Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  As I rounded the corner at the neighborhood park, the day was ending beautifully. But I thought of how strange it is that there are some days that we wish would never end, and there are some days that we feel can’t end quickly enough. Days of time spent with those we love, in the company of special friends and family we hold dear, these are the days that fly too fast away. Days of peace and calm, of laughter and joy, if only they could last just a few hours more. Days of disappointment and pain, of illness and grief, these can seem to never end. Life has its share of both, and we all know that each day is equal in hours. It is the experience of the day that makes all the difference. All our experiences take place in the context of this marking of time. Good days. Bad days. Days of loss and pain. Days full of what will become precious memories. They all begin with the rising of the sun and begin to wind down in the setting. There are aspects of each day over which we have control. The

  Well, it took almost six months, but it has happened. It didn’t look good for a long time, but slowly the tables turned. In February, during the worst ever freeze in the known history of our area, many of our Oak trees suffered terribly. They were, by all appearances, dead. Every leaf turned brown and brittle. Spring came, and nothing changed. The lush green walkway through our campus had become stark and dystopian. Week after week we waited for the change. It did not come. Then, one day, a green sprout here and there. Each walk revealed more signs of life, a leaf here and a leaf there. Then, as if in a day, the green was putting up a good fight. Slowly but surely new life pushed through. And now, in the triple digits of August, it is the dead branches that seem out of place. Now, it is the brown leaves that are beginning to disappear. It took a long, slow time getting here, but the Oaks are back. We can often feel this way about our life. All is well, and then it is not. We suffer t

  As summer continues to heat up and so many flowers begin to fade, some find their moment and seize it completely and beautifully. This brilliant orange bloom literally glows against the weathered fence and green fronds that surround it. It is a gift to all who walk by, a surprise and a joy. Some people find their moment in the challenge of crisis and the heat of struggle. Of course, we can think of leaders on the world stage who, in a moment on which history hung in the balance, embraced their call. But our lives are full of everyday people who shine in difficult circumstances. Parents who juggle all the responsibilities of work, home and parenting and still have a heart of compassion and kindness to those around them. Students who have to work to pay their way to their dreams, yet keep their focus and reach their goals. Those who are sick, and yet bring hope to others who are battling health issues. We don’t have to look to the famous. We just have to look beside us. Jesus teaches

I don’t know about you, but I find it helpful to walk by such a sign as this on a regular basis. I imagine that it was not intended to be a permanent fixture in the yard of this home. No, I imagine that it was put up in faith that the crisis would be short-lived; it was put up in the hope that life would soon return to normal and all would be well. Yet, here it stands. The sign endures. Day after day, week after week, as season runs into season, it calls out the exhortation to “Hang in There”. In one way, it has become an affirmation. Every time one passes by, they realize they have done that very thing - they have “hung in there”. Reading such a sign again and again and again can become a sort of ritual, a source of encouragement and stability in a unsettled time. There are verses of scripture that play that role for me across the years of my journey, not just the journey of these past two years but across the journey of my lifetime. From my earliest memories come these words from the

  Sometimes it is hard to see how things fit together. Our lives. People. Our future. Our hopes and dreams. Our faith and the reality of a particular moment in life. We long for order, but often feel things are just random. We want to belong, yet find it difficult to find our place. As I walk around my church buildings, I particularly like this walkway. It reminds me how all shapes and sizes of stone can fit together so beautifully into a solid, substantial foundation where all kinds of life can take place. This path leads to worship, to baptisms and weddings, to fellowship with coffee and donuts. It leads to shady benches that invite reflection and rest. This path, comprised of diverse stones, leads to the best of life. We find in the letter we call 1 Peter these words, “As you come to him, the living Stone - rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifi

  While walking the property at church , I came upon these two delicate flowers. They are truly beautiful as they stand alone in the mulch. No weeds. No grass. No other flowers in sight. As I stooped down to take a picture, I saw the garden stone nearby. The stone is a memento that celebrates a great day in the life of our congregation with the words, “God is my Rock.” As I paused, I thought of the contrast of the rock and the flower. In one of most famous parables of Jesus, he speaks of the of the sower, the seed and the different types of soil. “That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, becau

I was startled by this view of my neighborhood park. I have never passed by or walked through when it was empty. Not in the early morning hours as the sun comes up. Not in the twilight hours when the sun is setting. And never, ever have I seen it so empty in between on a bright sunny day. It seemed an alien landscape. It cast me into a moment of confusion. But this strange sight also led me to realize that a park is still a park, even when it is empty. Even without children playing and families picnicking and kites flying, this is still a park. The fundamental nature of the land has not changed. It’s purpose has not changed. It is what it is because that is what it was created to be. Sometimes our lives seem empty. Sometimes our lives look differently than they have in the past, and from how we always believed they would look. Sometimes the energy and activity are absent. Sometimes the sounds of joy are found silent. Sometimes we can forget who we are. But, like the park, we are still

  I recently took a drive up to Little Rock to visit with my big brother. It had been too long. On the way, I stopped to see our childhood home. Well, I stopped to see where our childhood home USED to be. The little frame house that my father built for his family, the only home I ever knew until I left home after high school and began life on my own, burned a few years ago. Now all that is left is the lot. I could still see where the driveway ran, and the huge Holly tree still stands in what was once the front yard. The towering Hickory tree that stood at the back door remains, strong and true. I even found the concrete cap on the old well that my daddy still used to water the lawn for as long as he lived. It was an empty lot, but it seemed so full of memories. I could see the house, complete with front porch and screen door. I could see all the cars our family drove throughout my life. I could see us all, at every stage of life, going about our wonderful and simple life. I could see m

  Sometimes my attention is captured by beauty. Sometimes it the unusual, or the warm or the striking. There are times when it is the contrast, the juxtaposition, of seemingly opposite objects in on place. So it is with this image of a cactus growing next to a birdbath. I have always associated a cactus with the hot, arid desert landscape. I have always associated a birdbath with water, filled continually to ensure that birds will come to play in the garden. Two things I had never seen together before. Sometimes we can feel like we don’t fit in with others we spend time with on the job, in school, on trips or in life. We feel left out or kept on the edges of things. It is hard to feel we are someplace we don’t belong, even when we are where we want to be. It is not always easy to see how interesting and fun opposites can be, especially when we are the opposite. The Church, at its best, is a place where the beauty of opposites shines like a light in the darkness. In Colossians, we read

  Someone built a new swing. I don’t know why swings make me so happy, but they do. I think that they seem so inviting, so welcoming. This type swing is always made for more than one person, so it just seems to speak of family, friends, children and good neighbors. It actually made me a little sad how, at that moment, it stood still and empty. It is made for others. Swinging with people is the purpose. It just isn’t right when still and empty. I think God created us that way as well. We live in a culture where we constantly exist in a cloud of perceived independence, of being “self made” individuals, of needing no one other than ourselves. Funny, I’ve never personally talked to a strong, independent and successful person who wasn’t quick to speak of those who inspired them or gave them their chance or taught them the skills and attitudes that they themselves count as the reason for becoming who they are. The one thing such people have in common is that they know they do not exist alone

  This may be the happiest yard I have ever come across in my many walks. The light colors of the broad leaves seem to glow under the shade of the yard’s many trees. The lights that wrap the trunks of the trees are the crowning touch. This home is happy, inviting and warm; an oasis in a tough world. Some people have such an effect on others. Because of their love, they offer a shady spot to rest for anyone who happens by. The way they bring hope through a kind word or a smile can be a glowing light in a gloomy world for someone at the end of their rope. To a lonely soul, these wonderful people have the ability to welcome them into relationship and community. People such as this are angels, messengers of God. And they bless the world. “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be counted among those who serve as angels of light? What a joy to think that I

“Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. So the evening and the morning were the first day” (Genesis 1:3-5). This image brought the first creation story of Genesis to mind. Even though in the story light was created on the first day, thus making the trees oddly out of place, it seems to my eye that the camera captured some of the energy and power evoked by the idea of God speaking all there is into being. It is helpful to be reminded of this foundational story of faith from time to time. It speaks of chaos and God’s spirit moving over the dark waters. It speaks of the power of God to make something out of nothing and to bring order out of disorder. The creation reveals the imagination of God and points to the beautiful, amazing thought that we are a part of God’s world, just as God is a part of our world. Each day is a conti

  I spent the day in and around New Orleans with some of our youth from the church. We went to Jackson Square, ate beignets, looked at the river and made our way to Lafitte to experience a swamp tour. It was a truly awesome day. And, of course, we ate some great food. It was New Orleans, so why wouldn’t we? We had the best tour guide imaginable, a true and proud Cajun named T. Earl. He was a mountain of a man, making me feel small as I passed by boarding the boat. He had both great knowledge and great stories. He was delightful as we learned about the swamp and alligators, and through his words we caught a glimpse of a very different life than we know. Along the way, we saw this interesting sight - a house moving down the bayou. The owner sat on the front porch for the ride as the boat pushed his house - lock, stock and barrel - to another location. Just pick up and move on; that is what this image brought to mind. Time to move on. No regrets. The scriptures often speak of pulling up s

  I love how occasionally, as I walk, I happen to pass a certain place at a certain moment at a certain angle. It produces a bit of magic. Like this instant when the sun and the fork in the tree lined up perfectly. It was as if the life energy of the tree could not be restrained any longer by trunk and bark. Perhaps the tree’s heart could not hold back any longer true praise for the Creator. Whatever images come to mind, one thing is clear. It was beautiful. Sometimes we can experience a moment when our energy and joy seem as if they could break free of this clay jar in which we live. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of God with such powerful clarity that our praise cannot be restrained. Those moments, too, are always beautiful. I had such a moment when I flew to spend a day with some of the youth from my church who are on a mission trip. When I arrived at the church where they were staying, they came up and gave me a hug. It was unexpected and spontaneous. It surprised me. It made my hear

  As I walked around my neighborhood, I came upon this collection of objects set out on the curb for Monday morning’s trash pick up. The largest part of this offering consisted of carefully cut boards. Various lengths, different sizes, but all carefully and uniformly cut with an obviously well-honed blade. It was clear that something had been built in this house. You could tell from what was left for scrap from the job, but these remains offered no clue as to what that something was. The size of the pieces of wood reminded me of good times with my daddy, building something on the work bench of his shop. We once built a model frontier fort, constructed of carefully cut tree branches of exact diameter and length. It was slow and detailed work, but that didn’t bother me. The more time the better as far as I was concerned when I had my dad to myself. I never wanted to finish a task or chore. Sometimes it is hard to tell what we are making of ourselves, and even harder to see what God migh

  As I walked today, the light was spectacular at every turn. The clouds and the blue of the sky were constantly changing in a dramatic display. At times it was so beautiful I had to stop in my tracks and take a picture. I am constantly amazed at the beauty of creation. I couldn’t help but wonder why, as I watched the evening sky, why we human creatures resist change with such steadfastness? Is God not in change as well as the enduring things of life? Does God not work through all things? Do we really trust God if we cannot trust God in the midst of change? We find these words in the Book of Daniel, “Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his. He changes times and seasons; he deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. This wise one who understood even the dreams of others seems to believe that God is not only in change, but that God is often behind change; that God works through change. Whil

  As I walk the neighborhood this summer, it seems that everywhere I see damage to the streets. That is not unusual, streets are always needing repair due to age and traffic load. But this year it seems more widespread than in years past. I imagine the brutal freeze of this past February is responsible to some degree. These old streets had never seen anything like those temperatures over that long stretch of days and nights. I think I might be seeing the results. This hole in the concrete seems to be the only one marked with colorful paint. I’m not sure what this indicates. Perhaps it is the worst of the lot. Or maybe it was the first damaged area marked in a now abandoned process of assessing damage. Whatever the case, it certainly catches the eye. Some damage is easy to see, obvious to all. Some is hidden, doing its work for a long period of time, waiting to become visible to all who pass by. Or at least to those who will stop and notice. We humans can be damaged as well. In fact, mo

  As I made my way through the neighborhood on my walk, I was watched closely by this silent sentry. I have never been all in as a cat person; I’m a dog lover myself. Though I once had a dog that had a cat, but that is another story. The thing that fascinates me most about a cat is the way they seem to be able to live in silence. This gives them an air of mystery. Sometimes we can feel as if we are living in silence. We feel alone, longing for the sound of the voice of another. We pray, but don’t feel as if our prayers make it far, and we long to hear a word from God. We think of better times, and we long to hear laughter and joy around us. Silence can be a cloud that envelopes us. Silence can be a burden. But, silence can also be a gift. In the silence we can find rest. In the silence we can think clearly without the distractions of the ceaseless noise of the world. In the silence, we can finally hear God’s voice and God’s call. The Psalmist writes, “For God alone, O my soul, wait in

  As I walked this morning, I saw this very well planned and symmetrically pleasant presentation of paving stones ready to be put into place. I could find no place in the front yard where this work would be done, so I assumed it was the back yard getting the makeover. This lovely little house is extremely well cared for, so I know whatever it is that is happening, it will be done well. Paving stones are interesting. They are natural, but removed from their original home to a new place. They are the foundation to the project, but seem to disappear as the full work begins to take shape. They endure weather and foot traffic and time. They remain. We find these words in scripture, “For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” These words speak to the truth of the foundation of our lives. Jesus endures. Jesus remains. The winds of culture blow ideologies from extreme to extreme. Economies rise and fall. People come and go from our lives. We live

  This has always been one of my favorite houses in the neighborhood. You could tell this mid-century modern was all original, inside and out. I never met the owners, but I saw the elderly couple driving in the neighborhood from time to time. They had two cars of the same make and model, with only the color to tell them apart. Then I noticed they went to one car. A year or so later, there was no car. Then another year or so later, the remodel begins. I hope the couple made the choice to move into an assisted living facility. I hope they are very happy in a new life, wherever it may be. That’s what I’m choosing to believe. But it certainly marks a changing of the guard as the original owners leave after 64 years and someone new begins to make this home their own. Time is relentless in its march. We try to do all kinds of things with time. We try to save it. We try to mark it. We seek to buy some time and sometimes to make time. We race against time and we embrace time. So it is with tha

  As I walked my neighborhood, I was struck by a strange sight. On a quiet little street, in front of a quiet little house, there was this huge military vehicle, parked in the driveway like it was a regular car. It felt a bit ominous; so out of place and unexpected. But at the same time, it looked at home with the flag that was posted in the yard. After all, July 4th was the next day. On this holiday, I can’t help but think of childhood memories. Fireworks, watermelons, cold sodas on a very hot day. Hamburgers and hot dogs cooked on the grill. Dad home from work and playing like a kid. All benefits of life in this country. This country has been on a challenging journey. At this moment, we know division and conflict. We mourn the loss of civil discourse and a sense of the common good. The effects of the pandemic are still coming into focus. We face serious challenges at every turn. All true, but we should never forget the gift that moves us along. We can challenge those situations we fi

  The day was hot and humid, the sky billowing with clouds. As I walked through the community garden I saw these green apples, well on their way to Fall perfection. They seemed a type of real life still life to me. What a pleasant surprise they were. So many things in creation come along in their own time. The biggest difference is the length of the process. Apples come on and ripen in months. Rivers continue to find their course across millennium. Glaciers move across time immemorial. Some insects experience an entire life in the passing of a day. Everything else, including we humans, fall in the middle somewhere. But still, we are on the way to becoming throughout our life. “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” The epistle tells us that God is patient and works over time, as long as it takes. God is working for us to know forgiveness. God is working for

  Well, it happens. Every now and then you get stopped in your tracks. It doesn’t matter where you are going. It doesn’t matter what time you need to be there. Schedules are not relevant. Sometimes you just get stopped in your tracks. This can happen in our cars. It can happen in our relationships. It can happen in our spiritual lives. Things don’t constantly flow forward. Obstacles arise. Challenges rise up to meet us. Life can be hard. Paul writes, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.” Even when we experience a “flat tire” time in our life, we will be rolling again. Who knows? Maybe something powerful may happen while we are forced to stop. You never know. Peace.