Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

Yesterday I had the chance to work alongside a group of Sr. High youth and adults from my church at a food bank as they spent the week on a mission trip. I blow in for the day, but they had been at work and will continue at work after I return to the church, a few hours drive away. I am overwhelmed with the experience of watching these wonderful folk living out their faith in such a way. “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.” Jesus teaches us these words in the Gospel of Matthew. I know these words. It was powerful to see them come to life before my eyes. As we served lunch, I looked into the eyes of many who were in a hard place in life. I saw the face of Jesus in each one. As I reflected upon the day, I wondered if people could say the same about me. Do I look at others with interest and compassion? Do I look at people with eyes of grace? When the people I encounter as I live my li

  As I walked past my neighborhood school, I found this strange and confusing sight. Part of a bumper was all that could be found in the parking lot. It was perfectly lined up in front of the parking space. All that was missing was, well, a car. How did this happen? Did this part of the bumper just fall off, leaving the owner of the car unaware that they are driving a half-bumpered vehicle? Did someone find it and place it here in some attempt to help someone? Was the car stolen by thieves who decided to add insult to injury by leaving a little something behind? I wonder. This strange sight reminded me of all the people who have passed through my life and left a little of themselves behind with me. What a blessing they were - and are each day of my life. They are with me everywhere I go. “…we cared for you. Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.” I can see their faces and name so many names. They gave of thems

  Sometimes the light strikes just so in the sanctuary. Sometimes it is the way the stained glass paints the pews. Sometimes it is the floor of the chancel that is turned into a kaleidoscope of color. This day, it was the light shining on the communion table. I was walking through the narthex when it caught my attention. The sunlight was shining right down through the cupola onto the Bible. It certainly captured my attention. I stopped and went into the sanctuary. It was a nice pause and an unexpected joy. “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” I have known those words since I was a little boy. It must have been one of my first Sunday School memory verses. But today I not only knew those words, I SAW them. It was a powerful reminder that Jesus is the living Word. Jesus is the embodiment of all God is and all God desires. He is the “light of the world”. As we strive to follow Jesus in all we do and all we say, the word then truly becomes a “lamp unto my feet and a l

  I don’t know how I could have missed this. Surely this landscaping is not new, I don’t think such a work of art could be completed in a day or two. The scene speaks to me of patience; patience with both the clippers and with time. These beautifully shaped plants were formed slowly, time after time, week after week. We are much the same. I remember as a boy wanting to be big. I wanted to just wake up one day tall and strong. We want to play an instrument, but we want to skip that whole “years of practice” thing. Learning a language. Mastering a sport. Learning to paint. The list goes on forever. We would do a lot of things if it didn’t take time. The scriptures speak of our transformation over time into the image of Christ. “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.” “From glory to glory” doesn’t sound like an instant experience. It is the experienc

  As I walked down the street, the sun was at the perfect angle to transform the streams of water from a sprinkler system into flames of fire. It was strange to see what appeared as three fires in the distance turn out to be a sprinkler system just doing its job. Water and fire, so opposite, united in one of nature’s best optical illusions. Water and fire. Water the symbol of cleansing. Fire, the symbol of the unpredictable, wild Spirit. They really do go together after all. Jesus, in talking to Nicodemus, said, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit.” It takes both to fully see life as God sees it. Forgiveness sets us free. The Spirit leads us forward into a new way of experiencing God, life and each other. Sometimes we experience God as the cool, gentle mist of water, refreshing and reviving. Sometimes we experience life in all its burning unpredictability. Either way, it is the same God and the same Spirit at work to

  In a world where nothing seems constant, in a world where nothing seems steady and stable, there is always the rising snd setting of the sun. Mysterious and beautiful, never the same, the sunrise and sunset keep watch over all creation. It seems that the sun has always led the human creature to turn their thoughts toward God. We have always been searching for something, not only to grasp, but to hold onto us. One of my favorite phrases in scripture is “from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same”. The Psalmist captures, in just those few words, the power of that constant reminder to our lives. There is no time when we are alone. There is no time when we are separated from God. There is no time that exists outside the circle of God’s grace and love. To a powerful extent, we can be that type of reminder to each other as well. We can be constant in the grace we extend. We can be steady and stable in being there for one another through both the good days and the bad. Our lov

  As I walk the hot streets of my neighborhood, the result of all our Spring rain is evident. Everything is green, green, green. Lawns are thick and lush and green. Trees are alive with every shade of green one can imagine. Bushes are already overgrown with green branches waving wildly in the wind. Even in the heat, green rules the neighborhood. That is what makes the red leaves of this tree stand out boldly against the monochromatic background. In the midst of all the trees of various sizes and kinds, this is the one tree you notice. Why? It is uniquely itself. This tree is unashamedly different. It stands out in all its glory. We are all different, in our own way. The scriptures put it like this, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” So why do we spend so much time trying to be like everyone else? Why do we so often want to blend in ins

  I have walked by this detached garage countless times on my walks. It always seemed serviceable and sturdy enough. I often saw the owners coming and going in their cars from this garage, off to work or the store. I have seen them come and go on their bicycles from the shelter of this small building. It is still a serviceable, sturdy building. It just needs a little adjustment. Perhaps it needs leveled, or maybe the roof was beginning to sag. Some of the wood may have rotted and stands in need of being replaced. Whatever the reason, the structure was deemed worthy of saving and the work is being done. Soon, the garage will start a new chapter in its long life, good as new and ready for life. People are like that sometimes. We show wear and tear. We can lose our balance and need to be leveled. We may, from time to time, need some rejuvenation. And we can be renewed, we don’t need to be discarded or replaced. People are worth repairing and healing. At least God thinks so. The scriptures

  Finally the rain has stopped. The foundation prep work can begin again. Several loads of rock have been delivered in long trailers. From one perspective, you can look and see nothing but a pile of rocks. From another, you can see a key ingredient to a strong foundation. It is all a matter of perspective. As I continue to enjoy this journey that is my life, I am learning how much my perspective determines what I see. I can see the world as against me, a hostile place. I can see God as against me, bringing havoc into my life in a personal vendetta. I see other people as objects to be used for my good alone. Or, I can see the world as a place of wonder and awe. I can see God as loving and present. I can see people as gifts to be treasured. It’s all in the perspective. And my perspective determines my experience of life. “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.” Peace.

  One of the things I like the most about my neighborhood has long been the beautifully maintained lawns and the carefully executed landscaping. I like the order and the calm produced by the long view down the block, yard after yard, driveway after driveway. But at the same time, I love that random homeowners will give some space for flowers to grow wild. They till the soil, throw in the seeds, and water. Soon, happy flowers appear. They grow as flowers grow, wild and free. Yet they do not disrupt the beauty of the landscaping. They make their own contribution to the neighborhood. They bring smiles. They bring joy. We hear these words in scripture, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." We, too, are a living testimony to the joy of diversity. Some have the gift of breaking the hard lines of life and adding joy. Others bring their happiness by growing in ways that are different from everybody el

  Sometimes, as I walk along the streets of my neighborhood, I draw the attention of my neighbors. Depending on the time of day, I might encounter adults on their way to work or children on their way home from school or families out for an evening stroll. Even though we have never officially met, we are familiar to one another. We nod or wave and never break stride. Occasionally it is as if two strangers pass for the first time. We look each other over, we size each other up as we continue on our way. Like this guy. He stared a hole in me, never moving a muscle as I passed, even as I stopped and came back for the picture. I pondered what he was pondering about me. Do animals judge as we do? Was this neighbor thinking about the length of my hair or the way I was dressed? Was he imagining my life and what I do for a living or which house is mine? Did he care at all what I drove Or how much money I make? Of courses not. But I still wondered. The scriptures teach that we are not to judge

  On this cool, rainy Spring day, the clouds and the mountains seem to press down on all sides. Beautiful, yet ominous. It is one of those days that could be February instead of early Summer. All around, a somewhat strange day that seemed to exist outside of its season. A day all its own. Sometimes our lives feel as if we are isolated and out of season. We can lose track of time. We can lose track of ourselves. Sometimes life can feel ominous, pressing down upon us from all sides. The burdens we carry and the challenges we face in the moment can be overwhelming. In days such as these, we need each other the most. With all our failures and imperfections, we can still be there for one another. With all our differences and perspectives and opinions, we still hold the amazing ability to see each other through. When we walk each other through such moments, all those differences become much less important. What rises to the top is love. And gratitude. And grace. We read in scripture that we

  It is hard to believe that I have walked through another season of beautiful blooms on the neighborhood Magnolia trees. In spite of the heat, these grand flowers literally glow in their whiteness. The scent easily spreads the length of the block on the evening breeze. These are stately trees that are, to me, one of the primary markers that Summer has come. We mark our lives in many ways. Many of these ways are happy: Birthdays. Graduations. Baptisms and Confirmations. Proms and driver’s licenses. There are other markers that are sad to us, yet they delineate time as we look back. Before the diagnosis. While our parents were still alive. When our family was together. In some of the older stories of the Bible, people would pile up rocks to mark important places and important times. They did so in hopes that their children and grandchildren would ask about the strange sight. This would provide the opportunity to retell the stories in order that those who were coming after might learn t

  This year when I planted my Spring flowers, I ended up with leftovers of several different varieties. I put them all in a long box and waited to see how they would look as they grew. All the rain in recent weeks, and much to do at work, have kept me from checking on them for a couple of weeks. The sun has returned and the box has exploded with color. They may be my favorites of the season. In the diversity of creation, we see the joy of God. I imagine that the different colors, shapes, textures of the flowers sing of happiness and joy. I like to think that the sizes and characteristics of all the animals proclaim the imagination and sense of humor of God. I feel in my heart that the diversity of the human family should fill us with wonder and joy and reverence. The scriptures tell us that “God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” It has been said that one can never look into the face of a person God does not love. Ea

  One of my neighbors obviously did some cleaning in the attic or the garage. In the bright sunshine of the day, I stumbled upon this discarded Santa. He could have been sunbathing, catching a few rays for color, except he was still decked out in his winter clothes, coat and all. It is always interesting when you see something out of context or out of season. Those people that swim in the freezing temperatures of winter’s icy waters. That recent video of a tiger roaming the neighborhood streets of Houston. A child seeing a teacher in the grocery store, dazed at confused as to why the teacher isn’t at school where they belong. It takes a moment or two for our brains to fire and for us to discern who we are and where we are going. The wisdom of the Proverbs teaches us, “My son, do not forget my teaching, but let your heart keep my commandments, for length of days and years of life and peace they will add to you. Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your n