Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  As I walked past the neighborhood school to check out the courtyard garden of sunflowers, I noticed this little one standing watch. I apparently caught her on break because she was seriously working on breakfast. She was so focused that my presence did not seem to make the slightest difference. This little one was doing what they were created to do and seemed very much at peace. This was one squirrel that was living into being a squirrel. That is the challenge for all of us, to live fully into who we are created to be. That is where we will find peace in this troubled world. This is how we will find our way to change this troubled world. Only as we strive to live fully into our own calling can we sow the seeds of the Jesus life into the lives of others. We read in the letter to the Ephesians these words: “As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. M

  As I walked around the construction site at my church, I came upon this interesting scene. Just outside one of the doors, someone had spilled a good amount of paint from its five gallon bucket. The loose paint had not spread too far in the extreme heat. It appears to have dried quickly into a thick pad that glued the bucket to the sidewalk. I wondered why whoever spilled the paint had not bothered to try to clean it up. Then I realized the futility of trying to get that paint back into the bucket. It was out there and out there it would be. The one who spilled it just walked away, perhaps waiting until it was dry to try to clean the sidewalk. I was reminded of the power of our words and how, once they are out there, they are so hard to take back. The Bible contains a lot of words about words. “If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless.” “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such

  One of the best aspects of walking through my neighborhood is being able to enjoy the number of trees. This never grows old to me. There are trees of numerous varieties, sizes and shapes. Some have been there long before the neighborhood was built in 1957. Others came with the houses. Still others are new, replacing ones lost with the passing of time. As I walked on this particular street on this particular morning, I particularly enjoyed these three trees. They are of three different species and three different heights and three different shades of green. They are as different as they can be. Yet, when I passed and looked back, they seemed to blend into one tree. The distinctive nature of each was still evident and beautiful, but the commonality of being trees became more important than the differences. Together, they struck me as even more beautiful than each did on their own. It is strange that we spend so much of our time with only those who look like us and think like us when th

As I walked by a house that was being remodeled, this old organ was out in the yard underneath a tree. I suppose the previous owners had cleared everything out when they left, save for this instrument. The workers had to clear it out in order to get on with their tasks. I could not help but wonder if the organ still played. Then I imagined who had played it in the past. I pictured children taking lessons. I saw a parent playing as a family gathered around and sang together. I could picture someone, in rare moments alone, playing and relaxing, lost in the fun of making music. I wondered if this organ could make music again. It was old and dirty and, it seems, forgotten. Yet, somehow I sensed that there was music still within, just waiting for another chance to be heard. I have a friend that brings new life to instruments such as these. It is a beautiful thing. The Psalmist writes, “Oh sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth! Sing to the Lord, bless his name; tell of

  In the middle of a long run of 109 degree days, and an even longer run of dry weather, we had a brief shower. It didn’t last long and it wasn’t substantial in terms of the amount of precipitation, but it was such a welcome break from the monotony of the heat wave. As I walked across the parking lot in the aftermath of the shower, the sun was just beginning to burn its way back through the clouds. The water had not yet evaporated from the sizzling concrete. In the middle of this harsh summer, the scene, however fleeting, appeared to me to be a snapshot of the word “refresh”. The prophet Jeremiah writes, “For I satisfy the weary ones and refresh everyone who languishes.” We can sometimes be in need of refreshing. We can sometimes feel that our lives are parched and dry. We can sometimes feel lost in a desert, beaten down by the sun and heat of a harsh time in life. That is when we need to remember these words that speak of God’s loving care for us. We will not languish forever. There i

  After a brutal run of days with temperatures at 109, every living thing seemed to be showing the effects of the relentless heat. These two flowers, side by side, are in different conditions. Though only inches apart and receiving water from the same irrigation system, the flower on the right is completely and utterly fried. It appears as if it has been dipped in the boiling oil of a fryer and then planted in the garden. It appears that, if touched, it would crumble into dust. The flower on the left has faired differently. Oh, it has a touch of brown on a leaf here and there. The color of the bloom is not as vibrant as it was once. But it is very much alive. It is holding its own against the harsh weather. We can find ourselves feeling like one or the other of these flowers at different times in our lives. Sometimes the circumstances feel as if they are winning. We can find ourselves ”fried” by the harsh conditions of life. Poor health. Financial stress. Difficult relationships. Disap

  This scene tells a story. Or, at least, it inspires me to imagine one. In this house lives a little boy or girl. This child loves to play with a ball. From early in their life, they particularly loved the game of basketball. As a toddler they enjoyed the small goal on the left. It started out in the living room, set at the lowest height. Little by little the child improved. Little by little the goal was raised higher. Soon it moved outside to the driveway. Finally, the little goal was too small. It was an exciting day, perhaps a Christmas morning, when the child was led out to the driveway for the surprise of the big goal on the right. It, too, started out on the lowest setting. As the child grew, the goal was raised and the skill set was perfected. Now the child is a teenager and plays for their school. The two basketball goals mark their growing up through the years. The two basketball goals stand as a reminder of the journey. In the Bible, the people often built themselves reminde

  We are currently in the midst of a long stretch of 100 plus degree days. It is a brutal Texas summer. Even with irrigation, you get the feeling that every green and growing thing is barely hanging on to life. There is no end in sight as flowers burn up in the blazing sun. As I walked down the sidewalk, I came upon this pleasant surprise. A delicate little flower, new and beautiful. For a moment, the oppressive heat was forgotten. There was only this moment that seemed stolen from Spring, when the colors of the flowers have yet to fade and the green has not yet been stressed by the heat. It was a gift. One thing I have noticed over these couple of years of walking is how, in spite of everything that may be going on in the world or going on in a life, there are moments of beauty and power along the way. There are things and people and opportunities that remind us of God’s presence and of our connection to God and to one another. When teaching about God and living in relationship with G

  Well, I did not have to spend too much time in between celebration announcements from our friendly neighborhood dinosaur. Apparently it is time to go to camp. As the sun beat down and baked everything in sight, the idea of heading to the lake sounded pretty good. “Trails”, “Lake”, “Picnic” - it all sounded so good to me on this hot summer morning. Not sure we need the campfire, but are there many things more fun than a fire at night at camp? I think people enjoy camping because it is such a departure from our everyday lives. Most of us are so comfortable. We live in luxury. We live in climate controlled bliss. We live with easy to prepare food and convenient access to anything we desire at any time. Life is, all in all, fairly easy for most of us. But when we are away from the conveniences, when we have to plan ahead and make do with what we have with us, life gets interesting. When there is no internet and no delivery and when the nearest store is mikes away, we seem to slow down an

  On this early morning, against a perfect blue sky, I heard the strong and joyful singing of a single bird. The song was so loud that I sought out the singer, but to no avail. I stopped and searched in every tree and bush. The notes kept drawing my eyes higher and higher until I finally saw it. Perched high atop a utility pole, higher than the surrounding trees, the bird performed for all to hear. It was a recital of joy for all who were blessed enough to pass by at that particular moment. The Psalmist writes , “Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.” I thought of this image of birds in the Temple, at home in the holy place. In their own way they served their creator. I like to think this bird was singing as if in worship, praising God for life, for the morning, for the beauty of the earth. The sky was the Temple and the pole the high altar. The beautiful song the sacrifice of

  One of the fun aspects of walking in my neighborhood is that you truly never know what you might happen upon. It is not every day, and not just in any neighborhood, that one can see a kettle drum trying to get someone to answer the door. Or, perhaps it is a timpani trying to make a quick, early morning exit. Either way, it was an interesting sight to behold on a recent morning. The scriptures tell us that, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” It is the nature of the life of faith to be looking for what we have not seen and to be listening for news that will be unlike anything else we have heard before. The life of faith is a life of imagination, always open to new ways of thinking and new ways of being. So isn’t it interesting that we spend so much of our time thinking we have seen it all and heard it all and done it all? Why do we lose that sense of adventure and wonder about what the day may hold or what gifts m

  If you have walked with me over these past 500+ posts, you recognize my friend. The neighborhood dinosaur always advertises and celebrates the events of the year. Valentine’s Day. Easter. The beginning of summer. July 4th. Back to school. Christmas. This friendly reptile shares with one and all the big days and events that are happening in the culture. On my most resent visit to its home in cul-de sac, I noticed my friend unadorned. This was a reminder that we are in a moment of in between. We are in between holidays. We are in between school years. We are in between problems and solutions. I couldn’t help but think how peaceful this dinosaur seems while it waits in the in between. How nice it would be to live in that space. Content with what has gone before and confident in what lies ahead. Living life, not just in the celebrations and the drama, but in all the moments in between. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do n

  I had the opportunity to fly down and connect with a group of our youth and adults leaders doing mission work in Baton Rouge. I joined them for dinner and then a trip to enjoy beignets before evening devotions. As we came out of the restaurant, the sunset was beautiful. We enjoyed the moment together as we paused in the parking lot. Then we loaded the vans and headed back to the church. As we set at a traffic light, my friend and leader of the trip pointed out the amazing reflection of that sunset in the rear windows of the van in front of us which carried the other half of our group. It was indeed spectacular. It was an exact reflection of the evening sky, framed perfectly. What is it that our life reflects so clearly? Do we reflect love and compassion into the world? Do we reflect hope and faith? Do we reflect Jesus in the ways we see one another and the ways we treat one another? We read in the letter to the Ephesians that we are “to put on the new self, created after the likeness

  As you know, when I walk, I share what I find along the way. What I find has covered a broad multitude of different things. Sometimes I find things that have been intentionally created, placed or shared. At other times, I find things that serendipitously appear organically. The fun of my trips through the neighborhood is the anticipation of what I might find there. On this particular morning I was stopped by the image of something that was not there. Though the large tree that stood in this yard has been long gone, the yard still reveals what is missing. The grass has not taken over. The lawn hasn’t absorbed the loss. What is not there still looms large in this space. Our hearts can feel this way at times. Sometimes all we can see is what is not there, instead of all that is. Some losses are long lasting indeed. We keep waiting for the grass to take over that empty spot, we wait for the loss to be absorbed by the passing years of our life. Yet it remains the thing we see, even though

  I always look forward to the house with the white picket fence. Children live there, so there are many signs of life to enjoy. It is a lovely home on a corner lot. And the yard is always adorned with beautiful flowers. This image struck me as particularly beautiful today. I love the way the flowers seem to be breaking free from the confines of the yard. They seem to be escaping into the larger world, their beauty too great to be contained. It is as if they are trying to reach out and touch each person who passes by on the sidewalk. And, in a way, they do. Isn’t it interesting how, in a culture where we constantly go for big and seem to overindulge in almost everything, it is so often the simple things that touch our hearts? A homemade card or handwritten note. Hearing from a friend unexpectedly. An act of kindness when we need it the most. Children at play. A sunrise. A flower. A smile. All these things, and countless others, are ways that beauty is trying to break into our world a

  As I walk my neighborhood, I am always looking down the alleys that divide each block. I love them because they look like little country lanes in the middle of a Dallas suburb. No matter how hot the day, they appear cool and inviting. They always seem to be inviting me to take a detour and explore. This particular alley on this particular morning was especially intriguing. The shadows and the angle of the sun created the image of moving from darkness to light. It appears that just around the corner the light has dawned. If I could just make it around the corner, I could see the day in an entirely new way. If I could just make it around the corner, I could leave the darkness and the shadows and walk in the light. Life can feel that way sometimes. We have enough hope to keep looking forward. We have enough faith to believe the light has come. But the light always seems just out of sight, just around the corner. It seems illusive, as if we are always chasing and never arriving. This ima

  Looking back, one of the things that has made my life the adventure I have so enjoyed is that I have felt there was always something fun or funny or challenging around the next turn. My life seems to have been full of intersections and choices. My life has always felt as if I had options. The options came with varying degrees of risk, and demands, but in themselves the choices inspired and energized. I realize now that not all people live with such a sense of adventure and options. Age. Gender. Ethnicity. Sexual orientation. Race. Economic status. Religion. For many, the sense of adventure and options some of us enjoy is replaced by a sense of marginalization and hopelessness. Life can come to feel like the sign- “No Outlet”. I can’t imagine looking at the future as a dead end. I can’t imagine feeling that I did not have the same choices as the next person. I fear that would crush my spirit. I fear I would lose hope. I see this sign every day I walk the neighborhood. I suppose it was

  As a person who grew up in a place of hot weather, there are some timeless signs of summer that are forever in my mind. The brief moments in the morning before the temperature climbs. The heat that builds throughout the day and into the night. The sight and sounds of certain summer insects. And, of course, the sprinkler. It was always a treat when we were allowed to play in the sprinkler. And we could play for hours. Running and jumping, creating games and challenges as we played. It cooled us off and passed the time, all while watering the parched grass. To this day the sight and sounds of sprinklers transport me back to that simpler, more carefree time. Water is essential to life. The scriptures are full of images of water. Water refreshes. Water washes. Water quenches our thirst. Water symbolizes birth and new life. Jesus taught that he offered living water, water that would never stop refreshing our souls and quenching our thirst. In fact, Jesus said, “Whoever believes in me, as

  Of all the homes in my wonderful neighborhood, there is one that is guaranteed to make me smile each time I pass. This family marks every holiday and special occasion with a unique display. On my walk, our friendly neighborhood dinosaur reminds me that it is July 4th. The streets are lined with American flags, block after block. There will be cookouts and parties and lots of giggling kids in swimming pools. Hopefully, there will be a few moments throughout the day when we all think on both the blessings and the challenges of our moment in American history. We live in terribly divided times. It seems that each of our political factions think only in terms of “winning”. Winning, not only in terms of elections, but in every detail of opinion and practice. It seems that what we have lost sight of in these times is the idea of our country “winning”, of solutions and decisions that move us all forward in the pursuit of the highest of our ideals. This is my prayer for this July 4th, that we

  As I walk out of this week of service and fun with our senior high mission team, there are many things I will pack and bring with me as we make our way back home. We met people whose faithfulness to their urban ministry was inspiring. We met people who have stories very different from our own. We heard testimonies of God’s presence with people through loss, homelessness, prison and poverty. We worshiped with new friends and felt quite at home because of their hospitality and welcoming spirit. We were blessed to experience God in the beauty of nature in those hours we were not at work. We ate together and prayed together and laughed together and cried together. Physical labor did us all some good. To sweat and plan and execute tasks together drew us closer. The beautiful church building soaring to the sky represents well my experience this week. I found hope in the work and the people we met. I saw God all around, in so many different ways. I hope to continue to see God in everyone I