In Gennesaret

I just finished watching a series called Inventing Anna . Who’s heard of that one? Fascinating story – based on the real-life drama of a young woman who convinced people she was a German heiress and conned friends and banks and such out of thousands and thousands of dollars. This woman was staying in the most expensive hotels . . . eating at the best restaurants . . . wearing top quality designer clothes . . . attending the most exclusive of social events . . . traveling all around the world, flying first class. And somehow managed to do it all without paying for any of it. The lifestyle she was living was absolutely crazy. And even crazier, I realized as I watched that I didn’t find it appealing in the least. I mean, NOT AT ALL. I’ve thought the same thing watching some episodes of Rich Kids Go Skint , a British reality show where spoiled young adults raised in ridiculous wealth spend a weekend with a family “living on the breadline.” They start each episode giving you a taste...

Many, many years ago, I had an online conversation about abortion with an old high school friend. She had worked with George Tiller, a well-known abortion doctor in our hometown who was murdered by an anti-abortion extremist, so this was a subject of passion for her. To her credit, she initiated the exchange; she’d seen posts I’d made about my pro-life beliefs, believed I was honest and thoughtful about those beliefs (which I took as a great compliment), and wanted a genuine discussion with “the other side”. It was a fascinating conversation . . . mainly because of how much we found we agreed on. Yes, folks – when it came right down to it, we agreed on so much! We pondered together why each of our respective camps in this debate ended up so far in the extreme. She blamed it on that fear that giving an inch would sacrifice a mile. For example, even though she (and many of her colleagues) might personally have been okay with abortions only being allowed very early in a pregnancy, they...

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...