In Gennesaret

I love teaching Drama. And I love my dedicated Drama students . . . like my two senior girls who are in their fourth and fifth years with me in Drama class right now. These two took on the task of writing the play for this year’s Christmas program – and then casting and directing it. They’ve been working on this since June, and it all culminated last Tuesday night. I’m so proud of them. It was a kick sitting with them in the front pew just before the program started. “I can’t believe this is finally happening!” one of them squealed. A classmate had asked them earlier in the day what it was like to see their own play coming together on stage. “Weird – and scary,” was their consensus. (Yep! Been there.) But their excitement over the whole experience was palpable . . . and contagious. “It’s so weird . . . being here in the audience and not up there on stage,” one reflected. “It’s like, I have no control over any of it anymore.” (YES, SISTER. I feel your pain! That was one of the bigg...

In the past thirty-five years, I have lived in seven different cities in six different states. My current stint in San Antonio has been the longest: I’ve been here for eleven years. The longest before that was in New Jersey for ten. The rest of that time was in various spots in the Midwest, the region of the country where I grew up and that I most identify with. To echo a Christmas classic, it’s been a wonderful life. At least an interesting one, that’s for sure. Just in case you are not aware, New Jersey is a very different place from the Midwest. That move was quite the culture shock, friends. And Texas! Oh, y’all . . . it's a country to itself. But the dramatic cultural differences have not been a trial to me. They've actually been educational. And often entertaining. But there are other trying differences I’ve had to deal with that had more lasting impact on me. Curiously, in each place I’ve lived (at least since I’ve been a mother), I’ve somehow ended up in the . . ....

As I drug my lazy self out of bed yesterday morning after a few days of too much pie and too much time on the couch, my devotional was from the beginning of Psalm 118: Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. That staggering proclamation about God is repeated multiple times in the Old Testament – “his love endures forever.” In Ezra, Jeremiah, both books of Chronicles, several psalms . . . in fact, every single line of Psalm 136 ends with that phrase. And of course, after pondering these passages all day, now the old Chris Tomlin song quoting the verse has been running through my head. And while humming that catchy little tune, it suddenly occurred to me how very remarkable that belief is in the context of the Old Testament. I’m no ancient history expert, but I do know a bit about the other religions in the world during the time of ancient Israel when these books were written. And I don’t think any of those peoples proclaimed their gods as loving. Like, ...