Journal entry 051911: Things that still matter

Tuesday morning, while sitting in one of my favorite booths, I read this: “The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9, NAS) It took me back to a Sunday evening in Norman, Oklahoma, in 1978, when I was reading in my Bible and came across this same verse. Although that night, when I read it, the words I heard in my brain were not exactly the same as the words printed on the page of my Bible. Somehow they morphed into a different phrase as they passed through my eyes. The phrase that reverberated through my brain was, “Marry Cyndi.”

The statement wasn’t totally out-of-the-blue, as if it were about some girl I didn’t know except to see across the college campus. Cyndi and I had been dating for two years. Well, we attended different universities and lived several hundred miles apart, so our dating took place during summer breaks and Christmas holidays. We wrote a lot of letters and made expensive long-distance phone calls. And to be honest, I’m pretty sure Cyndi had been thinking about marrying me for a long time before I got around to thinking about it. Being a woman of action, she was ready.

(On a side note: while working on this Journal, I sent Cyndi a text: “When did you first start thinking about marrying me?” I was expecting, at the earliest, after our first summer together. She wrote back: “As a sophomore in the high school band while sitting in the percussion section.” Two observations: (1) I was stunned that I made her list of potentials so early, since I didn’t expect to be on anybody’s list in high school; and (2) Guys are always surprised at how early this topic comes up among women.)

Sitting in my apartment in Norman, a man of patient contemplation, I wasn’t finished thinking about marriage yet. I still had more analysis to do, more options to weigh, more data to consider, more courage to ramp up; and I might have done exactly that for another couple of years except for that Sunday evening message when God told me: “Trust the plans you have in your mind because I have been directing your steps all along.”

After than night I never doubted the decision again. I still had to ask Cyndi (we hadn’t talked about it - at all - up to that point), and that was a frightening thought for me. I wasn’t scared that she would say “no,” but I was nervous about making a lifelong commitment when I knew so little about life-long things. The big-pictureness of it all scared me.

Sunday morning in our young adult Bible study class (I was there as a teacher, not as a young adult) we talked about how simple daily decisions might matter for decades.

I mentioned to them that that very morning we sang/played “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” in the 8:30 AM retro-worship service. The hymn was written in 1529. Martin Luther was simply expressing his faith through music, yet we are still singing it 482 years later. Of course he had no idea it would last so long … if he had known, it probably would have paralyzed him and he might’ve been unable to write any songs at all, much less inspiring ones.

How we live, how we tell our story of God’s grace, might matter for a very long time.

I also told a story from last week when I went with my Mom and Dad to tour a garden home in the Manor Park Village. They’re considering a move to Midland, and we wanted to see if this was a space they could live in. Our host, owner of the garden home, was a delightful 95-year-old woman who showed us her living room and bed room and closets and bathroom and kitchen, all without fear. But when she offhandedly mentioned that she’d once lived in Kermit, Texas, I saw both of my parents stop in their tracks. They started throwing out names of people they both knew, and quickly determined that our host sang in the choir when my Dad was the music minister at Grace Temple Baptist Church, around 1963. What a cool and unexpected reunion.

Once again I was reminded that how we live our life might matter, still, even 50 years later.

In the margin of my Daily Bible, next to Proverbs 16:9, I once drew a small heart with an arrow through it, to remind me of the importance of the verse. (Based on the ink color, I did the drawing in 1999.) And Tuesday morning when I saw it again I was reminded once more how the grace of God can span decades. I was glad I’d drawn the picture. I need constant reminders in my life, especially about important spiritual events. Otherwise I’ll talk myself out of believing it was God’s direct intervention. That heart-with-arrow is an Ebenezer mark for me, and reminds me that it matters how I live.

In this case, it has mattered for 33 years.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 051211: Closing the gap

This is one of my favorite Bible verses: “Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.” (Psalm 37:4 NLT) Unfortunately my heart’s desires seldom square with my own performance.

I was reading “A Hidden Wholeness,” by Parker J. Palmer, and he wrote, “As the outer world becomes more demanding … the more we stifle the imagination that journey requires. Why? Because imagining other possibilities for our lives would remind us of the painful gap between who we most truly are and the role we play in the so-called real world.”

Friday morning I went out early on my bike, hoping to get in a significant ride before the wind got bad. Since I’m on Kevin Duty Saturday mornings, I try to work in my long rides or long runs on Friday. For me, a long ride is 25-30 miles, and I was planning to ride from my house west through neighborhoods, eventually finding my way to Highway 191. I knew if I rode all the way to Mid-Cities Church before turning back home I would get in a good 27 miles.

I discovered during the first mile that my plan to beat the wind failed. I left the house at 8:00 AM and the wind was already howling from the southwest. My bike is a hybrid, meaning narrow tires but straight handlebars, so I have few aerodynamic riding options. Mostly I just keep going. I remind myself that since we don’t have hills around Midland riding into the wind is the toughest thing I can do.

I was pushing past Grasslands toward the Highway 158 cutoff when I noticed two cyclists coming up behind me. I’m used to being passed, whether riding or running, so it was not surprising that they gained on me. As the two women passed, one of them said, “Good morning, sir. Good ride.” I was hoping she called me “sir” because of the gray in my hair and beard - it made me feel a little better about being dropped so quickly if I imagined I had 20 years on them.

The two riders ducked under the 158 underpass and headed back toward town, and I thought, “Of course they passed me. They aren’t going as far as I am. I’ll bet they’re headed back to Starbuck’s. Besides, they don’t already have 10 miles in like I do.”

I felt smug and manly for the next three miles because the women turned back and I was still bucking the wind. Until, that is, about a mile before the Mid-Cities turnaround, when I noticed three more cyclists coming up hard behind me. As they got closer I recognized the same two women who’d passed me before. Bummer.

They rolled past me with ease. Apparently they were fighting a different wind than I was. And, they were accompanied by a gray-haired gentleman, at least as old as me, riding a recumbent bike. Not only did they NOT go back to Starbuck’s, they picked up a friend and managed to ride me down a second time. And as I took measure of my defeat I noticed that the three of them rode past the Mid-Cities turnaround, meaning they were also riding further than I was.

It is a hard lesson to realize your best efforts can be exceeded so quickly, almost effortlessly, by someone else. Knowing I am a beginning cyclist and they had lots of miles in their legs, knowing I will get better and stronger and faster as I ride further more often, made me feel a little better. But. Still.

It would be easy to put my bike away with the justification that getting passed so soundly while I was riding my best meant I should stop and try something else. The painful gap, as mentioned by Parker Palmer, between who I really am and who I want to be, might be too wide to bridge.

I remembered a similar incident from the NYC Marathon when I was passed by a guy wearing a pink tutu and juggling three yellow tennis balls. He ran right past me and on down the street, juggling all the way. Even while doing my best I was still passed by a juggling goofy guy.

The thing is, a cycling gap is easy to digest, and more time on my bike will reduce it. The gaps that are more troubling are those between my perception of myself and the reality as a husband, as a father, as a writer, as a teacher.

But if we sit down every time we get passed we’ll spend our entire life in the chair and never on the road. We’ll never experience the journey God has for us. We’ll focus all our energies on the size of the gap rather than on the dreams in our heart. And the world won’t change, and no one will miss us when we’re gone.

Fortunately we are not alone when it comes to closing those gaps. We have the Holy Spirit to help us, and we have each other.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 050511: The need to love

She said, “You’re perfect. You, the ball, and the diamond, you’re this perfectly beautiful thing. You can win or lose the game, all by yourself. You don’t need me.” It was Jane Aubrey’s breakup speech to professional baseball player Billy Chapel, in the 1999 movie For Love of the Game. She said it on the morning of his greatest game, even though neither of them knew it would also be his last game. It was a great movie, one of those movies I missed when it was first released.

It’s a movie about a hall-of-fame-bound pitcher who’s natural talents allowed him to remain in adolescence until he was 40 years old, when he finally realized he needed other people, specific people, to make his life meaningful. Before that moment, he didn’t need anyone, or at least, didn’t want to need anyone.

It feels and sounds noble to not need anything or anyone, to be self-sufficient, to not cause trouble for anyone, to be one-man-alone, to be low-impact and low-maintenance, but it comes at a high price. The best day of his career, not just best for him but best in the world of baseball, ended with Chapel sitting in his hotel room all alone, by himself. A high price for self-sufficiency

Watching the movie made me wonder, can you be in love with someone if you don’t need them? Is needing someone a prerequisite to being in love? I wonder how many people refuse to fall in love because they are afraid to be needy.

Allowing yourself to need someone means willful vulnerability. It means risk, and there can be no love without risk. If nothing is at risk, that’s just dating fun-and-games.

Of course, “loving” someone and being “in love” with someone are different relationships. As in, I can love you and take care of you and even sacrifice for you without being in love with you. However, I don’t think I can be in love with you unless I need you.

Does God love us without needing us? It’s hard to believe an omnipresent, omniscient God, total and complete in Himself , needs anyone or anything.. But in the Bible we read story after story about God coming after His people to give them more chances. Maybe He does need us? Or maybe He needs to love us?

How should we respond to God’s love? Some of us try to earn everything we receive, so we don’t really need any help. We can handle it all as long as we know the rules and expectations ... but that isn’t really about love, it’s about achievement. However, there is another possible response. Because of God’s grace, everything we need is freely given to us, which allows us to be dependent and vulnerable and needy. That opens the door to love.

It also describes a good marriage.

I know that For Love of the Game is just a movie about baseball and I’m probably laying too much of a burden on the story, but sometimes I get a movie in my head and it stays there for days, rolling around like Billy Chapel rolling a baseball in his hands. It happens to me when a movie taps into a bigger story than they know. It is that bigger, epic story that captures me.

So here is my own epic love story. I was feeling independent and self-sufficient, like most young men, and didn’t know I needed Cyndi, until I lost her. It was May 1978. Fortunately for me I was only 22 years old with plenty of years ahead of me to learn how to be needy. And now, 33 years later, it makes me happy to need her. Anything less wouldn’t be love.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 042811: Not the easy way

It seems I am often telling my 8-year-old nephew that he can’t always take the easy way out, can’t always make the easy choice. I am usually saying that when he wonders why I parked my pickup so far from the front door of Lowe’s when there were several obviously available parking spaces much closer. Back in the old days when my own kids asked why we parked so far out I’d answer, “Because we are the long distance family,” and they would roll their eyes and be sorry they asked.

I tried that one on Kevin a few times but he reminded me that I was his uncle and not his dad, so he wasn’t technically part of the same long-distance Simpson clan. So I switched to my “don’t always do the easy thing” pitch. He hasn’t bought into that one, yet, either.

“Why not do it the easy way?”

“Because if you always do things the easy way, if you always look for the easiest way out, you’ll end up a very lazy grown-up, and lazy people can’t change the world.”

Kevin isn’t yet rolling his eyes at me like Katie did, but girls come to the eye-rolling move much younger than boys. However, I’m sure he thinks I’m wacky and out-of-touch and too old to be trusted, the same way I thought about my own dad, and he thought about his dad, and so on, all the way back to Cain and Able doubting the things Adam said. It’s the generic response from kids when their grown-ups turn small decisions into grand character-building opportunities.

At this point, Kevin doesn’t care about changing the world. But he does hope to avoid all inconveniences and detours, the sooner to get back home and return to his MacGyver DVDs.

And I’ll admit, I often wonder the value of doing the hard things. I remember a couple of years ago, after I came home from one of my solo backpacking trips into the Guadalupe Mountains, I was exhausted from hauling my heavy backpack full of water up 3,000’ feet to the campsites and my knees were sore and I wondered if there wasn’t a place I could go with available water that didn’t require such a huge climb as the first thing.

After a few days of recovery I realized that there was still some value in what I was doing, God was still speaking to me through the effort and I shouldn’t be so quick to find an easier solution. Maybe there will come a day when an easier trail is the right answer.

I recently heard James Johnson read his (This I Believe) essay about what he learned while duck hunting with his dad: “I learned that discomfort is transient. I learned that I was a welcome burden to my dad, that life without burden is a life without weight, a shallow life. I believe we need the encumbrance of challenge.”

I once wrote about this sort of thing myself while sitting at the junction of Tejas and Juniper Trails, leaning against a fallen log. I was mulling over the burden that comes with love and family. There is no love without struggle; love is a package deal. I knew a man who tried to be a husband and father without taking any of the daily burdens - he didn’t understand love. He claimed to be making things easier on everyone else, yet he missed his opportunity to change his part of the world.

But now, in the name of full disclosure, I cannot write about taking the easy way out without confessing my lame attempt at biking on Tuesday. I left the house all psyched to fight the wind like a man of bold character, knowing I could bask in my superiority later that evening in front of my woman at Taco Tuesday. But when I turned my bike west on Bluebird Lane, into the wind, and my speed dropped to 7 mph, and I knew there was nothing but 3-1/2 miles of humiliating headwind before even the slightest break, well, I broke my resolve. I turned my bike around and rode - well, flew - back home, enjoying the benefits of a strong tailwind while doubting if I was really a manly man. Afterward I went to Gold’s Gym to ride the stationary exercise bicycle for half an hour to recover some portion of my pride.

It isn’t about always doing things the hard way; it is about not always avoiding the hard things simply because they are hard. Sometimes when Kevin is not with me I park as close as possible to the front door of Lowe’s. No need to be stubborn about it. We don’t have to seek out burdens; life brings enough on its own. Just don’t be too quick to avoid them. A life without burden is a life without weight, a shallow life.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 042111: Conversations from the trail

Last Saturday I joined 35 other people from Midland to hike the trail to the top of Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas. Even though it was my 15^th trip to the top, the hike hasn’t gotten any easier. It’s a hard day every time we go.

I told Paul, after we finally cleared the opening mile of switchbacks, “Surely there is an easier way to do ministry.” Well, there might be, but I doubt easier is the same thing as better. I don’t know any other way to duplicate the time I get to spend with my guys; the extended conversations along the trail are my favorite part of the trip.

This time I talked about our trip to Austin the previous day to meet with the Teacher Retirement System folks. Cyndi is ready to move into the next phase of her life, devoting her energies to her studio, although those who know Cyndi also know she can never put all of her substantial energy into one single effort and that she will always have two handfuls of projects to fill one handful of time. Moving into her next phase requires retiring as an elementary school teacher. She is ready.

What we learned in Austin was helpful and necessary - but it wasn’t what Cyndi expected or wanted to hear. We were planning on May 2011 for retirement, but TRS was planning on January 2012. Eight months is a short interval in the spread of our lives, but it is a huge time period from the perspective of today.

One fellow Iron Man hiker talked about the recent news of his upcoming career change and how the final position that he accepted was the one he’d preferred all along had he been given first choice, but one he thought was impossible because it was already filled. He said he would not feel comfortable praying for the other person to leave, so he pursued other jobs. So the answer to his prayer, while better than his immediate request, was not what he had been praying for (job #2 rather than the coveted job #1). He was happy the way it was working out, but curious that the answer to his praying was for a question he hadn’t asked.

Another Iron Man talked about his position as a university professor and how it felt very precarious in light of current state budget predictions. It is easy for us to say government spends way too much money; especially if we aren’t talking about the salary of a gifted and dedicated hard-working family man. He talked about his options should he lose his current job, and we wondered with him about his future and what could we do to help.

Both conversations, about men praying for specific solutions while knowing God’s answer might be something totally different, reminded me of the Bible story about a rich young man who approached Jesus and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to get eternal life?” Jesus answered, “Why are you calling me good?” (Mark 10:17-18)

Jesus changed the opening question from what the man asked to the question the man should have asked. The man asked about eternal life, but it mattered more who he thought Jesus was. Jesus addressed the heart of the issue, “Who do you think I am.” How could the man follow advice from someone he didn’t know?

On the trail down the mountain I wondered aloud how often God answers the prayers we should have prayed rather than the actual prayers we were praying? Maybe we pray, “God, give me Option A,” but God knows what we should have asked for was Option B, so He gives us Option B instead. I expect that happens over and over; we only recognize it afterward, maybe a long time afterward..

In almost every case when I was aware God had answered a specific prayer in my life, especially prayers about career moves, He answered in ways I never anticipated. In fact, I often didn’t recognize His answer until months, even years, later, after I had enough time and distance from the immediate trauma to look objectively. More than once I sat across from Cyndi in a booth at Rosa’s ticking off the points where God had delivered exactly what I’d asked for yet not in the way I expected.

Some might say I was turning coincidences into answered prayer. Well, maybe, but I doubt it. Coincidences have never given me joy and hope like answered prayer has.

Maybe from now on my opening prayer should be, from now on, “God what should I pray for? What should I ask for? Teach me to trust you.”

To see photos from the hike: http://www.flickr.com/photos/berrysimpson/sets/72157626549736298/

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 041411: Some things I’ve been learning but haven’t been brave enough to write about yet

This summer I will turn 55 years old. To be honest, there are things I thought I would’ve outgrown by now, but haven’t. Apparently, outgrowing is messy.

Friday morning last week I was listening to a TED Talk Podcast while running (uncharacteristically,  before sunrise - Cyndi made me promise to get up when she did if I kept her up Thursday night). The talk was by University of Houston Professor of Social Work, Brene’ Brown, who described her first visit with a counselor, making this demand: “Here’s the thing. No family stuff. No childhood s**t. I just need strategies.”

Like Ms. Brown, I’ve spent my adult life seeking out strategies rather than causes.

I remembered back to 2003 when it took me three attempts to finish the book, Wild at Heart. Why would it take so long to read a book that has turned out to be a major influence on my life? Because I kept grinding down at the topic of personal wounds and spiritual attack. I thought it was psychobabble. I wasn’t interested in wounds. OK, so I was sure I had deep emotional wounds in my life just like everyone else, and I could even identify the results of those wounds from my own behavior, but not the wounds themselves.

My question to God was, “How should I deal with this” rather than “What are you saying to me; where am I hurting.”

It has taken eight years for me to understand.

I finally manned-up enough to pray, “God I want you to dig into my heart and show me the truth. You have my permission and cooperation.” The first time I heard back from God was late one Sunday night (Apr 2009), with this statement: “I am always second-string, never anyone’s first pick.” I understood immediately. That thought had lived in the back of my mind since childhood. I prayed: “What was that about?”

Three days later I heard the second message from God, while in the shower at Gold’s Gym: “I deserve better than I am getting.” And, immediately following: “If I don’t have a chance to win, I won’t play the game.” Again I knew in my heart those statements were true about me as soon as I heard them. Maybe they weren’t truly true, but they were truly from the deepest recesses of my heart. I prayed: “God, tell me more about this. Keep talking to me.”

It was a year before I heard another message (Aug 2010), this time it came during yoga class: “The wound you have been looking for all these years is this: you were THE second choice.” It felt frighteningly close to the bone.

The next day I spent a lot of time writing it all out in my journal. I sensed healing in the air and I didn’t want to miss the moment. Yet, what I wrote in my journal was something I would never have admitted out loud, something I would’ve argued against ...  until, it flowed out of my pen onto the page of my Moleskin: “When I depended on God most, He let me down. God cannot be trusted.”

Writing that with real ink in a hardbound journal was so raw and real, it took my breath. I had to sit back in my booth to settle my pounding heart. Yet, it felt true the minute I read it. Not true about God; true about me.

Old stories in which I thought God had let me down started flashing through my mind, flapping rapidly like someone thumbing a deck of cards. In that instant I saw them all. It was true. I’d never trusted God completely. In the deepest part of my heart I was convinced that God would let me down when I needed Him most.

The thing is, I never thought of myself as the guy who didn’t trust God, and I would’ve argued vigorously against that. Yet, I also knew I was not alone. The attack against my heart - that God cannot be trusted - is the oldest attack of all. It goes all the way back to Adam and Eve.

And another thing, when it comes to spiritual attack, there are no coincidences. The Enemy knows exactly when and where to hit us, to do the most damage, to take us out of the battle. Yet, I was reminded that it’s possible to rescue someone else even in the middle of a darkest wound. That is the grace of God.

It took a long journey down a crooked road for me to learn that I didn’t really trust God all those years. It also took a long conversation with a valued friend to find the peace I needed. Clarity is important, but it isn’t enough. Strategies aren’t enough, either. We also need community. We’re too close to our own stories, and we have too much at stake, to see clearly on our own. I needed someone else to listen, someone else to know. I’m walking lighter in my shoes now, relieved that I don’t have to carry my story alone. I have help.

And so, my daily prayer has become: “God, teach me to trust You.” I pray it several times a day. Every time I feel unstable, or misunderstood, or second-string, I pray, “Teach me to trust You.” I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fooling myself. I want to be the man who trusts God.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 040711: About dreams

So if you want to know the truth, I don’t understand dreams at all. I have dreams every night, and almost all of them are about fictional scenes or situations tied loosely to my real life. They are always a bit unreal, yet never completely abandon the rules of physics. I have never dreamed I could fly, for example. I wish I could steer my dreams to the scenes I want, and believe me, I’ve tried. But I can’t. At least for me, whatever portion of the brain is responsible for dreaming will not be manipulated or controlled.

Not only that, but dreams usually escape my consciousness almost immediately. They have a half-life of about 20 seconds, but occasionally they stick around long enough for me to remember them.

The reason I am writing about dreams is not because I am trying to channel Ezekiel, or even John Lennon, but because I spent the majority of Sunday night dreaming about hiking up a mountain trail. Not about sitting on a summit or under a big shade tree enjoying the view, but about hiking up the trail with backpack on my back and trekking poles flying by my side. Not in the sense of never being able to reach my destination (that’s a different dream), but rather about having more adventures ahead of me. I think it’s significant that my mind, on its own, returns to the image of covering miles on the trail.

I remember one hike up Guadalupe Peak when my friend Brandon said to me as we reached the summit, “Berry, I believe I could experience God’s presence just as well in a big chair in the shade near a Texas lake.” I would guess most people feel the same way Brandon does, and maybe I wish it was true for me as well. It sure would make my life easier. But for me, it’s the movement that often turns an experience into a spiritual encounter.

About this time last year I attended a weekend retreat in Colorado, where we talked a lot about our life calling and talents and dreams and desires. The other guys pointed out that most of the photos I liked and the stories I told and even the words I used were about roads and trails and journey and pathways. I was surprised to hear that from them; I hadn’t thought it was such an obvious part of my story. But then I remembered that at least ¾ of the photos I take while in the mountains feature the trail. My claim has always been that including the trail in the picture adds perspective and depth, but maybe it has always been the pull of the trail itself that made me dig out my camera. As in, “Look where I walked, wasn’t it cool?”

So speaking (or writing) about dreams, Wednesday night I was dreaming again about being on my feet, but this time I was running in a 10K race instead of hiking. The course was nothing but hills - the only flat places were the momentary tangents at the top of each hill and bottom of each valley. In my dream, I was a magnificent runner. I was clipping along with the lead pack, surrounded by young, fleet, flatbellies, the gray-haired sage doling out advice and retelling old race stories even as we ran. I was a little sad when the alarm clock went off at 5:40 AM. Usually I am happy to get out of bed for another Iron Man session, but alas, if I could have returned to my fast-running dream, I might have slept in this morning.

Well, like I said, I don’t know what to make of dreams. I don’t believe, as some do, in the universal symbolism of dreams. I think people are too different to have the same symbols. I do believe dreams are often symbolic, but specific and unique to the dreamer.

I also believe, after reading Mark Batterson, that many of our dreams are actually prayers - especially those dreams we have over and over.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 033111: This I believe: I have miles to go before I sleep

This is what I believe: Robert Frost was calling me out 90 years ago when he wrote his poem, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.

      The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

      But I have promises to keep,

      And miles to go before I sleep

The poem is about a man who wanted to enjoy the beauty of snow falling in the woods. (Stopping to smell the roses, so to speak, except there weren’t any roses in the winter.) But as peaceful as it made him feel, he had to move on. He couldn’t stop. No matter how nice it was, he had promises to keep, people who needed him, obligations to fulfill, and dreams yet to be dreamed.

Like the man in the poem I have a tendency to settle into life, stop dreaming, and stop pushing forward. It often takes a traumatic event to pull me out of my woods-gazing. One example was losing my job with a major oil company in 1994. I would’ve been content to sit at my desk in Midland and work out my days doing mundane engineering projects until retirement, but they fixed that for me. My employer kicked me out of the woods and on down the road.

The same was true about the end of my service as an elected official in city government. Had I been allowed, I would have stayed comfortably on the City Council for decades longer. I was effective at it, and I enjoyed it right up until the end. But looking back, it’s clear to me that I depended on it for weight and depth in my life, and I needed to move on. Left on my own I would have stayed gazing into the woods, hypnotic and pleasing and beautiful.

But again, like the man in the poem, I have promises to keep which I cannot fulfill if I stare too long into at the beautiful woods. Promises like:

      To mentor young married couples and inspire other men.

      To write my stories and insights so God can use them.

      To teach and speak from my heart.

      To be a lover and husband and supporter of Cyndi Simpson.

      To keep moving - running, backpacking, and cycling.

I don’t want to end up as one of those old silverbacks who continually lean against the past. I get tired of stories about how good things used to be. I want to lean forward into the future. I have promises to keep.

I also believe I have many more miles to go before I sleep: more to learn, more to change, more friends who’ll influence me.

Another famous writer, the Apostle Paul, wrote in Philippians 3:14, “I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.” (MSG) I believe my best and most exiting miles are ahead of me, and I want to cover them before I sit down. I don’t want to leave any miles un-run.

How about you? What poem tells your story?

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 032411: Spiritual training

Sunday I rode the Mid-Cities route on my bicycle, about 26 miles round-trip. That was a long ride for me at this point in my life, the furthest I’ve ridden in the modern era. It was windy but not impossible, and I worked hard the entire ride pushing my legs and pushing the pace. It was fun.

When I got home I was surprised to notice my legs weren’t weary. I was tired from the bike saddle and my hands and arms tingled from the handlebars, but those were minor discomforts which went away after a few minutes. However, I could feel the effort in my chest - heart and lungs - for several hours, and it felt good. It felt like I had worked hard.

I told Cyndi, “It’s been years since I could run hard enough for my lungs and heart to feel the strain. My knees won’t let me run that fast now. That’s one big advantage to cycling - I can work much harder.”

It wasn’t the same as being short-winded, which happens every time I carry my backpack up into the Guadalupe Mountains; this was more like that good soreness you feel in your muscles after lifting weights. It feels like success, like victory, like value-added, like accomplishment. That was how I felt after the ride.

I’m sorry to be going on and on about a simple bike ride that for my cycling friends was nothing but a simple warm-up jaunt, but as I said,  it has been years since my knees would let me run fast enough to have that same effect in my lungs, and I realized how much I’ve missed it.

Later that Sunday evening, after the ride, as I sat in church, proud of the lingering effects, I wondered if hard exertion has more than physical value. Is there spiritual value in hard work? I know Jesus said His yoke is easy and His burden is light, but He didn’t mean we’d have an easy go of it for all of life.

Paul wrote in Philippians 2:12 - “work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” (NAS)

“Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God.” (MSG)

“Work hard to show the results of your salvation, obeying God with deep reverence and fear.” (NLT)

“Work out (cultivate, carry out to the goal, and fully complete) your own salvation.” (AMP)

Clearly we aren’t supposed to sit down and become spiritual couch potatoes after receiving the free gift of grace. We are to take that free gift and start working.

Dallas Willard said in a Catalyst interview, “Grace is not opposed to effort, it’s opposed to earning.” We don’t earn our relationship with God through hard work, but hard work has great value just the same.

There is a true statement that we often repeat: “There is nothing we can do to make God love us more, and there is nothing we can do to make God love us less.”

Of course, it is absolutely correct. God loves us because He is God, God is love, and not because of our efforts. However, it is too tempting to use that statement as an excuse to sit down and do nothing, and that response ignores the real issue. God’s love for us is never in question, but our love for Him can be a shaky thing indeed. The purpose of spiritual disciplines (prayer, meditation, study, reading, worship, fasting, giving, silence, solitude, serving, etc.) is not to win God’s favor but to change our own hearts. As we work out our own salvation, like Apostle Paul says, we change our own heart and dreams and thoughts and desires, and we improve our own capability of loving God. Spiritual disciplines do not earn access to God, but open up our lives and make room for God.

Dallas Willard Said, “Think of it as training verses trying - trying harder seldom helps, but training makes you better.”

I must add this before drawing too many deep spiritual conclusions from a bike ride. I went out Tuesday afternoon to ride 17 miles and the wind was fierce. It was epically fierce. It was Patagonia fierce. There were moments when it was all I could to maintain 6 mph, legs spinning like crazy. I was so slow I would’ve fallen over if not for the gyroscopic effect of my legs going round and round and round. It was brutal.

Afterward, I didn’t feel any spiritual benefit from that ride at all. In fact, I felt more foolish than enlightened. Why didn’t I go to the gym and ride the stationary bike instead? I still have a lot to learn about training.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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 031711: A talking donkey

Monday afternoon I made a 25-mile bike ride, my furthest ride to-date in the modern era. For some reason, impossible to remember three days later, I thought about the story in the Bible of Balaam and his donkey. I wondered what would happen if an angel tried to block my way as I cruised alongside Highway 191. Would God cause my bike to stop and talk to me? A talking bicycle would be very strange - where is its mouth? However, maybe the flat tire I got four miles from home was a message from God. It certainly slowed me down.

The story of Balaam and his talking donkey comes from Numbers 22. It’s a story I’ve enjoyed even more since seeing the movie Shrek, now that I know how a talking donkey should behave. I used to picture Balaam’s donkey a little like Eeyore, sad and droopy, but now I hear Eddie Murphy’s voice. It significantly brightens the story.

As the story goes, Balaam was some sort of wizard-for-hire who would curse your enemy for a payment. Numbers 22:7 says when the elders of Moab and Midian went to recruit Balaam to put a curse on the Israelite people, they took with them “the fee for divination,” implying it was an understood and standard amount, a set fee.

Balaam may not have been a follower of God in the way we think of it in my church, even though he invoked God’s name. In this story he promised to bring his visitors “the answer the Lord gives me.” At least he didn’t claim to invent his curses all by himself.

We can’t know if Balaam really intended to talk to God about the curse or if his mention of the Lord was merely part of his magician script, but we know that in this particular case, God spoke to Balaam. It’s often a big surprise when he actually speaks to us – more than we expect. Yet, Balaam took it all in stride and accepted the words from God. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t his first time. Maybe God spoke to him all the time.

God told Balaam he must not curse the Israelites. So he was stuck between the obvious word of God and the desires of his employers from Moab and Midian. How could he obey God without alienating his rich and powerful future customer base? Balaam tried to tap dance between the two, making several appeals to God, hoping God would change his mind. Of course, He didn’t.

At one point Balaam was confronted by God while traveling down the road on his donkey. Actually, he was confronted by “the angel of the Lord,” and this is where the donkey enters the story.

The donkey saw the angel standing in the road, sword drawn, but Balaam couldn’t yet see it. Well, the donkey would not pass the angel, and even crushed Balaam’s leg against a stone wall rather than move forward. Balaam beat the donkey, but when the angel again blocked the path, the donkey laid down on the road. Balaam beat the donkey even more.

I remember once when we were at the family ranch, the Tramperos, in Union County New Mexico, I mentioned this story to Cyndi’s grandfather, Forrest Atchley. He started telling me stories about the stubborn donkeys of his life. All the stories ended the same way, with Forrest wailing away on a balking donkey with a 2x4 or a jack handle. I asked him, “Do you think any of those donkeys acted that way because they saw an angel in the road?”

He said, “If they saw any angels, it was after I hit them between the eyes with the jack handle.” Forrest was unwilling to credit any of his donkeys with the spiritual vision of Balaam’s donkey. Forrest did tell me he would consider the presence of angels in the road if one of his donkeys ever started talking to him, but only then.

The most surprising part of Balaam’s story in the Bible is when the donkey started talking. The donkey said, “What have I done to make you beat me three times in a row?”

Balaam answered, “You have made a fool of me.” The best part of the story is that Balaam was NOT surprised to have a talking donkey. He entered into a conversation with his donkey as if this was the sort of thing that happened every day. I would have expected him to jump back and holler, “WOAH, A TALKING DONKEY!”

And not just a run-of-the-mill talking donkey, this was a logical talking donkey. The donkey gave a well-reasoned explanation to Balaam about the situation. Then God opened Balaam’s eyes and he saw the angel of the Lord for the first time and he knew he was lucky to have survived this day.

I thought, Balaam should make it a point to keep this donkey beside him for the rest of his life. Any creature who can see messengers from God should be kept close, especially if it saves your life.

Anyway, that’s what I thought about while riding my bike last Monday. You never know what mind games the West Texas wind will stir up.

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

To learn about Berry’s books, “Running With God,” go to www.runningwithgodonline.com , or “Retreating With God,” go to www.retreatingwithgod.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