Journal entry 072911: Finish work

So I was enjoying two tasty enchiladas for lunch at Rosa’s with Cyndi, Tanya (sister), and Teena (aunt), when we talked about serving and finishing. The conversation eventually turned toward sewing since all three women pride themselves for their skills. Apparently, Cyndi’s mother also had a reputation for being an excellent seamstress, and she sewed most of the girl’s clothes as they were growing up, but she was also well-known for not completely finishing the last details - specifically, cutting the buttons holes and adding buttons.

“How did you wear your clothes without using buttons?” I asked.

Cyndi and Tanya answered immediately in unison, “Safety pins. We had lots of safety pins.”

The discussion reminded me of the experience a friend had when he bought a house south of Midland. He noticed the previous owner had done a lot of remodeling and made improvements on the house and property, but seldom completed all the finish work. As Gary described it, “Everything was 95 yards and no touchdown.”

I remembered a Bible verse that says, “Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means.” (2 Corinthians 8:11, NIV)

I recently read a great book about architecture and building construction titled “A Place of my Own,” by Michael Pollan, and he compared finishing with framing. When we hear someone say - all that’s left is the finish work - it sounds like the construction project is almost over. Of course, that is completely wrong. Visible progress slows, changes are subtle, none of it seems heroic, but finishing the final details takes a long time.

Pollan wrote, “Framing, by comparison, is epic work: the raising from the ground of a whole new structure in a matter of days.” However, while “High ritual might attend the raising of a ridge beam, who ever felt the need to bless a baseboard molding, or say a little prayer over the punch list?”

When our own house was under construction in 2008, I would drive over every evening to stand on the same spot and take a photo. My goal was to have a slide show, a flip book, of the entire process. Being a process guy myself, I found the day-to-day progress fascinating, whether large or small. However, once the outside work was completed and the finish work begun, it seemed that construction slowed to a crawl. It didn’t, of course. The guys were still diligently working on our house. It’s just that it got harder to document in photos since it all took place inside.

I wrote in the margin of A Place Of My Own, “In my construction photo essay, you can’t see the finish work taking place. It’s hidden. Like character building, spiritual formation. But it’s the finish work that transforms a cold structure in a warm and cozy home.” Finish work, according to Michael Pollan, is concerned with “the intimate, inescapable surfaces of everyday life.”

The curious thing about finish work, especially for a house, is that it’s never finished. Even after we closed on our house and moved in, we were still working … adding shelves to closets, reworking the pantry, tweaking the irrigation system, refinishing the floor, etc.

It’s true for all houses, not just ours. Finish work is never finished. Not because the construction wasn’t done correctly, but because the inhabitants change … they get older, they take on new hobbies, they see a good idea in someone else’s house and bring it home, they want to keep up with changing styles and fashions, they add to their numbers.

And what’s true about finish work in house construction is also true about spiritual formation in our lives. It is never finished. Because we are constantly changing, we are growing, the details of our lives change, the people close to us change, we get older, we take on new ministries, we see good work in someone else’s life and bring it home to our own. Our finish work is never done.

Well, as I’m writing this I can think of several home projects I haven’t finished yet: my phone charger set-up on my bathroom counter, installation of outdoor speakers, repair of our drop-down movie screen, replacement of our home sound system. I am sure there are at least a dozen more projects I haven’t finished and should put on the list but I’m already tired of this topic and ready to move on to something else. Finishing can be exhausting.

However, aren’t you glad our spiritual finish work isn’t totally up to us and our own ability to persevere? We have powerful and persistent help. The Bible says, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6, NIV)

PS: It occurred to me as I was finalizing this journal, that once you move into a house no one compliments the framing. They notice the finish work: baseboards, kitchen cabinets, bookshelves, wall textures and colors. It is the finish work that makes living in house a pleasant experience, and it is the personal finish work that makes a life worth knowing. In the long run, it is the finish work that matters most.

“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 or on Facebook … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org … To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org

Journal entry 072111: It’s hard to wait

Cyndi and I recently spent a week in the Carson National Forest of northern New Mexico, where I was blessed to have my feet on dirt trails above 8,000’ elevation, the sort of situation that causes an introvert like me to evaluate his life and faith and trust.

One morning, while running and listening to a podcast, I heard a familiar Bible story from the Old Testament about the government transition that occurred at the end of Samuel’s life. Samuel was the spiritual leader for all of Israel, spokesman for God, and last of the national judges. The text reads: “When Samuel grew old, he appointed his sons as Israel’s leaders. The name of his firstborn was Joel and the name of his second was Abijah, and they served at Beersheba. But his sons did not follow his ways. They turned aside after dishonest gain and accepted bribes and perverted justice.” (I Samuel 8:1-3)

I thought it ironic that Samuel’s sons followed the same path as Eli’s sons. Eli was Samuel’s predecessor and mentor, and Samuel got his job because Eli’s sons were so corrupt. You’d think Samuel would have learned something about wayward sons from watching Eli’s family, yet here Samuel is facing the same problem with his own sons.

Samuel should have known his sons were not up to the task before appointing them. I wonder why he did it. Was he blind to their corruption, or did he know about it yet appointed them anyway? Or maybe he had no one else and just didn’t know what else to do, so he appointed them and hoped for the best.

The story goes on: “So all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. They said to him, ‘You are old, and your sons do not follow your ways; now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.’” (8:4-5)

When the elders asked Samuel for a king, saying, “You are old and your sons are worthless,” their unspoken charge was that Samuel had failed. He hadn’t arranged for proper succession. He had let them down and now they had no future and it was all Samuel’s fault.

One wonders why the elders of Israel didn’t appeal to God first and ask Him, “What are You going to do with these dishonest sons of Samuel? What is next for us?” Instead, they asked for a king. God gave them free will to decide their course of action and they chose to be like all the other nations. It was peer pressure on a national scale.

Who knows but that they circumvented the will of God by asking for a king. Maybe God had a miracle planned for Samuel’s sons that would turn them around. Or maybe He had another yet-unknown leader picked out that He would call up as national priest, just like He did with Samuel to replace Eli’s sons. But because these elders pushed their own agenda through Samuel and asked for a king without even praying about it, they had to settle for less than God’s best.

So as I ran on that mountain trail in New Mexico, I wondered, how often does the voice in my head reflect what those elders told Samuel? How many times do I get impatient with God and push for my own agenda?

As in, “The people in charge aren’t doing a good job, I’m stuck with the goofy stuff they’re doing. They don’t deserve to be there and I’m just doing menial tasks that don’t matter. I’m tired of all that, and I want something else.” I am pretty sure I’ve prayed that exact prayer more than once in my career.

It would be easier to wait for God’s solutions if we knew for sure what He was going to do and when He would do it. But that wouldn’t be faith. Mark Batterson wrote, “Faith doesn’t reduce uncertainty. Faith embraces uncertainty. Faith has less to do with gaining knowledge and more to do with causing wonder.” (“In A Pit With A Lion On A Snowy Day”)

Jesus never promised security. What he promised was uncertainty. He didn’t give His disciples any details, just told them to “Follow Me.”

How many times have I pushed the wrong solution to a situation because I was in too big a hurry to wait for God to do it His way … and in His grace, He gave me my wish? Maybe His original path would have protected me from the unintended collateral consequences that always seem to accompany my choices.

When I am wallowing in self-pity like that, do I circumvent God’s best and miss his blessings?  I hope not. If I am willing to pray for God’s will, something I do frequently, I should also be patient for His will to unfold. It’s often hard to wait, but that is the essence of faith.

“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 or on Facebook … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org … To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org

Journal entry 071411: What it takes

The questions in the hearts of men are universal and consistent: Do I have what it takes? Can I pull this off? Will I be found out?

Guys will take on epic adventures to answer the question and prove they have what it takes to survive and prosper. But more often we stand against the wall and wait for the moment to pass, hoping to avoid doing something that will leave us looking foolish. We’d rather miss an adventure (or opportunity, or ministry, or relationship) than risk being found out.

Part of the problem is our cultural definition of what it means to be a real man. I found nearly 50 versions of the “50 Things A Real Man Should Be Able To Do” list, and they included things like:

Throw a punch

Chop down a tree

Jump-start a car

Change a flat tire

Build a campfire

Clean a paint brush

Point toward north

Avoid boredom

Tie a bowline knot

Change a diaper

Calculate square footage

… and on and on (a real man should know when to stop making lists!)

So I thought about that when reading a Bible account of a group of men who probably could have performed all 50 things on all 50 lists, and maybe even taught the classes. Reading from 1 Chronicles 5:24, it says: “These were the heads of their families: Epher, Ishi, Eliel, Azriel, Jeremiah, Hodaviah and Jahdiel. They were brave warriors, famous men, and heads of their families.”

These are prime qualities for an excellent resume - brave warriors, well-known and influential men of importance, leaders, responsible decision-makers. Yet the Bible goes on to say these manly men failed at the most important thing.

Verse 25 says: “But they were unfaithful to the God of their ancestors and prostituted themselves to the gods of the peoples of the land, whom God had destroyed before them.”

Because of their unfaithfulness God allowed an enemy nation (Assyria) to swoop in and defeat these men and carry them off as captives, spoils of war. Their families, friends, and neighbors all suffered because these men failed to be faithful to God. Even courage, fame, and influence weren’t enough. They were like the foolish man who built his house on the sand: they were swept away. In the final accounting, they did not have what it takes. They couldn’t pull off their single most important task.

So what should a real man (or woman) be able to do? What should be at the top of the list?

The Old Testament prophet, Isaiah, gave this insight to King Ahaz when he asked for advice: “If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.” (Isaiah 7:9) It is our faith that gives us strength, gives us depth, and density. A person who professes no faith has little to stand on when the troubles come.

I once heard Erwin McManus challenge an arena full of Promise Keepers by saying: “The shape of your character is the shape of your future.” Not skill, but character. Not influence, but faith.

I thought of another story from 2 Chronicles 20:12, when King Jehoshaphat ended a long prayer for guidance with this phrase, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”

He was a king who understood the limits of his own wisdom, courage, influence, and power, and knew to stand to firm in his faith.

And so, my prayer, “Lord - I am asking you again to speak to my heart about teaching and writing and books and engineering and oil & gas and cash flow and publishing and marketing and being Uncle Berry and loving Cyndi and taking guys into the mountains and all that. I don’t know what to do, but help me keep my eyes on You.

“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 or on Facebook … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org … To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org

Journal entry 070711: Foolish exposure

After my Tuesday morning run on the mountain trail, which made me very happy by the way, it was time to take a shower. The camp where we were staying had one shower facility to be used by everyone (well, one side was for men, the other for women), and since I wasn’t actually attending the workshops (like Cyndi was) I tried to use the facilities during class time so the official attendees would have better access. This time, though, I was looking forward to a new adventure.

The night before, during “silent time,” Cyndi had whispered to me, with roguish delight in her eyes: “I took an outdoor shower; I was butt naked, and there was a man in the shower next to me!” That seemed like the sort of thing I should know more about.

So I decided to investigate the shower arrangements more closely. Sure enough, there was the conventional indoor shower that I’d used the day before, and also an outdoor shower connected through a big glass door. It had a partition on the side toward the lodge shielding the view from conference attendees, and an eight-foot corrugated tin partition separating the men’s side from the women’s. It was impossible to see over or under or around the men-women divider, so I felt better about Cyndi’s earlier confession.

But the third side was open to the mountain and Aspen trees and the whole world. However, since it faced a ravine and a steep wall of tall trees, someone would have to go to a lot of trouble to spy on naked bathers - probably more trouble than an adult was willing to go to. (It would be a problem at a youth camp, though).

Still, while showering outside like that, even with the trees and the ravine, you are still naked and exposed and vulnerable in a way that seldom happens in the outside world. Even so, it was actually much more fun to use than the conventional shower; maybe because of the adventure, or maybe because of the rarity, but also because it felt free and wild. Cyndi and I both enjoyed it so much we continued to use it exclusively during the rest of our stay at the camp. I’ll admit it made me a little nervous to be so exposed in the bright mid-morning, but it was too refreshing to pass up.

 I told Cyndi, “It wasn’t being naked that made me nervous, but the fact I don’t look very good naked.” I looked and felt foolish, to tell the truth, and I expect almost everyone else in camp felt the same way about themselves.

And isn’t that the core fear and risk of being vulnerable: looking foolish? I, for one, have spent too much of my life trying to avoid looking foolish. I’ve avoided hard decisions and restrained my passions because I was afraid to look foolish. I was reading Mark Batterson while at the camp, and he was discussing the fear of looking foolish when he wrote, “Self-consciousness isn’t just a curse. It’s part of THE CURSE.” (In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day)

It’s my fear of foolishness that keeps me from entering more road races, keeps me from moving to the front of the leadership line, puts me on the back row in Cyndi’s class, convinces me to keep my wildest hairiest goals private, stops me from improvising on my trombone, frightens me about pushing my writing beyond the safe inner circle, delays my writing more books, keeps me from praying for audacious results like 1,000 books a week, and terrifies me on the dance floor.

Well, back at camp - I don’t know if I would’ve used the outdoor shower if Cyndi hadn’t told me about it. Probably not since I didn’t even know it existed. However, once Cyndi, in all her wild excitement, told me she used it (“It was just me and the Aspens until, swoosh, the men’s shower came on”), I knew I had to give it a try. I wanted to be at least as brave as she was. Cyndi gave me the courage to go outside and risk being foolish. And I loved it.

I know that taking an outdoor shower is not very far along the risk spectrum, it’s really pretty tame, and it certainly isn’t spiritually significant; but overcoming the fear of looking foolish can be very spiritual. How many of God’s blessings do we miss because we are afraid of looking like a fool?

Enough of that; it’s time to change.

So here is my challenge: Do one important “foolish” thing for God this week and see if the blessing isn’t greater than the embarrassment. And write to me about what you did and how it turned out. I don’t want to be the only one exposed to the Aspens.

“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 and on Facebook … Contact Berry directly: berry@stonefoot.org … To post a comment or subscribe to this free journal: www.journalentries.org

Journal entry 063011: Mountain trail story

Tuesday morning after breakfast I suited up and ran about three miles on the Icarus Trail. We were  staying at the Vallecitos Ranch in northern New Mexico. I was very happy to be back on dirt; that is, I was happy when I could breath. The lowest point on the trail was about 8,700’ elevation. There wasn’t enough oxygen for someone such as me.

It was very rough crossing the valley, like running across a plowed field; but the ground became smoother - or at least, more predictable - the higher I went. That is, except for the rocks and roots and twists and turns. It was wonderful. I had been looking forward to this for months.

It didn’t feel like I was running very fast, more of a shuffle, but even so I reached the top sooner than I anticipated. I ran up to a rock outcrop called Icarus Point, where Irishman Charles Wells carved a sculpture in 1981, designed so that a shaft of light will shoot through a small opening at sundown of summer solstice. I didn’t wait for sundown to see how well it worked. Besides, I’d missed the solstice by almost a week.

The path down the mountain back to the ranch joined a small portion of the Continental Divide Trail, and that made me even happier. I’ve dreamed of running the CDT and now I can claim I have … if only a very tiny bit.

However, it wasn’t the greatest or clearest of trails, and to be honest I expected the Continental Divide Trail to be a little more defined. If I’d gotten off the trail just a bit I doubt if I’d’ve found it again. It was easy enough to track while on it, but not obvious from either side once you strayed.

As I ran on the trail, as rough as it was, as easy as it would’ve been to trip and fall and get hurt and I’d have to use the rescue whistle the ranch hike-master made me carry and someone would have to come find me - all the embarrassing stuff - still, at least there was a clear trail to follow. It was great to know someone else had already come through here and picked the trail for me. Every time I saw a mark on a tree or one of the CDT badges I knew I was still going the right way. It’s always a relief to know I’m not lost. What a great place to be … not lost.

Having a trail to follow was a gift. I didn’t have to bushwhack. I still had to do the work, climb the hills, go down the ravines, avoid the rocks, and skip over the roots, but I had a path to follow.

Even more, every step I took left a mark on the trail and helped even a small bit to make it more defined for those following. Even though it didn’t seem like I was leaving much of a path myself, in fact, I was. When hiking on any trail we are depending on the trail blazers ahead of us and leaving tracks for the followers.

I couldn’t help but think about mentoring and how important having mentors is for living life as a strong follower of Christ. We should always have older and younger people around us, and I am speaking of spiritual age more than chronological age. We should always have someone to go to, and someone to give to. We should have someone blazing our trail, and someone following our own tracks.

I can’t write about mountain trails without mentioning one of my favorite trail markings: a stack of rocks known as a cairn. I can hardly pass by one without adding a rock of my own. Seeing a rock cairn reminds me that I’m not lost.

A rock cairn is proof positive that we are not alone. Someone has been there before us. And adding rocks to the cairn as we pass tells those behind us that they are not alone, either.

Let’s live our lives as if on the trail, reading the markings left by those strong in the faith, leaving cairns for those following.

“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 062311: Willing to change

I rolled over a birthday this week. I turned 55: the hump year of the hump decade of a life. However, We don’t invest much energy or attention into birthdays in our family, and when we do it’s for epic birthdays ending in zero. So we’ll party big in five more years.

On the page for June 23 in my Daily Bible I’ve written where I happen to be sitting each year when reading on my birthday. Most of the entries are from someplace in Midland, but one says “Oak Hills Church in San Antonio” and another says, “Dongying, China.” The most frequent entry is “Whataburger.” I am a predictable guy, I’ll admit. In fact, predictability makes me happy.

But I’ve been thinking a lot about change lately, being changed as a person, especially in my exploration of Ephesians 3:17 and what it means to be at home. Specifically, I’ve wondered about how our homes change us. One thing that’s surprised me about getting older is that I am more open to change now than I was when I was younger. I expected the opposite. I thought I’d get to be more set in my ways.

I’ve been reading A Place of My Own by Michael Pollan, and he included a famous quote from Winston Churchill: “First we shape our buildings, and thereafter they shape us.”

Having lived in a house we designed for 2-1/2 years now, we are the truth of Churchill’s statement. Cyndi and I spent five months working on the house plans - moving doorways, squeezing guest bedrooms, sizing bookshelves, locating light switches, eliminating excessive hallways, and on and on. We wanted a house shaped just for us so we could live the way we prefer. We might still be working on the plans even today had our patient builder Gary Kahler not gently suggested that we finish up since new building codes were going into effect and that always pushed the cost up. We completed our work that week.

But as much time as we spent shaping our living spaces, our lives have been shaped even more by the resulting house. Our patterns of movement, our private spaces, where we lay our sunglasses and keys, our dump-counter where we unload our arms of stuff after coming in from the garage. The floor plan has had an impact on me in ways I didn’t expect: my work habits, my routines, and my structure. The open spaces I helped to shape have shaped me into a more social person. In addition, we’ve lived with double the occupancy we anticipated, so that has instigated more changes.

Having said that, there are very few things about our house we would change if we had it to do over. Cyndi would put more pocket doors and fewer conventional swinging doors. We’d probably rework our drop-off area near the garage to make it more accessible, and we might reconfigure our bathroom for more light and to make room for Cyndi to sit at her counter. I would move a door or window just enough to eliminate the line-of-sight from our shower … if all the doors are open, which they often are, it is a clear visual shot from shower door through the bedroom, through the library, across the veranda, and into the kitchen. One morning I stepped out of the shower and realized I was looking at our friend and neighbor, Patti, who was standing in the kitchen visiting with Cyndi and Tanya. Oops; didn’t expect that.

Mr. Churchill’s statement is true about a lot more things than living spaces. It is also true about close relationships. Most of us began our closest relationship - marriage - by carefully selecting our intended partner and moving through the vetting process (dating), and after committing to the relationship we created, much like drawing up house plans, we learned that the process had only begun. From that point forward we are shaped and modified and changed by the relationship that we thought was just what we wanted.

That is, we are changed if we allow it; if we don’t stubbornly refuse.

It’s hip among motivational speaker types to say we should live our lives as thermostats rather than as thermometers. In other words, we should be the ones who initiate change rather than the ones who merely respond to change. I believe, in most cases, that is correct. It’s the reason I decided to publish my own books rather than continue to beg publishers to pick them from the lineup. I spent too many years standing against the literary wall frantically waving my hand back and forth while jumping up and down and hollering, “Pick me, pick me!” I decided to be a thermostat and initiate change. I picked myself.

But always being the initiator can’t be the whole story of life. Growing up means sometimes choosing to be the thermometer. Sometimes we allow ourselves to be changed … by places, by people, by God. We intentionally put ourselves under someone’s teaching or visit a holy place or dive into God’s Word hoping to be changed by the encounter.

To become our best we have to be willing to be changed by our environment, by our relationships. We have to be willing to be changed by God.

And so, we can consider change as as indicator. If we are the same person today we were five years ago, if we haven’t changed at all, we aren’t growing.

May we live our lives in strength ready to change the world around us, and may we be humble enough to let ourselves be changed.

“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 061611: Being together

So I watched the Dallas Mavericks win their first NBA title Sunday night, and it was fun to be rooting for the home team. I’ll confess Dallas is not my hometown, but we travel there often, and it’s in my home state of Texas, so I think that counts. And besides that, we were in Dallas just last weekend; it was great to see so many people wearing their blue Mavericks T-Shirts.

But I’ll admit I don’t qualify as a real fan. That’s why I didn’t buy a shirt when in Dallas. The only basketball I watched all year was the playoffs and I only watched then because one of our teams was in them. A part of me wished I were more of a sports fan, but I just don’t have the patience to sit through entire games night after night. Last summer I watched the baseball playoffs; again, it was because another hometown team, the Texas Rangers, was in the World Series. I didn’t watch a single baseball game during the regular season, or basketball game, either. I wonder if I should do better.

Part of the fun of jumping in and rooting for the home team is the chance to be one of us. I spend so much of my life inside my own head doing my own stuff all by myself, it’s fun to be one of us sometimes.

It’s one reason I try to run around White Rock Lake whenever in Dallas … even in the horrible June mid-afternoon heat. It’s a premier urban trail and a beautiful setting, and that’s reason enough to drive across town to run, but the deeper reason I squeeze it into my schedule is to hang out with everyone else. I’ve never run there when I didn’t see dozens of other runners and cyclists. And even though 99% of them are faster and leaner and more beautiful than me, and even though I’ll never meet any of them, and even though we never exchange more than a head nod when we pass by each other, I like being on the same trail. I like being where they are. I like being one of us.

Another example: Last Sunday our church held a combined morning worship service under a huge tent erected in the parking lot. Instead of splitting up for our regular three morning services we met together as one group under the tent. We called it Victory Sunday and it was part of the kick-off and ground-breaking for a significant construction project.

We celebrated Communion during the service, something we do not do every Sunday, which means I was on serving duty as a deacon. At least we didn’t have to wear our traditionally mandatory uniforms of coat-and-tie this time, a bow to the 90 F June heat. But we all sat together on the front row; actually, squozed together would be a better description than to say we were sitting. We were perched on tiny plastic chairs that were spaced for a young Brownie troop rather than a team of grown men. We got a lot of comments as the entire congregation passed in front of us to put pledge cards in the buckets - we must have looked funny sitting so close.

But the highlight of the morning for me was being one of us. As I watched the families file past and realized how many I knew personally, how many I had served with on committees, how many I had attended Sunday School class with, how many I had been influenced by and changed by and strengthened by, I was happy. And as I thought about the fine groups of men I was part of on the front row I forgot how crowded and uncomfortable we were and thought only about how fortunate I am to know them all.

I guess that’s what church means to me - being one of us. As individual members we’re are not alike at all - our stories are different, our families are different, our methods of experiencing God are different, our futures are different, our spiritual expectations are different, our rules of behavior are different, and on and on. But because we share the love of Christ, and we share the love of each other and the joy of serving together, we have more in common than we have different.

I should add that being one of us requires participation. You aren’t a real fan unless you watch lots of games and you aren’t a runner unless you run lots of miles. You have to participate. That’s why the author of Hebrews reminded us: “Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:24-25, NLT)

“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 060911: Asking for help

I’ll go ahead and say this right up front: I don’t understand prayer as much as I should. For me it is the hardest of the spiritual disciplines, spiritual conversations, to wrap my thoughts around. While I understand the importance of prayer and the value of prayer, not to mention the obedience of prayer, and in fact I enjoy prayer, especially when I’m alone and moving down the trail in relaxed conversation, it’s hard for me to know what to pray for.

Should I pray for great success in my projects, or should I pray for peace regardless of the outcome? Should I pray for book sales so huge everyone will know it had to come from God, or should I be satisfied and thankful for the loyal circle of friends and readers that God has pulled in around me? How do I honor the talents and desires God has given me without allowing ambition to take over my life? Which one is the path of faith? Which is the path of hope, or contentment, or gratitude, or belief? Which is the path of trust?

So maybe these questions are my feeble attempt at a mid-life crisis … as in, I want success to be more obvious now that I’ve lived more than half my life. Regardless, those are the questions that haunted me this week as I ran and as I biked. Don’t worry, I’m not wigging out over this, but I want to do the right thing. I want to get it right.

Last Friday I read from my Daily Bible about one of the kings of Judah, named Asa. He was an unusual king in that he “did what was good and right in the eyes of the Lord his God.” (1 Kings 15:11)

While he was king the nation was attacked by Cushites, a vast army with 300 chariots, a very serious threat. Asa called to the Lord his God to ask for help, saying, “Lord, there is no one like you to help the powerless against the mighty.” God answered his prayer and intervened in the battle, and Judah won a great, miraculous victory.

However, many years later, after a lifetime of leading the nation as a godly king, Asa responded to a lesser military threat from Israel by purchasing help from Syria. It was a strategic and spiritual mistake, and a holy man named Hanani challenged Asa for relying “on the king of Syria and not on the Lord your God.”

It’s a lesson about lowering your guard even after a long lifetime of following God. It’s a reminder not to depend on your own judgment, and not to trick yourself into believing your own superior problem solving skills were the reason for your long list of victories. Maybe Asa had been rescued by God so many times he took it for granted, convincing himself it was due to his brilliant leadership all along. Hanani told Asa something very powerful, and this is what caught my attention: “For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to Him.” (2 Chronicles 16:9)

Hanani’s point: God was anxiously looking for an opportunity to bless Asa again. Obtaining help from God wasn’t tricky or hard - God wanted to help. He was looking for a chance, a clear shot. Asa just didn’t ask.

I occurred to me that maybe this was the answer to my questions about whether I should pray for success with my books or leave it alone and see what God does. I don’t want to be like Asa, depending on my own smarts. I don’t want to give up trying because it’s too much trouble to ask God for help. Maybe He’s still roaming the earth looking for someone to bless. I want to be on His list.

“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 060211: Hiding place

On my most recent trip to the Barnes and Nobles on Mockingbird in Dallas I discovered a book by Michael Pollan titled, “A Place of My Own: The Architecture of Daydreams.” It is an account of Pollan’s quest to build a room of his own - a small, wooden hut in the forest, a “shelter for daydreams,” a place to write and read. I’ve only read the first 50 pages, and already I love his exploration of home and safety and accomplishment.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot on the topic of home. As in: Where is home? When do you feel at home? What distinguishes home from other comfortable places? How does a new and strange place become home? The questions come from my reading of Ephesians 3:17, “I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your heart …” This notion that Christ can not only dwell in me, be in charge of me, lead me and guide me, but actually be at home in my heart, is intriguing.

For me it’s one of those epic questions worth spending a lot of thought on. If I can understand what home means, maybe I can do a better job making my heart into a comfortable home for Christ.

I’ll admit that part of my attraction to this notion of home is personality driven.  I’m the sort of person who needs private space and private time in order to remain mentally stable and productive. I need private sanctuaries where I can be by myself, surrounded by my own small pile of stuff that has no one’s fingerprints save my own. For me there is a connection between privacy and respect; if my privacy is invaded it feels like a loss of respect.

Having said all that, I don’t need or want to be private all the time. Just some of the time. I’m not a recluse nor a hermit. And the more secure my private space and time, the more generous I can be with everything else. But when robbed of my privacy, not only will I get short-tempered and tense, but you won’t get the best I have to offer. I’m not creative if my privacy bank is in deficit.

So back to Barnes and Nobles. After glancing on page six of Pollan’s book where he wrote about his search for “a space where I enjoyed a certain sovereignty,” I clutched it to my heart, and trotted all the way to the cash register. The statement felt true the moment I read it. In order for a place to feel like home, I need a certain level of sovereignty. In my own house, which I love, my sovereignty over space is not consistent. It’s weakest in the north end and grows stronger as I move southeast toward my closet, which Cyndi calls my man cave.

Pollan wrote about a tree house he had when he was a young boy, and the best part about it was the entrance - a small trapdoor in the floor that was too small for adults to fit through and accessible only with a flimsy rope ladder. Difficulty of access guaranteed privacy. Cool.

Reading about his tree house stirred a memory from my life in the 1960s in Kermit, Texas. We lived in the south part of town on Shannon Drive, and the endless mesquite pasture with all its mystery was only a couple of blocks away. The pastures weren’t as cool as deep woods would’ve been had we lived in northern New Mexico, but it was the wilderness that was accessible to me, and I couldn’t get enough. I spent countless hours exploring my patch of the wild, sometimes with buddies, but more often alone. Even then I was captivated by the combination of solitude and dirt.

We often built forts out in the pasture using found wood and abandoned car parts. Illegal dumping may be a plague on civilized society, but it is prime harvest for young fort builders. Our best and last fort was a lean-to built behind a huge mesquite, and it rested against a chain-link fence. If we had been the sort of boys who drank beer or snuck cigarettes or, dare I say it, smoked dope, this is where we would’ve done it. The real value of the fort was having a private place of our own. I spent a lot of time alone in that fort, feeling safe and sovereign, until one day it occurred to me that anyone and everyone in the Schlumberger yard on the other side of the chain-link fence could see right inside. It wasn’t as private as I’d hoped.

Well, after writing about our fort in my journal, I spent the rest of the day singing Steven Curtis Chapman, “You’re my hiding place, I’m safe in Your embrace, I’m protected from the storm that rages.” I also couldn’t shake off Psalm 32:7, “You are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”

The curious thing is that I don’t remember thinking of my forts as hiding places. I grew up in a strong stable family without abuse or alcohol or drugs, the things most kids escape from. My parents loved me and still love me, loved each other and still love each other. I don’t remember a life of trouble that begged escaping. It wasn’t just solitude I was after, either. I was an only child during those years and spent most of my time by myself. No, it must have been something else.

So why did this verse and this song ring through my mind all day after I wrote about forts? Maybe there is more to this story than I have remembered so far? I’m hoping to learn more as I read the rest of Pollan’s book.

How about you? Did you have hideaway forts when you were young? Do you have one now?

“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 052311: Better together

When it comes to working out, I have consistently avoided group classes. The way I saw it, if you went to a class, you had to go on someone else’s schedule, at someone else’s location, do someone else’s workout, follow someone else’s rules, and listen to someone else tell you what to do and when to do it. One of my longstanding life goals has been to avoid letting someone else tell me what to do or when to do it.

But a few years ago I started going to a group weight training class at Gold’s Gym (Body Pump). I first heard of it from friend Jim Sales. When Cyndi decided she wanted to go, I wanted to go with her. Much to my surprise, not only did I enjoy the class, I got a lot stronger. In fact, I’m stronger today than I’ve ever been my entire life.

What I learned was that joining a group made the workout better. I worked harder and longer than I would’ve worked by myself. I lifted heavier weights. I couldn’t stop when I got tired, since there were girls in the room. I never had to think about what to do next, I just followed the instructor. I saw real results, and I kept going back. I was surprised to learn that I needed a group to do my best. I never suspected that.

And that brings me to what happened last weekend - which we spent along the Mansfield-Dallas-Plano axis. Cyndi had a workshop and I did my favorite thing - hang out by myself. I tried running at White Rock Lake Friday afternoon but I got rained out. But for me the highlight of the weekend - that is, besides playing with granddaughter Madden - was a Chi Running class we took late Saturday afternoon.

As the arthritis in my knees has progressed (I doubt that’s the correct word; it doesn’t feel like progress) I’ve realized my best strategies are to lose weight down to the 170-175 lbs. range (so far I have been dismal at getting that done, however) and Chi Running. It’s a running technique created by ultramarathoner Danny Dreyer to “heal and prevent injuries, to run faster, farther, and with much less effort, at any age.” It is rooted in a principle and philosophy similar to Tai Chi. I learned about it from reading Dreyer’s book in October 2006.

I’ll admit a bit of discomfort with the Chi part of it. I read the parts of the book that talked about the energy in our body that ties everything together, and while I am happy to admit we don’t know as much about human body as we think, and what we do know is just an approximation of reality, and while spending miles on the trails has convinced me there is more to the mind-body-spirit connection than I was taught in my conservative evangelical upbringing, I’m not buying into the Chi theory. It’s a little too spooky for me. But regardless of the philosophy, the resulting running technique should keep Cyndi and me running longer with fewer injuries.

Like all technique-centric activities, you need personal coaching to get it right. You can read the books and listen to the podcasts and watch the DVDs and learn the terminology, but you can’t know if you are doing the technique correctly without someone else observing, and it works best when the outside observer is a trained instructor who knows the clues and can teach the subtle differences.

Some sports, like golf, or tennis, or baseball come with the expectation that the participant needs expert coaching to get really good. But since we’ve all known how to run since we were children, running isn’t usually considered to be on that list. However, even something as simple as running can be improved, and with people like us, over 50 years old who intend to run for decades longer, incremental improvements can have lasting benefits.

So I researched the internet for instructors in the Dallas area and wrote to two of them. David Saltmarsh was the first to respond, so I set up a session with him for Saturday morning. But then Cyndi told me she wanted to go as well, so I moved our session to Saturday evening.

I’ll admit that, at first, I wasn’t happy that I had to share. Typically, if we both go to something like this, Cyndi gets 75% of the instruction and the instructor’s attention. But this time I was wrong. The session was great and David was specific and patient and gave both of us lots of individual attention. And of course, we learned more by being there together (a group).

David told me to work on my posture, straighten my right foot, peel my feet from the ground instead of lifting my knees, and relax my ankles. I don’t remember what he told Cyndi to do, but I’m sure it was a lot, knowing how sloppy she runs. (I do remember that my arm swing was perfect and Cyndi’s was deficient. There’s that.)

It was a good session, and while I don’t do Chi Running very well, yet, I can do enough to know it will help me - I’ve seen the future.

But my lessons learned these past few years are bigger than running or weight training. Coaching and groups have been a big part of my growth as a Christian man. I’ve heard speakers say that the fruits of the spirit - love, joy, peace patience, etc. - should grow out of us naturally as we allow the Holy Spirit access to our lives, and that we shouldn’t have to work at it, but in practice I’ve never met anyone who grew in spiritual maturity that didn’t take deliberate and intentional action, usually in the form of spiritual disciplines and coaching (or, as we call it, discipling or mentoring). Every strong believer I know has become strong by learning from others.

Throughout my life I’ve been blessed with a series of leaders and teachers who’ve taught me how to live as a Christian man. And even today, I am being taught by a community of men around me.

I’ve learned that you cannot do this alone. You cannot find healing alone. You cannot find peace alone because God did not create you to do it alone. You cannot live a significant life without others – no matter how intelligent you are, how gifted you are, how creative you are, or how many books you read. Your fate is not the result of your faith alone, for no one stands alone. Without the involvement of others in your future, you have no future.

Once we decide to invest our lives into each other – not for personal gain – but to help us live out our own dreams – we’ll both be changed forever. And who knows, maybe someday I’ll be good enough to give Chi Running lessons to you!

“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