Tag: Gratitude

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Old Friends…

gregoryjoel

I spent some quiet time on the porch this morning and retreated to my office to check out the newsfeeds and my various social media accounts. I was shocked to find that my good friend and mentor, Edgar, underwent heart surgery and is in ICU recovering. For those of you that know the power of prayer I ask that you offer prayers of healing and continued grace for him and his family. I would not be the man I am today had it not been for the love and guidance he offered when no one else wanted much to do with me. Some of you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I firmly believe that when I’m barraged with the same message from various places that it’s probably something I should give some thought to and, if necessary, write about. Edgar told me that if one person tells me something, I should just acknowledge it and go about my business. If two people say the same thing, I might want to give it some serious thought. If three people bring up the same subject, God might be trying to tell me something…

In the quiet of the porch this morning I kept hearing something Jesus said in what we know as the ‘Sermon on the Mount’. It was his manifesto for life and so I try to follow it as well. I particularly like Eugene Peterson’s translation, The Message. It brings out the fullness of the original Greek and Aramaic of that time. What I kept hearing can be found in Matthew 5.5,

“You are blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.”

I thought about it a while and went on to enjoy my coffee and go about my morning routine. After the initial shock of what happened to my friend, I settled into my day. The first article I read started with a quote from Queen Latifah that said,

“Be bold, be brave enough to be your true self.”

That was twice now I heard about being one’s self, one’s true self. It was followed by a third, fourth, and fifth time as many of the blogs I follow were about the same thing. I can be pretty thick-headed at times, but I heard this one loud and clear. Be true to your ‘self’…

When I met Edgar some twenty-plus years ago, I didn’t have a clue who I was, much less what my true self was about. Poor decisions, bad choices, and a moment of clarity brought us together, and started me on an inward journey to finding who I really am. I wish I’d followed directions better during those early years of our friendship. It wouldn’t have been near as frustrating for either of us. Still, I thank God today for a friend that stuck by me despite my stubborn, hard-headed ways.

When I started following the suggestions he offered me, things began to change. I began to see myself differently and quite frankly, I like the man I am becoming. It’s definitely a journey. I’m not confused. I know God’s grace is the power that truly transforms me into who I was meant to be all along, but His transformation is meant to be accomplished with my cooperation and the people in my life. I’m grateful for all of them, but especially my friend, Edgar.

I spent many years trying to meet others’ expectations, or at least what I thought were their expectations. Today I strive to live honestly, be myself, and recognize that I’m just another thread in the tapestry of life. There are still times I get all turned around. My life looks like the back of a tapestry – a confusing mess of color and wild threads – but I’ve learned that it is really a small piece of the greater, beautiful picture on the front. Most importantly, the picture would be lacking something if it weren’t for my thread.

Edgar’s mentor, and our mutual friend, Jim, used to say that “self-examination, coupled with prayer and meditation, followed by vigorous action, produces favorable results”. That’s been my experience. He also told me that “obedience to spiritual principles shortens the distance to my hopes and dreams”. That, too, has been my experience. In the process, I’ve become “the proud owner of everything that can’t be bought”.

Awe, Christianity, Community, Creation, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gifts, Grace, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Listening, Neighbors, Positive Thinking, Practice, Prayer, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

Awesome…

gregoryjoel

I sat on the porch for a long time this morning. Margaret slept in. The dogs were content to sleep in as well and I soaked in the solitude of the day. The air felt clean for the first time in weeks. An ever so slight breeze ran across my face as if God was saying, “relax and enjoy the moment”. My coffee tasted better, the chair was more comfortable, and all was right in the world.

According to the dictionary, awe is defined as a “feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder”. This is one of those days when everything is in focus and with clarity comes a reverential respect mixed with wonder – awe. The sun is a bit brighter, the chattering of the squirrels a tad sharper, and the grass has a tinge of green that wasn’t there yesterday. I’m in awe…

According to a April 27, 2017 article in Psychology Today, people who experience awe more frequently live longer and tend to have less health problems. In fact, the experience of awe leads to enhanced critical thinking and creativity as well as a feeling of connectedness to the community and physical world around us. It helps one ‘stay in the moment’.

The article cites Dacher Keltner, a leading theorist and scholar on the emotion of awe, as saying, “Seek out experiences that give you goosebumps”. Yes, it does, and it can be found in the smallest of things.

The kids tell me that Margaret and I lead boring lives. “You should get out more” they always tell us. In some ways I’m sure they are right. It’s not that we don’t want to get out at times, but there are days when Margaret isn’t physically able. Our twenty and thirty-something (and healthy, thank God) kids don’t realize how difficult it can. While Margaret is far more social than I am, we’ve both become homebodies, and not always due to physical limitations. We stay in a continual state of awe that we could be blessed to live the life we do. While our world may seem small to some, it’s filled with joy, wonder, and awesome incredible moments.

I start my mornings here on a front porch at the end of a cul-de-sac in Fort Wort, Texas. Not much changes, and yet everything changes. Most mornings, (even on the really hot ones) I’m greeted by the song of the little mockingbird that calls our yard home. Squirrels chase each other through the trees and stop only to chatter at our cat, Wallace. We even have a resident spider that graces our front porch with a magnificent, intricate web each day. They are all details of a world full of fascination and wonder.

Life does show up from time to time with setbacks and hardships that seem awful at the time. The irony is that both awesome and awful come from the word awe. Awe can be traced back to the Greek word, achos, for pain. That makes sense to me because life can be painful at times. It has its fair share of disappointments, sadness, and frustration, and each bear their own physical, emotional, or spiritual pain. Experience has taught me that walking through the pain leads me from awful to awesome – and both can leave me in awe…

I strive to be ‘awe-full’ (who you talk to depends on which spelling they use…). Seeing God in the minute details of the world and the lives of the people is a state I want to become accustomed to. Gratitude always seem to accompany awe, and gratitude changes the way I view my world. It’s a cycle I like being caught up in.

If people who experience awe more frequently really do live longer, then I’m pretty sure I’m going to be around for a while. To those that are disappointed by that, I say, “that’s awful…”

Choices, Christianity, Community, Emotional Health, Faith, Grace, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Love, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

Recovering…?

gregoryjoel

I hit the porch about 6:30 yesterday morning. Whether it was still dark because the days are growing shorter or whether it was due to the heavy cloud cover, I’m not sure. I was prepared to enjoy our visiting cold front, but I was greeted by the same hot, still, and muggy porch. I wasn’t going to stay outside, but Margaret came out, so we shared coffee on the porch. I wiped the beads of sweat forming on my brow and commented that it was obvious the cold front hadn’t gotten to Fort Worth yet. Literally five seconds later a burst of wind from the approaching front filled the front yard with fallen leaves. It continued to blow in from the northwest and the temperature began to drop. My wife smiled and sad, “Ask and you shall receive”. Needless to say, we remained on the porch for quite a while, enjoying our coffee and relief from the last month’s oppressive heat.

It’s quiet this morning and we’re blessed with unseasonably cooler temperatures. I think the air conditioner actually shut off last night; something it hasn’t done for the last month or so. My mood has improved, and I have more energy than I have in the last couple of months. I’m excited about the day. That’s been infrequent during the heat wave. The temperature may be climbing for the remainder of the week, but I’ll make every moment count in the meantime.

It’s hard to believe it’s already the last day of July. When I was a kid, the end of July was a reminder that summer was passing way too fast and school was right around the corner. Today, it’s a reminder that I’ll be sixty this month and time is going much faster than I expected. I suppose sixty’s not the milestone I’ve made it in my head to be. I became AARP-eligible some time back and I already qualify for senior citizen discounts (and no, I’m not too proud to ask for them…).

Sixty seemed so far away to that kid dreading the end of summer and the return to school. I remember when I thought forty was old. Looking back, I used to subscribe to the Grateful Dead principle of “what a long, strange trip it’s been”. Now I just think it strange. It went by far quicker than I imagined.

I’ve been immeasurably blessed to be coming up on sixty years old. For many years I never thought I’d make it to this age. I ‘lived fast and played hard” as the saying goes. It was great when I was younger. It pretty much sucks when you’re older. Things didn’t begin to change until I was in my late forties when I found a relationship with God, as I understand Him.

My definition of ‘church’ has changed a bit, as well. I’m somewhat more comfortable in recovery meetings than I am in churches. ‘Church’ comes from the Greek work ‘ecclesia’, meaning ‘called out’. It’s where we get the word congregation from. I feel more ‘called out’ with self-described misfits in recovery programs than with most church folk. Besides, my minister would freak-out if he heard God and Motherf*#@ in the same sentence…

I mention this because I’ve been thinking a great deal about the last twelve-and-a-half years. In recovery meetings, there is some debate as to whether we ‘recover’ or are ‘recovering’. I’m not going to chime in on what all that means. It’s mostly semantics anyway. I’ve recovered from a hopeless state, but I’m still in the process of growing up so that insinuates ‘recovering’. I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use, though.

As I look back, I often wonder if there was much to recover. My life is so different from anything I’ve ever known that it feels new, rather than recovering something old. I’m not sure there’s much of the old life I want to recover anyway. I know it all boils down to the choice of words and individual understanding of their definitions. All I know is that God fulfilled His promise to “make all things new”, including me…

In a way it kind of sucks to be growing up so late in life. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be where I am today if I’d not had the experiences I’ve had. I like where I am today. Maybe the dark places of the past make it easier to appreciate the light. It’s been my observation that those of us who realize just how much grace we’ve received, appreciate life a bit more than most. “He forgives much who has been forgiven much”. Everything else just seems to fall into place…

So, come on big ‘six-o’. After all, I don’t have to go back to school…

Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Chronic Illness, Communication, Dogs, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Horses, Listening, Love, Patience, Prayer, Relationships, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

Straight From the Horse’s Mouth

gregoryjoel

Relief is in sight for the beleaguered! The forecast for the day is for cooler temperatures, at least for the next two or three days. Only in Fort Worth would we be excited by temperatures in the mid-nineties. Such are summers in Texas…

The last few days have been hectic, so I thought I’d take a break and catch the online sermon from church last Sunday morning. I’m still questioning the idea of worship in the corporate setting, so my ‘attendance’ remains online. I value the thoughts of our preacher, even if I’m still uncomfortable with how we do ‘church’ in our culture. Unfortunately, the livestream of the sermon kept disconnecting. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. I can relate to that. For the last two or three days, my prayers have been few and far between. I’ve been feeling a little low and my connection with my Higher Power is in a constant cycle of cutting out and reconnecting. I’ve felt like I’ve been in a constant ‘buffering’ state and I can’t quite reach 100%.

Connection problems can and do happen. God’s end may always broadcast a strong signal, but my reception gets spotty from time to time. The connection difficulties are always on my end. When it happens I often have to stop and clean out my ‘antennae’. Occasionally, I get far too busy, over-tired or just plain lazy and my mind gets clogged with self-pity, resentment, and self-centeredness. I begin to sound much like Eeyore in A.A. Milne’s, Winnie the Pooh – “Woe is me, I can’t find my tail…”

I’m not unique. Some of the most spiritual people I know feel a disconnect from their Higher Power on occasion. The sixteenth century Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, called this disconnect, “the dark night of the soul”. For those of us who pray, who converse with the Spirit of the Universe, we know what he’s talking about. There are times when it feels like prayers fall on deaf ears. We listen intently for answers that don’t come. God is silent. We feel alone, left to our own devices.

When I feel isolated and disconnected, I begin to wonder where God is. I start to question my faith. I’m filled with doubts: little ones at first that multiply into crisis of faith. I used to think this was anathema to me. My upbringing had taught me that questioning one’s faith destined me to the fires of hell. That haunted me for many years, but today I know that faith without questioning is not much of a faith at all. God is much bigger than my doubts. If I continue to pray and listen I will hear God’s response in the most extraordinary, yet simple, ways.

I do some work at a stable not far from my home. Don’t tell anyone, but I’d do it for free just because I love being there. There are three horses, Dollar, Lightfoot, and Trooper (‘the boys’ as I call them). Dollar is the oldest, at seventeen. The other two are two or three-year-old rescues; adopted wild mustangs from herds in Arizona and Utah.

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Now I am no ‘horse whisperer’ by any means, but I’ve developed quite a relationship with Trooper and Lightfoot. I was warned they were skittish around people, but that hasn’t even been close to my experience. They have loved and ‘hugged’ on me since the day we met. When I pull up to the stables, they amble over to say hello and let me love on them.

They are one of the ways I find reconnection with my Higher Power. I leave the stables with my spirit more in tune with the universe. There’s a buzz, a vibration, and I begin to hear God whisper. Decisions come easier. Heck, life becomes easier. My mind is free to explore the realm of possibilities, to work and play again. Most importantly, I begin to feel a sense of belonging, of being a part of something far bigger than I. My gratitude grows, and my doubts are erased. All of this happens by simply allowing God to love on me through others, whether they have four legs or two.

I’m basically an introvert. I find the company of my dogs and the horses to be my safe, comfortable place. My beautiful wife, on the other hand, is extremely social and extroverted. She loves to be on the go and around others. I often joke that I’d been more places in the first year of marriage than I had in the previous ten. For that reason, the last almost three years since her back surgery have been hard on her. I’m thrilled when she’s able to get out. I know it’s her way of reconnecting, of hearing God’s voice.

God’s voice becomes clear through our relationships with people and the world around us. When I’m aware of the beauty of creation, I strive to be a better steward of God’s world. I believe that God’s silence is simply His way of reminding me of the importance of relationships, whether they be with dogs and horses or the people in my life. His silence reminds me of the spirit of all things that connect me to the universe. His silence reminds me to be grateful, to be awestruck, and to drink in the beauty of all things.

Most importantly, His silence is a reminder He’s still there, loving me through ‘the dark night of the soul’. Those days, whether measured in weeks or years, will come for all of us. Feelings of doubt and even futility, but they will pass eventually, and probably do so in the most unlikely of ways. It might even come straight from the horse’s mouth…

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Dinosaurs…

gregoryjoel

Today I was asked to repost this, and given the long list of things to do today, I’m grateful for the brevity required to put this up today. I wish all of you a wonderful and blessed day!

It’s raining today here in Fort Worth. It’s the kind of Spring rain I love: constant, but not too heavy, gently soaking the soil, and intensifying the vibrant greens of the trees beyond my porch. I’ll be picking strawberries this weekend! It’s the perfect morning for sitting here and simply enjoying the day. My thoughts stray and wander among the raindrops. All is well, except for the dogged determination of one little bugger that keeps asking me why good people do messed up things…

Many of you know that I tend to be a news junkie. It’s a habit I acquired in high school and college, long before the “24 Hour News Cycle” and the up-to-the minute “reporting” of the Internet. I was a student activist majoring in Political Science and had some pretty high ideals. I guess everyone thinks they can change the world when they’re young, but the reality of family, jobs, bills, and the often unfortunate drudgery of adult living hasn’t set in.

My motivations have changed over the years. I still watch the news (more than I should), it still drives me to some degree of activism and usually, insanity. The high ideals of my youth have come full circle. The difference today is in the lens that I view the world with. Today I see things differently because of my relationship with the God of my understanding. I’ve talked about that “lens” a lot. I apologize for any redundancy in my posts. Just think of a blind man suddenly seeing for the first time and maybe you’ll understand my obsession (one of the better ones that have dominated my life!) with visual clarity.

Seeing the world differently has enabled me to see all sides of the story. I say all sides because, as my friend Jim used to say, “There’s three sides to every story – yours, mine, and the truth”. I must confess that growing older, and hopefully a wee bit wiser, has helped broaden my vision as well. That’s probably why I understand “conservatives” better.

That being said, I hate political and social labels like conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat, and socialist or libertarian. They seem to be ways of dismissing anyone who doesn’t agree with you. It’s just one more way we divide into “us versus them”. Moreover, they don’t really define who we are. Most, if not all, of us are not the labels we use to define one another.

I am not the labels you assign me, nor are you the labels I often find myself assigning to you. I still do that even though I know it’s not true for any of us. Changing one’s way of thinking is a difficult and most likely (for me anyway), an impossible task. It took a new relationship with a power greater than myself to transform my thinking and, more importantly, my actions. I’ve grown a little less judgmental as a result. My vision is beginning to clear.

I’ve come to re-prioritize my belief structure and activism. Things that seemed so important in my younger days have been put on the back burner, and more often than not, taken off the stove completely. Social justice and peace are fantastic things to work toward and my calling toward them hasn’t changed, but the locale has. I’m not going to change the world, but I am going to change my response to it. I probably won’t change my Senator’s vote (especially our Senators!), but the way I live may influence someone else to live a little more loving and kind right here in my neighborhood. I’m not going to impact Washington, D.C. but I am going to do things different right here in Fort Worth, Texas. I’m going to look beyond the labels and be a little kinder, courteous and, hopefully, a lot more accepting. Above all, if I’m to be labeled, I hope I’m thought of as one of those crazy followers of the Rabbi…

It’s a little easier to be an “us” today. There’s far less of “them’ today. I still have differences of opinion with people on political, social, and economic issues. Cultural differences are hard to get past at times. I continue for clarity, to see people as God sees them, and they become easier to understand. If the truth be known, becoming older has made it easier to understand people who want to “conserve” old ways of thinking and acting. Change is difficult at best…

When I came in from the porch, Margaret was watching old episodes of The Andy Griffith Show. I couldn’t help but think of how wonderful and idyllic a place like Mayberry would be. I know a lot of other people, at least Baby-Boomers like myself, who share in my feelings. Nostalgia, no matter how well-intentioned lacks any foundation. There never was a Mayberry. Even in the early sixties it was just a TV show. It may have mirrored a simpler time, but not reality. I grew up in the last few years of the Jim Crow South. I know. I still recall the resistance to civil rights and acceptance of horrors like Vietnam. The reality makes me wonder about one’s motivation toward conservatism. How can you” conserve” an illusion; something that never was?

I was meeting with a business mentor of mine a while back and he pointed out that I’m a dinosaur. I know he was referring to my lack of technological savvy (I can still create great content though!). I don’t need any reminders that I need to ask my grandchildren for technical support sometimes but, if I’m honest, I am a dinosaur and I’m okay with that. There are times I wish we lacked some of the communication, informational and mis-informational ability in our world today. Just because you saw it on the Internet doesn’t make it true, if you know what I mean. There’s enough crap out there to cement anyone’s convictions – real or imagined.

I have a long, long way to go in my journey toward the kingdom where God’s will “is done on earth as it is in heaven”. My experience is one that tells me to move forward down the path and don’t look back. I’ve made my fair share of detours and walked in a lot of circles. The cool thing is that you have, too. We’re far more alike than either of us would like to admit. Maybe we can set aside the labels, lending a helping hand and try to figure out how to help navigate to wherever both of us are headed…