In Gennesaret

 For those of you living under a rock, Texas went all to frozen-over hell this week. Those of you who were not rockbound, however, might be surprised to hear that the winter "event" actually started a week ago Thursday. ICE was coming. Parents were picking up kids early from our school, and we cancelled all after school activities. Friday’s school was done over Google Meet with everyone in their homes. And we all were preparing for snow on Monday. Snow! In San Antonio! How exciting! But ohhhhh, friends . . . we had no idea. Understand, smug northern folk, that Texas – especially southern Texas where I live -- is simply not equipped for extended winter weather. Snow and ice come quite rarely and melt quickly. Few people own even a snow shovel. Cities certainly don’t have materials and equipment on hand to de-ice roads. Houses are built for staying COOL in hot summer weather, not for staying warm in the winter. So, when the biggest winter storm that my native Texas frie...

At a particularly difficult time in my marriage many years ago, I was sharing my struggle with a friend (a very young, single friend, which in retrospect may not have been the wisest choice, but that’s water under an old, distant bridge now). My young, single friend turned to me and sincerely asked, “Gwen, is this really worth it? This monogamous marriage business – is it worth the work and struggle?” I stared daggers into him for a moment and said, “This is not the day to ask me that question.” But after I went home and pondered it a while, I was able to tell him . . . yes. Yes, it’s worth it. And even now, I still think so. Marriage is HARD. I think even couples who have had beautiful, loving, long-lasting relationships could testify to the difficulties they’ve gone through learning how to be a good spouse. None of this comes naturally to humans – we’re selfish little snits. “One-ness” with another human being is so very, very hard . But it’s a good hard. If you do marriage right – ...

 Happy New Year, y’all. Xīnnián kuàilè. Friday is Chinese New Year. I know this because I teach English classes online to Chinese kids, so it behooves me to have some basic knowledge of the culture and traditions. This is the Chinese equivalent to our December-long Christmas extravaganza. They have a month-long winter holiday to celebrate. They eat dumplings and wear red and hang lanterns and shoot fireworks and open red envelopes stuffed with money from their grandparents. And family comes to town. A lot of people travel during these few weeks in China. At least they did before 2020. It was right before Chinese New Year last year that coronavirus exploded in China and everything in their world came to a dramatic halt. No New Year’s. No family reunions. No community celebrations. The kids didn’t go back to school for months. I was waking up at 5am to teach my sweet BaoBaos (who, on the other side of the world, were having their lessons with me right before bed) and seeing the...

I mentioned earlier that my mother was the quintessential 1950s housewife. That means, among other things, that she was a great cook. We rarely ate out: delicious home-cooked meals were the daily norm in our home. What’s more, she seemed to derive genuine pleasure from the process of deciding on meals, shopping for ingredients, preparing, serving, even the clean-up. Bless my heart . . . I am not my mama. Not that I’m a terrible cook. Not that I hate cooking necessarily. But I cannot say it is a source of pleasure in my life. Honestly, I think the worst part is figuring out what to make. Back when the girls were young and I was trying to be Perfect Wife and Perfect Mom, I would plan out my weekly meals before going to the grocery store. And it was so hard . Why? I can’t tell you. The pressure, maybe. I wanted us to eat healthy – that’s what Perfect Wife/Mom does for her family, right? But I also wanted them to LIKE the food I made. That’s part of Perfection as well. I also felt some...

 Last year, we had a new principal at our school. There are so many ways I could tell you how Stacey has made a difference in our school or in my life in the last year and a half. But the one that had the biggest impact in 2020 is this simple clause: “I get to”. While the rest of us would say “I have to meet with a parent this morning” or “I have to get my lesson plans up before I leave” or “I have to clean out the cat’s litter box tonight,” Stacey will very pointedly replace “I have to” with “I GET to”. I GET to meet with a parent this morning. (Yay . . . ) I GET to put up my lesson plans before I leave. (Woo hoo . . . ) I GET to clean out the cat’s litter box tonight. (Forced grin . . . ) But she actually says it with a smile. With genuine gratitude and enthusiasm. I mean, sometimes it takes a couple tries at the words for her to get to that point, but it’s an admirable thing to watch. I believe God put her and her repetitive little catchphrase in my life this year fo...

 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,...

 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 pur...