Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

It seems to me that there is more color to enjoy this year as I walk around the church grounds. Of course, it could just be that it seems so after many cold, cloudy and rainy days. For whatever reason, the combination of the bright sun, the clear blue sky and the colors of the leaves seem dramatic and astounding these mornings. A gift of beauty for the receiving. It always struck me as interesting that we find trees most beautiful in the Spring when the leaves first appear in that brilliant, bright green, and then again when the leaves are dead and close to falling to the ground in the Fall. We focus our admiration on the beginning and the end. For that long stretch of the year in the middle, we usually take the trees for granted, hardly noticing them at all. We humans are great at celebrating births and we are great at celebrating lives at death, but we sometimes can fall into the trap of taking the middle for granted. Every day in the middle is worthy of celebration. The gift of life...

This little friend decided to pause and stare at me as long as I was willing to pause and stare at him. It was a beautiful moment of silence and calm and peace. I'm not sure how long we enjoyed each other's presence, but it seemed like quite a good while. I sensed no fear at all in this deer. Of course, I was on his turf and was armed with only my phone. I was driving when I spotted him, so I pulled over and parked. I thought he would rush back into the woods before I could take a photograph. What a pleasant surprise it was. Sometimes surprises burst into our life loud and big, like a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" at a surprise party or in a humming crowd at some huge event. But at other times, surprises slip into our consciousness, subtle and understated. A deer at the edge of the woods. A card with words of love when you need it most. The smile of a friend long missed. A feeling of peace when life is anything but peaceful. In fact, it may be that those quiet...

The cold temperatures have helped to load the trees around the church with bright red berries. I Know that the holiday season is upon us when I notice this colorful change. The sunset makes the berries glow against the big blue sky and they seem to join the cupola in reaching toward heaven. As this week calls us to be particularly intentional in regards to gratitude, I pause to think of that for which I am grateful. We are always, I hope, aware of the big things that bless our lives. Health. Family. Friends. Home. Work. Faith. Love. This year I am aware of so many little things. A good night of sleep. A text from a far away friend when you feel alone. The cold, crisp air on a morning walk. The feeling that you are being prayed for and loved by people who will never be known by name. The gift of laughter in the darkest of days. A sense of God nearby. As I ponder my list of little things, I come to realize that they are, in fact, the big things. These "little things" give the ...

As the sun began to rise on Sunday morning, the frost was so heavy that it appeared, for a moment, that the lawn was covered with a dusting of snow. It was beautiful. It was also fleeting. Once the sun was high, the frost disappeared, even though the temperature was still unusually cold for this time of year. My mentor in the ministry told the story of a man he met when my friend was serving his first appointment. When going around the circle in Bible study one day, each member shared the verse that meant the most to them. When it came to this particular man, he explained that his favorite verse was a phrase that appears throughout the Bible. That phrase was, "And it came to pass". These were his favorite words because they assured him that whatever he was facing in life, it would pass. This day was not the final word. What a comfort to know that as our life moves forward, things come and things go. That is why we should treasure the blessings and hold fast to hope in the str...

  I came across this interesting tree the other morning. I was immediately transported back to my childhood and one of my favorite boyhood books, “My Side of the Mountain”. It was about a boy who went off by himself to live in the woods and to find everything he needed provided by nature. I don’t recall how many times I read that book in my elementary school years, but it was plenty. As I recall, he made his home in a tree that had a natural door, much like this one. I dreamed of following in his footsteps and doing the same in the woods behind my house. I never did. Home comes in all kinds of versions. Opulent mansions. Simple cabins. Modest middle-sized houses. Some people have the amazing ability to create home even when they are without a physical home. There are heroes who keep family together through tough transitions and the hardest of times. They commit to staying connected. They love one another. They are accountable to each other as they lift up the heart of what it means...

  As I walked into the rising sun on this beautiful morning, a splash of color caught my eye. At first I assumed it was a bird flashing through the trees along my path. Upon closer inspection, I discovered a glimpse of the future. It is late September, and even though it is warm and the season exceptionally dry, Fall is still coming. What I really caught out of the corner of my eye was a preview of what lies ahead; the beauty of the colors of autumn in the mountains. Sometimes a little glimpse of the future can get us through all manner of situations. A day without pain gives us hope for a future of health. The marking of an anniversary of a great loss helps us embrace the thought of life where the memories are still precious but bring as many smiles as tears. A kind word when we need it most makes it possible to see the world the way God intends it to be. We read in the Revelation, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain...

  On this early morning walk along a lovely forest-lined lane, I came upon this tree that had fallen, but not fallen. Obviously a recent strong wind had sent the dead and rotted trunk askew, snapping it off near the ground. But the springy, live trees around it caught it in their arms and would not let it fall all the way to the ground. So here it leans, fallen but not fallen, keeping watch over all who pass. Here it leans, in its place, as always. As for us humans, it is the lucky few who experience such friendship in their lives. It is the lucky few who, when the storms knock them down, find themselves safe in the arms of those who had always been nearby. Like this tree, some know the blessing of being held close in the hardest of times. The apostle Paul writes, “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is w...