Reconnecting to the supernatural

Do you have sacred places, thinplaces, where God once spoke to you? Do you ever go back to reconnect?

One day last week I listened to a Mosaic podcast by Hank Fortner, and he reminded me of one of my favorite Bible stories - about the time when God stopped the Jordan River so the people could walk across.

Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest. Yet as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. (Joshua 3:15-16, NIV)

Those priests were brave men, walking into a flooded river while carrying the heavy ark. God didn’t stop the water until they took the initial risk of stepping in. And if that wasn’t enough, they stayed in the middle of the river to show the way.

The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord stopped in the middle of the Jordan and stood on dry ground, while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing. (Joshua 3:17, NIV)

I’ve read that story, even taught that story, many times through the years, but this time I couldn’t help but imagine one of those priests sneaking back down to the same spot on the riverbank, years later, after the conquest was over, and putting his feet in the water to see if it would stop again.

Maybe he was a little sad that it didn’t work a second time, but even happier to know it was God who did the stopping and not his own magic feet. Wouldn’t you rather have God than magic feet?

I imagine that priest returning often to put his feet in the water, to feel the coolness, to remember the time when the river stopped, to relive the moment of God’s power and authority and grace, allowing the water to draw him closer to God once again. Spoiled to the supernatural, he wanted more.

There’s more to the story: the twelve stones.

 So the Israelites did as Joshua commanded them. They took twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, according to the number of the tribes of the Israelites, as the Lord had told Joshua; and they carried them over with them to their camp, where they put them down. Joshua set up the twelve stones that had been in the middle of the Jordan at the spot where the priests who carried the ark of the covenant had stood. And they are there to this day…. Joshua said to the Israelites, “In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ (Joshua 4:8 - 22, NIV)

And so, I imagine my priest starring at that pile of rocks, a permanent reminder of God’s power. Maybe, when his life was especially hard, he put his hands on them just to remind himself of God’s goodness. Maybe he even sat on the ground with his back leaning against the pile, letting the heat in the rocks soak into his exhausted body, like the grace of God soaking onto his heart.

I don’t think I’m off base here. In his phenomenal book, Wild Goose Chase, Mark Batterson asked: I wonder if Peter ever rowed out to that spot where he walked on water? Did Zacchaeus ever take his grandchildren back to climb the sycamore tree? Did Lazarus ever revisit the tomb where he spent four days? Did Paul ever ride out to the mile marker on the Damascus Road?

Every once in a while we need to go back to the sacred places and celebrate what God has done. Reconnect to the supernatural. I’ve done that a few times in my life. I think of it as anchoring a memory.

One day in 1999 when I was driving back to Midland from a drilling rig visit, I stopped in Brownfield and changed clothes in a fast food restaurant parking lot (in the privacy of my car, that is) to run down Highway 137, one of my first “adult” routes. It was in September 1980, while running down that very road, the immense responsibility of being a brand new father washed over me all at once. At the turnaround, I made a commitment to step into the role, and I was a different man running back home. I returned to Highway 137 nineteen years later because I wanted to smell the air and remember the texture of a road that played an important part in my new life as a husband and father.

Another story: One morning in May 2008, at a Wild at Heart Advanced Camp at Crooked Creek Ranch, Colorado, I returned to a concrete picnic table where God spoke to me in the deepest emotional experience of my life. I wanted my friend Eric to take a photo so I wouldn’t forget, or diminish, what happened there. I still look at that photo often, to remind myself that I didn’t fanaticize the whole story.

How about you? Have you returned to a sacred place where God once spoke? Have you leaned against the rocks to feel the heat of God’s grace?

“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

So much junk

I’ll go ahead and say this right upfront: Email makes my life better, richer, and more efficient. It made my dream of being a widely read writer a reality when I first started publishing weekly journals back in 1998. But as with all good things, email can also become a disaster in the wrong hands.

My story begins Monday last week when I checked email on my phone. Something was amiss. All I saw was a long string of messages saying, “Mail Delivery Failed.” I had fifty seemingly identical messages. All day Monday, every time I checked it downloaded a new set of fifty emails. Message after message, saying, “Mail Delivery Failed.”

It’s true, I’d sent out a group email the night before, and I often get one or two messages like that because I type the address wrong or someone changes addresses or whatever, but this was something else. For one thing, I’ve never sent a group email large enough to get this many returns. And another thing: when I looked closely at some of the returns they had addresses I had never heard of. I was under attack.

I also knew it was different from those email viruses going around that send junk to everyone on your contact list. None of these returns were from anyone I ever knew. I was getting returns in Japanese and German and Thai and Arabic. Not my contact list.

When I got home, I went to my laptop, tagged the returns as junk mail, and deleted the rest of them in my inbox. Then I went riding, to burn off some of the frustration.

From that point forward, Outlook did a great job grabbing the incoming returns and stuffing them into junk. By the time I went to bed Monday night, I had 7,340 messages in my junk folder. It seemed like a lot. I deleted them all hoping my problems were over.

They weren’t.

For the next couple of days I got page after page after page of the same “Mail Delivery Failed” messages. They were all unique, with different bounced email addresses. Outlook sent them all to my junk folder, but my server cache, wherever that is, filled up so that friends could no longer send legitimate emails to me since my inbox was too full.

By Friday morning, the return message rate had decreased to the point I was once again receiving legitimate messages from friends. Even my own predictable junk mail from catalogues and political candidates found a way through. I had stopped deleting the emails in my junk folder because I wanted to know how many I would receive. Why fight through an adventure if you can’t quantify the damage, is what I always say.

So here is my diagnosis: Some scammer, who knows who, who knows where, found my email address and password and used it to send his spam so that it appeared to originate with me. When the messages were rejected, either by a canny server or because the address was stale, they bounced back to me.

My friend and computer go-to guy, Frank, said it would probably be over in a few days after the spammer moved on to someone else’s fresh address.

In the meantime, I had been tagged as a spammer. I was receiving worldwide rejection from people (or, computers) I would never meet. I only hoped Homeland Security didn’t get one and put me on their comprehensive suspicious-character-don’t-let-him-do-anything-especially-fly-on-an-airline list. I also hoped al-Qaeda didn’t get one, or SPECTRE. Blofeld holds long grudges.

Well, it’s now over. I didn’t have to change my email address because of this attack, which made me happy because I like my address. There are only three people using Stonefoot since we created it ourselves using the name from one of the giants in The Last Battle from The Chronicles of Narnia. I would hate to give that up without a fight. Other than temporarily cluttering my hard drive there was no damage done.

By Friday evening, all I was receiving was typical standard junk. No new “Mail Delivery Failed” messages. The final count in my Outlook junk folder was 44,266 emails. Seems like a lot. It was a reminder there are many things that make my life better that I cannot control.

Sometimes life throws so much junk at you, you might as well stop fighting it. Just wait until it tapers off, delete the records, and start fresh.

QUESTION: What junk are you dealing with this week? What is filling your inbox?

“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

Is that enough?

I was considering Sunday’s discussion about a man in the Bible namedStephen. You can find his story in Acts 6-8.

Stephen’s story took place around A.D. 34-35, shortly after Jesus' crucifixion. He was a powerful speaker, and go into trouble with the Jewish authorities because he preached Jesus. He was also exceptionally brave, maybe audacious.

When he was summoned before the Sanhedrin, the highest Jewish court in the land, they asked him if the charges against him were true. Stephen didn’t even acknowledge their question, but launched on a 50-verse history lesson, reciting the long list of Jewish rejection of God in front of the very men who knew this material best.

It would be like lecturing your physics professor about Isaac Newton, or an Olympic athlete about training, or a Supreme Court Justice about the Bill of Rights. How long could you go before they shut you down? “Young man, don’t you dare lecture us on history.”

I don’t know why the proud men of the Sanhedrin let Stephen keep going, except for this: “All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.” (Acts 6:15, NIV)

There was obviously something strange and powerful about Stephen, both in his appearance and in the way he spoke. People were drawn to him, and sensed an internal strength and power. Even his enemies recognized his spiritual depth. Maybe that’s what kept the Sanhedrin quiet during Stephen’s sermon.

However, Stephen isn’t famous for his sermon, but because he was stoned to death after preaching it. He was the first martyr recorded in the New Testament. And the narrative implies one of the ringleaders of Stephen’s death was a man named Saul. He later became a believer, and his name became Paul.

My real interest in Stephen is this: Was it Stephen’s purpose in life to make one grand sermon and then die violently in front of Saul?

And the follow-up question: Was that enough?

I write and talk a lot about calling and purpose, and about living intentionally, but I usually think of that as a life-long adventure. I never consider it to a one-time flash.

I realize that Stephen did more in his short life than preach this one sermon. The Bible tells us this about him: “Now Stephen, a man full of God’s grace and power, performed great wonders and signs among the people.” (Acts 6:8, NIV)

So it isn’t fair to think his speech before the Sanhedrin was his only shot at life’s purpose.

Still, the question remains: Was dying in front of Saul worth it? Was it enough to score a life well lived?

You could argue, yes, it was enough, knowing that Saul would become Paul, write most of the New Testament, and personally spread the gospel and plant churches all around the Mediterranean. But at the time of Stephen’s death, he wasn’t Paul. And he was just beginning as Saul, the great persecutor. He didn’t become Paul until after Stephen died, so Stephen never saw the true impact of his death.

How about you? What if your grand purpose in life was to make an impact on one other person? Would that be enough?

We seldom know the true effect of our life. We may get glimpses, an occasional Thank You, maybe even a story or two. But I believe we never see most of the effect of our life beyond bits and pieces.

Is that enough? Can you give your life away with such little feedback?

The answer: Yes, it is enough. We are responsible for the depth of our ministry; God is responsible for the width. We are responsible to bravely live our calling in front of people, giving our lives away; God is responsible for the results.

Living for God with little feedback, fulfilling our purpose anyway, is the heart of faith. Faith that, if God gave it to us and prepared us for it, God will also protect it and make it have long-lasting impact.

Stephen’s life and death mattered more than he could have known. We still study him, 2,000 years later.

And so, your life matters more than you will ever know. Live it out, boldly, audaciously, in faith.

QUESTION: Are you giving yourself away? Is it enough?

“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

A changed image

What does it take to change theimage you have of yourself? Would you even want to?

My self-image as a cyclist changed significantly after my foot surgery last spring. I hobbled around on crutches for seven weeks; when that was over, I was ready to move. Dr. Glass wouldn’t let me run on my new foot yet, but he did approve cycling. I was so happy to be doing something, anything, moving, I rode 16 miles every day. Not only was I regaining fitness, I could feel my pace quickening and my comfort on my bike improving. I felt like a real cyclist for the first time since I started riding again.

Then, for some reason, I had an inspiration to ride 56 miles on my 56^th birthday, which was June 23rd.

Actually, I’ve had a long-standing dream to run my birthday, but there was no way I could run 56 miles, foot surgery or not. And even if I could, running that far in Texas in the June heat would be crazy. I’d have to do it all at night, and where would I go? At the track - 224 laps?

But biking 56 miles seemed doable. Just a small stretch.

The previous summer I rode 50 miles with Todd, Kara, and David, my first big ride after buying my Specialized. But I didn’t follow it up with any more long rides. Since then, my furthest rides had all been in the 25-mile range.

So riding 56 miles was a significant increase (124%), but once the idea rooted in my consciousness, I couldn’t shake it off. What was the worst thing that could happen? My legs could crater and I’d have to sit down beside the road and wait for a ride home. But I would have my phone to call for help and my iPod for entertainment, so the risk seemed minimal.

Friday morning, birthday-eve, I rode out-and-back on 191, with one excursion up to Greentree, and another on Billy Hext. I had to stop and fix one flat at Cornerstone Church, and I took a well-deserved break at the Stripes Convenient Store. By the time I got home, I had actually ridden 58 miles. Happy birthday to me.

My average speed for the day was 13.13 mph. Not fast, but not terrible, either.

The thing is, that ride changed me. I realized the limits I’d set for myself were way too short. I was capable of much more. I saw myself in an entirely different category. I had changed my image.

Still full of myself, and confident in my superhuman strength, I rode 45 miles the next Friday, this time averaging 14.6 mph. I know the average speed thing is not an exact measure of effort or fitness since it depends on wind and temperature, but it is the only real indicator I can measure and compare.

Again, the ride felt good, and I wasn’t especially sore or tired when I got home. I learned I could work very hard for three hours straight, pushing my legs, lungs, and heart, and still feel good the rest of the day.

Since then, through the summer, I rode another five or six rides in the fifty-mile range, some with friends (Cory, and Todd), but mostly by myself. And my average speeds have crept above 15 mph, which used to be my major goal for much shorter rides. I am looking forward to more giant leaps forward in the months/years to come. If I can ride 50, I can ride 100. If I can ride 100, I can ride around the world.

So what’s the point in writing about all this?

Because we all get stuck in our present selves, afraid to move forward, afraid to take risks, afraid to change. It happens to me all the time. I only wrote about cycling because that was an easy change. I’m afraid to write about things that are hard. Things like changing my image as a husband, a parent, a teacher, a follower of Jesus.

How about you? What image do you need to change? Maybe all it would take is a 124% step up. It’s risky. You might fail. But failing isn’t so bad … just keep your phone nearby so you can call for help

QUESTION: Which image do you need to change? How can you make a big step forward?

“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

What is the reason?

I have been reading a book (I know,big surprise), a father-son memoir by Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez titled, Along the Way.

I picked it up because of their movie, The Way, the story of a father walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain to connect with his deceased son. They wrote the book a couple of years after making the movie, and I read it because I wanted to go deeper

This sort of thing happens to me a lot. I’ll see a movie, hear an interview, or listen to a podcast, and then go hunting for more information. I don’t think it’s more detail or more history that I want, just more insight and understanding. If something causes my heart to vibrate or my brain to ruminate, I naturally want to go deeper. Who doesn’t?

So, back to the movie. After their visit to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the traditional end of the Camino, the story follows our pilgrims into an office next door. They are entitled to receive a diploma certifying they have completed the 500-mile hike, joining other pilgrims who’ve been making this journey for more than 1,000 years. One of the requirements is to answer a question for the official record: “What is your reason for walking the Camino?”

This, by the way, is not the same as asking, “What is your quest?” That’s a destination question. “What is your reason?” is a motivation question.

In the movie, Tom, played by Martin Sheen, stammered a bit before saying something like, “I needed to travel more.” He was a bit embarrassed that his answer was so trivial and that he couldn’t articulate his real reasons. Sheen later wrote that he was personally confronted with the same question once he got back home to Malibu, after the movie was finished. “What is your reason …?”

I think it was the most important question of the entire memoir. Maybe THE QUESTION of all memoirs. Of all writing.

Well, as it turns out, I cannot read a memoir without putting myself into every story. Maybe that’s too self-serving to think about myself while reading someone else’s book, but isn’t that the point of all memoir writing? An author tells his personal stories hoping the reader will connect with their own stories, and so author and reader learn together?

That’s certainly why I write.

When I read the question in Along the Way, I knew that for me it was about life and loving and God, my journey with Cyndi, my changing relationship with my dad and my mom, my years as a writer and a teacher, my decades as an engineer, my role as father and father-in-law and grandfather, and even my current stint as Uncle Hub. Those are all parts of my own personal pilgrimage, my Camino.

And my immediate answer to the question, without thinking or blinking, an answer that surprised me in its simplicity and clarity, yet made complete sense as the words rolled through my brain, was this: Further up and further in. It’s a phrase from The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis’s final book in The Chronicles of Narnia.

I don’t know how Lewis intended the phrase to be interpreted, but I think of further up in regards to knowledge and wisdom, and further in in regards to relationships. I want to go further up - learn more, know more, experience more, live more, and study more. I want to go further in - love more, feel more, and understand more. I want more of both. That’s why I’m walking.

But that can’t be the end of it. As Erwin McManus wrote, “Your life can never be simply about you.”

So, my real reason? To bring a crowd as we go further up and further in together. To pull back the curtain and show a bigger, wider, deeper, and longer view of God’s world. To enjoy the companionship of fellow travelers.

As the movie tagline says, “Life is too big to walk it alone.” It make me happy to know many of you are walking alongside.

QUESTION: What is your reason? What is your Camino?

 “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

Do the work: Some thoughts on living your calling

by Berry Simpson

“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.” Legendary American track star and Olympian, Steve Prefontaine, said this about running, but the sentiment applies to anything we are called to do.

I’m sorry to admit, I doubt I’ve ever committed my absolute best to anything. In fact, maybe I don’t even know my best when I see it. I hope I will, someday, when I finally grow up.

On the other hand, it is part of my personality to learn as much as I can digest about anything I undertake, whether writing, teaching, running, cycling, marriage, or theology. In fact, knowing that about me is one reason I hesitate before taking on a new project; I know how much time and effort it will cost. It usually surprises me when other people don’t feel the same way.

For example, I once served twelve years as an elected city official, and I was continually baffled that not all my fellow councilmembers would make time to go to conferences and training to hear what the most innovative cities were doing. How could they hope to serve people if their only government wisdom came from what they already knew? No wonder we often ended up with small-minded solutions. To be uninterested about learning seemed lazy, at best, arrogant and self-serving, at worst. It’s sacrificing the gift.

Sorry. I started this by writing about calling.

God's calling (or assignment, or gifting, or special talent) is not a ticket for a free ride, but an obligation to go to work. But when we work hard to develop the calling God has given us, it isn’t onerous. It might be hard, but it comes with joy and fullness.

To have a special gift as a teacher, for example, doesn’t mean teaching will be easy, it means we have more to live up to. It isn’t a free ride; it’s a noble obligation. Not because God needs our help to make sure he gets the results he wants, but because we owe God our best. How dare we toss something out there half-baked and expect it to be OK because “it is for God.”

Simply making a joyful noise is not enough. I want to play the right notes, in tune, with joy in my heart. I want to write the best books and essays that I can. I don’t want to meet God someday only to find him holding one of my books, saying, “I gave you those great insights and the desire to write them out and publish them, but you blew it with bad grammar and tacky typesetting. What were you thinking?”

There is a Bible story about the aging King David, who was giving advice his successors. He told his son, Solomon, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid ... He will not fail you." (1 Chronicles 28:20 NIV) The phrase that stopped me in my tracks was "Do the work." Just like Solomon, we have to do the work, take the training, practice the craft, risk rejection, and cultivate expert opinions, every day.

Social researcher Brene’ Brown wrote, “It was clear to me that living a wholehearted life included engaging in what many people I interviewed called meaningful work. Others spoke of having a calling. We all have gifts and talents. When we cultivate those gifts and share them with the world, we create a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives.” (The Gifts of Imperfection)

She also wrote, “Squandering our gifts brings distress to our lives. If we don’t use the gifts that we’ve been given, we pay for it with our emotional and physical well-being. When we don’t use our talents to cultivate meaningful work, we struggle. We feel disconnected and weighed down by feelings of emptiness, frustration, resentment, shame, disappointment, fear, and even grief.”

Here’s another thought, from Wide Awake, by Erwin McManus: “The world desperately needs the power of your life fully lived. You have no greater responsibility than to live the life God created you to live … your life can never be simply about you.”

So in the spirit of vulnerability, here is what I believe in my heart. I believe I have books in me that will change lives, which will draw readers into a closer relationship with God, and encourage readers to pursue their love. What I don’t know is which book will do all of that. Maybe I have to publish a dozen books, clearing the slate and opening my mind, before I’m smart enough and skilled enough to get down to the book God will use.

Therefore, I feel obligated to read the clever writers, study the best writing advice, learn about publishing and marketing, and recruit professionals to help me. To do anything less would be to sacrifice the gift.

How about you? Using your gifts and talents to create meaningful work takes a tremendous amount of commitment, because in most cases the meaningful work is not what pays the bills. Most of us have to piece it together. But we all have to do the work.

QUESTION: What skills or projects do you feel compelled to improve? Do they add meaning to your life? Does improving them bring you joy?

“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

Do the work: Some thoughts on living your calling

by Berry Simpson

“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.” Legendary American track star and Olympian, Steve Prefontaine, said this about running, but the sentiment applies to anything we are called to do.

I’m sorry to admit, I doubt I’ve ever committed my absolute best to anything. In fact, maybe I don’t even know my best when I see it. I hope I will, someday, when I finally grow up.

On the other hand, it is part of my personality to learn as much as I can digest about anything I undertake, whether writing, teaching, running, cycling, marriage, or theology. In fact, knowing that about me is one reason I hesitate before taking on a new project; I know how much time and effort it will cost. It usually surprises me when other people don’t feel the same way.

For example, I once served twelve years as an elected city official, and I was continually baffled that not all my fellow councilmembers would make time to go to conferences and training to hear what the most innovative cities were doing. How could they hope to serve people if their only government wisdom came from what they already knew? No wonder we often ended up with small-minded solutions. To be uninterested about learning seemed lazy, at best, arrogant and self-serving, at worst. It’s sacrificing the gift.

Sorry. I started this by writing about calling.

God's calling (or assignment, or gifting, or special talent) is not a ticket for a free ride, but an obligation to go to work. But when we work hard to develop the calling God has given us, it isn’t onerous. It might be hard, but it comes with joy and fullness.

To have a special gift as a teacher, for example, doesn’t mean teaching will be easy, it means we have more to live up to. It isn’t a free ride; it’s a noble obligation. Not because God needs our help to make sure he gets the results he wants, but because we owe God our best. How dare we toss something out there half-baked and expect it to be OK because “it is for God.”

Simply making a joyful noise is not enough. I want to play the right notes, in tune, with joy in my heart. I want to write the best books and essays that I can. I don’t want to meet God someday only to find him holding one of my books, saying, “I gave you those great insights and the desire to write them out and publish them, but you blew it with bad grammar and tacky typesetting. What were you thinking?”

There is a Bible story about the aging King David, who was giving advice his successors. He told his son, Solomon, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid ... He will not fail you." (1 Chronicles 28:20 NIV) The phrase that stopped me in my tracks was "Do the work." Just like Solomon, we have to do the work, take the training, practice the craft, risk rejection, and cultivate expert opinions, every day.

Social researcher Brene’ Brown wrote, “It was clear to me that living a wholehearted life included engaging in what many people I interviewed called meaningful work. Others spoke of having a calling. We all have gifts and talents. When we cultivate those gifts and share them with the world, we create a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives.” (The Gifts of Imperfection)

She also wrote, “Squandering our gifts brings distress to our lives. If we don’t use the gifts that we’ve been given, we pay for it with our emotional and physical well-being. When we don’t use our talents to cultivate meaningful work, we struggle. We feel disconnected and weighed down by feelings of emptiness, frustration, resentment, shame, disappointment, fear, and even grief.”

Here’s another thought, from Wide Awake, by Erwin McManus: “The world desperately needs the power of your life fully lived. You have no greater responsibility than to live the life God created you to live … your life can never be simply about you.”

So in the spirit of vulnerability, here is what I believe in my heart. I believe I have books in me that will change lives, which will draw readers into a closer relationship with God, and encourage readers to pursue their love. What I don’t know is which book will do all of that. Maybe I have to publish a dozen books, clearing the slate and opening my mind, before I’m smart enough and skilled enough to get down to the book God will use.

Therefore, I feel obligated to read the clever writers, study the best writing advice, learn about publishing and marketing, and recruit professionals to help me. To do anything less would be to sacrifice the gift.

How about you? Using your gifts and talents to create meaningful work takes a tremendous amount of commitment, because in most cases the meaningful work is not what pays the bills. Most of us have to piece it together. But we all have to do the work.

QUESTION: What skills or projects do you feel compelled to improve? Do they add meaning to your life? Does improving them bring you joy?

“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

Last Best Day

As runners, “We never know what isgoing to be our Last Best Day. The race that turns out to be our Last Best Day can’t be recognized in the moment, it can be seen only in retrospect.” That’s what I read last weekend from John Bingham’s most recent book, Accidental Athlete. It probably applies to more than running.

My Last Best Race was a race I didn’t actually finish. I dropped out. In fact, it’s more accurate to say the race director pulled me off the course because it was obvious I couldn’t finish before the time cutoff. It was the Rockledge Rumble 50K; a trail run in Grapevine that I did with Chad in November 2010. I made it about twenty-two miles before being encouraged to stop.

Why would I say a race I couldn’t finish was my Last Best Race? Because it was so much fun. I loved running through the trees and on the uneven dirt trails, the uphills and downhills, and winding in and out. I simply loved it. Other than the discomfort from running so far, I was happy every step of the way. It made my heart happy and I wanted more. Even though I didn’t finish, I ended the day invigorated.

As a man firmly entrenched in my 50s, I’ve come to grips with the fact that, at least as a runner, my improvement days are behind me. Oh, maybe I could do something to make my knees work better, like replace them with a bionic pair, but I doubt it would get me another 3:52 marathon, my personal best from twenty-five years ago.

I’m not complaining. I don’t mind the limitations of age. I’m happy to be running and moving as well as I do. And, in fact, getting older takes some of the pressure off. Now I can simply take the miles as they come and enjoy myself, settle in and have fun moving down the road.

So back to the Rockledge Rumble. I didn’t resent being pulled off the course that day. The race director did the right thing. But what bothered me on the drive home was the possibility that I’d waited too many years to try running a 50K trail run, waited until both knees hurt from arthritis, and that I wasted all those younger years because I was unprepared, too slow, or too heavy. In my 20s, 30s, and 40s I was afraid of the wrong things. I should have been more worried about not squandering my youth.

Of course, I can’t get any of that back, but neither do I have to accept that my best days are behind me. I can still do better. I can go further. And I have one big strategy to make my knees feel better that will cost me nothing. Lose weight down to 175 pounds.

I don’t know if that is even possible. I haven’t weighed 175 since 1974, but that’s where the height and weight charts point me for maximum performance, so I think I should try.

The reason I think it will help is that I feel the added strain on my knees whenever I walk across the training room at Gold’s Gym with weights in my hand. I can feel it with every step. That tells me I should reduce the strain even more by losing twenty-five pounds.

There is no way to know if losing twenty-five pounds will translate into further or faster, or even less pain, but it would be a shame to look back twenty years from now and wonder why I never tried and why I squandered the youth of my 50s.

I should mention the reason I am writing about this. Normally, if I have a goal as un-hide-able as losing twenty-five pounds, I’ll keep it to myself. I would rather no one know what I was doing until I have successfully completed the goal instead of everyone watching my progress, or lack of progress.

But John Bingham’s book wasn’t the only book I read last weekend. I also finished The Gifts of Imperfection, by Brene’ Brown, and her call for living vulnerably made sense to me. The first vulnerable action I could think of was to make my goal public and risk the scrutiny and judgment from the outside world. So, here I am.

Two last quotes, one from each book:

“Running has become an act of faith. Running allows me to believe that there is something better out there for me. Running allows me to believe that I can be not just a better runner but a better person.” (Accidental Athlete)

“Recognizing and leaning into the discomfort of vulnerability teaches us how to live with joy, gratitude, and grace.” (The Gifts of Imperfection)

So that is my plan. To be a leaner, lighter, and better person who lives with joy, gratitude, and grace. Care to join me? Maybe we can run out Last Best Race together.

QUESTION: When was your Last Best Race? What goals are you nervous to make public?

PS: Check out Brene’ Brown’s TED talks, from June 2010 and March 2012. They are life changing.

“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

Worried about trusting

by Berry D Simpson

Is it always bad to worry about stuff? People say that 90% of what we worry about never happens, but isn’t that an argument in favor of worry? As for me, I worry about things all the time. It’s just that I do my worrying on the inside, to myself, so it isn’t obvious to everyone else.

I recently attended Pantego Bible Church with my daughter and son-in-law, Katie and Drew, and in their Community Group (I would call it Sunday School), we talked about our tendency to worry, and about Jesus’ admonition from Matthew 6.

 “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (from Matthew 6:25 and 34, NIV)

The problem I have with this verse is that I don’t know how to stop worrying on command. To tell me to stop worrying is like Cyndi telling me to “just relax” when we’re dancing. If I could relax on purpose I would be relaxed already. Likewise, if I could simply stop worrying, I would. I need a strategy, an activity to do, in place of worry. Maybe it’s the same for you.

So the very next Monday morning I read a great follow-up to our Sunday discussion about worry, from

Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young: “Sit quietly in My presence while I bless you. Make your mind like a still pool of water, ready to receive whatever thoughts I drop into it. Calmly bring matters to me … then simply do the next thing.”

Sarah Young gave two good strategies for handling worry, the first was contemplative meditation. She said that instead of trying to solve all the problems and work it out myself, I should settle my mind and let God drop his thoughts inside. Wait for him to speak.

Here’s how it works for me. When I’m buried by worries I often find myself praying, “Lord I don’t know what to do with this, my attitude stinks, so I’m asking you to speak to me.” Then I start writing in my journal, creating a dialogue, even argument, with myself, going over all the worries I’ve had, and listing my own crazy solutions.

It’s important for me to physically write these down on paper. Just thinking about them, or even talking about them, doesn’t do the same thing. Over and over God speaks to me while I am writing, while I have my pen in my hand scratching on paper. When I finish I’ve written out ideas and solutions that had never occurred to me before I started writing.

Another thing that happens: Sometimes I hear from God directly. I would say I hear an audible voice but that’s too spooky to put into print. But it happens in the most unlikely of places, such as in the stairwell at my office, or cycling down Highway 191, or running on the dirt roads near my house, or even in the shower at Gold’s Gym. It never comes all at once and the solution is never what I expected, but there is no mistaking God as the source.

Those two scenarios (writing in my journal or hearing God’s voice) have happened so often I’ve grown to expect them. Instead of worrying on my own, I’ve learned to relax into the process and trust that God will indeed, speak to me again.

Curiously, this reminds me of when I started reading Tom Clancy. With the first book, Hunt for Red October, I fell into a predictable pattern: (1) I struggled through the first third of the book trying to learn the characters and keep up with the threads; until (2) I realized Clancy would remember the characters I needed to know so I relaxed and enjoyed the middle third of the book; but (3) I would lay awake in bed half the night trying to solve the rest of the puzzle and save the world. Eventually I reminded myself that Clancy was better at figuring out the solution than I was, and besides, he had already written the book. So I got out of bed and finished the last third of the book that night. I let the expert tell me his story instead of trying to figure it out myself. Instead of losing sleep worrying, I lost sleep reading, which was much better.

And while you might think I would remember this solution with the next Clancy book and avoid the sleepless nights, I never did. I repeated the same entire sequence of trying to do it myself before letting the expert handle it. At least a dozen times.

This is how I’ve learned to trust God. When I find myself paralyzed with worry over an upcoming choice or conversation or confrontation, I have to remind myself to trust the expert. God has already worked out the story. Just let him tell me the details in his own good time.

I wish I could say I remember this whenever a new problem comes up, but I don’t. I repeat the same sorry sequence of trying to do it myself before, finally, writing and listening and letting the expert handled it.

Back to Sarah Young’s advice, “Calmly bring matters to me (God) … then simply do the next thing.”

This is the tricky part. If I ask God to speak to me, and I ask him to change my heart, I’m obligated to step gingerly through the next opening, next idea, next pattern, or next attitude. Seeking God only works if I’m willing to step through his openings into his solutions.

QUESTION: How about you, how do you cope with worry?

“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

Remodeled

by Berry D Simpson

Not sure if you’ve noticed this, but I don’t need a lot of change in my life. For example, I just bought a pickup and gave my old one to my son. The new truck is a red Toyota Tacoma, exactly like my first one except newer and with fewer miles. My pens and books and tie-down ropes and fleece jackets (for Cyndi) all fit in exactly the same places. A new truck exactly like my old truck … made me very happy. Like I said, I don’t need a lot of change.

Another example? I tend to leave things alone. I’ve never done much remodeling in the places where I live. I might become obsessive while designing a space, going over the details and options for way too long, but once the space is built and I’ve moved in, I’ happy to leave it as it is from now on. That’s true for houses, my work space and desk, my closet, my pickup, and true for my yard and landscaping.

It isn’t that I am afraid of the process. I built a wall in our garage in Brownfield, creating a nice utility room, and I built a wall and changed closets in our house on Whittle Way, providing more useful space for both Byron and Katie. But that’s about it for home remodeling. I haven’t needed or wanted to change anything else.

Regarding landscaping, I’ve only changed our yard once, when we replaced turf grass with ground cover in 1998. I suppose I did recreate our back yard once, but that was more recovery than remodeling since our pet rabbits ate all the grass down to the dirt and we had to start over.

All that is to say, I like things, in general, the way they are. Which is usually the same as the way they were.

However, I’ve also learned to embrace the energy that change brings. For me, one of the joys of aging is that I don’t resist change as much as I used to. I may not initiate it, but I look forward to it. I’ve finally grown up enough that I like to try new things and learn new skills and new ideas. I don’t want to become that cranky “you kids get off my lawn” guy.

Granted, my personal vision of life change is mostly made up of slightly newer versions of what I am already doing. Nothing radical. I’m hardly an early-adopter. And certainly, I don’t make changes simply for the purpose of changing. I need a better reason than that.

But even the few things I’ve changed aren’t such a big deal. Living space is just wood and concrete, landscaping is just plants and trees, new exercise programs are just more opportunities to sweat and buy new gear.

The reason I’m writing about something I don’t do much of, is, the title of my next book, which should be out this fall, will be Remodeled: Stories from a Changed Heart. Because of the title, I have been playing around with the notion of remodeling. And the remodeling I’m most concerned with is the reshaping of my heart.

Each time I tell my story to the guys, something I do a half dozen times a year, I’m more aware of how Jesus has remodeled my heart, making it into his home. Not with hammer, nails, or sheetrock and paint, but with adventures and tragedies and writing and teaching. And with Cyndi. The biggest tool Jesus has for remodeling my heart into his image is the influence of Cyndi living alongside me.

In fact, I’ve changed more than I thought I needed to. Having grown up in church among a devout and faithful Christian family, I assumed if my heart needed changing it would be only small increments. I never figured I’d need serious remodeling.

This week I noticed the remodeling project going on at the Burger King restaurant on Andrews Highway in Midland. Have you seen it? The sign out front says “Closed for remodel,” but all that is left of the original structure is a pile of broken concrete. They are remodeling the building all the way down to the dirt, stretching the word “remodel” way beyond its original meaning.

Is that how Jesus remodels our hearts? While we are cruising along through life thinking all we need is a small touch-up, does Jesus notice our foundation is shot and he has to start over from scratch? I don’t know if it always has to be that severe, but I’m sure I wouldn’t change at all if Jesus didn’t make it happen.

So here is my challenge. Ask Jesus to remodel your heart into his image. Give him access to all your hidden closets and attic space and landscaping. Know that it will be messy and dusty and, like all remodeling projects, take longer than you expected. Trust that in the process of being changed his grace will flow through you into the lives of your family and friends. Be brave. Embrace the change.

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

Journal Entry 083012: Remodeled

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