the more you are.” — Frederick Buechner
I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday. We had a wonderful day with food, family, and Dallas Cowboys football, I normally have a little anxiety around family gatherings being the introvert that I am. My social battery tends to run low after a couple of hours, but this year it lasted from around two in the afternoon until after ten o’clock in the evening. I normally am worn out after being around people, even loved ones for so long. This year was different. I was tired, but happy to have spent our time together. Something special happened this year that been somewhat absent in the past.
One of my wife’s family traditions is to take time between Thanksgiving dinner and dessert to read a passage of scripture and go around the table and have each person tell what they are grateful for. I won’t go into details except to tell you that each of us found deeper appreciation for each other and the grace we’ve been given. This year the passage was from I Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live” (The Message Bible). Good advice to everyone no matter what their faith I’d say.
No matter what happens. Most of us find it easy to be grateful when things are going well for us. It’s equally easy to take the good times for granted, but we’re going to focus on gratitude only here. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines gratitude as: “Gratitude noun – the state of being grateful.” When everything seems to be okay – the rent’s paid, there’s food on the table, we can afford a nice vacation or a new car – it’s easy to have a grateful state of mind, but what happens when tragedy strikes – the death of a loved one, unemployment, financial fear, the old car breaks down – and everything and everyone seems to be against us.
My youngest son, Jeremy, died in May of 2020. Let me be clear, I am not grateful for his death. It’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced. Parents who have lost a child know what I mean. The grief feels insurmountable and honestly, I don’t think it ever goes away. I still have moments when a song is played, I glance at one of his paintings, or my grandkids talk about how much they miss him when the sadness burst into my day and I feel as emotionally raw as the day I received the phone that he was gone. It’s a constant reminder of loss. It feels sacrilegious, or even hateful, to find gratitude in such a thing.
However, there’s immense gratitude for what happened after Jeremy died. God had placed all the people in my life that would help me walk through this tragedy. My friend and sponsor, Edgar, had lost his own son some twenty-two years earlier. He was the second person I called (the first was my wife) as I drove to my oldest granddaughter’s house to tell her the news. Over the following months he answered every phone call and walked me through the pain. He had been there before. He shared my pain and gave of himself to offer healing and hope during a dark time.
Moreover, two of our friend’s circle lost their sons as well, one to an opiate overdose like Jeremy. I could share with him the little experience I had. Helping others helps me. We were all there for one another – something I will be eternally grateful for.
Most recently, this last year has been one I don’t wish to repeat for a myriad of reasons. Funding cuts began in January. I had to lay off my staff. My paychecks were few and far between causing huge financial difficulty for both the farm and our personal finances.
In April, I blew my left knee out. Subsequent doctor appointments revealed that both knees were now bone on bone, a knee replacement was my last option, and pain became a daily issue. The farmers markets have been much slower, a reflection of a weakening economy, and sales have been down. In October, my Volunteer Coordinator quit suddenly with no explanation. After five years she had become a friend, and her loss was hurtful. I now had to give up Saturday morning markets to be there for volunteers already on the schedule. To make matters worse, my planned knee surgery fell through and it would be next November before I could again take time off for recovery. There were more than a few dark days for me. Why would anyone find gratitude in such a year?
I scaled back, took on only what I could handle, and we’ve had more volunteer groups than in past years. What wasn’t sold was donated to some great local organizations and we’ve still managed to keep moving forward. We still yielded produce totals like the year before with less land and labor. Funding has increased (we’re a non-profit farm) and new market opportunities have arisen to help us better meet our mission of improving food access for our neighbors. We saw new grants relieve the payroll anxiety thanks to Texas Health Community Hope and the North Texas Communities Foundation (more on that to come this week!) we are greeting the new year on a firm footing.
I’ve been able to let go of the hurt (it’s taken awhile) and disruption of (our Volunteer Coordinator) Stacey’s sudden departure and work with some amazing volunteers I’d been missing for the last few months. My knees still hurt but not like they were. Work is much more tolerable. A bit slower perhaps but that may be age over injury. Who’s to say?
I’m grateful for what this year has brought to me. I’m still out there every day doing the best I can and far better than expected. I’m able to keep moving and I’ve learned that my physical (and sometimes emotional) limits are not nearly as bad as I thought. I’m getting much better at thanking God “no matter what happens”.
It’s often simply a matter of perspective – whether one sees difficulty as a problem or as an opportunity. Living in a state of gratitude helps shift one’s perspective. Sometimes I only learn to be grateful looking back at how God had blessed and stood by me. One of my favorite quotes is from Steve Jobs’ 2005 Stanford commencement speech, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward “. Many times, I stumble through the dark times until I look back and see how I’ve been loved and cared for. I’m getting better staying in the moment…
There’s an abundance of studies and articles about the benefits of gratitude, but I choose a very simple definition: gratitude isn’t just a noun. The dictionary may not say it, but it’s a verb as well. It’s not just a state of mind, but an action word. Sometimes placing one foot in front of another is the simplest form of gratitude one can have. My prayer for us all is that we may truly come to “Thank God no matter what happens”.
It’s a grey, yet glorious, Sunday morning. A gentle soaking rain started awhile ago and the dripping from the roof is a constant reminder of the gratitude I have today. I’m grateful for the rain that allows me to sit here and write rather than be at the farm irrigating (it’s been an unusually dry October). I’m grateful for the quiet of the house (I’m the only one awake). I’m grateful for the coffee that seems to be extra tasty this morning. I’m grateful for my four dogs who are all curled up and sleeping around my feet as I write this even if I can’t get up for more coffee without disturbing them. Life is just pretty darn good…
I’m truly thankful that the election is only two days away and the constant barrage of negative political ads will cease. I’m worn out simply watching the weather before I go to bed. Through much of this campaign season I’ve chosen to disconnect (not completely mind you) from the unceasing bombardment of campaign coverage, put on some great music, and get on with the day. I took advantage of early voting here in Texas and plan to offer rides to the polls on Tuesday for those that can’t drive.
I struggled with voting several years ago. As my relationship with God began to deepen, I began to realize that my true sovereign was the God of my understanding; that my citizenship likes in the Kingdom of God rather than my country of birth. If this is the case, my civic responsibility is somewhat different. I had become increasingly cynical of the electoral process anyway so maybe I should refuse to participate in the politics of empire. After all, many early Christians refused to acknowledge Ceasar as God, often with severe consequences.
My questions were answered when it occurred to me that I don’t vote for myself or my personal beliefs. I vote for others. I vote for the voiceless to give them a voice – the immigrants who are often left in the shadows. I vote for the powerless and the marginalized. I vote for all of those that fought for the opportunity to vote and to have a seat at the table. I vote for the common good. It’s not about class, color, religious beliefs, or party. What benefits the “least of these”?
That makes me responsible for going to vote. That makes us responsible for voting. I’m not going to tell anyone who to vote for a specific individual or party, but I am going to ask that we all take a moment to ask ourselves what benefits the common good; not what benefits only “me”. What is consistent with the values we claim to possess? In other words, I’m asking to look beyond our individual selfishness and seek people and policies that build our common community and unify our brutally broken population.
I don’t know what’s going to happen this Tuesday, but I do know this: I’m hopeful that we can begin to overcome the petty nonsense that divides us and return to some degree of sanity in our communal civic life. That may seem naïve to most these days, but my faith dictates that I constantly seek the best in others and act accordingly. I voted Friday and I hope you do too on Tuesday.
“Faith in God is not just faith to believe in spiritual ideas. It’s to have confidence in Love itself. It’s to have confidence in reality itself. At its core, reality is okay. God is in it. God is revealed in all things, even through the tragic and sad, as the revolutionary doctrine of the cross reveals!” —Richard Rohr, Essential Teachings on Love
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