Zone of Totality

      Our original plan to view the eclipse: Monday morning Cyndi and I were going to drive to Mansfield, Texas, (since it was in the Zone of Totality, a phrase I love to repeat and possibly my favorite takeaway from the entire event), watch the eclipse with the girls, then drive back home Monday evening.

      It was a plan that called for ten hours of Interstate driving, a highway predicted to be swollen with eclipse traffic, and required Cyndi to find several substitute teachers for her Monday yoga classes (a chore more difficult than the long commute). Neither of those were things we looked forward to, but which we were willing do to see the eclipse with family.

      The deciding factor that changed our plan was something completely out of our control. Most of the Zone of Totality, including Mansfield, was expecting cloud cover and rain during the event. We decided to stay in Midland, Texas, where the eclipse was calculated to cover 92% of the sun and the forecast was for clear skies.

      Starting Monday at noon I set my phone timer to go off every 15 minutes. When I heard the chime, I went outside into our front yard and watched the sun for a few minutes through my cardboard eclipse glasses. Soon Cyndi came home and joined me, along with our westside neighbors who were on a similar watch schedule. We kept up the pattern until 2:45. It was phenomenal to see the eclipse actually happening.

      Were we happy with our decision to stay in Midland? Well, I’m sure we would have loved seeing the eclipse in its Totality, and had we driven to Mansfield I have no doubts we would have felt it was worth the trouble. But we didn’t. However, we saw a 92% eclipse, and it was worth it. We have so few common awe-inspiring events we can all share together, and I enjoyed knowing we were sharing this moment with people all across the country.

      Solar eclipses are not rare occurrences like some doomsayers wanted us to believe. They’re visible from some place on the Earth’s surface approximately once every 18 months (on average). Of course, since 72% of the Earth’s surface is ocean, most eclipses aren’t observed by very many people. They are, however, rare for specific places. The mean frequency for a total eclipse at any given point on the Earth's surface is once in 375 years. For example, the last total eclipse over Dallas, Texas was October 23, 1623, about 401 years ago.

      I’m impressed with mankind’s ability to calculate the positions of the earth, moon, and sun so accurately, and it makes me happy that we take such complicated math for granted. Rough calculations of eclipses were made as early as 150 A.D., based on the work by Claudius Ptolemy, and diagrams of eclipses have been found in medieval manuscripts.

      My biggest surprise from the partial eclipse in Midland was how bright it was outside. I was surprised that with only 8% of the sun showing daylight was only slightly diminished. I doubt if it would’ve been noticed by anyone if we hadn’t been expecting it.

      I recently finished a set of Bible study lessons from the New Testament book of Ephesians, chapters 4 and 5, about light and dark, and how our impact on the world can be huge. Ephesians 5:8-13 says, “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9 (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness, and truth) … everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light.” 

      The Apostle Paul, author of Ephesians, wasn’t talking physics or astronomy, but comparing light and darkness to good and evil. He pointed out that because God is light, as we embrace His dramatic transformation, we will find ourselves shining as lights in a world that loves darkness.

      He asked us to commit to living every day so as to reflect the light of God that is in us. And as I learned on Monday, we don’t have to be totally visible to light up the world around us. We can make a big difference shining the light we have inside us.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

A Call To Action

 *  *  *  *  *
This is an excerpt from my book, Practicing Faith.
The two granddaughters are now ages 14 and 11.
*  *  *  *  *

       One Saturday Cyndi and I rendezvoused with our daughter, Katie, in Abilene, halfway between our house in Midland and Katie’s house in Mansfield. Katie handed off her own two daughters, Madden (age four) and Landry (age one), and what seemed to be three hundred pounds of baby gear. The girls were going to spend a week with their Gran and Pops.

      I don’t need to go into detail how busy it was for us as we tried to remember how we used to take care of little kids, balancing our time with the girls and our full lives. We were much better thirty years ago; we seemed to have lost our edge, and a few strategic skills, during those years.

      However, It was great, and we finished the week looking forward to next summer’s visit.

      Of course, since I went to my office to work during the day, Cyndi spent the most time with the girls. The only time I had them to myself was each evening while she taught yoga classes. Cyndi took them to play with Pattie’s two grandsons, to swimming lessons, to the Children’s Museum, to the water park in Andrews, and everywhere else. I’m sure she has more stories and insights than me … but she’ll have to write her own story to tell about all that.

      It was only one week, so we dedicated all available time and energy to being with the girls. I didn’t do any of the things I regularly did while Cyndi taught her evening classes - run, bike, or go to the gym - the entire week. I kept remembering something I’d read from Dr. Leo Cooney, founder and director of the Section of Geriatrics at the Yale School of Medicine, who wrote, “If you have to decide between going to the gym or being with your grandchildren, I’d choose the grandchildren.” Done. Thanks, Dr. Cooney.

      So instead of all those workouts, I had conversations like this …

      “Look girls, Gran made us Neelix Rolls, a family favorite” “Pops, can I have another cinnamon roll?” “What would your mom say?” “Well, what do you say?” “Sure. Here you go.”

      “Pops, do you know how to skip?” “Not anymore.”

      “Pops, can you read this book to me?” while holding a copy of Confessions, by St. Augustine. “Come back in twenty years.”

      “Here is another sticker for your shirt. Pops. It’s a sparkle star.” “Thanks. It looks great on my black polo.”

      “Hey Pops, what does a Monarch Butterfly say?” “African or European?”

      “Do you have Hello Kitty on your phone?” “Not since Gran made me take it off. She said I was wasting too much time.”

      “Pops, will you fix my hair?” as we walked into church Sunday morning. I had already brushed it, foolishly thinking that was enough. Later, when it became clear to her that I had no idea how to fix her hair the way she imagined it, “Call Gran on your phone so she can come fix my hair.”

      “Cyndi, do you think it would be OK if I took the girls on a bike ride if they sit in the trailer?” “No. Landry is only one year old. She’s too small; she’ll tumble over on her head.” “Besides that part, would it be OK? What if I found a bike helmet?” “No.”

      At Chic-fil-A … “Hey Madden, are you big enough get me a refill?” “Yes.” “Do you know where to go?” “To the counter.” “Do you know what I want?” “Diet Coke.” “Good girl.”

      "When will this race ever be done, Pops?"  while sitting my lap watching the Tour de France. “In three weeks.” “That’s too long.”

      “Cyndi, how do you feel about putting a baby on the floor to finish off all the bits of carrots she threw down, because Landry seems to enjoy her second helping?” (I should add I didn’t put her down for this specific reason, the girl just loves to be on the floor. She found the food on her own and cleaned it up before I could get to it. Good girl.)

      When I was young, I spent a significant part of each summer at my grandparents’ house. I remember my grandmother telling me, “You can’t catch a fish if they hear you talking.” Silly me, I thought she was giving me fishing advice. She just wanted me to be quiet for a bit. It makes more sense to me now that I’m a grandparent myself.

      Here’s the thing. A huge spiritual root in my life grew from the time I spent with my grandparents. They invested their lives and faith in me, and I benefit from that still, fifty years later. That sort of impact is what I’m hoping for, with the granddaughters in our house.

      Babies are stuck with the family they fall in to. It is up to us to rise to the occasion, just like my parents and grandparents did, and live lives of honor and grace and gratitude. Holding Madden and Landry was another call to action for me. I’m hoping for lots more opportunities.

*  *  *  *  *
“I run in the path of Your commands,
for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32
*  *  *  *  *

A Long Reengagement

      I read on my Facebook Memories that we attended the Instrumental Convergence in Tyler, Texas, March 19, 2016. Traveling to Tyler was my first band trip since the 1979 Orange Bowl, and seeing the post brought back a cascade of memories.

      Our clinician and director for the Instrumental Convergence, Camp Kirkland, quoted from the 1981 movie, Chariots of Fire, about Eric Liddell, the Olympic runner who later served as a missionary in China until dying in a Japanese internment camp in 1945. In the movie, Liddell told his sister: “I believe God made me for a purpose. For China. But He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” Camp regretted that most people stop quoting the movie at that point, but Liddell actually went on to say, “To give it up would be to hold Him in contempt.”

      It isn’t enough that we feel His pleasure … we’re obligated to give back to God what he has given to us. Poet Jane Kenyon said it well when she wrote that we should “be good stewards of our gifts.”

      Partly because of what Camp said, I reengaged with music and trombone about that time. Not that I ever quit playing in FBC orchestra or MC Jazz Band, but more of an emotional leaning in. I even started taking lessons again, something I hadn’t done since high school.

      I’ve been playing trombone continuously since 1968 when I was in beginner band (so this is my 56th year). It’s longer than I’ve done any activity other than riding a bicycle. But without difficult challenges I got lazy and complacent as a musician. So on my list of 100 Life Goals I included, “Learn to play jazz trombone,” which was not specific enough, but shows this has been on my mind for long time.

      I eventually decided my fear of standing up and playing a solo was less important than my fear of missing out and wishing I’d tried. So I started saying “Yes” whenever a call went out for soloists.

      I suppose it’s about transparency, vulnerability, and the willingness to be a beginner. Am I willing to fail in public the first 200 times I try this, in hopes that someday I’ll be good? Maybe if I knew the payoff was guaranteed it would be an easy decision, but like all significant things, there are no guarantees. I might fail 200 times and not improve at all. So, once again, I have to step out in faith if I want to learn this.

      In the book, Wilderness Wisdom, there is a quote by David Lloyd George: “Don’t be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated. You can’t cross a chasm in two small jumps.” I wrote in the margin of my book: “Incremental change doesn’t always work.” Sometimes I have to take the giant leap.

      So many adventures happen like that. Somebody is brave and takes a leap forward, a couple more people follow along, we’re brave together, and next thing you know your life is permanently changed. Your vision for musical ministry is blown apart, and you’re playing killer music with powerhouse musicians in your home church with your wife sitting on the second row radiating joy and pride.

      I’m almost 68 years old now; it makes me proud that I can still attempt new things. I never dreamed I would be playing with musicians this talented in this season of life. It makes me happy … this music. It feeds my heart.

            Here is a text I sent to Rabon, my musical sensei, after a concert where we played with Denver and the Mile High Orchestra. “OK. This is your influence on me. I didn’t used to run headfirst into situations where I knew I’d be in over my head. I didn’t take flyers. At most a calculated risk, after some planning. Thanks for opening my world.” 

      We have to say “yes” to the opportunities God brings our way. Some of them, maybe most of them, won’t come around a second time. Taking a big step may change the trajectory of our life.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

20 Good Books I Read in 2023

      It’s no secret – I’m a man of lists. I love making lists, whether shopping lists, to-do lists, book lists, running and biking lists, hiking lists, blood pressure and heartrate lists, and even list lists. I agree with the sentiments of Sheldon Cooper, from The Big Bang, who once said, “If there were a list of things that make me more comfortable, lists would be at the top of that list.”

      Way back in 1986 I followed the advice of motivational speaker Jim Rohn and started keeping a list of books I’d read. It wasn’t a hard decision. I love to read, and my reading habit precedes my list-making habit by decades.

      I don’t expect everyone to love reading as much as I do, or like the same books I like, but I know all of us would be better people if we read a book or two every year. And so, here are some suggestions. These are listed in the order I read them; I didn’t try to rank them by importance or enjoyment … that’s a paralyzing and pointless exercise. However, if you’re interested, give me your email address and I’ll send you my entire Excel reading list for 2022. In fact, I’ll send you my complete list going back to 1986 if you want, but it isn’t a quick glance. And send me your own list. I’m always searching for ideas.

      These books turned out to be the most meaningful for me over the past twelve months. Should you choose to read one of these books, I’d love to hear from you. I enjoy different takes on books that made my year better. And if you have any recommendations for me, I’d love to hear those, too.

1.     Number One is Walking: My Life in the Movies and Other Diversions, by Steve Martin … Martin’s first book about his career in the movies. He tells stories from his best films―Father of the Bride, Roxanne, The Jerk, Three Amigos, and many more.

2.     A Voyage for Madmen, by Peter Nichols … In 1968, nine sailors set off on the most daring race ever held: to single-handedly circumnavigate the globe nonstop. It was a feat that had never been accomplished and one that would forever change the face of sailing. Ten months later, only one of the nine men would cross the finish line and earn fame, wealth, and glory. For the others, the reward was madness, failure, and death.

3.     The Creative Act: A Way of Being; A Way of Being, by Rick Rubin … A book about being creative as a way of life, by the legendary music producer.

4.     Confronting Christianity: 12 Hard Questions for the World’s Largest Religion, by Rebecca McLaughlin … explores 12 questions that keep many of us from considering faith in Christ. Look more closely, McLaughlin argues, and the reality of suffering, the complexity of sexuality, the desire for diversity, the success of science, and other seeming roadblocks to faith become signposts. Jesus becomes not a relic from the ancient world but our modern world's best hope.

5.     On the Brink of Everything: Grace, Gravity, and Getting Old, by Parker Palmer … Reframing aging as "a passage of discovery and engagement", Palmer says, "Old is just another word for nothing left to lose, a time to take bigger risks on behalf of the common good."

6.    My Cool Bike: an inspirational guide to bikes and bike culture, by Chris Hadoon … A love affair with bikes and bike culture, this book will appeal to all who have taken up cycling for sport, fun, health and wealth, not just the cycling nuts but all who mean to dust off the flat-tired two-wheeler.

7.     The Lost Explorer: Finding Mallory on Mount Everest, by Conrad Ankor … In 1999, Conrad Anker found the body of George Mallory lying frozen into the scree at 27,000 feet on Everest's north face. Recounting this day, the authors go on to assess the clues provided by the body, its position, and the possibility that Mallory had successfully climbed the Second Step, a 90-foot sheer cliff that is the single hardest obstacle on the north face.

8.     All My Knotted-Up Life: A Memoir, by Beth Moore …  a funny and vulnerable glimpse into the life and ministry of a woman familiar to many but known by few.

9.     Directed by James Burrows: Five Decades of Stories from the Legendary Director of Taxi, Cheers, Frasier, Friends, Will & Grace, and More, by James Burrows … famous and prolific television director recalls highlights of his productive and highly successful career in directing and sometimes co-creating situation comedies, which included Taxi, Cheers, Frazier, Friends, Mike and Molly, Will and Grace, and more.

10.  Walking With Sam: A Father, a Son, and Five Hundred Miles Across Spain, by Andrew McCarthy … The author and his adult son decided to make a 500-mile walk across Spain on the Camino de Santiago.

11.  God's Not Done With You, Encouragement from the Bible’s Greatest Comeback Stories (Christian book that will help you to have faith in hard times, ... failure, regrets, oppression, adversity.), by John Meador … nine amazing "comeback stories" from the Bible to show how God provides everything needed to get through challenging setbacks.

12.  Finding Elevation: Fear and Courage on the World's Most Dangerous Mountain, by Lisa Thompson … more than her climbing memoir, this is an examination of the human spirit and motivation. The author excelled in the male-dominated world of mountain climbing even after battling breast cancer.

13.  Built to Move: The Ten Essential Habits to Help You Move Freely and Live Fully, by Kelly and Juliet Starrett … What makes a durable human? How do we continue to feel great and function well as we age? And how do we counteract the effects of technology-dependence, sedentary living, and other modern ways of life on our body’s natural need for activity? 

14.  Being Disciples: Essentials of the Christian Life, by Rowan Williams … The author offers biblically grounded wisdom for Christians at all stages of their journeys as disciples of Jesus.

15.  The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkein … I reread The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy this year, and I believe The Hobbit is my favorite of the four. Biblo has no idea what he’s getting into, and he does the right thing over and over.

16.  Long Train Runnin': Our Story of The Doobie Brothers, by Pat Simmons and Tom Johnston … An excellent account of a band that was important to me and fundamental to my musical foundations.

17.  The Oregon Trail: A New American Journey, by Rinker Buck … An epic account of traveling the 2,000-mile length of the Oregon Trail the old-fashioned way - in a covered wagon with a team of mules. The story captivated me.

18.  Carry the Fire: 50th Anniversary Edition, by Michael Collins … I love astronaut stories. In Carrying the Fire, Collins conveys, in a very personal way, the drama, beauty, and humor of that adventure. He also traces his development from his first flight experiences in the Air Force, through his days as a test pilot, to his Apollo 11 space walk, presenting an evocative picture of the joys of flight as well as a new perspective on time, light, and movement from someone who has seen the fragile earth from the other side of the moon.

19.  John le Carre', by Adam Sisman … This was a fascinating and comprehensive biography of a very secretive man. My favorite parts, and the reason I read this book, were the details about his writing habits and techniques.

20.  The Memoir Project: A Thoroughly Non-Standardized Text For Writing & Life, by Marion Roach Smith … One of the best books about the art of writing, and editing, I’ve read. The author gives specific and clear advice. I’ll be using this as a guideline for a long time to come.

100 Things That Made 2023

      It’s the most wonderful time of the year, the time for making lists. I love lists. They make me happy, calm me down, and push me forward into the future – especially lists of happy things and good times.

      One way to reinforce your grateful heart is to keep track of how you spent it. What did you watch or read or cook or listen to or consume this year? Look back over 12 months and ask: “What did I love this year? What do I recommend?”

      Writer and artist, Austin Kleon, taught me to create a list of things that made my year; I wrote my first list in 2014, so this is my 10th edition. You may notice some repeats from my previous lists. That’s on purpose. I love the good things that stick year after year, and I want to call them out.

      When we look back over our life, and over the previous year, we tend to remember the bad over the good.

      Why is that?

      Two reasons: Most good things stretch out over long periods of time, but bad things happen all at once, so the bad things stick in our memory while the good things fade to the back. Also, we have an Enemy who tries to rob us of joy and love and covers over our best memories with the debris of daily life.

      Therefore, we must intentionally remind ourselves of the good things, the grace-filled things, the influential things, and the things that make us human. Living with gratitude is the secret to a meaningful life, and this exercise of listing people, events, and things that made the year better is a powerful move toward having a habitually thankful heart.

      I encourage you to put together your own list and try not to stop until you can identify at least 100 things. A list of the best things you watched, the best things you ate, the best advice you received, the best apps you discovered, the best lines you heard in a movie, the best books you read that’s been sitting on your shelf for more than a decade, the best changes you made to your evening routine.

      It won’t be easy. You may have to find help to remember the best, so dig out your journals, flip through the photos on your phone, comb through your calendars, review your reading lists and music purchases, and ask those who are close to you. It can be a lot of work, but trust me, it’s worth the effort.

      And when you do, I hope you share. I’d love to see your list. A big part of imbedding gratitude in your life is making it known.

100 Things That Made 2023

      (By the way, this list has been randomly sorted. Trying to rank items by importance is paralyzing.)

1. Our newly remodeled showers (thank you, Cyndi). We went from dark brown to bright white.

2. Quote: “I loved music before anyone was listening.” – Amy Grant.

3. Attending the Southern Baptist Convention in New Orleans with church friends. We were both fascinated at the way they handled so many people, and loved all the music.

4. Donating my 134th pint of blood (16.75 gallons). My life goal is 160 pints (20 gallons), which means I have about five years to go.

5. Quote (I heard from a defense attorney during voir dire): “You know what the ‘e’ in email stands for? Evidence.”

6. Book: Walking With Sam, by Andrew McCarthy. A father-son Camino journal.

7. Kevin Willhite with Soft Touch Chiropractic Clinic. He keeps me straight and pain-free.

8. My Uncle James and Aunt Barbara joined us for Thanksgiving leftovers and the Granbury Christmas parade.

9. Wearing my new handmade Panama hat, a Birthday present from my family. I’m sure it makes me a better writer.

10. Movie: Jesus Revolution. It took me back to the 1970s, to the music and message that awakened my teenaged heart.

11. Reading my Daily Bible.

12. Book: Long Train Runnin', by Pat Simmons and Tom Johnston. What the people need is a way to make them smile; It ain’t so hard to do if you know how. Listen to the Music.

13. Our standing date (Cyndi and me) at Blue Sky every Friday at 1:00 pm, where we split a hamburger and tater tots. Simple, routine events like this place another drop of glue that binds us together.

14. Playing trombone with Denver and the Mile High Orchestra at Christmas. I stood on stage between two PhD musicians and jazz masters. I love the idea that, no matter my age (67), I can still get better.

15. Playing with Craig and Ross at Pete Schrenkel’s annual Christmas open house.

16. My brand new 2023 Barcelona Red Toyota Tacoma. I don’t have a practical reason for driving a pickup, but it makes me happy. The empty bed represents hope … I can help you.

17. My friend Rabon Bewley received his PhD in music education. Now we call him Dr. Jazz.

18. Base Camp Gathering in Colorado with my Noble Heart friends. There is a depth among brothers that I need.

19. Trombone Shorty (Troy Andrews) concert with Carroll and Cyndi and Byron and Angela and Katie.

20. Quote: “Every good scab has a story.” – David Hurta.

21. Cyndi’s homemade apple pie. Not only it is my favorite, knowing she makes it just for me feeds my heart.

22. Stuffing my first dollar into a Salvation Army kettle at Market Street in Midland.

23. Podcast: Norah Jones is Playing Along. (Especially Episode 27, with Questlove and Christian McBride.)

24. Solving Sudoku puzzles each morning. It’s my small effort against dementia.

25. Walking the Camino de Santiago with Cyndi, in Spain in May.

26. Book: God's Not Done With You, by John Meador. We had some of our deepest Iron Men discussions with this book.

27. Reversible gray/burgundy pullover that Cyndi brought home from her studio’s lost-and-found collection. It has become my favorite cold-weather gear.

28. Movie: A Million Miles Away. I love astronaut stories. And engineer stories. This was both.

29. Podcast: McCartney: A Life in Lyrics

30. Giving a talk – sharing my heart - about mentoring, at Base Camp Gathering in September.

31. Dr. Vineyard, at the Carrell Clinic in Dallas, who reconstructed my left foot and ankle June 2022. Thanks to him, I’m back walking every day and hiked long distances, in Saudi Arabia last March, and Spain last May. (I recently had my final post-surgery visit, so now I’m on my own.)

32. Definition (from SpaceX after the Starship rocket exploded during flight): “Starship experienced a rapid unscheduled disassembly.”

33. Cycling with Carroll in Glen Rose, Texas, in the Paluxy Pedal.

34. Most confusing quote: “It’s time for us to do what we have been doing, and that time is every day.” - Vice President Kamala Harris.

35. Book: A Voyage for Madmen, by Peter Nichols

36. I got my first “Buen Camino” in Midland, from someone who noticed my backpack.

37. Movie: Oppenheimer (They talked about physics for over two hours, and it seemed like 30 minutes.)

38. Quote: “Don’t define your life by achieving your goals. Define your life by living your values.” – Adam Grant.

39. Traveling down the highway listening to audio books with Cyndi. We may go hours without talking to each other, yet it feels like we’re on a date.

40. Mailing birthday cards. My list got longer this year with the addition of our new Sunday School class.

41. Journey Group with Todd and Peit Peit, using Zoom, since they both live in Saudi Arabia. (This was my first totally virtual JG.)

42. Worshiping in the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral after finishing our pilgrimage.

43. Regular Friday evening dinners with Britt and Patti Pyeatt. Feels like family. Feels like home.

44. Podcast: Ask Dr. E

45. Finishing the year with 2,950 books on my reading list (since 1986). Send me your list; I’ll send you mine. Maybe we’ll discover new books together.

46. Dancing with Cyndi.

47. Observing the annular solar eclipse in October.

48. Quote (from movie A Million Miles Away): “Tenacity is a superpower.”

49. Visiting Mt. Sinai, Moses’ Well, the Split Rock, and other archeological sites in western Saudi Arabia.

50. A working weekend in Granbury with Carroll and Byron and Angela and Katie. We cut up a lot of wood that day.

51. Book: The Lost Explorer: Finding Mallory on Everest, by Conrad Ankor

52. The post-ride protein reload at Black’s Barbeque in Lockhart with Carroll’s family, following the Ride to End Alzheimer’s.

53. Driving Todd’s Jeep up and down giant sand dunes in Saudi Arabia.

54. Whataburger Yeti cup.

55. Taking cold plunges at Cyndi’s yoga studio. No one could be more surprised than me how refreshingly fun this was.

56. A surprise lunch with Jerry Comfort at McAlister's in Big Spring.

57. Mavis Staples in concert. “Just another soldier in the army of love.”

58. Quote (from Wild Ideas podcast): “You have to allow yourself downtime. You can’t be all epic all the time.” – Emily Pennington.

59. Cyndi made a scrub shirt for Rabon to celebrate his new doctorate.

60. Yellow highlighters. I buy them by the box and use them all the time.

61. Accompanying Cyndi to Maine in August for her fascia workshop.

62. Quote: “More than raw intelligence, I look for people who consistently push past pretty good.” - Malcomb Gladwell.

63. Soft-Cover, black, squared Moleskine Journals.

64. Cycling with Carroll in Wimberley in the Ride to End Alzheimer’s.

65. Playing in the FBC orchestra and Midland College Jazz Band with Cyndi. (One of my favorite things about life is that Cyndi and I have played music together since 1973.)

66. When the woman in the Pilgrim Office in Santiago, Spain, finished printing my Compostella, a certificate of completion of the Camino de Santiago, she handed it to me and said, simply, “Congratulations, Berry.” I teared up when I took it. I didn’t expect it to be so emotional.

67. Attending the 100th anniversary of First Baptist Church Ackerly, where my grandfather, Roy Haynes, pastored from 1950 to 1956. I heard at least a dozen stories from people who walked all the way across the room to tell me they were baptized by Bro. Haynes.

68. Our Camino tour guide, Miguel, told us that tying a seashell to our backpacks transformed us from tourists to pilgrims. I haven’t stopped pondering that statement, yet.

69. Quote: “Firefighters run toward fires; Soldiers run toward combat; Christians should run toward serving.” – BDS.

70. Cooking on my new Pit Boss pellet grill. So far, pork chops have been my best efforts. (I’m open to (even soliciting) advice and recommendations.)

71. Wrangler Relaxed-Fit jeans. Skinny jeans don’t work for me.

72. Visiting Saudi Arabia in March, where we spoke about marriage to a dozen small groups and one banquet.

73. Regular lunches with my pastor, Dr. Darin Wood.

74. Quote: “When I was younger, I thought the way you make the biggest impact on the world is you go to the most places you can and speak to the most people you can speak to. At forty I had a wakeup moment where I realized that you make the greatest impact by staying in the same place for the longest amount of time to see the reproductive power of the gospel at work in the generational cycles that come.” - Louie Giglio

75. Playing Christmas jazz with Rabon at the Midland Art Crawl in Cyndi’s yoga studio.

76. Book: My Knotted-Up Life, by Beth Moore

77. Book: Confronting Christianity, by Rebecca McLaughlin

78. Cyndi Simpson in yoga pants.

79. Book: Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut’s Journeys, by Michael Collins

80. Goal: “Be a learner vs. a knower.”

81. Byron’s Duck Ruloud for Thanksgiving Dinner.

82. Teaching in the Ezekiel Class. They welcomed us as their new teacher, and we’ve enjoyed every minute. About two weeks in, I told Cyndi, “This feels like home to me. It’s a reminder what I’m supposed to be doing.”

83. Spending the night onboard Jeff and Robin Darr’s sailboat. Great friends and a delightful evening.

84. Not watching 24-hour TV news.

85. Walking around our neighborhood park in the mornings with Cyndi.

86. Quote: “I find it very hard to be unhappy on a bicycle.” – Austin Kleon

87. Bill Britt with Integrity Massage – he keeps me moving. (A bonus: Bill was baptized in 2023!)

88. Tuesday morning gentle yoga class.

89. Book: The Oregon Trail, by Rinker Buck (a Christmas gift from my daughter-in-law).

90. Journey Group with Charlton and Ryan with Google Meet, spanning three time zones. (This is my second completely virtual JG.)

91. Watching Cyndi teach dance lessons at a marriage enrichment exercise at the Osterlunds.

92. Quote: “Remember, today’s peacock is tomorrow’s feather duster.” - Parker Palmer.

93. Sharing cartoons on my Facebook page.

94. 32nd annual Midland Storytelling Festival. We’ve attended all 32. And now, Cyndi and I are serving on the board.

95. Byron and Angela’s Cubano Sandwiches made with freshly cooked bread, a Thanksgiving holiday treat. This was their best, yet.

96. Book: Number One is Walking, by Steve Martin

97. Book: Being Disciples, by Rowan Williams

98. Attending the storytelling workshop taught by Sue Roseberry.

99. Book: Finding Elevation, by Lisa Thompson

100. Book: Confronting Jesus, by Rebecca McLaughlin

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

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A Whole New World

      Wednesday night was when it began. During church orchestra rehearsal for our upcoming Christmas production.

      While counting rests I received a text from my new best friend, Hector, from Toyota, wondering if I could come to the dealership and get my brand-new Tacoma. It had arrived earlier in the day and was now waiting for me at the dealership, calling out my name.

      I asked if I could pick it up on Thursday and he said they could deliver it to our house, which I thought was great, so I texted, “Yes,” thinking Hector meant Thursday but he actually meant right away.

      My next text (yes, I’ll confess, Dr. Bewley, I was looking at my phone during rehearsal, but we had a LOT of rests to count so I had plenty of time) said they were in front of my house with the Tacoma and where should they leave the keys.

      And just like that, in the middle of rehearsal, I moved into a new beginning.

      Thursday morning I moved some of my stuff from my old Tacoma (which, believe it or not, was my second one, and all three look the same - same model (four-door 4WD), same color (Barcelona Red), same heartbeat (when I find something I like I can be loyal for a long, long time)) into my new Tacoma, went online to add it to my insurance, and left for Whataburger for a bit of writing and reading.

      After about an hour, Cyndi called to tell me she had been at a Scout Guide social at Black Rifle Coffee, and she told me they had a lot of tables, which was her way of saying I might want to try it out as an addition to my writing locations.

      “Have you been driving your new truck?” she asked?

      “Of course. But even though it looks and drives 95% the same as my previous two, unlike either of them all the interior containment slots were different.”

      “Oh no. What will you do?”

      “I’ll eventually learn all the new places and it will feel like home, but in the meantime, I’ll be lost every time I reach for a highlighter or glasses or Carmex.”

      And then, while sitting in one of my favorite booths at Whataburger on Andrews Highway, while on the phone with Cyndi, it occurred to me I should take advantage of this unstable season I’m in and make changes I’ve been afraid to make. Once I know a squishy few weeks are in my future, why not tackle everything at once?

      I told Cyndi, “Since I’m not a big coffee drinker I seldom go to places like Black Rifle, but as long as I’ll be learning all new container locations in my new pickup I might as well experiment with other new projects and see what sticks. Expand my horizons, and, like that.”

      “Wow. A whole new world.”

      “Yeah. 2024 is already looking better.”

      Cyndi was about to hang up and get on with her busy life when I said, “And it gets even better. Our yard nativity figures are still standing up!”

      “Really? After four days?”

      Keeping our yard nativity upright has been a constant multi-year struggle for me. A dark plague that has threatened my joy of Christmas. There isn’t a morning when I don’t find at least one wiseman or shepherd face down in the yard. Last weekend I glued some metal tubing to the backs so I could add additional metal stakes, and strung wire on other to keep the pieces together … and they’ve stayed standing now for four days. A brand-new record.

      Even in the midst of this rickety unstable period of my life, begun with my new pickup, I’m facing, I’ve found new stability.

I will make a list of things to change.

I’m open to suggestions, if you have any.

      It’s a whole new world.

      Merry Christmas.

Ride to End Alzheimer’s 2023

Observations from a Wimberley Hill Country Ride

My brother, Carroll Simpson, and I rode in the November 2023 Ride to End Alzheimer’s in Wimberley, Texas. A fund-raising ride, we did it memory and in honor of our mother, Lenelle Simpson, who passed away with Alzheimer's in July 2014.

It was a great event. There were plenty of smiling and helpful volunteers, the course marking was the best I’ve ever seen (which includes races I used to put on), and the aid stations were friendly and fully stocked.

The ride had over 530 cyclists who rode one of five different distances (10, 20, 40, 60, or 100 miles), and raised nearly $640,000 for Alzheimer’s research. Carroll and I rode 60 miles together; with a total elevation gain of 3,461’.

Carroll and his son, Evan, designed custom cycling jerseys for us. On the front was an anime-style skunk, chosen because our dad used to give mom small ceramic skunks whenever he found them. And on the back was printed “New-Tex Salvage.” The actual name of our parent’s service company was New-Tex Lab, but Carroll changed it to salvage since both of us are full of artificial replacement parts (knees, hips, screws, etc.)

*  *  *  *  *

 A few observations from Carroll:

We always yo-yo on these rides, and that’s okay. We both mostly “train” alone and while riding shoulder-to-shoulder is optimum, time alone staring at the pavement by yourself is welcome, maybe even crucial. Life isn’t always lived in the pack, even with adored family, and it’s just fine not to chase. We’ll always catch up to each other, coming back to the pack better for it after a lot of deep breaths and spinning out the legs at our own pace.

What’s interesting is when I move in front, it’s typically from chasing the speed and fun of a downhill. When I’m chasing you, it’s because you motor away steady-as-she-goes on the uphill grind. 

We didn’t talk much about Mom, our Alzheimer’s connection. I think that’s okay, I think she would rather us get the work done, and sappy sentiment was never really her style.

I got a lot of heartfelt “I’m proud of you”, but is it weird that made us almost uncomfortable? This wasn’t about tilting at the Alzheimer’s windmill for mom. We were grateful for comments; just casually conflicted.

Never, ever make hot chocolate at home with hot water ever again.

I very clearly under-prepared physically, that is a lesson painfully learned and to be remedied.

An oversized beef rib with my clan, both old and new, is a very grateful way to wrap up the day.

Riding myself into oblivion is something I hope I can do with my brother until the day when our wives have to hide our bikes from us.

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A few observations from Berry:

This was one of the few occasions I’ve had to use every single gear on my bike, over and over. I bottomed out into the lowest gear several times, and then had to mash the pedals the rest of the way to the top.

Sadly, there was one hill I had to dismount and push my bike up the last hundred feet because I couldn’t breathe deep enough to keep pedaling. My legs were still working, but my lungs quit. In the group we were (loosely) cycling with, the only one who rode all the way up was a woman on an e-bike. She was very proud of herself. Good for her.

We went past one aid station two different times. The first time they had a horse, I suppose it was their petting zoo, and the second time they had hot chocolate. I didn’t bother with petting the horse, but the hot chocolate was perfect.

When we rode up to the station Carroll noticed the crock pot right away. It was full of steaming milk for hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was perfect, and I never got chills after that.

The weather was cool and slightly damp. The only time I got cold was when I was off my bike at the aid stations.

I was surprised to bump into an old friend at one of the aid stations, Jeff Byrd.

I think all those years running long distances helps me ride up hills. That makes me happy. I was never much of a runner, I just kept doing it. At least it finally counted toward something useful. 

I think your (Carroll) background of BMX and mountain biking make you braver (or in the eyes of our wives, more reckless), and so faster on the descents. 

I would like to go downhill faster. After all, I earned it, going up.

My legs felt fine on Monday while driving back to Midland. I might have had a different story had I tried to ride. The issues that will linger a bit are saddle sores, which reminds me I didn’t do enough long training rides. I often forget how much extended time in the saddle matters. 

One of the most comforting things to see on a bike route is a Continue Straight sign. Because what it really says is: You are fine, you haven’t made any wrong turns or gotten yourself lost. Proceed ahead. It's nice to have confirmation you’re still on the route.

I remember doubling back at about mile 22 of the Ft. Worth Cowtown Marathon because I feared I’d missed a turn. As it turned out, I hadn’t. I was on the route. But your mind plays tricks on you after that much running. You aren’t at your cognitive best. I would’ve welcomed a Continue Straight sign.

It’s worth the money to travel and ride together with Carroll. I’m glad we have these stories in our memory banks.

Because I take after my mom in personality and temperament, I was concerned I might be especially susceptible to Alzheimer’s, too. So my response after she passed away was to do the 23-and-Me  DNA analysis to see if I had higher-than-normal likelihood of Alzheimer’s. It turned out, I don’t. In this category, I was happy to discover I’m simply normal.

I used to visit my mother in the Manor Park Younger Center for patients with Alzheimer’s. I don’t know if she recognized me as her oldest and most cherished son, but she wasn’t afraid of me and would tell me stories from her day. Afterward I’d ride bikes with my father. It’s interesting how those two things (Alzheimer’s and bikes) have circled back around, together.

More Than Ready

       Last Friday morning I was sitting in my favorite Whataburger booth when I read from my Daily Chronological Bible. I already knew what it would say. I’d been looking forward to that day’s reading for a month. In my Bible, October 20th is the day we get to read about the birth of Jesus. All month long I found myself flipping through the pages to see how much longer I had to wait.

       Why was I so anxious? Partly because the language and stories from the Gospels breathe fresh after the hard prophecies from the end of the Old Testament era; partly because I love the Christmas season, love the music, love the movies, love the friendliness and grace that mysteriously overtakes us all, and love the fact that we’re concerned more about what we should give rather what we hope to get; and partly because the cooler air and shorter days bring fresh energy to my daily reading. By October 20th I’m more than ready.

       So sitting in the booth, sipping a Diet Coke, reading, I stopped on Luke 1:46, what we call The Song of Mary, or The Magnificat:

       My soul glorifies the Lord,
       And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
       For He has been mindful of the humble
       State of His servant.

       To be honest, I started to tear up as I read those words. I didn’t really want to cry in the restaurant and shake up the serving staff or the family sitting in the booth next to mine, but there it was. As I read the words, what I heard in my heart was the phrase I heard long ago, sung by 14-year-old Adriana in about 1992, when she was playing the role of Mary in a church choir presentation. She sang:

       My soul magnifies the Lord.

       I’ll be honest; this song always breaks me down, no matter who sings it. But last Friday, while sitting in the booth, the reason I stumbled over those lines was I realized they describe who I want to be.

       For all my writing, teaching, talking about journey and calling and purpose and meaning (if you’re around me much you know I talk about those all the time), the person I want to be, who I want my life and legacy to be, is a man who magnifies the Lord.

       Not magnify, as in making the Lord bigger. That’s impossible.

       But magnify the Lord, as in making Him easier to see, making His grace more comfortable to accept, opening His comfort for healing, illustrating His huge strong hands that have a firm grip on me. I want my life and my writing and my teaching to be a continuous stream of, “Hey, take a look at this,” and point directly toward Jesus. I want to describe and re-frame and illustrate and illuminate the grace of God through my own experience and my stories.

       I will be singing the song in my head for the next week or so, so don’t be surprised if I look a little distant yet surprisingly happy.

       It is almost Christmas. Let us all magnify the Lord as we give ourselves away to each other. I’m more than ready.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Paluxy Pedal Again

      Saturday, October 7th, my brother, Carroll, and I rode the Paluxy Pedal in Glen Rose. This was my fourth time riding this, and our second time to ride this together.

      It’s a beautiful and challenging route through the north Texas hills. The roads are all up or down, seldom level, quite steep in places. The auto traffic is usually light, traffic control at intersections is good, the aid stations well-stocked and well manned with friendly volunteers.

      The Paluxy Pedal is famous among north Texas bike rides for The Wall, a brutal climb 3/10 of a mile long with an advertised 19% grade.

      This year Carroll and I decided to bypass The Wall. We made the decision weeks ago, knowing the holes in our training, and we didn’t talk about it much once we started the ride since both of us were a little embarrassed to not give it another attempt. But neither of us are youngsters and we were aware of our training and physical condition and knew trying to ride up The Wall would be dismal at best. We’d likely spend more time walking our bikes up the slope than we would riding them.

      Our morning started well. We left Granbury with plenty of time to drive to Glen Rose, unload our bikes, get kitted up, grab our race packets, and make the ride start at 8:30. It was a beautiful October morning, in the low 50s, breezy but not brutal. Our long sleeves were perfect.

      We finished in Glen Rose about 11:30 am. The ride went well, except that we got a little mixed up with the various routes (there are choices of 29, 39, 53, and 60 miles). Somehow, we finished the day with only 36 miles. It was a big surprise when the finish line arrived so soon. We had planned on 53 miles.

      We also had another problem, unrelated to cycling, that happened before the ride started. All I can say and still maintain family confidentiality is we had a UACB (Unscheduled Automotive Control Breakdown). We made every effort before the ride started to fix the problem. We even asked for help, but no joy.

      By the time we finally rolled out everyone else had been gone for several minutes. We couldn’t be sure we were even on the correct route until we started overtaking riders.

      At the first aid station, Carroll phoned his wife, Jennifer, and asked her to check with the local Ford dealership and see if they could help. That gave us another ten miles to think about our problem until the next aid station came around.

      As it turns out, there is no Ford dealership in Glen Rose, and the dealership in Granbury Ford wouldn’t answer their phone, so option #1 was out.

      Jennifer found someone who could bring a computer and help us, so we phoned him as soon as we finished riding. Unfortunately, the soonest he could meet us was 7:00 pm. Neither of us wanted to hang around for seven hours. Carroll said, “Well, we came here to ride bikes. Let’s ride to Granbury.”

      So we rode our bikes 22 miles north on Highway 177 to our house in Granbury. The ride was brutal. The half hour we rested while trying to decide what to do was enough time for our muscles to cool down and tighten up. Plus the post-ride slices of pizza we probably shouldn’t have eaten talked to us the entire way.

      The first eight miles were the worst. There was only about three feet of rough gravely shoulder for us to ride on, and half of that was cut up into rumble strips. It was unnerving to have such an unstable road with cars and trucks passing us at full highway speed.

      However, after about eight miles, the road widened, and our bike lane became smoother and cleaner and more pleasant.

      We were exhausted when we finally arrived at the Granbury house. We now had 58 miles for the day, and that was plenty. At least we could now enjoy the OU-Texas football game which we’d set to record while were riding. We’d maintained radio (phone, internet, and texts) silence so we wouldn’t know how the football game was going. We plopped down in front of the TV and watched the first half, until it was time to head back to Glen Rose.

      By the time we finally made it back to Granbury with both trucks, we grabbed dinner and watched the rest of the game. We finally had the good news, 34-30, at 9:30. Fifty-eight miles and a winning football game. It was a full day.

      Paluxy Pedal and The Wall, we will be back.

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“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Psalm 119:32

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Thank you for reading! This is a reader-supported publication, and it only works with your help. Please share with your friends. You can find more of my writing, learn about my books, or subscribe to this free blog, at berrysimpson.com.

Uncertainty at the Airport

       The first thing we saw after exiting the rental car shuttle bus and entering the doors at the Denver International Airport terminal was a long line of people with their carryon luggage. The line stretched to the left and to the right as far as we could see. It wasn’t clear what they were in line waiting for, or whether we should join them.

       Well, as it turned out, at least they weren’t in line to check in with Southwest Airlines. We managed our way through that quickly. But when we approached the entrance to security, we could see long lines of people snaking out from the official switchbacks and randomly wrapping around the terminal.

       We split up since I had a TSA PreCheck clearance and Chad didn’t. As it turned out, PreCheck status didn’t help much. Both classifications had long lines that stretched far away around corners. We both went looking for the tail end of our respective lines.

       Because there were lines of people everywhere it was impossible to be sure where each line ended up. I stood in a long line for Clear for several minutes before realizing I was in the wrong place. A uniform came walking by and about a dozen of us jumped out at the same time to ask, “Where is the TSA PreCheck line?”

       She gathered us up and said, “All of you stick with me. We’re going to find the end of your line.”

       She took us from one end of the terminal to the other, I don’t remember if it was North to South or South to North. By now I was completely disoriented. But she finally found us a spot and assured us we were now in the right place. None of us were convinced, but we didn’t know where else to go.

       This new line took us out the sliding glass door to the sidewalk outside, went about fifty yards down the sidewalk, then reversed itself and went all the way back to the same door and back into the terminal.

       I received a text from Chad: “I just found the end of my line. I may not make it.”

       I texted back: “We may not make it together. I just finished my first switchback outside on the sidewalk. At least we’re not in France where they don’t believe in lines. They just mob the entrance.”

       Once back inside, it was only a couple of minutes before we could see the TSA screeners and, most importantly, a giant PreCheck sign. Not only were we in the right line, but we were almost to glory.

       For ID screening we could choose from among six different stations. The woman next to me asked, “Which one do you think is the fastest?”

       I told her, “It’s always the other one.”

       After my ID proved satisfactory, I made my way over to the left-hand side where TSA had full-body scanners. I have enough replacement parts in my body to set off the regular metal detectors. As I walked up, the guard asked, “Do you have any internal metal?”

       “Yes, I do.”

       He motioned me on past toward the full-body scanner. When I started to step inside, another guard asked, “Sir, are you bionic?”

       “Yes, I am. Would you like to see me fly through?"

       "No sir, it only works if you stand still with your arms over your head.”

       I texted Chad, “I’m through security, headed to the train station.”

       He texted back, “The drug dog like me so I was escorted through and completely checked. I shouldn’t have packed those M&Ms.”

       “See you at the gate.”

       Chad got to gate C51 a few minutes before I did. We were just in time to hear there were 143 passengers for 143 seats. The airplane would be completely full.

       We didn’t care. We made it to the gate, and we’d see our wives in a few hours. It took about fifty minutes from the time we walked into the terminal until we arrived at our gate. That’s a long time, but I thought it would be two hours when I first saw all those lines of people. Fifty minutes seemed short.

       It occurred to me that most people were acceptably patient as long as they knew for certain they were in the right line. The uncertainty of thinking you might be in the wrong line was more stressful than the actual waiting. It reminded me of registering for classes at college. You thought you were in line for Engineering Physics only to discover, after 30 minutes of waiting, you were in line for Interpretive Dance.

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“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Psalm 119:32

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Thank you for reading! This is a reader-supported publication, and it only works with your help. Please share with your friends. You can find more of my writing, learn about my books, or subscribe to this free blog, at berrysimpson.com.