Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  These days, as I navigate the neighborhood, there are many big things to see. I have written about the beautiful autumn leaves. I have shared some of the yard decorations of the season as they have changed from Fall to Christmas. I mentioned the number of extra cars lining the streets as the holidays brought family and friends near. Yes, there has been lots of action and much to take in over the past two weeks. So I was a little surprised when it was this little tree that caught my eye. I think I noticed it because of the contrast. All around it, the wind was stripping the trees of their leaves, moving the landscape from life to death. But in this spot, in the middle of a lawn, something new has been born. Something new is growing. As green as Spring, this new growth is happening as the fallen leaves blow past and the temperature drops. In one way it seems oddly out of place. In another, it is a welcome sight. One of the images of this season of Advent is the image of new growth fro

As Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, it seems that in an instant the neighborhood changed from Fall to Christmas. For the most part, pumpkins and hay bales and turkeys disappeared overnight and were replaced by Grinches and Santas and reindeer. Once the Thursday feast was ended, it is as if everyone went right to work. Perhaps they put some of those visiting friends and relatives to the task of stringing lights and changing seasons. However it works, it works. I went to bed in the Fall and woke to Christmas. The contribution of this homeowner has given new meaning to the term “Christmas tree”. The Oak in their front yard is decorated with large red ornaments hanging from the perfectly trimmed boughs and branches. They sparkle in the sunshine. And, around the base of the tree, packages of varying sizes have appeared. It is simple, yet a beautiful statement of the coming celebration. In fact, I think it is the simplicity that adds to the impact. The power of giving. The beauty of givi

On Thanksgiving morning, as I wandered through the familiar streets of my neighborhood, it was unusually quiet. Few people were out walking dogs or running. But I did notice that the streets were lined with a surplus of cars, which I assumed were driven by family and friends recently arrived for a holiday visit. It was also surprisingly cold and the wind was strong. The wind carried upon it a constant supply of autumn leaves. The leaves that have been so beautiful were being quickly moved to memory. As I walked, I was amazed at how things around me were in a state of change. When I turned the corner and saw this tree, it seemed to me to represent the reality of living in an “in between” time. Half full of color, half bare, the wind was at work in its life but not yet finished. There it stood, in all its “in between” beauty. On Sunday, most Christians begin the journey called Advent. For the next few weeks we join with those who across all ages have lived in the “in between”. The people

  It is Thanksgiving Day, and it would do us well to slow down, stop, sit quietly for a moment and reflect on our lives. Even in the midst of hard times in a troubled world, we can usually find a blessing or two. At times, folks like me - and perhaps like you - can feel awkward about how blessed and privileged we may be. In other times, it takes work to pull ourselves out of the mire of poor health, economic woes, grief, anger, despair or disappointment. In either space, it is good to stop and reflect. This day, I am grateful for the beauty of creation, the love of friends, the gift of work I love and the joy of community. I am thankful that along the way of my life, I was introduced to the God who is love. What are you thankful for this day? Peace.

  Running through the heart of our neighborhood park is a beautiful creek. After a big rain, it is a raging river. Then, with a little time, it slowly returns to the peaceful stream that winds it way through our city. There are various spots in the park where there is access to the water, trails worn into the earth as countless visitors have made their way to its banks. As the leaves have turned and the winds have shaken them loose from the trees, they are beginning to form their yearly blanket of color for the banks of the creek. Gently transported by the slow current, they float until they find a place of rest. There they pause until the rains come once again, the waters rise and they make their way to the next stop on their journey. If you are in a profession such as mine, you know a bit of that feeling. From time to time across the years you get the call to a new assignment. You literally “go with the flow” to a new place and begin again. Some people really hate it, some enjoy the

  There seems to be another wave of remodeling beginning in the neighborhood. I am seeing work trucks and dumpsters and piles of debris set out on the curb for removal. In the early months of the lockdown, it seemed every block had numerous houses under renovation. Then, just as quickly, the flurry of activity seemed to stop. One of the interesting things in observing this work is recognizing the things set out for trash pickup. I like the challenge of guessing the year being upgraded. Sometimes it is easy. Carpet color is a big clue. Sometimes paint color can help one guess a date. Since all our houses were built in the 1950’s, I have a clear starting point in my guessing game. When I was a boy, this piece of discarded woodwork was very prominent. I suppose many younger people cannot even imagine a day when you had a land line phone. Or that you had just one phone. Or that it was centrally located in the house to insure no one ever had any privacy. It is fun to remember how that one p

  As I made my way through the neighborhood, I was surprised by this spectacular scene. This is not a remote location in Vermont or Maine. It is a creek winding its way through a neighborhood in the metropolitan area of Dallas, Texas. I enjoy those moments when you find yourself feeling as if you have walked into a calendar picture, don’t you? It seemed unreal. The light was hitting the trees at just the right angle. The wind was still and even the traffic noise faded away. It was a moment when I felt transported. It is a gift when life provides such a powerful experience, when we are lifted from the moment and transported to a different plane. The beauty of creation can so often provide such times. I have experienced such moments through music. I have experienced such moments through great writing. Sometimes, in the laughter and companionship of true friends, I have felt the burdens of this life lifted and left behind for a moment or two. I most often feel that way as I gather in wors

  Albert Camus wrote, “Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” Those words are becoming true of so many trees in my neighborhood. As I walk, the colors are a treat as they glow against the green and blue that surround them. Each block brings anticipation. Each block holds the chance of the surprise of color. With each passing year, I realize more fully how each day of life should be approached with a similar anticipation. Each day holds the possibility of surprise and wonder. Around the corner we may find a life-changing experience. Today might bring a friend into our life that blesses us in ways we can’t imagine. Who knows what we may discover? Who knows what we may experience? I was talking with a young friend this week about how I met a person who would come to be one of my closest friends. It was one of life’s surprises. We had never met before and were attending seminary in different parts of the country. We were both in the early years of the long process for ordi

  One of the houses I always notice on my walks is a lovely yellow house with dark green trim. It reminds me of the first house I owned. Though this one is brick and larger and much nicer, it sports the same color scheme as that little frame house long ago. Passing by reminds me of the time a friend and I painted my house. And the time, because I couldn’t afford a professional, we cut down a huge tree next to the patio. All these years later, I can’t imagine that we actually climbed high with chain saws and ropes. Even more amazing is the fact that we didn’t send chunks of tree through the roof or get injured doing something incredibly dangerous. As the leaves began to change color this Fall, something else caught my eye about this house. The tree in front is turning yellow, and a yellow very close the color of the house. I wonder how the owners arranged to have their tree be color coordinated with their home this year. It is awesome! I hope they notice. I hope they take pictures. It w

  This must be a new addition to the neighborhood, for how could I have missed something so interesting sitting atop an eight foot privacy fence along my regular route? From a distance it appeared to be something alien, or at the very least a drone, resting from a mission. Upon closer inspection, I discovered it to be a weather station. I must admit, I would have preferred something alien, but a weather station is still pretty cool. The owner of this home clearly pays attention to the weather. My guess is that they keep track of wind speed and temperature, humidity and barometric pressure. Perhaps they use the information to develop their own forecasts, comparing them to the daily reports on the local news. I wonder if this has been a longtime passion or a new interest of the owner. I wonder if gathering all this information is useful, or does it go unused. We live in a time when there is no shortage of information available to us. I have a friend who, every time a question to which ne

  Nestled among the streets of my neighborhood lies a wonderful church. The congregation converted a part of their property to a large and thriving community garden. It is nice to see the strong and sturdy brick buildings sharing space with the various planter boxes of green and growing life. They just seem to go together, a perfect pair. On this day, I noticed that a load of the basics had recently arrived. Rich, dark soil and mulch await any gardeners who find there way to some time in the garden. They can plant and work the soil. They can freshen up the planters as they prepare for winter. They can get their hands dirty and feel the sun on their face as they reconnect with God’s creation. In the second chapter of the first book of the Bible, we find a garden. It is the perfect place, a focal point in all of the creation story: “Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the grou

  One of everyone’s favorite things about this time of year is the color of changing leaves. Though unlike the area in which I grew up, which was known for brilliant displays of Fall color, my neighborhood does offer some beautiful trees that brighten the streets each autumn. Yellows and oranges seem to be the “go to” colors that paint our common landscape, and after the first cold nights of the season, things are changing. This grand tree is just beginning to change. It is going to be a brilliant red, and I am anxious to see it in full color. But there is something different about how this tree is changing. Usually the colors come in large swaths across the boughs and branches. But not this tree. Not this year. It seems to be changing in distinct spots, in spurts and sputters. The way in which the light was hitting the leaves made the red seem to be flames scattered through the canopy of leaves. It was an unusual sight. It also reminded me that change doesn’t always come all at once t

  This little tree is always in its spot. Day after day, year after year, it holds down one end of the landscaping in front of its home. But I have come to realize that I only notice it when the Holiday season arrives. Throughout the rest of the year, it is just a little tree, unimportant and uninteresting. But once October passes, it stands out to me like, well, like a Christmas tree. I find myself expecting it to be decorated when I pass, at the least to have a few ornaments or a light or two stretched around it. The coming of the holidays suddenly brings this little tree front and center. It stays the same, but I see it differently. This is true of so much of life. What we see can be determined by what we are looking for in the world, in ourselves and in others. We can rush through life, hardly noticing anything or anyone at all, only to find ourselves wondering why our lives feel so empty. We can look at anything and anyone, expecting the worst, and will seldom be disappointed. We

  The lawn is mowed. The goals are set. The ball is properly inflated and ready. The sun is up. The game awaits.  As I walked on this particular morning, approaching this yard evoked a sense of anticipation. Everything was in place. Everything was ready. The only thing missing were some players. I imagined a couple of loud, laughing children running with abandon and making the most out of the beautiful day and the opportunity to live large. I could sense the coming joy and energy. I could feel, for a moment, what it would be like to be young again. As I later looked at this photograph, I realized that it also represents each new morning, regardless of our age. Each day holds the excitement of, well, another day. There is the opportunity to live fully into each moment, full of energy and joy, even in trying circumstances. There is the opportunity to connect with others in a meaningful way. There is the opportunity for playfulness, which can lighten our load and reset our thinking. The

  As I passed this Fall display, the sun was lighting up the oranges and browns in what appeared to be a classic display of the season. Classic, until I noticed the pumpkins. I had to laugh at this little twist, this unique signature of the artist. I love the sense of playfulness evoked by the facial expressions depicted there. What a fun surprise! As I walked on, I began to think of how the holidays can bring such a wide range of emotions to us. Like the pumpkins, our faces can tell the story as the weeks run on. Some dread this time of year. It is a reminder of loss or of the unhealthiness of our relationships. Others feel so pressured to be all things to all people that the stress overwhelms. Still others will rush around to the point of exhaustion, then feel guilty that they are not as happy as they “should be” during the holidays. But some have found their way to a peace in the busy times of their lives. The scriptures point us to such a life in these words, “Finally, brothers and

  It would have been so easy to miss this interesting addition to the neighborhood. The carefully constructed structure was placed in the center of the beautifully manicured lawn. The sticks which comprised the structure were of uniform size and balanced carefully against one another. Even in the brisk wind, they supported and held the other in place. I am not sure whether this is a fairy house or a miniature teepee. But it is clear that the builder took their time. They were precise and intentional in their work. They were invested. And their intentionality made it possible for the structure to stand, to endure. What could have easily fallen victim to wind and gravity stands strong. Our lives can be a bit like this little building. We can be intentional about investing in relationships that support a healthy life. We can take the time to develop a faith with deep roots that can sustain us in the winds and storms that will inevitably come to us all. We can be intentional about who we

  As I walked through my neighborhood on this particular day, my eyes were drawn upward as I looked down the block. Something did not seem “right”. Something was going on in the tree tops down the way. Could it be some species of huge bird, out of place and lost on its long flight toward a winter home? I am always up for the unusual, so my mind raced with anticipation as I drew near. The mystery was solved when I reached the house just before the one with these particular trees. There was no giant bird or other unusual creature. There was only the remnants of a party, snagged high in a tree. Someone’s “Happy Birthday” had gotten loose. Someone’s red balloons had been set free. Well, almost loose. Almost free. They were snagged as they were so close to their freedom. Now they will live on the edge of the sky. Is there anything worse than feeling stuck? Is there anything as bad as being so close to where we want to be and then, at the last minute, being snagged by what we are working so

  These guys seem to know where they are going. Or, that is the impression I get every time I see a flock of birds headed across the sky. Together, birds can cover vast areas on their migratory routes, apparently always ending up where they intend to go. No map. No GPS. They just know. If only it were so easy for us humans. We don’t just know. We make decisions and choices throughout our lives as we try to make it to our destination. If we can decide what our destination is first! We live in this wonderful burden of free will. We are always having to decide. In Joshua we read, “And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” We may not know all the details we wish to know, but all our choices can be to follow Gods way. We can be true to the life of love and grace. We can be

  As I stepped out into the cool Fall air, I was greeted with the brilliant blue sky and these lingering contrails from various planes. It was striking, the grand blue canvas with the white stripes. When I was a boy, I was always fascinated by these signs in the sky. I did not fly on a plane until I was in college, so the idea of being up there, in route to somewhere else, was very exotic and mysterious. I would imagine where the plane was headed and what the people were planning to do when they arrived. I imagined the food. I imagined it was all quite exciting. Most of the time we know where we want to go. That is not the problem, is it? The challenge is getting there. How do we chart the course for our future? To what extent can we chart that course? Where do we find direction? As I looked at that beautiful sky, I thought of the words of Jesus, that simple invitation that changes everything: “follow me”. Even when we are unsure of where we are going, we can follow him. Even when we c

  As I passed by on a bright fall morning, the colors of the landscaping of this house was brilliant. Yellows, purples, reds and greens lined the walk- all glowing in the sunlight. I admit I stopped for a few minutes and took it in. This yard seemed a celebration of life, a song of creation. The Psalmist writes, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it …” All around us we have signs of God and God’s presence. The beauty of flowers that paint the weary landscape. The beauty of the human race in all its variety and wonder. The breath of life and the infinite heavens. Yes, we can see God everyday, if we have eyes to see. I catch a glimpse of God from time to time in all these things. But I especially see God in the loving, selfless acts that grace my life by those who love me. Unmerited and impossible to repay, like the grace of God they are a gift. In fact, they are the grace of God to me. I am grateful. May we have eyes to see the fullness of cre

  This is a sight that always makes me sad. I understand that at times trees have lived out there years. I know that homeowners have various reasons for cutting down a tree, no judgement there. But it still makes me sad. I can’t help but think of all the time that has passed since this tree first took root. I think of the people who have passed by on their walks. I imagine the children that have played under the shade it afforded. I pause and consider how the world has changed while such a tree stood its silent watch. If only the tree could talk. Time rolls relentlessly on, does it not? We look at our children and wonder when they grew to be so big. In conversation we hear a year mentioned and it seems impossible that year was so long ago. We mark birthdays and are amazed that we are the age we have become; overnight, it seems, we became our parents. Time does, indeed, roll on. We read in scripture, “But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousan

  As I walk my neighborhood, I am always impressed with this side yard. It couldn’t be more welcoming. Five different seats, of all shapes and sizes, welcome all who pass by. Children or adult, there is a seat that would accommodate. I always want to stop and rest a while. I always wonder if anyone would join me. I always wonder if I could rest and feel at home. Recently our choir sang a setting of Isaac Watts version of Psalm 23. To me, it speaks of finding rest to my heart as does no other poem. 1 My Shepherd, you supply my need, most holy is your name; in pastures fresh you make me feed, beside the living stream. You bring my wand'ring spirit back. when I forsake your ways; you lead me, for your mercy's sake, in paths of truth and grace. 2 When through the shades of death I walk, your presence is my stay; one word of your supporting breath drives all my fears away. Your hand in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread; my cup with Blessings overflows, your oil anoint