Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

  As I stepped outside I was confronted with these beautiful roses. My first thought was, “When did this happen?” I am certain these weren’t in bloom the day before. Or were they? I do know that I have done nothing to care for these rose bushes since last year. They have not been fertilized. They have not been trimmed. They have not been tended in any way after being exposed through all the winter’s freezing weather. Yet here they are, strong and beautiful as ever. The word that came to my mind was resilient. These are tough roses. They endure. They take all Mother Nature has to give and come back to share their beauty once more. It seems to me that this is a big part of what makes them beautiful. From what appears to be nothing more than a tangle of dead thorns, the most beautiful of flowers bloom again. I have known some people like this along the way of my journey. They have endured hard times. They have weathered many storms. At times their lives have seemed nothing more than a...

  My phone holds more photographs than I can sift through in any meaningful way. As I have moved from phone to phone across the years, somehow the magic works and they go with me. Over the past two years, the number of photos taken each week has grown considerably. As I capture an image, I begin to think about what it says to me and how I might share my reflections in a meaningful way. You might be able to imagine my surprise at this photograph as I sat down to write this morning. It seems to be a perfect image of, well, nothing. What was I trying to capture when I took this picture? Where was I? How did I not notice my failure and delete this shot immediately? As I chose a photo each morning, how did this blank shot go unnoticed? So this morning I find myself wondering. I wonder what had captured my attention so as to warrant a photo. I wonder if I took a picture of something serene and peaceful or funny and wild. I wonder if that photo was my best photo yet. I wonder. Why am I ob...

  We live in a culture obsessed with big things. Big sports arenas and stadiums. Big houses. Big trucks. Big churches. Big bank accounts. Big celebrations. Big plans. Big meals. Big is not bad, but our obsession with big can cause us to miss out on some amazing things. As I walked along on this sunny afternoon, I was taking in all there was to see in my neighborhood. I had almost passed this house and moved on to the next when I just happened to look down and notice these small flowers. They were in a bed with much taller plants and flowers, which I had seen from a distance. I am grateful they caught my eye; they were the most beautiful flowers in the garden. These little flowers gave me pause. How many blessings do we miss because our eyes are only searching for big? Small things are not necessarily insignificant, just as big things are not necessarily better. Little flowers. A quiet moment in the chaos of the day. A few words shared with someone special. A brief nap when we are t...

  After overcast skies and thunder storms, the moon finally manages to break through and shine into the night. I find it interesting how, after a brief absence, the moon seems so bright, brighter than I remember. Even with the street lights, the moon shines through. The Psalmist writes that the sun, moon and stars are reminders to us as we plow through our days and weeks and months and years. “To him who made the great lights, for his steadfast love endures forever; the sun to rule over the day, for his steadfast love endures forever; the moon and stars to rule over the night, for his steadfast love endures forever”. Each time we see the sun, we should celebrate the wonderful news that God’s “steadfast love endures forever.” Each time we take in the stars stretched across the sky, we should recall that God’s “steadfast love endures forever.” But my favorite is the moon. The moon reminds me that God’s “steadfast love endures forever”, even in the dark of night. Sometimes the moon se...

  After over two years of writing and reflecting on the little things that I find on my walks, I have begun to notice some interesting changes from time to time as I cover the streets. This house has a new color on the trim. That tree has a new swing. This yard has added a sprinkler system. That is a different car in the driveway. That fence has been stained. So many little things that capture my attention after so many trips down the sidewalks of the neighborhood. As I passed this small garden, I did a double take as I saw out of the corner of my eye what appeared to be a small dinosaur going for my ankle. Hidden in the rocks, it had a prime position from which to attack anyone walking by. As I paused, laughing, to take a picture, I realized I knew this dinosaur. I had seen it before. I had written about it before. This creature usually stood watch on a picnic table back further in the yard, surrounded by a few other planters of various shapes and sizes. I suppose it just needed a...

  I always look forward to passing this house on my walks during the weeks of Spring. The homeowner chose to dedicate part of their lawn to wildflowers. A bold move, and one I enjoy each year. On this particular afternoon, I happened to pass by as the shadows of sunset fell upon the blue bonnets. I was struck by the two level contrast. On one level there was the sharp line between the manicured lawn and the wildflowers. And, due to the perfect timing of my passing, there was the contrast between shadow and light. It seems to me that this image captures the nature of life fairly well. Life is not all sunshine, nor is it all shadow. Even in the shadow, the beauty remains. We may not see it as clearly, or at times we may not see it at all, but the blue bonnets still bloom. Then the earth turns again and the light returns. When we are in the shadow, it is easy to forget that the light will shine again. Call it faith, call it hope, call it optimism; whatever we call it we need to rememb...

  As I walked one of the lovely blocks in my neighborhood, I found this trimmer lying perfectly parallel to the sidewalk. It is all clean and intact, no missing parts. This tool has obviously been well cared for by the owner. The lawn of the home is well ahead of most of their neighbors. It is already thick and green. The grass had been freshly mowed and perfectly edged. I could not help but think that the trimmer was just taking a break in the shade after a job well done. Like a character in the animated version of “Beauty and the Beast”, I imagined that at any moment it would spring to life and dance away. Sometimes people can be a bit like this trimmer. They look perfectly fine to all who pass by. They do not look broken or worn out or used up, but they are, or they feel that they are. Though their lawns are green and their edges trimmed, they are tired and exhausted. The prophet Jeremiah writes, “For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.” I...