In Gennesaret

I saw a PA in my doctor’s office a few weeks ago about pain in my arm. He said it’s “texter’s elbow” (once more commonly known as “tennis elbow”) and prescribed me a whole bunch of meds and exercises and a band to wear on my arm, and he gave me his absolute assurance that this would go away. “It always does,” he said. Many of my friends have had the same malady and shared their own doctor’s advice – different exercises and massages and medicinal cocktails. "This made mine go away." "This took care of my pain immediately." But I was back at the doctor’s office last week because my arm was still hurting. This time, I saw a different PA . . . and he had a different story. Some of those exercises may help; some of them make it worse. If the band seems to be doing some good, okay; if not, stop wearing it. And actually, this pain may come and go for months; don’t expect it to go away completely for good. Sigh. I also saw a different doctor last week at Dr. Drake’s S...

Yesterday was Easter. And I started the day by writing in my prayer journal a thank you to Jesus for his death and resurrection to save me. And then I had a check in my spirit . . . and I added, “To save us .” I’ve been reading this book: Generations by Jean M. Twenge. It’s 500+ pages of the most fascinating data I’ve read in years. All this information about generations in America: Gen Z, Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents. All backed by tons of research, and all presented in a very engaging manner. (And no, I’m not getting any financial compensation for promoting the book, but you should still read it.)  But one of the big picture trends it talks about is how America has become more and more individualistic. Twenge says, “American culture began the 1960s as a collectivistic culture (focused on social rules and group harmony) and ended it as an individualistic one (focused on the needs of the self and thus often rejecting traditional rules). Each subsequent decade c...

Between travels and my busy schedule recently, I haven’t been able to get to the gym for my exercise classes. So, this weekend, I made a point of forcing myself out of the house a couple times a day to walk the wooded paths nearby – I need the exercise, the fresh air, the vitamin D, and the break from my computer screen. And as I hiked, I was inspired again by the trees. I’ve written about the trees on these trails, I’m sure. They are SO lovely. I suspect if you flew in a helicopter above this area, you would see a sea of green – healthy, leafy branches reaching to the sun for nourishment. But the view from below is quite different. From below, you have to strain a bit to see the green growth at the top. What you are surrounded by from below are the old dead branches. See the picture here? Imagine trees growing to two or three times this size and surrounding you as you walk. They are beautiful and cozy . . . and thought-provoking. Y’all, these trees. They are us . We all have...

I had the most disturbing dream last week. I was stopping for something at my theater (although the building wasn’t really my theater, even though in my dream it was supposed to be my theater – you know how that is), and there was a gang of thuggish-looking punks hanging out on the front lawn. They seemed to be ignoring me, so I went in and out a few times doing whatever it was I needed to do. But on my final trip outside, I saw that the gang was gone – as was my car with my purse and phone inside. I can’t find a word strong enough to describe my feelings in that moment. That may seem silly; it was just a dream. But oh, people . . .  The panic – the complete, utter panic . I couldn’t call anyone for help; I didn’t have my phone. And even if I went to a business and borrowed a phone, I couldn’t remember anyone’s number – they are all saved on my phone. I couldn’t get home; I didn’t have a car, I didn’t have a phone to call a friend or an Uber, and I had no credit card to pay ...

I just heard a story about Einstein. Apparently, when he was walking home from work, he would so often get completely lost in thought and walk by his house altogether that his wife started standing outside to watch for him. In fact, one time, the police had to bring him home. I find this SO comforting. Because the man was a genius, y’all. He changed the world. And he still did silly things like that. It is the grace of God that I get from one place to another in my car every day without incident. It’s become a conditioned response, I believe: like Pavlov’s dog salivating at the ringing of a bell, when I get in the seat of my car and turn the key, my brain automatically begins to travel to distant lands. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I’m mostly thinking about what I need to do today . . . and who I need to talk to . . . and plotting out those conversations . . . and remembering other things to mention when I talk to them . . . like the season finale of Severance last...

I’m not always sure what to do with the apostle Paul. The man had some chutzpah. Example? Acts 16, which I was listening to the other evening. After he and Silas sang in prison all night and then were told they could leave, he got a bit uppity. “They beat us publicly without a trial, even though we are Roman citizens, and threw us into prison. And now do they want to get rid of us quietly? No! Let them come themselves and escort us out .” Well , then. It reminded me of when he was annoyed at people in the Galatian church wrongly insisting that gentile converts needed to be circumcised. “As for those agitators, I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves!” I mean, dude . . . After reading the scripture lesson in Sunday School yesterday morning (the end of Philippians 3), our teachers paused to ask if we had any initial reaction to the passage. And my reaction? Paul sounds arrogant. Maybe the original tone and intent doesn’t come across well in our translations, bu...

Thursday morning was foggy here in my neighborhood. Seriously foggy. Very possibly the foggiest weather I’ve ever experienced. When I pulled out of my garage at 7am for the 25-minute drive to school, I could hardly see my garage door closing from the end of the driveway. It was kinda scary, frankly. I drove slowly and carefully through my neighborhood and along the side roads I use to avoid the 1604/I-10 interchange that is crazy busy at that time of the morning. And then suddenly, just as I pulled up to a red light before driving under I-10 . . . there was no fog. None. It was just GONE. I could see the stoplight, the cloudy sky above me, and the shopping center on the other side of the highway in front of me. It was a bit of a jolt to suddenly have the world visible around me again. I turned and pulled onto I-10 going north, still in wonder at it all. Along the way to Boerne, a few small patches of fog flew in and out. I continued to drive cautiously, as did everyone around me,...