Love Songs

OK, so here is the story about these lists of love songs. A few yearsago (2007) I decided to make a CD of love songs to give away to friends and family in celebration of our anniversary. Since getting married was the best decision I ever made I thought it appropriate to spread the love.

Here are the playlists that I've used so far. I am still working on my 2010 list. And, I am always appreciative of suggestions - especially new songs, since I tend to hear only the songs played on NPR or at Gold's Gym.

I hope you will go to YouTube and listen to these, and then buy them, so you can play them with your lover and your hearts can go soft together and your future will be brighter. And, all that.

2009 Love Song Play List (30th Anniversary)

We've Got A Good Thing Going, by Michael Jackson
I Can't Let Go, by Chicago
I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz
La Bamba, by Leon Thomas III
You Ruined Everything, by Jonathan Coulton
Soul Food To Go, by The Manhattan Transfer
Wichita Lineman, by James Taylor
Wishing You Were Here, by Earth, Wind & Fire
Ain't That A Kick In The Head, by Dean Martin
Then, by Brad Paisley
Come In From The Rain, by Melissa Manchester -
Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop, by Landon Pigg
Playing Love, by Ennio Morricone
The Way You Look Tonight, by Michael Bublé
Two Hearts, by Carole King & Graham Nash
Suavecito, by Malo
Don't Know Much, by Linda Ronstadt featuring Aaron Neville
Let Me Be the One, by Carpenters
More Than Love, by Los Lonely Boys
E Nada Mais, by Claudio Roditi
2008 Love Song Play List (29th Anniversary)
Baby, It's Cold Outside, by Leon Redbone/Zooey Deschanel
Bari Improv, by Kaki King
Bubbly, by Colbie Caillat
Call On Me, by Chicago
Feels Like Home, by Bonnie Raitt
Hanging By a Moment, by Lifehouse
Hey There Delilah, by Plain White T's
I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face, by Dean Martin Featuring Chris Botti
I Only Want To Be With You, by Shelby Lynne
If I Ain't Got You, by Alicia Keys
Just Can't Help Myself, by First Call
Let's Fall In Love, by Diana Krall
Love at the Five and Dime, by Nanci Griffith
Pride And Joy, by Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble
Round and Round, by 
Stay With Me Awhile, by Ryan James
Storybook Love, by Willy Deville Acoustic Trio
Unbreak My Heart (Regressa A Mi), by Il Divo
The Way I Am, by Ingrid Michaelson
You and I Both, by Jason Mraz
2007 Love Song Play List (28th Anniversary)
The Adventure, by Angels & Airwaves
Arms of a Woman, by Amos Lee
Beginnings, by Chicago
Better Together, by Jack Johnson
Book Of Love, by Peter Gabriel
Everything, by Michael Bublé
Fallen, by Lauren Wood
Happy Man, by Chicago
I Will Be Here, by Steven Curtis Chapman
I Won't Last A Day Without You, by The Carpenters
It's Too Late To Turn Back Now, by Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose
Life Less Ordinary, by Carbon Leaf
Magic, by Colbie Caillat
The Nearness Of You, by Norah Jones
The Reason, by Hoobastank
's Wonderful, by Ella Fitzgerald
Someone Like You, by Van Morrison
That's All, by Michael Bublé
When Did You Fall (In Love With Me) [Groovin' Version], by Chris Rice

Journal Entry 060310 - The road is my home

Reading The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by James Martin, S.J., one of the early companions of Ignatius, who said, “The road is our home.”

I am pretty sure what Nadal didn’t mean was what Merle Haggard sang about the road as his home, “I’ve had ramblin’ fever all along.” Nadal’s road was not a road of escape from duty and relationships, but a path toward God.

I also don’t think he meant a road as home like Willie Nelson, who sang, “I just can’t wait to get on the road again.” For Nelson the road itself was only a means to an end, the interval between concerts. For Nadal, I think the road was his final destination.

I’m not exactly sure what Jeronimo Nadal meant, but I think he meant that a life of prayer and contemplation was not enough unless it was also moving down the road. A follower of Jesus is expected to lead an active life, to be a “contemplative in action.”

Most of my own contemplation comes at one of two times: while I am writing raw thoughts in my journal, or more often, while I am moving my feet down the road (running or hiking).

The reason I have been thinking about roads is because of what my newest friends, Gary and Peter and Carl and Chad, told me last weekend. I was at a very small men’s retreat (almost like private lessons) where we spent many hours talking about God’s calling on our life. We told our life stories, we discussed images that described various aspects of our heart, we talked about movies and books and music and wives and friends. We were strangers to each other when we first arrived, but they soon knew as much about me as my longest friends. One theme the guys saw in my life was repeated references to paths and trails and bridges and doorways. Roads. I live my life on the road.

I knew it was correct the minute I heard it. In my mind and heart I am always on the road. I hope my road is not like Willie Nelson’s or Merle Haggard’s, but rather a road into the future toward God. I want to believe my best days are ahead of me, just a bit further down the road. I hope my closest days with God are down this pathway and my best times with Cyndi are across that elegant bridge. Not that my best is always out of reach, but that my best is ahead of me. I want to live a life moving into the future down this road, toward God’s best.

Jon Katz wrote (The Bedlam Farm Journal) about Joseph Campbell, who had an idea that most people are either security or mythically driven. Security-conscious people make deliberate choices about their life. They have money saved, jog and exercise, are prepared for recessions, retirement, illness, and beyond.

Mythically-driven people are different, and they make different choices. They take risks, and make deliberate decisions that the choices they make may not result in security as most Americans define it – money in the bank, fat IRAs, mortgage paid off.

So far, I’ve spent my life on the security road. Yet, surprisingly, as I’ve gotten older I’ve veered incrementally toward a more mythically-driven path. I would’ve expected the trend to go the opposite direction. I had expected age would make me even more cautious and anxious for security.

Campbell said mythically-driven people risk everything for their dreams. While I doubt I’ve ever risked everything for anything, I often wish I was more risky with my dreams. I know my dreams are taking up more space in my life and security is taking up less, but the ratio is still far from 50/50.

One more song reference: Russ Taff wrote a song titled Farther On, saying, “Now I’m standing on this road your hand has brought me to; you faithful love will lead me farther on.” So while I don’t want to stand on the road, I want to keep moving. But even more, I want to stay on the road God’s hand has pushed me to.

There was something else the guys pointed out to me over the weekend: I don’t want to go alone. As much as I talk about my need for solitude, I have an even bigger need to travel the road with my group. I don’t care whether I am in the lead, but I want us to keep moving together. I want you with me.

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” www.runningwithgodonline.com

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org

 

Journal entry 052710: Called

I was reading I Corinthians 1:1 where the Apostle Paul described himself as being “called as an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God.”

I wrote in the margin, “He is confident of his position.” For myself, I often choke on the phrase – called by God. I’m not sure I have a right to make that claim. I believe it intellectually, but struggle with it practically.

It is easier for me to say “I am a petroleum engineer” since I have a university degree to back it up. Easier to say “I am a marathoner” since I have a collection of finish medals to prove it. Easier to say “I am a deacon” or “I am a teacher” since I have a certificate in my file cabinet and a class full of people.

But to say “I have been called by God,” to teach or write, is harder. I’m not sure why. Now that I have published my first book I can say “I am an author” with confidence, but to say “I am called” is harder.

Maybe making a claim to have been called by God, like the Apostle Paul did, assumes an endorsement by God, implies a level of skill and talent that seems presumptuous to claim for myself.

Yet I can describe multiple distinct encounters in my life when God spoke to me about my life as a writer and as a teacher in unmistakable ways. When he told me to start publishing weekly journals and when he called me out on that picnic table at Wild at Heart camp, just to mention two. While I may be reluctant to claim being called by God because I don’t have a medal or a success to show off, I cannot deny those encounters with God.

I doubt I’m alone in my reluctance. I imagine most people feel the same way I do. It is always easier to see God’s calling on someone else’s life than to see it in our own. More than one person in the Bible resisted being called by God.

For example, Moses argued with God about his calling even while standing barefoot in front of the burning bush. You’d think that would’ve convinced him. And Gideon pulled a double stunt, the wet fleece/dry fleece bit, hoping to understand the call that he feared. He’s lucky he wasn’t slapped down by the angel sent to give him the message. And even though God called Jeremiah to be a prophet before he was born, as soon as he was old enough to object he said, “I don’t know how to speak’ I’m only a child.”

Maybe some level of reluctance is a good thing. Maybe that’s what keeps us leaning into God to fulfill the calling rather than using our own ego. Maybe the humble spirit God is looking for is hidden within that reluctance. That is, as long as reluctance doesn’t turn into rebellion.

Well, I was thinking about this journal today while I ran. And while I ran I listened to a podcast by Erwin McManus who asked the question: “Are you doing what you were born to do?” I couldn’t believe it. How did McManus know I needed to hear this very question back on May 9th when he preached it?

He asked, “Are you doing what you’re doing on purpose?” Otherwise we are like a big log floating downstream wherever the current takes it, hanging up on brush, bumping into rocks, jamming with other logs. Understanding what God has called us to do demands intentional action on our part.

McManus said, “We all want to be the guy up front swinging the ax, but few have the discipline to sharpen their skills.” He quoted Ecclesiastes 10:10 (NIV): “If the ax is dull and its edge unsharpened, more strength is needed but skill will bring success.” Realizing your call from God can be frightening, since with great power and energy comes even greater obligation and expectation. We have to hone the skills God has given us.

So I’m headed north to Colorado this weekend to attend a small gathering of men where we’ll explore this very notion of our calling. The retreat will be led by Gary Barkalow (www.TheNobleHeart.com), whose voice has been one of the most influential in my life these past ten years. I am excited about the opportunity to understand more.

And so I’ll ask you, where do you see yourself in this discussion? What has God called you to do? Is it too scary to talk about yet? Are you sharpening your skills? Are you waiting to hear?

 

 

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

 

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/

 

Journal entry 052010: Heart thinking

I have been thinking a lot about my heart lately.

Maybe it’s because I’m two weeks into one of my 40-day challenges and several of my workouts are aimed directly at strengthening my heart. Yesterday I spent 40 minutes on a recumbent exercise bike at Gold’s Gym just for my heart. I like that style of bike because I can read my book while spinning (“A Farewell to Arms,” by Ernest Hemmingway), and it requires no skills other than perseverance and patience. I ride the bike simply to burn calories and train my heart for the next mountain trek.

Or maybe it’s because of my friend David whose heart stopped beating suddenly in the middle of a basketball game, a condition noted in his official medical report as “sudden death.” David miraculously recovered after considerable effort on the part of doctors and nurses and the entire town, and I have already booked him a spot on our next mountain hike next fall. Maybe his story made me more aware of the condition of my own heart.

Or maybe it’s because my 31st anniversary is coming up and I’ve been listening to a lot of love songs and my heart is soft.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve been working on my second book which is about guarding my heart and feeding my heart.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve been reading Proverbs in the mornings and Proverbs says a surprisingly lot about the heart. For example, Proverbs 14:30 says, “A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” Well, my heart is hardly at peace when I’m spinning, but I certainly don’t envy the big-muscle guy on the bike beside me. I’d hate to have to haul all of those heavy muscles around a marathon course no matter how good they look in a ripped T-shirt.

Proverbs 3:5 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;” This is not as easy as it sounds for an analytical problem-solver who tends to trust his own judgment and understanding over anyone and everyone else’s. How do I do this even a little bit, much less how do I do it with all my heart?

Or this one: Proverbs 22:17 says, “Pay attention and listen to the sayings of the wise; apply your heart to what I teach.” Again with the heart? Why doesn’t it say apply your mind, behavior, plans and dreams? Why heart?

And another, Proverbs 23:12 says, “Apply your heart to instruction and your ears to words of knowledge.” I tend to think of my heart as the passive part of me, the “result” of me, the part of me I’m supposed to guard and protect. I think of my intellect as the front line, the part I’m supposed to engage with, the active part. Yet, here, he says to “apply my heart.” That sounds active to me.

Proverbs means something besides heart muscles when it says heart, but it’s hard to know exactly what. Proverbs often contrasts the heart with the mind but it uses those terms in non-physiological ways. I think heart in Proverbs refers to the way we feel and think and dream. I suspect it’s a more holistic reference than the mind. Yet, there are no footnotes in Proverbs explaining the terminology, at least none written by the original authors, so there is a lot of guesswork involved.

Or maybe the reason I’ve been thinking so much about my heart is because of what I read in Proverbs 20:5 – “The purposes of a man’s heart are deep waters …” I remember hearing at Wild at Heart Camp that we have to get out in the deep water to know God. Gary Barkalow taught from Luke 5:4-6, where Jesus told Simon Peter to “put out into deep water and let down their nets for a catch.” Simon heard Jesus that day because he was willing to follow Jesus into the deeper waters. Barkalow said that we will hear Jesus call when we go with him out into the deeper waters … we have to get out of the safe shallows if we want to hear Jesus.

Maybe that’s a peek into why God says throughout Proverbs to focus on our heart – it’s the deep end of the pool.

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/

Journal entry 051310: Changing my life

Saturday afternoon I was at Lowe’sbuying a few PVC pieces for our drip irrigation system when I heard the song “I’d Really Love to See You Tonight,” by England Dan and John Ford Coley (1976). I instinctively grabbed my phone and texted the lyrics to Cyndi: “There’s a warm wind blowing, the stars are out, and I’d really love to see you tonight.” We often send lyrics to each other.

Cyndi texted back, “It’s 61 degrees outside. The warm breeze must be coming from inside your heart. Thanks. I love you.”

Later we were talking about that song and I said, “I couldn’t text the line – I don’t want to change your life. Changing your life is one of my main objectives.”

She said, “I know. Me too.”

I said, “And I hope you keep changing mine.”

She said, “I know. Me too.”

I had been listening to an audio book by Elizabeth Gilbert titled Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage. She wrote, “Love limits, almost by definition. Love narrows. The great expansion we feel in our hearts when we fall in love is matched only by the great restrictions that will necessarily follow.”

To personalize Gilbert’s writing, I would say Cyndi and I have an easygoing relationship, but don’t be fooled: I have claimed her as my own. Her energies belong to me and to no one else – not even entirely to herself anymore. She owes me things like information, explanations, fidelity, constancy, and details about the most mundane little aspects of her life. And I belong to her, in exactly the same measure. Elizabeth Gilbert wrote about her husband, “I have therefore fenced him off from the rest of the herd.”

The Apostle Paul wrote the same thing in I Corinthians 7:4 – “For the wife has no longer full rights over her own person, but shares them with her husband. In the same way the husband shares his personal rights with his wife.”

For some people, these may be good reasons never to get married. Why allow another person rights over your own body? Who would want that? Wouldn’t you rather be in charge of yourself and not have to answer to anyone?

The verse reminded me of a scene in the movie Air Force One (1997) with Harrison Ford, after the airplane had been hijacked and the president chose NOT to use the secret escape pod but instead remained on the plane. When his team back in Washington learned that he didn’t take the opportunity to escape one of them criticized his decision: “He has no right not to escape. Doesn’t he know he belongs to the country and not to himself?” (That is an approximate quote; it’s been awhile since I last saw the movie.)

His point was that the office of President was bigger than the selfish wishes of one single man. The President of the United States lived his life in a bigger story and he was responsible to a wider sphere.

I think that is what Apostle Paul was talking about in I Corinthians when he said neither husbands nor wives have absolute rights over themselves, but they belong to each other. We give up our personal rights in order to live in a bigger story, to move beyond our selfish personal self-interest and live in a wider sphere.

Again, from Elizabeth Gilbert, “This is what intimacy does to us over time. That’s what a long marriage can do: It causes us to inherit and trade each other’s stories. This, in part, is how we become annexes of each other, trellises on which each other’s biography can grow. His private history becomes a piece of my memory; my life gets woven into the material of his.”

As for me, I like being woven into Cyndi’s story. It’s true that I go to great lengths to keep my life private and to limit my exposure and to minimize expectations and to keep to myself. Yet being responsible to Cyndi and knowing she has ownership over my personal rights is one of the best parts of my life. I don’t resent checking in with Cyndi before scheduling something on my calendar – rather, I am happy to have someone to check in with, someone who cares enough about me to have an opinion. I’m glad to know I am not alone but on a team with someone else.

 

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://www.journalentries.org

Journal entry 050610: Weight of fear

“The more afraid you are, the heavier your pack will be,” said Dr. Warren Doyle, legendary Appalachian Trail hiker, and his words caused me to stop working and pull out my 3x5 cards to make notes. I was listening to a podcast called ATHiking while working on the drip irrigation system we use to water the potted plants in front of our house. Dr. Doyle was talking about backpacking and how we tend to load too much heavy stuff into our packs “just in case.” The more things we are afraid of the more gear we pack, and the heavier our pack becomes.

I remembered reading a similar sentiment from Erin McKittrick, who wrote a book about trekking 4,000 miles from Seattle to the Aleutian Islands with her husband, titled A Long Trek Home: “Backpacks are the curse of backpackers. If we carried nothing we could be light and agile on our feet. But we would also be spending all our time simply trying to survive.” She continued, “Each ounce we carried made our trip more possible, more enjoyable, more comfortable, and safer. And each ounce we carried made our trip less possible, less enjoyable, less comfortable, and less safe.”

When I go up into the Guadalupe Mountains I take some gear other backpackers would leave behind to save weight. I take a tent because I like having my stuff inside with me and I like my privacy, and because I am afraid of getting rained on. Those might seem silly since I do most of my backpacking in the desert in one of the least-crowded National Parks in America, but it has rained at least one night during almost every one of my trips. I am considering trying a lightweight tarp instead of a full tent during the warmer months. It does seem funny to worry about privacy when the actual number of times I have shared a camp site with other hikers is outnumbered by the number of times I have been rained on.

I take an air mattress because I am afraid of the aches and pains I get from sleeping on the ground.

I take three gallons of water because I am afraid of running out. However, at eight pounds per gallon, I should consider taking less water. I should push myself on this and take some risk and try to lower the weight.

I take a headlamp, not because I am worried about being outside after dark, which I seldom am other than for waste disposal, but because I am afraid of not being able to read my book or write in my journal at night in my tent.

I take an emergency bivi bag on my solo day hikes because it makes Cyndi happy and in case I turn my knee or blow out my ankle and, being unable to hike out, have to wait alongside the trail until someone comes along, which could be days.

Some places where I have reduced weight by accepting risk are leaving changes of clothes at home, taking a smaller first aid kit, doing little or no cooking.

But of course the reason I heard the quote by Dr. Doyle so clearly was because his statement was bigger than backpacking. Fear adds weight to our life. Fear presses down on us and limits our movements and squashes our freedom. Fear makes us heavy on our feet, and unlikely to try new things. Jon Katz wrote in his blog, Bedlam Farm Journal, “Fear is a great depleter, and the more you feel it, the less you feel the wonder of life. Fear kills the adventure of life.”

Wow, I guess I should ask myself, why all these quotes about fear? Where did this come from? What am I afraid of?

I can answer that. I am most afraid of looking silly. That fear shapes more of my behaviors than I am willing to let people know about. I am sure it has held me back from many adventures that God has put in front of me.

However, I don’t believe it is as heavy a load on me today as it was a dozen years ago. Just as growing and maturing as a backpacker means learning what to take and what to leave at home, growing as a Christian means trusting God and emptying my pack. It also means living in community. One of the reasons my fears have declined a bit is because I’ve learned I am not on a permanent solo backpacking trip where all my survival gear comes from my own kit, but I am on an expedition and surrounded by fellow travelers who share their strengths with me even as I help shoulder some of their fears. Being on the trail together wards off fears.

1 John 4:18 says, “Well-formed love banishes fear.” (MSG) Knowing we don’t have to do this all by ourselves is way less scary, and much lighter.

 

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

 

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/

 

Journal Entry 042910: Marathon diary

Sunday, April 25, 2010, 5:30 AM ...In the Bricktown Residence Inn for the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon; we were suited up, had applied preemptive band-aids, and were psyched to run. Cyndi was doing the half-marathon out of deference to a newly sore knee; i was running the marathon because it had been so long since my last one.

6:30 AM … At the race start with thousands of runners. I wasn’t nervous aboutgoing the distance even though this was my first marathon attempt since 2003, but I was nervous about taking so long to finish that Cyndi would get tired of waiting for me. My longest training run was a 19-miler, 4 weeks prior. However, I woke up that morning with a fever called Comeback Trail. I was ready to get started. Like it says in Psalms 19:5, “a champion rejoicing to run his course.”

8:00 AM … It was nothing but head wind and uphill from mile 9 all the way to the turnaround at Lake Hefner, about mile 14. It was a huge relief to finally turn my back to the wind and start back toward town. Unfortunately, downhills and tailwinds never give back as much as uphills and headwinds take.

11:00 AM … I phoned Cyndi at mile 20 to tell her where I was and that I wouldn’t finish before the hotel check-out time. She knew that, already.

I was surprised that the marathon offered pretzels at every aid station. It was apparently important since they used 5 or 6 volunteers to do this at every opportunity. I passed on the pretzels. They didn’t look that appetizing to me. I also passed on the GU packets. I had been chewing on Gel Blocks, and GU would’ve been too much shock to my belly.

I drank one PowerAid mixed with one water at every aid station, and it turned out to be just right. I never felt dehydrated and never had to make a pit stop.

12:00 AM … I hit the wall at mile 24, but managed to keep my run/walk pattern for another mile. Then, at mile 25, I was done. It was all I could do to walk in from there.

I took a personal inventory. My knees didn’t hurt worse that they did at mile 5, my feet had blisters but they weren’t getting worse, my hips didn’t hurt at all and that is usually one of my biggest concerns. So my only reason to quit was mental fatigue, which was indefensible, and my general lack of energy. But I knew that the human brain lies to itself claiming to be exhausted when it actually has a lot left (an evolutionary thing, so there will be a reserve of energy available when a lion comes over the horizon), so I assumed the tiredness I felt was not an accurate picture. I just kept going.

About mile 26 I saw Cyndi patiently waiting for me (she had finished her race hours before). I also saw the finish line. There aren’t many things that look better than a finish line; unless it is my smiling wife standing alongside. I wanted to finish the day running instead of walking so I tried to start back up, only to stumble and almost fall to the pavement from deep cramps in both calves. That was weird and unpredictable. But after a few baby steps I managed to get both feet off the ground into a peg-legged run across the line.

12:38 AM … I finished in a painfully slow 6:08, definitely my slowest marathon, ever, by at least 40 minutes. But still, it was a great race. The volunteers and enthusiasm and aid stations and music were great. Many of the neighborhoods we ran through hosted yard parties and they hollered and cheered as we ran past. And downtown OKC was beautiful and fun.

1:00 PM … We left for home soon after I exited the finish chute. Since Cyndi had checked out of the hotel before I finished, I changed clothes in a gas station men's room on the way to the airport. I left my running socks on, though. I knew my feet had been massacred and I was afraid they would hurt worse if I looked at them. So I didn’t. I left my socks on until bedtime.

I had worked too hard not to strut a little, I so I decided to wear something marathony. The official race packet T-shirt was plain white cotton (I'll save it for our marathon quilt), but the finisher shirt was dark green and made of technical fabrics. Very nice. I wore it home, and it was fun to see other green finisher shirts scattered around the airport. Marathoners would nod their heads in approval and wave from 100' away, an instant camaraderie between us. It’s funny how you can have more in common with someone you've never met than someone you might work with for years, simply because they have a finisher shirt on,

Monday morning: next-day ... I felt surprisingly good.  While walking Lady around the park I realized that I was no more sore than if I'd hiked Guadalupe Peak over the weekend, and that was an acceptable level of discomfort. Of course, it could’ve been the four Advil I’d taken that morning. My toes were a mess, but a few Band-Aids and a few days off would take care of that.

I’d experienced no structural problems, by which I mean my knees still worked, my ankles and feet were fine (I got several significant blisters on my toes, but I think that was due mostly to the weird effects of aging, and I was certain I could prevent that in the future). My only limitations were mental toughness (always a risky thing to count on) and conditioning (something I can work on). Conclusions? I can and will, do this again.

I really enjoyed this marathon. It was a risky choice to run so late in the year. I think this is probably the last race of the season without going to Minnesota, but they scheduled this race to coincide with the bombing of April 1995. I was amazed how the citizens of OKC have turned that great tragedy into energy. I lost count how many times a race volunteer or course marshal said to me as I was passing by, “Thanks for coming; thanks for helping us remember.” It made me proud to be part of their memorial observance.

This was my 8th marathon finish, and while that’s a lot compared to the general population, it’s not so many among marathon runners. However, it wasn’t so long ago that I thought my marathon days were behind me due to a nagging left knee injury that left me limping most of the time. I was sad about that. Not sad that I was injured, but sad that I hadn’t run more when I had the chance. Now I hope to take advantage of this second opportunity.

To be honest, I don’t believe everyone has to run marathons, or run at all, for that matter. If you do, it will add value to your life … physical value, fitness value, health value, mental value, and spiritual value. Finishing a marathon is transformational. It changes you.

However, if not running marathons, all of us should do something that adds energy to our lives, something that makes our heart come alive. Peter Drucker once said, “Nothing good happens by chance; left on its own, most things unravel.” If we aren’t intentional about feeding our spirit and watching over our heart, we will unravel. This marathon was another intentional effort on my part to feed my heart. I wish I had run faster, but comeback trails are long and slow. But they are satisfying and full of hope.

 

 

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

Stories of life

I just read a quick book titled: “It all Changed in an Instant: More Six-Word Memoirs.” I first heard the editors taking about the book on NPR a few weeks ago, and then I saw it at the small bookstore in Alpine, so I bought it. The premise behind the book began with an apocryphal story about Ernest Hemingway who supposedly responded to a bar bet to write a novel in only six words with this: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” No one knows if the story is true, but those six words certainly tell a story.

So the editors of Smith Magazine asked people to tell the true story of their own lives in six words and over 250,000 six-word memoirs have been submitted. The book I read is the third collection they’ve published.

I read all the six-word memoirs in the book and I was surprised how revealing they were. Some caught my breath at the implications. For example, Peter Loux submitted, “Army or jail? I chose wrong.” Not only do we know he got into some sort of trouble that left him with an unfortunate choice, but we don’t know which (wrong) choice he made. There is clearly much more to this story.

Abbe Shapiro wrote, “Expected forever. Have restraining order instead.” In two phrases his story went from hope to despair. His life is not what he expected.

Jill Steinmetz wrote, “Will finish novel after grading papers.” I know too many stories that are just like that: I will own my own studio after grading papers, or I will record my CD after grading papers, or I will publish my book after oil and gas, or I will pay attention to my family after I am successful.

I was intrigued by Melissa Maxwell’s submission: “Tattoos made my skin more ‘me.’” Having no desire to customize my own skin I have never understood the need or desire of other people to make permanent alterations to themselves. I am more likely to remove labels and paint over logos or make name-brand stuff look incognito and generic than I am to mark it up to get attention. It never occurred to me that an alteration could seem more authentic to someone.

A woman named Clare Hobba submitted this memoir: “Unraveled career, re-knitted as baby blankets.” I thought that was a good description of a journey from a hopeless situation – broken career – to one full of hope.

And Tammy Ray Wilson wrote, “Dancing naked in my empty nest.” I asked Cyndi if she was using Tammy Ray Wilson as a pseudonym and she denied it, but I’m not so sure.

Some of the submissions were very clever. The Amazing Kreskin (a presumptive first name, if you ask me) wrote, “Now, I know what you’re thinking.” And this by Caitlin O’Conner, “I have finally learned cliffhangers are …”

I will admit, a couple of the submissions made me stop and reevaluate my own story. Aaron Renier wrote, “Off in my own little world.” That, to be honest, is my fear of fears. It’s what wakes me up at night and what often shuts me down before I begin. I don’t really believe it logically, but in my heart the enemy’s attack comes in the form of the fear that I am off teaching and writing in my own little trivial world and that people are just putting up with me because I am occasionally funny. But then someone like Mark reminds me to “turn around and look at how full this bus is; people want to go wherever you go.” Thanks, Mark, I need that.

Another six-word memoir that I hope to avoid was by Kirstin Pesula-McEarchern: “Author of so many unwritten books.” I wrote in the margin, “Please, not me.” I want to write and publish them all, whether or not anyone reads them. I hope my last submission is in process the day I die.

So, Sunday night I sat across a table from Cyndi, at Rosa’s, of course, and read my favorite entries from the book. I also showed her my own attempts at telling my true story in six words.

I showed her this one: “Wanderer, student, introspective, lover, dreamer, loyal.” Cyndi said, “That’s just a string of descriptive words; it isn’t a story.” She was correct, of course, which caused me to scratch off three of my other attempts which seemed to be word strings as well.

I said, how about this: “Love a dancer, now I dance.” She knew I was talking about her influence on my life and she liked that part, but said, “Thanks, but your story is bigger than that.”

OK, how about this one: “Always leaning forward into the future.” She thought that one was better, but still more of a goal than a story. She wanted to hear my favorite. She’s been through this sort of thing with me before and she knew I was holding back my best idea. I read: “Miles to go before I sleep.” That was her favorite, as well. “Your story is, that your story isn’t over, and you have many miles to go yet.” Good girl; no wonder I love her so much. I have a lot of miles to go, and books, and essays, and talks, and friends, and adventures to go, before bedtime.

 

And so I’ll ask, why don’t you give it a try? Can you tell the true story of your life in six words? It doesn’t have to be perfect. You can stamp “draft’ across it so you can change it later. But try it. And send it to me, or post in the comments of my blog. I need to know you better. I want to read your story.

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/

 

What matters

Sunday night Cyndi and I played with the First Baptist Church orchestra, along with the praise singers and big-church choir in the musical production by Travis Cottrell: Jesus Saves. It was great. The entire evening was full of energy and worship, and it was fun to be playing my trombone again after a long hiatus. I took last year off from orchestra because of my added deacon responsibilities, and then in the fall I stopped playing with the praise band when I started teaching adult Bible class again. I felt I had to make those adjustments in my schedule, but I sure missed playing. And even more than missing the music, I was concerned that if I put my trombone down for too long I’d never pick it up again; playing ads too much value to my life to let it slip away.

So we were rehearsing before the actual performance (always a risky thing for me since I don’t have the chops for two hours of rehearsing and another 1-1/2 hour of performing) when my friend Paul sat on the pew beside me for a few minutes to talk and to watch what we were doing. On one piece I played a tied whole note, eight beats. It was soft, and I was the only brass instrument playing at that moment, except for the army of keyboards and guitars and drums. My part was barely audible, even to me as I played it. Paul said, “When you just have one note to play you have to trust that it matters.”

He got it exactly right.

When playing in a large ensemble like that, there is so much going all the time, you have to trust that your own small parts matter and really make a difference. Of course, there were moments Sunday night when the trombones were featured and we were sufficiently bombastic and everyone heard us and it clearly mattered. But most of the time, very few would notice the difference if we had stopped playing entirely.

So how can I know if what I do matters? After all, I am not interested in doing things that don’t matter. If my contributions aren’t obvious, why make them at all? I guess you could argue that if each of us put down our instruments and played only the exposed solo parts, it would not sound good at all. The music only works when everyone plays their part, no matter how subdued or quiet. And eventually people will notice the gaps and know the sound isn’t right, even if they don’t know the reason.

Like Paul said, “You have to trust that it matters.” And isn’t that true with all those things we do as teachers and leaders and parents and spouses. We have to trust that the small un-noticed things matter. Jesus spoke directly to the importance of doing the small things right when he said, “He who is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much” (Luke 16:10, NAS).

One of my favorite observations is how young children want to put their own fingers on a wall switch and turn the lights on and off, all by themselves. As adults, we never make a big deal of turning the lights on, never point out, “See, switch goes up and the light goes on, switch goes down and the light goes off.” We just turn the lights on and off without fanfare and without even thinking about it. Yet, young kids still pick up on what we do and they want to imitate the actions. The small things matter. Our consistencies matter. How we live out our lives, matters.

In his book, The Gospel According to Starbucks, Leonard Sweet admonished the reader to “grow a soul that is a beautiful work of art, a soul with such sensitivities that it can pick up signals of transcendence in the most unlikely of places, a soul with such strength that it can experience the subtleties of life that separate the good from the bad, and the good from the great.” The notion of growing a soul makes sense to me, and I realize it has been my goal for a long time now even if I didn’t know how to express it so well. I often talk about my goal of aging gracefully. What I mean when I say that is that I want to grow my soul into a work of art. I think the biggest part of that is doing the small things right and trusting that they matter.

My friend Paul would never have noticed me playing that F for eight counts if he hadn’t been sitting beside me. It was a small thing; so small that I had to trust that it mattered. Maybe it is that act of trusting that turns horn players into musicians, teachers in mentors, parents into mommies and daddies, spouses into lovers. Maybe that act of trusting is what makes ordinary people become inspiring and contagious, and turns whole notes into works of art.

 

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/

One day barefoot

I’m not sure which are my best features, but I’m fairly certain they aren’t my feet. I have flat arches, my toes crisscross, I have little strength or flexibility for downward dog, I can’t sit with my feet tucked under me, and I can only point my toes in my imagination. At any time I have at least one toenail turning black from running or hiking. I have bunions and calluses and, well, you get the picture. More that you wanted.

So it may come as a surprise that I signed up to join the “One Day Without Shoes” event, at the request of my friend Jordan Witte.

The official website says: ‘One Day Without Shoes is the day we spread awareness about the impact a simple pair of shoes can have on a child’s life. On April 8th, we ask people to go the day, part of the day or even just a few minutes, barefoot, to experience a life without shoes first-hand, and inspire others at the same time.”

I’ve been around people who spend their entire lives barefoot, and while their feet may be tougher and stronger than mine, very little of the rest of their life looks better. I am glad that I’ve lived my life in shoes.

However, after spending last summer reading the book, “Born to Run,” I decided to give barefoot running a try. Since, in addition to all my other foot issues, my feet are soft and tender, I knew I couldn’t really go barefoot. I had to wear something on my feet.

So I started off by running one mile in my socks, on the grass in a local park, one day each week. It felt better than I expected. In fact, it felt so good that on my third attempt I went two miles in my socks. That turned out to be a big mistake. I limped for days. Apparently a 100% increase in distance was bad. I was embarrassed because I should have known better; I’m an incremental sort of guy and I made a goofy beginner mistake.

But I stayed at it. I ran for a couple of months (still, one day per week) in some cheap water shoes. When I wore those out, I bought a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. Once I learned how to put them on, they were great. I’ve been running in them three miles at a time, once a week.

But what is the point, you might ask? Not simply to toughen up the soles of my feet (who needs tough soles), but to make my feet stronger, to improve my stride and balance and to minimize injury. It was an intentional attempt on my part to become a better runner. I’ve learned I can’t change very much in my life, or change the world around me, by drifting through life. Drifting worked for Forrest Gump, but it doesn’t work for real people in real life. You have to be intentional.

When Jordan first invited me to join her “One Day Without Shoes” event, I asked if my Vibrams counted. She said, no.

So I psyched myself to run today completely barefoot, skin on the ground, for three miles. And I did it. I ran on sidewalks and asphalt and on grass. The sidewalk was the easiest.

I’ll be honest; it was less than pleasant. I had to stop often and pick pebbles out of my feet and remove stickers. I had to keep a close eye out for acorns. When I got back to the gym I had to put two Band-Aids on each foot to cover the broken blisters.

Being fifty-three years old might be too late to start a barefoot lifestyle. My feet have been protected in shoes for a long time. I doubt I will try true barefoot running again; at least, not for another year.

But here’s the deal. For me, going barefoot is a training technique. It’s an indulgence. It’s a choice. And I’ve lived my entire life in a world with lots of choices. The point of the One Day Without Shoes campaign is not to draw attention to people like me who make (what you may consider to be) goofy choices. It is to focus attention on people who really don’t have choices. For three miles, today, I felt their pain.

 

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

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

Follow Berry on Twitter at @berrysimpson … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org

To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: http://journalentries.typepad.com/journal-entries/