Independence Day Again

(I first published this in 2009. This morning, when I once again read the passage about Hezekiah, I knew I had to run it again.)

      Cyndi and I once spent Independence Day in Estes Park Colorado with the Ross family at their vacation home. We almost always stay home on July 4th, but that year we escaped.

      We started the day early, following Paul up his regular morning hike to the top of the tramway on Prospect Mountain. It was mostly bushwhacking and boulder-scrambling up an invisible path that Paul has followed since he was eight years old.

      After breakfast, we drove downtown and joined the hundreds of other holiday visitors in touristy shopping for a couple of hours; then we set up the grill and cooked delicious Independence Day hamburgers and hot dogs.

      Later that evening we followed the stream of pilgrims slowly moving down the walkway beside the river, chair bags slung over their shoulders, baby strollers loaded with babies, to watch the city-sponsored fireworks display. In general, I like fireworks, but not as much as Cyndi does. It usually doesn’t occur to me to make the effort to find a fireworks show, but Cyndi loves it and I love going with her. This particular fireworks show turned out to be the best ever. It was amazing. It was all over the sky. It was creative and original. It was substantial. It was great!

      At one point during the afternoon between hamburgers and fireworks, I managed to squeeze in fifteen minutes in a creaking rocking chair on the front porch to read from my Daily Bible. The passage for July 4th is from II Chronicles 29, and it’s about King Hezekiah and his national movement of reform. During a previous year’s reading I had written in the margin of my Bible: “A great passage for the 4th.”

      Hezekiah’s first move was to open the doors to the temple and repair them. He could have blamed organized religion for the sorry state of his kingdom, but he didn’t. It is always easy to blame religion for the evil in the world. Nowadays it’s very hip to say such things about religion, and it makes us feel clever and original, but actually there is nothing new about it.

      We followers of God are too quick to blame ourselves; I expect Hezekiah would’ve thought so, too. The first reform he put into place was to repair the doors to the temple so that organized religion could get back to work. Maybe we need to put our doors back in place and stop complaining.

      Later in the chapter it says that when the priests and Levites were ready to start work in the service of God, they assembled and consecrated themselves before going in to purify the temple. I had written in the margin: “How should I do this to myself before a spiritual encounter?” I think I’ve bought into the idea so deeply that God, through his grace, accepts me and loves me the way I am, I forget to get myself ready to meet him.

      Just because God loves me unconditionally is no reason to take him for granted, any more than knowing Cyndi loves me is reason to take her for granted. In both cases my action (or inaction) may not change the love from God or from Cyndi, but taking either of them for granted will do damage to me. It will harden my heart. I believe whatever those priests and Levites did to consecrate themselves had less to do with pleasing God than with preparing their own hearts. I’m pretty sure I need to do more of that.

      The story of Hezekiah ended in Chapter 32 with this statement: “This is what Hezekiah did throughout Judah, doing what was good and right and faithful before the Lord his God. In everything he undertook in the service of God’s temple and in obedience to the law and the commands, he sought his God and worked wholeheartedly. And so he prospered.”

      The story of Hezekiah is exactly what I need on Independence Day. I have a tendency to be too independent, and I need a reminder of where the strength of my life comes from.

      One of the reasons I like reading through this same copy of the Bible year after year is that the lessons I learn come at me again, year after year. I tend to cross my arms and think, “There, learned that one,” but in reality, I never learn anything that well. It’s good to rediscover important truths each year, over and over. For all my thoughts about Independence Day and Hezekiah, I know that next July 4th, whatever adventures we’re taking, wherever we’re staying, I’ll be reading this again and learning more. I hope it never ends.

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

You Have Arrived

      We just spent three days in Austin, where Cyndi attended a workshop and I entertained myself navigating freeways. I should add, while I’m good at entertaining myself, it’s easier when the weather isn’t so hot. I packed clothes for walking around Town Lake, but 90* and 90% was too much for me to handle. I mostly entertained myself under air conditioners.

      Driving in an unfamiliar city is easier than it used to be. All I had to do in Austin was punch my destination into my phone and the nice GPS lady told me turn-by-turn how to get there. And she didn’t scold me like my old GPS helper, who would snidely say, “Recalculating Route,” to remind me I missed a turn and messed up her perfect plan for my life.

      I posted on Facebook: “There aren’t many more satisfying statements than, “You have arrived,” as stated by my GPS when driving around an unfamiliar city.”

      Like when we finally find the restaurant we’ve been circling around, to hear, “You have arrived.” That feels good.

      Or when I wind my way into the parking lot at the Veloway in pre-dawn darkness to meet my brother for a bike ride, to hear, “You have arrived.”

      Or when we pull up in front of our hotel after missing not one, not two, but three exits trying to get there, to hear, “You have arrived.” After being lost, it was encouraging to know we finally had a place to sleep.

      I wish I heard that sort of encouragement more often during my everyday walkabout life.

      Like, for example, when I’ve spent a week or two editing a piece of personal writing but I’m afraid to stop before it’s perfect, how great it would be to hear, “Put your red pen down, you have arrived.”

      Or, after working on a trombone solo so long I’m getting diminishing returns, to hear, “Put you horn in the case, you have arrived.”

      Or after doing ab workouts in the gym, to hear, “Go take a shower, 200 crunches are enough, you have arrived.”

      Or on Thursday when I can’t stop tweaking my Sunday School lesson, to hear, “You already have what you need to say, print it on yellow paper, you have arrived.”

      But on the other side of that desire to know I’ve arrived is … well, sometimes I hope I’ll never arrive. As in, “Hang up your bike, put away your walking shoes, you’ve gone far enough for one lifetime, you have arrived.”

      I don’t want to hear that. How would I learn anything new? Moving long distances has been so foundational to my learning and deepening and persevering, why would I want to ever arrive at the end? I have miles to go before I sleep.

      Or what if I heard, “Take a seat weary pilgrim, you’ve journeyed far enough. You’ve learned enough, read enough, been through your Daily Bible enough, discussed lessons enough, told stories enough, traveled enough long journeys in search of deeper convictions and a changed heart. You have arrived.” Today, a few days before my 68th birthday, I hope my pilgrim days never end.

      I used to dream of the day when I would know for certain God’s ultimate will for my life, when my career would be settled and successful, when I would reach my marathon running goals (one more), when I would have my life with Cyndi figured out, when I would finally arrive. But … what a boring life that would be.

      One last thing about arriving.

      Following our weekend in Austin, we spent four days in Indianapolis. On our trip home, as our first flight approached Denver, the flight attendants asked us to clean up the area around our seats. About a dozen times. Each attendant took a turn. They repeated it so many times it was irritating, and then it was funny.

      About three hours later, when our second flight landed in Midland, I gathered up my stuff only to realize I was missing my blue file folder. The folder I’ve used to keep my notes for Sunday morning for at least twenty-five years.

      It turned out, all those repeated requests on the first flight to clean up our area were aimed directly at me and my blue folder. And I failed the challenge.

      It was discouraging. I had years of thought and energy in that folder. Not to mention the notes I had been working on for a week.

      Why am I telling you that story?

      Because it was obvious to me that I’m still a long way from arriving. Bummer.

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

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Identity Shift

      Do you like to walk? Do you consider yourself a walker?

      I saw this quote from comedian Stephen Wright: “Everywhere is within walking distance if you have the time,” and so to prove the point I asked the mapping app on my phone to give me a route for walking from our house in Midland, Texas, to our daughter’s house in Mansfield, Texas, 319 miles. The app said it would take 4 days and 13 hours to walk, which breaks out to 3 miles per hour, or 20 minutes per mile. I doubt I could keep that pace for four-and-a-half days straight, but like Stephen Wright said, everywhere is within walking distance.

*  *  *  *  *

      On May 31, I finished 46 years of running; I started in June 1978, hoping to impress a girl. During all those years I’ve run a total of 39,428 miles. (I was never a fast runner, but always a reliable documenter.)

      Nowadays, I’m no longer running thanks to two after-market knees and one rebuilt foot, but I’m walking three miles about 3-4 times per week. And, yes, I include those walks in my running log. That is, I record my intentional miles, the ones I mean to be exercise and not just pedestrian transportation.

      If I continue my current pace of thirty miles per month, I’ll cross the 40,000 miles threshold by the end of December 2025. 40,000 is pretty cool, but a year-and-a-half is a long time to push toward a goal. Maybe I’ll make it a group event, invite fellow walkers to join me, and after mile 40,000 we can all have a milkshake together.

*  *  *  *  *

      It only took me six or seven years to be comfortable describing what I do as walking instead of running. I had too much identity tied up in the word running. In fact, my first book was titled, Running With God. And it isn’t a coincidence that the first writing I did for public consumption was for the local running club newsletter in 1988. My best ideas were born on the run.

      A couple of years ago I finally admitted to myself that most observers never considered what I did to be actual running. More than once, more than ten or twenty times, someone would tell me they saw me out powerwalking when I thought I was running.

      My transition from running to walking was more about definitions than speed or form. Today I’m OK telling Cyndi, “I’m going out walking,” but it took me a long time to feel good about saying walking instead of running. It felt too much like downsizing.

*  *  *  *  *

      When walking in Spain on the Camino, our longest day was fourteen miles. I was exhausted by the time we got to our hotel, but I knew I could have gone further if necessary. I asked myself: Could I train for another marathon? Do I have the patience to walk that far knowing it would probably take me eight hours or more? Not only do I worry whether I have patience for that, can I actually expect someone (Cyndi) to accompany me and wait that long?

*  *  *  *  *

      Back in 1978 I never imagined that running (now walking) would become instrumental in how I lived my life, how I planned my time, where I traveled for fun and leisure, how I met my friends, and how I ended up serving in local government. I certainly didn’t expect the daily dose of being alone on my feet would become spiritual meditation. I didn’t intend for running to become such an integral part of my life. All I wanted to do was win back my girl.

*  *  *  *  *

PS: The best news of all? That girl I was trying to win back - her name is Cyndi, and we’ve been married now for almost 45 years.

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

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

Epic Adventures

      On my backpack that I carry around every day, the one that has my books and journal and sudoku puzzles and Bible in it, I have two patches that Cyndi sewed on for me. The oldest patch is red and white and says Keep Exploring. It was given to me by my daughter Katherine Noss in 2016, and I love if for two reasons: (1) it describes who I want to be and how I want to live – physically, intellectually, artistically, all that; and (2) it makes me happy that my adult children see me as that sort of person.

      The second patch features a yellow graphical seashell on a blue background and is a symbol of the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Having the patch nearby reminds me of our adventure last summer when Cyndi and I walked on the Camino.

      One morning last week I pulled a book from my backpack: It’s Your Call by Gary Barkalow. In his book, Gary asked, “If I took you into a Blockbuster and asked you to find a story that best represents the story you are living in, in what section would you start looking: action and adventure, drama, comedy, sci-fi and fantasy, animation, horror, family and kids, mystery and suspense, romance, documentary, war? The reason I ask is because the story you believe you are living determines how you interpret and react to life.” (I’m sure Gary would use Netflix or Prime nowadays rather than Blockbuster.)

      I thought a long time about his question. Cyndi and I have a long list of movies we like to watch, over and over, but do those movies describe our story?

      Just because a movie is fun and entertaining doesn’t mean it represents the story we want to live. For example, I enjoy all five Bourne movies, but I don’t want to live the lonely and invisible life of Jason Bourne. I need more personal contact than that. And more opportunity for influence.

      Cyndi and I like to watch romantic comedies, especially since we assume all love stories (as well as all love songs) are really about us. However, since we’ve been married almost forty-five years and we dated two-and-a-half years before that, the on-again off-again stories in most romantic comedies are not our story, and certainly the story we want to live.

      I also enjoy stories about quick adventures, like sky diving or hang gliding or flying at Mach 2, but those are mostly one-and-done bucket-list dreams. They describe an exciting lifestyle but don’t leave much room to invest in other people.

      What if I could choose the story of my life? Which category would I pick? The stories that pull at my heart and make me want to jump into the movie are epic tales that last a long time and change the characters in significant ways.

      So, instead of searching for an open Blockbuster, I took a quick look at our collection of DVDs and made a list of ten movies that tell stories I WISH I was in.

      A Walk in the Woods (2015) … two men in their sixties, both inexperienced backpackers, decide to hike the Appalachian Trail. (When we saw this in the theater, Cyndi leaned over during a scene when the men were pushing through the night in a blizzard, and asked, “You wish you were there with them, don’t you?”)

      The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013) … Mitty tries to keep his seemingly mundane job by traveling around the world chasing a legendary photojournalist. What does he learn? The lesson of most pilgrimages – he had what he needed all along. And, it wasn’t his job.

      The Way (2010) …An ophthalmologist mourns the death of his adult son by completing his son’s dream to hike the Camino de Santiago. The trip opens his heart and wakes him up to a new life of travel and adventure.

      The Lord of the Rings Movies trilogy (2001-2003) … essentially a long, long walk by a tribe of companions across mountains and through the woods interspersed with deadly combat. Perfect!

      180 Degrees South (2010) … a group of climbers travel to Patagonia, Chile, to climb mount Fitz Roy. “The best journeys answer questions that in the beginning you didn’t even think to ask.”

      The Martian (2015) … An astronaut stranded alone on Mars takes a 90-day cross-country journey in order to be rescued and returned to earth. He decides not to passively accept his situation but take control of his future by solving complex technical problems.

      Journey on the Wild Coast (2010) … A married couple attempt to walk, paddle and ski under their own power from Seattle to the Aleutians along the wild and remote northwest coast of North America. This is not fake reality TV. This is the real thing.

      Mile … Mile and A Half (2013) … In an epic snow year, five friends leave their daily lives behind to hike the 221-mile John Muir Trail in 25 days. “You need to EARN that view at the top of the mountain.”

      Running the Sahara (2007) … A documentary chronicling three men who run 4,300 miles across the Sahara Desert. Each of them decides at different times to quit but each time the other two talk him out of it. Their journey from Senegal to the Red Sea took 111 days.

      On A Clear Day (2006) … After losing his job at a Glasgow shipyard, a 50-year-old man decides to swim the English Channel in order to bring new purpose into his life. After pulling his friends into his training regimen and swim attempt, he successfully completed his journey of 21 miles swimming in frightfully cold water.

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      Epic adventure stories aren’t only in movies. While typing this I’m watching Stage 15 of the Giro d’Italia bicycle race. And in about a month I’ll watch the Tour de France. I seldom watch the one-day classic races but I’m drawn toward these epic multi-day stage races. I long for larger-than-life stories.

      How about you? What category tells the story of YOUR life?

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

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

Running to Forgive

      When was the last time you went searching for someone to show kindness? For me - too long. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever searched very hard.

      I was reading 2 Samuel 9:1, where David asked, “Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show kindness for Jonathan’s sake?”

      This is the prelude to a great Bible story, when David sought out Mephibosheth, son of his best friend Jonathan, to shower with grace and blessing. Not only is it one of my favorite stories, it is one of the first Bible stories I learned as a very young boy.

      I used to fall asleep at night listening to Bible stories from a set of vinyl records my mom and dad bought for me. I learned all those stories by heart through nightly repetition, and my brain still plays the organ music and narration whenever I read one of the stories in my Bible, even after 60 years. Not only that, I remember how proud I was that I could pronounce Mephibosheth. None of my peers could.

      This story describes one of David’s first acts after becoming king. His journey to the throne, promised to him by God, was long and difficult, and for the most of it, he was running for his life from Saul. So when he finally received what God had promised so many years before, you might think he would take revenge on all those who had been chasing him. What David does, however, is ask if there is anyone left from the previous king’s family he can show kindness to. That is a great way to live; a great way to wear power.

      In his excellent book, Gracenomics, Mike Foster encouraged his readers to “be first in line to forgive, to race to release grudges, make room for those on life’s margins, raise our voice for the vulnerable, and accept the unacceptable.”

      Again, what a way to live. Running to the front of the line to show grace and forgiveness is a great way to wear power and influence.

      Too often our first response is to see if they really deserve forgiveness, wait to see if grace is warranted, wondering if they’ve made genuine change in their attitude and behavior. We’d rather analyze and evaluate than run to forgive.

      So why aren’t we always the first in line to forgive? Why aren’t we the first to forgive family debts or slights? Why aren’t we the first in line to forgive political enemies? Why aren’t we first in line to forgive bosses who left us stranded when we needed their protection most? Why aren’t we first to forgive friends who hurt and betrayed us?

      Is it because we are afraid of making a mistake? Or because we are afraid of looking foolish? Or is it because we are afraid if we forgive too soon it will only encourage them to do it again? Is it because it is more fun to post diatribes and judgments rather than offer forgiveness and grace?

      In fact, it feels smarter, more discerning, maybe even deeper, to sit back and watch for real change before offering forgiveness. Running to forgive sounds too impulsive and naïve for those as spiritually sophisticated as us.

      But David didn’t hold back. In fact, he went searching for the very ones who had the most to fear from him. He sought out Mephibosheth, a man who was hiding in fear of his life. David went looking for someone to show grace to.

      Jesus didn’t hold back, either. When Peter came to him for forgiveness after denying three times, Jesus didn’t say, “I told you this would happen,” or “I’ll forgive you after I see you’ve really changed.” Jesus forgave Peter immediately and completely.

      I believe that if Judas had run back to Jesus instead of hanging himself, he would have received the same love and acceptance and forgiveness as Peter. Judas simply didn’t believe in the goodness of Jesus’ heart, so he didn’t risk asking forgiveness. What a shame.

      Maybe the reason we’re slow to forgive is that we don’t really trust Jesus’ heart, either.

      I wonder if I can live Mike Foster’s challenge, running to the front of the line to be the first to forgive, first to offer grace and help.

      How about you?

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

Zone of Totality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Call To Action

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This is an excerpt from my book, Practicing Faith.
The two granddaughters are now ages 14 and 11.
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       One Saturday Cyndi and I rendezvoused with our daughter, Katie, in Abilene, halfway between our house in Midland and Katie’s house in Mansfield. Katie handed off her own two daughters, Madden (age four) and Landry (age one), and what seemed to be three hundred pounds of baby gear. The girls were going to spend a week with their Gran and Pops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

20 Good Books I Read in 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

100 Things That Made 2023

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

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

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

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

      Why is that?

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

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

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

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

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

100 Things That Made 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

11. Reading my Daily Bible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

29. Podcast: McCartney: A Life in Lyrics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

44. Podcast: Ask Dr. E

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

46. Dancing with Cyndi.

47. Observing the annular solar eclipse in October.

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

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

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

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

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

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

54. Whataburger Yeti cup.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

77. Book: Confronting Christianity, by Rebecca McLaughlin

78. Cyndi Simpson in yoga pants.

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

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

81. Byron’s Duck Ruloud for Thanksgiving Dinner.

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

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

84. Not watching 24-hour TV news.

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

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

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

88. Tuesday morning gentle yoga class.

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

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

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

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

93. Sharing cartoons on my Facebook page.

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

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

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

97. Book: Being Disciples, by Rowan Williams

98. Attending the storytelling workshop taught by Sue Roseberry.

99. Book: Finding Elevation, by Lisa Thompson

100. Book: Confronting Jesus, by Rebecca McLaughlin

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

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