Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  I have written about this picnic table before. I love the variety of shapes and sizes of the containers in which the owner has potted plants of different types. And, of course, the dinosaur is a great touch. As I walked by this last time, I almost missed it. A small Jack-O- Lantern has joined the lineup. I personally think it balances out the T-Rex quite nicely. But once I saw it, I could not help but notice how a small addition made a big difference. So it is with our lives. It isn’t always the big things that change us. Of course, the big things are, well, big. Job changes, relocations, births, deaths, health issues - all these certainly change our experience of each day. But small things can be big as well. A new and healthier routine. Reconnecting with friends from our younger years. Taking up a discipline such as exercise or prayer. Changing an attitude. Volunteering an hour for the good of others. These seemingly small things can end up making a big difference in our life and

  This poor skeleton creature must have been suffering from the above average temperatures of this Texas October. It had gone to considerable effort to climb up this fountain in order to get a drink of water to quench its thirst. Apparently it is even too hot for skeletons this Halloween. We all know what it is to thirst for something. Water on a hot day. Success. Companionship. Love. A new beginning. Perhaps at the bottom of all our thirsting is the desire to know and to be at peace with God. The Psalmist put it this way: “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng. Why, my sou

  Have you ever had the feeling you were being watched? Do you sometimes feel that you are not alone, even though no one else is around? I certainly did on the morning I first turned this corner during holiday season. I walked past, then turned back. I knew something was odd, different. It took me a few moments before I noticed that the trees had eyes. When I did, I was taken aback. This was a very subtle, yet effective, display. When I was a boy growing up in the church, I remember times when our lessons concerned the idea that God was watching us. The imagery was profound; God knows the number of hairs on our heads, not even a sparrow falls without God noting its demise, what is done in secret is known to God. I have to admit, there were times in my life when that idea was not so comforting! God watching seemed to me to be one of those things that could be both really good and really bad. As I have grown older, the thought has definitely moved more to the “good thing” side of the le

  With everything else going on in this yard, and in the yard on either side of this one, I almost missed it. I was caught up in the displays closer to the sidewalk that has been such a part of my life for a year and a half. Fortunately, today something caught my eye and drew my attention to the house itself. There in the brick planter lay a most surprising image. Skeleton arms reaching up from the earth? Not so unusual at Halloween. But skeleton arms reaching up from the earth to flash a double thumbs up? That, my friend, is special. It made me laugh out loud. Could there be any stronger sign of optimism and positive outlook than this? Some people just have that gift of attitude. They always seem to find something to be grateful for, something to look forward to in the future. Such as these are a blessing to all. Jesus offers a way to such a life when he said, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For li

  As I enjoy the holiday decorations of my neighborhood, I have noted that while some yards have ghosts and some have skeletons, a few, like this one, go with the complete graveyard theme. This scene has elaborate and detailed tombstones laid out in rows. There is a random skull exposed, then an entire skeleton. But my favorite aspect is the skeleton hound that roams the quiet cemetery lawn. Even as a skeleton, it somehow manages to look cute and friendly. The presence of the dog takes the edge off what should be a gruesome sight. When we face tough times, we are among the blessed if we have someone that walks through them with us. A family member or a friend can have great power in such times. They can’t change the circumstances or erase our struggle, but some how they still manage to take the edge off. Perhaps it is their laughter. Perhaps their quiet strength. It may be their wisdom or the grace they show that seeps into our lives even in our weakest and least gracious moments. Some

  As I made my way through the Halloween wonderland that is my neighborhood, I came across an old camper van. It was in the “Good Times” style and fashion and looked like it had surely seen some “good times”. It made me smile. Everyone my age spent at least a few of their teenage years dreaming of such a van and an unplanned and open-ended road trip. As I drew near to take in the memory, I noticed something in the rear window. It was a face, and I was taken aback to think that I was looking at the van while someone in the van was looking at me. But then I recognized the face. It was The King, Elvis himself. Now that was a perfect addition to my Halloween; seeing Elvis was awesome. For the rest of my walk my mind ran a long forgotten play list of hits. People long gone from our lives in the physical sense can still illicit strong responses through their memories. Our responses can come from either a joyful or painful place. Parents. Teachers. Friends. An image, whether physical or menta

  I had to stop and spend a little time with this Halloween scene. The Jack-O- Lantern and skeleton dog certainly gets one’s attention. Nestled between the two lawn chairs with a table between, this bizarre pair seems oddly at home. It feels as if they belong right where they are. That is a good feeling, is it not, to feel that we belong right where we are? Whether as a young person feeling we have a true and loyal friend or two or an adult knowing we have found the right vocation, we all wish to feel that we belong right where we are. When I was a boy, our church sang a song about belonging. I still remember the first words: Jesus, my Lord will love me forever, From Him no pow'r of evil can sever, He gave His life to ransom my soul; Now I belong to Him; Now I belong to Jesus, Jesus belongs to me, Not for the years of time alone, But for eternity. There is a place we always belong, each and every one of us. We all belong in the arms of grace and love. And, because of that, we end u

  Each time I walk, I am in search of something interesting. And I have yet to be disappointed. All around me are odd or beautiful or fascinating things to enjoy and, sometimes, to write about. On this particular morning, what captured my attention was what was missing. Amidst yard after yard of elaborate Halloween decorations added during the month, this yard was missing something. Whatever hung in the tree was gone, only the strap that held it remained. I racked my brain trying to remember what I had seen in this tree. Was it a swing? Was it a game of some sort? It was useless. I could not remember what was missing. I thought of how, in our busyness, we can lose touch with our connection to God. We may not notice at first. Life rolls along in the usual way. We work and play. We see the same people each day and live in the same relationships. Then one day we realize that something is missing. We can’t quite put our finger on it. Experiences aren’t as full. Things that we love don’t br

  As the sun rose on a clear, bright morning, I was intrigued by a red glow as I turned onto a new block. As I drew closer, I found this gazing ball in a little garden near the sidewalk. I had never noticed it before. The light was at just the perfect angle to make it appear that the ball glowed from within. It seemed to have its own energy and source of power. It was an other-worldly image. Whenever I see one of these gazing balls I remember how, as a boy, I thought of them as a crystal ball used by a fortune teller. You remember the stories, don’t you? The person with a special gift would gaze into the ball and literally watch future events unfold. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Then they would pronounce the fate of the seeker. As much as I may think I would like, at times, to know the future, I think in truth that I would rather roll with life unfolding as it does. How differently would I live if I already knew the rest of my story? What choices would I make that are different from

  With the changing of the season comes a visit to my neighborhood dinosaur. It is always interesting to see how this fellow celebrates each new season. When I last saw him, he was decked out in a “back to school theme”. These days it is Halloween. If you ever spent time wondering what a dinosaur would choose as a costume, rest easy. A pirate. Dinosaurs apparently choose to dress up as pirates. I also loved the little dinosaur skeleton. It was a nice touch. If only dinosaurs could have adapted so easily and quickly in real time. If only we could seamlessly transition from one season of life to the next, from one situation to the next. To deal with life, were it only as simple as changing a costume. If only. But through all the changes in life, some things remain constant. The rising and setting of the sun. The companionship of a soulmate. The abiding presence of God. In the Exodus, God promises, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” That was quite the promise before

  As I continue to enjoy walking through my neighborhood world of Halloween yard art, it seems to me that, yes, skeletons are the main theme this year. I have seen them in all shapes and sizes, in every situation. They lounge in chairs and hang from trees. Small skeletons and huge skeletons, whatever you like, one can find them here. Some days, as I pass this particular fellow, I hear myself say, “I feel you, buddy!” I believe this pandemic has left most of us, at times, feeling stuck like prey in a spider’s web. Just when we see some light on the horizon, another wave drags us down. Oh, we keep moving, but we feel stuck and trapped in a situation that can feel overwhelming. Other things can hold us captive as well. We can easily come to feel trapped and paralyzed and hopeless in the face of the challenges and struggles we face. This is when we need to remember these powerful words of truth: “And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” Of what truth does the writer s

  It was an overcast, windy and dreary day as I found myself walking around the shore of Lake Texoma. I had not come prepared for the unseasonably cold October morning, and walking was a means to warming up after a long time sitting in the wind. As I walked, I was struck by the fact that the feel of this place was more like the ocean than a lake. The wide open expanses of water, the waves whipped up by the wind and the silence of the place all worked together to transport me far from North Texas. I sometimes find myself transported to other places and times in my mind. A memory takes me back to childhood, to simpler times when my parents were alive and life was, for me, carefree. A song can carry me to a moment in time and I can remember details down to the clothes I was wearing as a teenager out with my friends. It is, at times, astounding. When times are hard, sometimes the words of scripture or the sound of a song can renew our strength by transporting us to a time when we felt espe

  As I walk through the Halloween wonderland that is my neighborhood, I came across this house that is all in on ghosts. I am certain that from now on this tree will, in my mind, be forever remembered as the ghost tree. It is as if Fall has arrived and it is ghost picking time. Grab a basket and load up on some ghosts! But I couldn’t help but think that we all have plenty of ghosts of our own already; we have no need of picking up any one else’s. We have those things from the past that seem to linger, that seem to keep hanging around in our heads and in our hearts. Regret. Pain. Failure. Disappointment. Dreams that were unfulfilled and plans that we never risked to try. We should never let such “ghosts” blind us to all the other memories that also have place in our heads and our hearts. We should remember the moments we never regret; moments when we lived fully into life and love, moments when we knew joy and hope. We must spend time nurturing the dreams that still energize us and maki

  As you know by now, I love my neighborhood. The trees, the different designs of the houses, the people; the list is long. Then there is this, the world’s tallest skeleton. If I’m honest, this would be the only reason I need to love my neighborhood. Seriously, would you need more than this huge, creepy and bizarre example of yard art gone to the next level? I think not. I’ve known people who were, in their way, bigger than life. I experienced them through their huge hearts of love and compassion, their wide open view of people different from themselves and their commitments that endure through all the ups and downs of their own lives. Yes, these have been bigger than life in their own way, and they have made a difference in this world. They haven’t all been “front and center” people, but they have still been bigger than life. We don’t have to stand tall as a 12 foot skeleton to stand out. Jesus was bigger than life, one who related to all kinds of people. He offers us this invitation,

  The soccer fields at the park are empty. Not one person in sight. No players. No fans. No parents. No running. No noise. Just silent sunlight and an eerie calm. The scene had a bit of the feel of an old Twilight Zone episode. I felt as if I was the last person left after some huge cosmic event. But as I lingered for a moment under the shade of a massive Oak, I began to view the moment in another way. What if this were a way of looking at a new day? What if each morning we start off fresh, with the opportunity to try again the things we failed and to build upon the things we got right? What if everyday began with our lawn neatly mowed and our nets set for a great day? The scriptures teach that, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Each morning is such a beginning in God’s love. Each day is a day that starts with God’s compassion. We are not bound completely by the past; we have t

  I have walked these streets countless times in the past year and a half. In the beginning of this adventure, I was often amazed by what I saw. Now, so many miles down the road, what amazes me is what I do not see. Take this tree, for example. As I walked past, it dawned on me that in all the yards I have documented and admired, I believe this is the lone Cedar tree. How strange on both counts; it is the only one of its kind and I never noticed. How much do we fail to notice along the way? What wonderfully unique experiences do we miss because of our poor observation skills? Who knows? I imagine each day is full all manner of interesting things, all waiting to be observed. So it is in our spiritual lives as well. The old Gospel hymn says it so well: “Open my eyes, that I may see Glimpses of truth thou hast for me; Place in my hands the wonderful key That shall unclasp and set me free. Silently now I wait for thee Ready, my God, thy will to see Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine!

  It must be that time of year once again. The flowers are full of lovely butterflies. Actually, the air is full of them as they make their great migration south. What a joy to see them and walk among them. I was taking a few pictures as many of these lovely creatures were taking a brief rest on their journey. This particular butterfly quickly became my favorite. Did you notice anything about this one? It took me a moment, but then I was instantly a fan. This butterfly is injured. Did you notice the missing tip of the wing? These creatures that seem so delicate and fragile appear to be much tougher than we might think. Here it is, keeping up with the others that show no damage from the flight thus far. The Psalmist writes, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” People are broken in all manner of ways. Broken hearts. Broken health. Broken relationships. Broken dreams. Broken spirits. And like the butterfly, people show an amazing ability to ke

  What a joy to come to this corner and be greeted by such beauty. No matter the weather, no matter my state of mind, this corner is bright and hopeful. These flowers make a difference. It brought to mind a gospel hymn of my childhood, a song I had not thought of in decades. It is titled “Brighten the Corner Where You Are”. I still remembered a few of the words. “Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do Do not wait to shed your light afar To the many duties ever near you now be true Brighten the corner where you are Brighten the corner where you are Brighten the corner where you are Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar Brighten the corner where you are Just above are clouded skies that you may help to clear Let not narrow self your way debar Though into one heart alone may fall your song of cheer Brighten the corner where you are Here for all your talent you may surely find a need Here reflect the bright and Morning Star Even from your humble hand the Bread

  As I walked through the beautiful park, I was struck by the silhouettes of the Cypress knees that line the pond. No one is certain what purpose these signature structures serve for the trees, but they are hauntingly beautiful. With the play of light and shadow this morning, these knees looked to me like a crowd of tiny people gathered at the pond’s edge. Anytime I see a Cypress tree, my mind turns to the biblical descriptions of the Temple in Jerusalem. The massive stones, the soaring roof, the courtyard, the elaborate furnishings - all of these are fascinating and impressive. But since I was a boy, what has captured my attention is the use of timbers in the construction. How beautiful must that woodwork have been to befit the house of God! “The glory of Lebanon will come to you—its pine, fir, and cypress together—to beautify the place of My sanctuary, and I will glorify My dwelling place.” This morning it appeared to me that these Cypress trees were still creating a Temple for the w

  Most Sunday evenings I help serve the meal and hang out with the youth at my church. I think of it as my “weekly dose of young”. There are few things I enjoy more than talking and laughing with young people, sharing about life and studying the Bible with these folk. They make my heart glad. At the end of the evening, I was taking a few pictures of each smaller group of youth. As I turned to photograph this particular group, I was fascinated by the way the sunset was playing off the brick wall in the background. Do you see it? In the Book of Acts, the Pentecost event that gave birth to what would later come to be called “church” is described in these words: “They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.” As the rays of the setting sun was filtered through the surrounding Oaks, it appeared to me as flames of fire. And I found it fitting. I have heard the word of God from these young people. I have seen them act compassionately and selflessl

  One day, for some reason, I was taking my walk inside the church building. As I passed through the children’s building, it was clear that one of the classes had spent some time talking about octopi. (I personally prefer this oldest plural form of octopus. Who wouldn’t?) Based on the wall of fresh artwork, each child contributed their artistic interpretation of an octopus. The display was mesmerizing. It brought great joy to look at each painting as I imagined the look of concentration on the face of each artist at work. Of all the images, this one, as they say, spoke to me. Perhaps I related to the chubby shape of this one. I never thought of an octopus as having to watch their weight, but I could certainly relate. I also loved the number of limbs. Not only does this beauty have more than eight, it has the interesting number of thirteen. Not twelve or fourteen, or some other even number. Thirteen. I already love the kid who created this, even though I don’t know who they are. The kid