Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  The sunsets at the end of December always make me think of the passing of the year. Slowly the year has moved through our lives, and our lives through the year. Sometimes the movement is imperceptible, then suddenly we discover that it is dusk and the months and weeks and days and hours and minutes and seconds have slipped through our fingers. Soon the sun, and the year, are gone. I always liked the poetry of the old hymn, “Day is Dying in the West”. Like many others, It is no longer often sung. But the words speak beautifully of the transitions that fill life. Day is dying in the west, Heav’n is touching earth with rest; Wait and worship while the night Sets her evening lamps alight Thru all the sky When forever from our sight Pass the stars, the day, the night, Lord of angels, on our eyes Let eternal morning rise, And shadows end. The end of each day, and the passing of each year, take place within the circle of God’s love and grace. Through all the beauty and all the pain, throu

  I have enjoyed the amazing and brilliant holiday displays that have adorned the yards in my neighborhood this year. They were all such a gift. Some were funny, some touching. Some were huge, some small. Some elaborate, some simple. But of them all, this is the one I will carry in my heart into 2021. Just a word, and a simple one at that. One syllable, nothing more. Joy. What a powerful word! Just the sight of those three letters sets our hearts racing with memories that define the best days of our lives. Childhood and simpler times are evoked. Milestones such as graduations and the birth of children rise to the surface of our minds. Experiences such as falling in love and finding our calling in life are so real again we can almost feel the anxiousness and awkwardness of the moment, even though many years have passed. Joy. We have just sung the hymn, “Joy to the World”. What a glorious thought! Joy to all. Joy to all, all at once. As we once again rehearsed the story of the birth of J

These mornings between Christmas and New Years Day have been very interesting. Some mornings are really cold, some warm as Spring. Some are overcast, while others so clear and vividly blue that the sky seems to be in technicolor. Much like the year itself, much like life itself, I never quite seem to know what to expect. This image captured my attention in a profound way. The starkness of the dormant Pecan tree against the breathtakingly beautiful blue sky seemed to speak to me. Life is never one thing; it is always, somehow, moving in that space between. The harshness of winter and the promise of spring. The passing of one year and the approach of another. Growing into the prime of life and growing old. Times of great joy and the clouds of suffering. Periods of strong faith and moments of doubt. The problem comes when we forget this truth and see only one side of life as all there is, or at least as all there should be. Then we find ourselves easy prey to either despair in the hard da

  The services are done, the gifts are opened. Calls have been made and too much food has been eaten. The big day is past. It is quiet and life seeks to return to its normal rhythm. As I arrived early on Sunday morning to the church, it was quiet snd still. I checked the pews and cleaned up a bit in preparation for the few hardy souls who would come back so soon to worship once again. I always turn on the lights on the tree, enjoying the beauty while I may. Soon the sun began to rise and I turned off the sanctuary lights as I headed to my office to go over my sermon a few times before anyone else arrived. I looked back and caught this lovely sight. The Chrismon tree aglow, its lights reflecting on the white and gold symbols for the baby whose birthday we celebrated just three days ago. Lion. Lamb. King. Prince of Peace. So many names for this one beyond description. The morning sun, rising outside these walls, was beginning to set afire the colors of the stained glass and push back the

  Brilliant sun and frosty breath, Perfect for this Holy day. The church house warm with poinsettias Aglow, Chrismons struggling to describe the “who” Of this one soon to come, beyond description. How does one describe love and do it justice? How does one point to a baby and claim He is God? Both impossible, both absurd. But we long so desperately to know both As our own. I have no words for either love or God, Though long I have studied so many words, Too many words. But I know this - love is that baby and that Baby is God, For in the end they are but one and the same. How do I know, if all my years of seeking Leave me lacking? I know because I have known the touch Of brilliant sun and frosty breath on many Days more than this one day, When all creation seems to sing and Even my heart knows, for a blessed moment, Peace. I know because I see the truth in you, In eyes filled with both love indescribable And with God. And I believe. Peace.

  It is the Eve of Christmas, and this Santa is in a hurry. He has the sirens on so he can make all the lights. His faithful Dalmatian is hanging on and the fire truck is flying past. This first responder is on the move, time is of the essence. There are addresses to reach and lives to be saved. People are counting on him and he is ready to serve. This is the speed with which the season seems to rush as the day draws near. As I came into my house this evening, I saw the box of cards I have yet to send, sitting on the counter where I left them two weeks ago. Where have the days gone? Traffic Is terrible and patience seems to be growing thin. We are haunted by what is left undone and feel guilty about our failure to be perfect. We are in such a rush that we can easily miss the joy that we intend to celebrate. But it is not too late. We can hit the brakes. We can stop and take a deep breath. We can still find meaning and purpose in the Christmas that is almost. We can stop by the stable a

  It must be getting close to Christmas because I spotted Santa camping out in the neighborhood. I suppose it is too far and too long a trip to return to the North Pole every night while doing reconnaissance in preparation for the big night. So the big guy carries a tent and sleeping bag and makes the most of it. We have really been having some cold nights, so I was relieved to see that Santa is skilled in building a fire. But then again, he has been making this whole gift delivery thing happen for a long time, so why the concern? Santa must always be on the move. The old song says it well: I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger Traveling through this world below There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger In that bright land to which I go. We are all poor wayfaring strangers, just passing through. Jesus was born and lived among us, but for a little while. Yet that brief sojourn here turned the world upside down. We tell the story of that brief life over and over and over again because i

  This morning brought me to this corner where I can’t help but think Christmas 2020 is well depicted. Along the two spiral Christmas trees are two flying pigs and a T-Rex in a Santa hat. For my money, that about sums it up. The flying pigs speak to me of all all the crazy “when pigs fly” moments of the year, from shut-downs to runs on toilet paper to the search for the rare and illusive disinfectant wipes. So many things we never would have believed could happen, happened. The T-Rex represents the tough times, the battles, which so many have fought and are still fighting. Health issues. Job loss. Economic uncertainty. Isolation. Anxiety. 2020 has been a monster of a year, from any and all angles. Yes, flying pigs and a T-Rex sum it up. But even flying pigs and T-Rexs have a place at the manger. It was into such a world that Jesus was born. It was in such a world that Jesus lived. It is in the midst of life in such a world that we are called to continue to live out the life of the Jesu

  This is one BIG Santa. This is a Texas-sized Santa. It is a NFL sized Santa. This Santa is a commanding presence, to say the least. He stands tall and proud, dominating his block in our little neighborhood. But he is a friendly giant, greeting all who pass with a wave of his hand. This huge Santa represents well this season of big things. Family is big this time of year. The dreams of children are big. Yard decorations are big - obviously. Meals are big. Lines for the cashiers in the stores are big. Traffic jams are big. Memories and hearts feel big at Christmas, as does sometimes our loneliness and disappointment. And at the heart of it all is a little baby. What an interesting point to ponder. The Creator of all there is, the God of all people, the source of all life, small enough to be held in the arms of a nervous young mother. We sing about this big thing become small: Away in a manger No crib for His bed The little Lord Jesus Lay down His sweet head The stars in the sky Look d

  This morning saw a heavy, heavy frost. This week and the cold weather have brought the final farewell to all the flowers. In my backyard I had the good fortune to say goodbye to the last rose of 2020. In the morning light, covered by a thin coat of ice, I am not sure my roses were ever more beautiful than they are in this, their final day. As I took this picture, I heard the haunting words and melody of a song of the Advent season begin to play in my head: Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming From tender stem hath sprung! Of Jesse's lineage coming As men of old have sung It came, a flower bright Amid the cold of winter When half-spent was the night This Flower, whose fragrance tender With sweetness fills the air Dispels with glorious splendor The darkness everywhere True man, yet very God From sin and death He saves us And lightens every load. Once again I am reminded of the mystery of the incarnation. This life born at Christmas is our life. This life born at Christmas is the very l

Today was a great day in many ways, but none greater than the moment when, on my walk, I discovered the Great Christmas Rooster of Heights Park. Standing proud and tall, draped in festive lights, this big guy stands guard on the front porch. Though I’m often surprised by what I come across in my wonderful neighborhood, I seriously doubt I will see another sight like this Christmas Rooster. This year I have been convinced that absolutely anything can be turned into Christmas. Add some colored lights or a red bow and instantly you have a holiday decoration that shares joy and gives the gift of laughter. I have also been convinced this year that we, too, can all be turned into Christmas. No, it isn’t bring draped in lights or wrapped in a bow that transforms us. Instead, it is a smile or a simple act of kindness toward another. It is an act of civility in a harsh world, an anonymous generous act toward a stranger. It is love lived out in the face of anger. Offering hope is what does the m

  Charles Shultz, creator of the Peanuts characters, said, “happiness is a warm puppy”. Few would argue that sentiment; I know I would not. So I have especially loved seeing these Christmas puppies pop up this year around the neighborhood. Christmas is for the young at heart, whether man, woman, boy, girl or apparently, canine. One of the reasons I love Christmas is that it takes me back to memories of my own childhood. But I also find myself in tune with the magic of the season as I watch it through the eyes of the children around me. The joy and wonder erases a few of my years and lightens my heart. It isn’t Christmas until I see children in make-shift costumes playing shepherds, angels, lambs, wise kings and a young couple, surrounded by hay, holding a baby. There is something about their simple depiction of this strange and complicated story that gives me faith to joyfully embrace it in a way that a lifetime of theological study never could. The man the baby of Christmas grew to b

  This yard just moved way up the list of my favorites. Though a few days ago I wrote about coming upon a little giraffe, I never expected to find a large one in a Christmas display. And if that wasn’t enough, it is not only a giraffe joining Santa on this lawn, but a monkey, an elephant and a hippopotamus as well. No wonder Santa is so happy. He is surrounded by his very own zoo! When I was a boy, my favorite animal was the hippopotamus. I’m not sure how the hippopotamus came to be so intriguing to me, but it was just that for years. I’m sure it had something to do with a poem by Ogden Nash I loved: Behold the hippopotamus! We laugh at how he looks to us, And yet in moments dank and grim, I wonder how we look to him. Peace, peace, thou hippopotamus! We really look all right to us, As you no doubt delight the eye Of other hippopotami. To each their own. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This fun little rhyme can mean several things, like a hippopotamus in a Christmas display. I lik

  Now that’s a reindeer! These two startled me as I walked this morning. It was cold, and I was dressed warmly. I was thinking to myself how much more I was enjoying the winter decorations in the winter weather. Let’s be honest; It’s hard to take a snowman seriously when it is hot outside. And the idea of a sleigh gliding through grass that is still growing, forget about it! So everything seemed right with the world. The music of the season played in my head and my heart was filled with memories of Christmases long ago. Then I saw these two ginormous reindeer. This was going to be a great day! I imagined the children who lived in this house. Oh, I have no doubt they were enchanted with their normal-size inflatable Christmas tree and their little Frosty. The spiral trees with lights I am certain they found beautiful at night. But can you imagine the excitement when they woke up to these two bigger-than-their-parents sized reindeer? They must be the happiest kids on the block! If there e

This is a Texas Christmas yard, without a doubt. Cacti wearing toboggan hats and a snow man in a Cowboy hat swinging a lariat. And, fittingly, on this particular day it was sunny and warm. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go.” One of the things I enjoy most about Christmas is seeing the many different images of the nativity. Wherever the story has traveled, the story has been reflected in the culture of that place. Skin tone, clothing, style, setting - the nativity story is vibrant and alive everywhere it has been told and embraced as the story of God’s love for us. And rightly so. This story is for us all wherever we are. The story of this season is for us all wherever we have been. The story itself invites us to find our place in it, to join in, to seek as the wise kings and to celebrate as the shepherds. The story leads us all to find the loving God who has already found us, right where we are. So all the other signs of the season come along for the rid

As I walked along among the yards all dressed up for Christmas, I came upon this giraffe. Some little one no doubt dropped it out of their stroller as the family made a trip around the block. I’m sure someone misses this cute little whatever it is. It captured my attention because one in Texas does not usually expect to find a giraffe amidst the snowmen, reindeer, Santas, and penguins. I like the idea of a giraffe coming to the manger or singing with the angels. I really like the idea of shepherds tending their flocks of giraffes by night. ( Or, to be more precise, tending their towers of giraffes by night.) As I walked away, i found myself thinking of the ways and times I have felt I didn’t belong. I imagine all of us have been in that spot once or twice. We don’t seem to get the joke. We haven’t seen the show everyone’s talking about. We don’t dress the same or like the same music or hold the same values. Our story is different, our appearance is different, our goals are different. W

Today I took a little walk around the buildings where I work. It is exciting these days around the church. We are beginning a new building project that has been in the works for two years. The first step in the plan is to demolish an old building that has served us well and long. All that remains are a few piles of rubble that will be hauled off tomorrow. The old is making way for the new. Change can be difficult. We sometimes have to let go of something we have to make room for something we need. It does not lessen the value of what we had, or mean that we don’t carry the a best of our past forward with us into the new. It just means that we are moving forward into our future. And we always move forward shaped by all that went before; the joys and the sorrows, the defeats and the victories, the cherished memories and those things we’d love to forget. This season we celebrate a moment in time when the past and the future meet in a profound way. Phillips Brooks expressed it in a hymn he

On my walk I pass a yard with flocks of two types of fake birds. There is a group of fake Canadian geese and a neighboring group of fake pink flamingos. On this particular morning, the two groups apparently wandered a little too close to one another. The result was this image of a goose pinning a pink flamingo to the ground by its neck. It was like a scene from an all fowl production of West Side Story and the Sharks and the Jets finally rumble. I wonder if the homeowner staged this scene to be funny or if a neighbor had looked at all these fake birds for as long as they could stand. Either way, it certainly captured my attention. A strange sight indeed amidst all the other yards full of inflatable holiday cheer. Life is that way for us all. In the midst of the best of times, the harsh realities of sickness and struggle are never far away from us. By the same token, in the midst of the hardest struggle, love and light are as close as the next sunrise. We are always living in that borde

  I don’t know about you, but I think this may be the happiest of all Christmas decorations. Seriously. Santa Claus alone is awesomely wonderful anytime, anywhere. But you put Santa on a unicorn, riding through a rainbow- forget about it! “Have a Magical Christmas!” Indeed. I believe I already have! I so want to meet the people who live in this house. They certainly have it going on for Christmas 2020. Sometimes the holidays face tougher crowds than usual. Certainly as we come to the end of this year of Covid where we are all tired and anxious and frustrated. Those years when we have lost those dearest to us and the holidays just seem to magnify the empty place at the table and in our hearts. Times when it seems the world has jumped the tracks beyond repair and we feel it is futile to sing of peace on earth or goodwill toward anyone at all. Yes, there are times we need a magical Christmas. As we have celebrated the first two weeks of the Advent season at church I have felt particularly

  As this year draws to a close, it occurred to me this might be the most representative yard decoration of 2020. To some extent, I think all us have felt like this snowman at some point - all dressed up and nowhere to go. During this pandemic it is easy to feel exhausted and to feel as if all the wind has been taken out of our sails. And that is perfectly reasonable. We are out of our routines and anxious and uncertain. But we must never forget that, this too, shall pass. Like the snowman lying crumpled in the yard, when the wind comes, we will stand tall again. The homeowner only has to flip a switch on the blower, the air flows and the snowman greets passersby as if nothing ever happened. If only we found life so easy. If only it was as simple as flipping a switch and standing tall once again. But we do have something in common with our Frosty. When Jesus was talking about the things of God and finding a new life even when we are old, he told Nicodemus that “The wind blows wherever

  This morning brought the first frost. It really is the holiday season! I loved the way the sun was casting shadows on the frosty grass. I especially like way the sunrise made my own shadow look like an angel. If you know me, you know what a stretch that would be. The cold brings the annual discussion concerning the weather: do you like the cold? I, personally, do. I’d much rather be cold than sweltering in the 100+ weather of the Texas summer. Others love the heat and begin being miserable as soon as the temperature falls below 70 degrees. Each to their own. Chekhov wrote, “People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.” How true it is! We don’t notice a lot of things when we are happy that cause us great aggravation when we are not. Our frame of mind, our attitude, determine to a large extent the type of day we experience. It determines whether those around us can rob us of the joy of our work and life. It determines whether we live into our challenges or giv

  This little Rudolph greets me early on my walking route around the neighborhood. He always makes me smile. His wide eyes and open expression make me want to stop and pet him as I go on my way. It is amazing to me each time I pass how lifelike this little piece of yard art seems. This brings me memories of childhood Christmases long ago. The old television special of Rudolph , with Santa riding an electric razor over snow-covered hills for the commercials. My dad putting up our Frosty the Snowman on the porch in his pine-bough covered frame. The annual visit from my Aunt and Uncle who lived across the river. Decorating the tree and putting out the “manger scene” in the living room. My mother making M&M cookies. My dad taking the kids to buy presents for my mom. Remembering such as this is a gift. My parents and my aunt and uncle are all gone now, but I see them in my heart each Christmas. When our tree goes up, it takes me back to younger days and simpler times. For a moment, not