In Gennesaret

 I don’t want to call them resolutions. “Resolve” was a vocab word with my middle schoolers last quarter – “to settle on a course of action”. Whoa . . . a bit too much pressure there. Plus, it’s almost February, a bit late for New Year’s Resolutions. And they’re not goals, either. Again, that implies some pressure to perform and achieve. Like I need more of that in my life. It’s more of a vision. An image of myself. Where I want to be – who I want to be. I read something once about not making To Do Lists, but rather making To BE Lists. So, here’s my list of Who I Want To Be In A Year. 1)      I want to be a healthier person . In all ways, but I’m specifically going to say physically because I succumbed to the wiles of pandemic living and gained my Covid 19 pounds last year. Which is mostly a problem because I now have only two pairs of slacks that I can wear to work. And y’all – you KNOW I’m not buying more pants like a pathetic sugar-addicted quitter. So, I’m eating healthier an

 And we have a new president. And a new vice president. In all honesty, until I saw posts on Facebook about friends gathering their daughters to watch the “historical moment” happening during the Inaugural, I completely forgot about the historical moment. A woman Vice President. Yay. I mean, I realize this IS historical, and it’s probably a big deal. But I’m afraid it didn’t feel like a big deal to me. Neither did Hillary’s nomination five years ago (and a lot of people gave me flak for that). I was genuinely moved about our first black President. But I don’t know why watching a woman climb that political ladder doesn’t excite me more than it does. Maybe something is wrong with me? Maybe it’s because I have never really felt suppressed as a woman. I don’t remember ever thinking there was anything I couldn’t do because of my gender. (Well . . . I can’t play on the Chiefs’ defensive line -- by the way, GO CHIEFS -- but other than that . . .) Of course, I have generally only pursued

I got to my online Bible study late because of another meeting, so I missed the bulk of the discussion. But it was clear from what the other women were saying that the general opinion of the Abraham-sacrificing-Isaac story (Genesis 22) was that Abraham did this with no hesitations. No questions. No doubting. He KNEW God would raise him from the dead again. Wow! What amazing faith he had! Oo! Ah! What a great example for us to follow! I got there late, so I kept my mouth shut. But Lord have mercy -- I could not get on board with this. For one thing, the idea that Abraham didn't question this? Are you kidding me? That's inconceivable. God was asking him to tie his son to an altar and put a knife through his heart. You're telling me he didn't even ask if he heard that correctly? That he didn't yell at God a while? Didn't argue what an insane command that was? Didn't come back with alternatives? Didn't cry at the mental image of what he was being asked to do

  Last summer, I had to move from my lovely home to a small rental house. Which sucked . Okay, I guess it doesn’t suck that I have less to maintain where I live now. That is a benefit since I know so little about home maintenance and have so little interest in learning. And I suppose there are some other positives about my new place. I am trying to look at the bright side in all this. But moving still sucked. I have been blessed (thanks to my ex-husband’s hard work, which I give him full credit for) to live in some very nice homes in very nice environments. Our house in New Jersey was in a neighborhood called Sturbridge Woods – literally, in the woods. It was so lovely. Our house in Sioux City was on the very south edge of town and the window in the great room looked out on a grassy valley – I mean, the view was GORGEOUS, people. And the house I just moved out of here in San Antonio had a walled-in courtyard in front with a fountain, shaded with beautiful live oak trees. It was

 So, hey. It’s been a while.  As some of you know, I used to have a blog -- kind of a public journal, I guess. It was a good activity for me; it forced me to pay attention to life and think somewhat deeply about things so I would have something at least a bit interesting to write about. And I was always amazed that people cared what I wrote and liked reading it. But I stopped writing, for a variety of reasons. When I went back to work, my “free” time got scarcer. And then the 2016 election happened, and I just got discouraged about all public discourse, I think. Too much anger and rancor . . . too little listening or grace. I didn’t feel up to making myself vulnerable in the middle of all that, so I just shut up for a while. In the meantime, my life has changed pretty dramatically. For one thing, I’m single again. Many of you reading this are friends and are probably floored at that announcement. I’m sorry if you’re sad or disappointed. I don’t intend to share details in this for