Remembering Uncle Glenn

 Nineteen days ago, I flew westward out of St. Louis into the heart of the Mountain Time Zone. I was headed to Denver before catching a connecting flight to Colorado Springs, where I would be ordained as a deacon that evening at Holy Trinity Church, a culmination of sorts for my holy orders within the Anglican Church in North America. But the service wasn't on my mind as we began our descent into Denver, with the Rocky Mountains arrayed over the landscape. My thoughts were drawn to the plight of my uncle Glenn Davis. Ninety years old, he was dealing with a COVID-19 diagnosis and was in some rehab before he could return to his senior living quarters near Littleton. When I walked through the airport, I regretted that I had just a little over an hour before my flight to Colorado Springs. It would have been nice to visit Uncle Glenn, but even if I had the time, COVID restrictions meant I'd get nowhere close to a face-to-face meeting. It was not to be.

After that evening, I went back to St. Louis, with stole and ordination certificated in hand. After a few days, my dad informed my brothers and me that Glenn had contracted pneumonia on top of his COVID. It was hospice time and Glenn wasn't expected to linger much beyond a few days. He was content to let matters go and face the end.

An end, as it turned out, that was sooner than later. I got back from church last Sunday, after my first diaconal duties in Holy Communion to an email from Dad. Uncle Glenn had died quietly at 2:30 that morning. 

Occasionally, sad news hits you like an unexpected gut punch beyond what you envisioned. Geographically, our family was not close to Uncle Glenn and Aunt Clarice, and my father (being the unplanned caboose of a litter of five boys) was fourteen years Glenn's junior. But many grand memories of Uncle Glenn have caused any of those distances to vaporize. He was a wonderful uncle whom I grew to prize over the years.

Once, when we stopped by his place in suburban Kansas City in 1985, he took my brothers and me over to his country club so we could go swimming, and--in a magnificent expression of generosity--Uncle Glenn said, "Now, boys, if you get hungry, the concession stand is over there. Don't pay a dime...just mention my name and they'll put it on my tab."

My uncle had a tab. To a lad just shy of fifteen years old, that was amazing news. And dangerous, given my appetite. Remarkably, we restrained ourselves with only an Eskimo Pie apiece.

Glenn could wax eloquently about anything, I found. Even at a wake. No kidding. In the summer of 1986, Grandpa Davis died and we all gathered together in Sandy Lake, Pennsylvania. Glenn gave me an enthusiastic hello in the funeral home--all "hellos" were enthusiastic with Glenn--and then asked me how things had gone with football the past year. I talked about playing offensive line and the differences in blocking schemes between guards and tackles. And Glenn--almost as if he was hoping to discuss X's and O's--launched into a fabulous monologue regarding how to block on traps, counters, and the like. He even talked about what to look out for with a four-man front, five-man, or the wide-tackle-6. And we were at his father's and my grandfather's visitation, and he was acting as if we were in a locker room at halftime. It was incredible.

Even more insane was how Glenn was the ringleader after the funeral dinner when we were back at Grandma's house. My dad and all the uncles, and their families, crashed in the living rooms, and I swear Glenn and the others told so many yarns and gut-busting stories the place roared with laughter like it was a comedy club, with no story being taboo, Glenn laughing the loudest. Poor Grandma put her hand to her head and pleaded, "Can't you boys think of something pleasant to talk about?" And Glenn would launch into the next, "D'ya remember when...?" moment.

I'm sure he'd given Grandma many anxious moments. In a family storybook, Glenn gave a tribute to Grandma, saying that she had been unable to come to many of his high school events when he was younger, but "she made a special point to attend my final football game of my senior year." Then, in deadpan form, he wrote, "I was kicked out of the game for fighting."

Glenn the generous. He got us tickets for a Royals baseball game when we went through town in 1989, making sure we took his parking pass along. The Royals, as they have in all seven games where I've seen them in person, won the game that night as Uncle Glenn made a memory.

But perhaps the three memories I know of happen to be more of the lump-in-the-throat variety. After they moved out to Estes Park, Colorado, and as age took a toll, Aunt Clarice's mind slipped as her dementia rose. Taking care of the house while shepherding Clarice's needs proved very taxing for Glenn, but he soldiered on with determination. Dad recalls that Glenn was asked why he didn't just put Clarice in a nursing home, and Glenn point-blank said, "Well, I signed up for this." Uncle Glenn kept his vows stubbornly, in an age when so many marriages shipwreck over so much less.

Ultimately, he and Clarice had to enter nursing care after a while. Clarice continued to slip while Glenn visited her on her wing of the facility with the devotion of a young lover. One day, Glenn arrived in her room as Clarice was taking a nap, and he lay down and snuggled up next to his bride. Maybe he figured he didn't know how many chances he'd have to do that anymore. As it turns out, he was right to do so. In a moment reminiscent of any Nicholas Sparks scene, Clarice died as Glenn dozed with her. He signed up for it, and was with her to the end.

One final memory came after I published my first novel, Litany of Secrets. Inspired by P.D. James, I set the tale of murders at a seminary with a wheelchair-bound detective named Cameron Ballack in hot pursuit of justice. A number of people wrote reviews on Amazon, and I will always be grateful for their kind words. But the greatest verbal treasure I got regarding my authorial debut was from Uncle Glenn himself. Dad had sent him a copy of Litany of Secrets as the story took place in the St. Louis region and Glenn and Clarice had lived in St. Louis before their Kansas City days. He sent me a hand-written letter, saying how thankful he was to have gotten a copy, that he had really enjoyed the story, and how wonderful it was to be able to read a novel and be familiar with the places it describes.

I still have that letter.

Yes, I'd rather Uncle Glenn still be alive. But a ninety-year life lived well is something to be proud of. And looking back on the memories he created is something I can always enjoy. 

Miss you, Uncle Glenn, and thank you for everything.

A Thought for Ascension Day

More recently I posted about Holy Saturday. Now that we come to Ascension Day, we need a reminder of everything that plays into Jesus' kingly rule.

For that, the words of Kenneth Tanner, pastor of Holy Redeemer Church in Rochester Hills, Michigan, are especially helpful and timely. Kenneth graciously allowed me to take these words of his Facebook post this morning and re-post them here. He also served on staff of Touchstone magazine, so he is quite the wordsmith. I hope you will be blessed by his words as I was.

"For Ascension:

Against our attempts to make the resurrection a ghost party, like a wisp of fog on hot tea, Jesus appears among us forever with 'real wounds', shows us that resurrection is a matter of flesh and bones, of broiled fish and honeycomb. Christ reveals that his resurrection (and ours) is culinary and involves eating.

His wounded body, a body that yet eats, a body of flesh and bones--flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone--ascends to what it means to be God in eternity, forever taking with his embodied self all the good and hard memories of what it means to be human.

He remembers comfort from the injuries of childhood in the arms of his mother, the ecstatic gladness of meals with friends, the anxiety of facing torture, that odd mixture of cold and thirst in the desert night, and intense heartache at the tomb of his friend. All of this ascends with Christ.

We worship a God who remembers what it is like to die a human death, whose wounded and resurrected body is the antidote to death. As the human who exists beyond the touch of death, this one who remembers all our faces can keep his promises--promises he makes as the new human and as God.

And it is this wounded God with human memories whose rule of resurrection overcomes death, whose rule of forgiveness overcomes sin, whose rule of welcome overcomes estrangement. Now and forever no other human except Jesus Christ governs this wide globe, no matter how certain their control may seem.

Jesus Christ is (in all these ways and countless others) Lord."

The Forgotten Day

We know what it's like to forget something. Car keys, books, wallets, purses. Now with the COVID-19 pandemic, schools in America are looking at forgetting of another kind...forgetting about coming back to school. No senior celebration dinner, no prom for my twelfth-grade daughter. In short, 2020 is turning into a year we'd like to forget.

There are days on the calendar that we happen to forget. As watchful as we in the Christian year tradition might be, Easter weekend falls into that category. Although church services must necessarily worship in online fashion, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday gatherings still occur in cyberspace. But there is one day that tends to fall by the wayside.

Today. Holy Saturday.

It's somewhat understandable because, outside of a lot of disciple-and-other-Christ-follower mourning, nothing much significantly happened on the first Holy Saturday. It remains as the trudging bridge between Christ's crucifixion and resurrection. How do you, one might ask, pull together worship resources to dwell on Jesus lying in the tomb?

It looks like nothing much is going on. And that is exactly the point. That's what it looks like from a close angle. But widen the redemptive lens, and we might see a whole lot more, if we stick with the John 19 passage about Jesus' burial.

Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus have gone public with their allegiance to Christ by preparing him for the burial, with loads of spices and all. And that's where we get the most amazing news!

John 19:41-42 says "Now in the place where he was crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had been laid. So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there."

There. In the tomb. In the garden. In a garden!

Why so special, you ask? Isn't Jesus still dead?

Yes, but that's one frame on the continuing film of God's story of redemption. There's so much more. This fits with everything else.

Genesis 2: God initiates creation with a garden.

Genesis 3: The fall into sin occurs in the same garden, and then God--unwilling to give up on humanity--makes the covenant of grace in that same garden.

John 19: Jesus' purchases redemption on a cross in a garden, is buried in that garden, and breaks sin's power with his resurrection in the same garden.

Revelation 22: End of human history. Standing in the New Jerusalem of the new heavens and new earth is the tree of life, in a garden of other trees, where all is restored.

God, it seems, loves gardens. They are arenas for his grace and mercy.

Jesus is buried in a garden? That is no defeat, but rather the next chapter in a glorious story entitled Creation, Fall, Redemption, Restoration.

God has not let go of us. That is the message of Holy Saturday.

May we never forget.

Double-Edged Sword

I've been sorting through a bit of varied reading lately. One book is a biography of former president Millard Fillmore from the American Presidents Series. Then there is Faceless Killers, the first in the Wallander series by Henning Mankell. And then, there's a brief volume I got in the mail last week: Sam Allberry's Why Does God Care Who I Sleep With?. And that book, in a more direct way, brought about this post.

Allberry tackles the question of sex and the Christian parameters of sexual activity in...hold on to your hats...somewhere in the neighborhood of 130-140 pages. That's all. You'd think that would leave a lot uncovered, and I suppose some people end the book with unanswered questions, but in truth, Allberry's work is meaty and concise. Economy of style and weightiness of insight can and do exist side by side. He is simple without being simplistic.

And to find out more, you'll have to read Sam Allberry's book for yourself. I'm really wanting to segue to my own writing experience.

When I pitched the idea of an ethics book to Christian Focus Publications, I didn't want them to see it as an exhaustive slaloming through the powdery snowdrifts of moral theology. I mean, there's a place for that, but it was beyond my desire. As Tough Issues, True Hope: A Concise Journey Through Christian Ethics took hold in my mind and took shape on my laptop, I wanted it to have a clear focus, conversational delivery, and--to really stand out--a concise approach. Yes, I believed so much in the latter idea that it became part of the subtitle.

I admit that was a conspiracy on my part. Each chapter is short. The smallest one (outside of the preface and epilogue) is six pages long and the longest is about 11-12 pages. The whole book comes to a mere 240 pages. That in and of itself could be risky. Some readers might be expecting a mine of detail and could be disappointed. I even say in the preface that such folks "could wonder why I don't turn over every rock for discussion." But in truth, I never see myself or my ideas as the final word on any moral topic. So, I tell readers "I want to take you a certain distance and then trust you to do more consideration, more research, more though, more collaboration and discussion with others. Test what you read here and shake it out. I'm trying to get you started on that journey."

I really think that part of being a fiction writer helped here. I'm a believer in the mantra "Show, don't tell". Readers want their authors to show them the story and let them bring their own color and enjoyment to it. That's why I like to use dialogue and incidental events to build characters rather than tell people what they are like.

What this comes down to--this desire to be concise as I dabble in this attempt at nonfiction--is a matter of trust. I think this is what motivates Sam Allberry and others who publish concise yet robust volumes. We trust the reader to take the baton, to receive and chew on what we share, and then go further with questions and soul pursuit. Authors constantly fight against the temptation to say more than we need to; what can be refreshing is the humility to say we don't have to say everything. We can trust our readers to munch on the picnic we set before them and digest it in ways that will feed them in the most nourishing manner.

The Trinity of Inquiry

I remember going to a hockey game in St. Louis back on March 22, 1994, at the old Arena on Oakland Avenue. Partly because of my devotion to the visiting Philadelphia Flyers and partly out of feisty desire to rile others around me, I wore my orange Flyers jersey and hoped my boys would break their four-game winless streak. 

I didn't need to wait long for the Flyers to take control on their way to a 6-3 win. A dish of the puck from Mark Recchi and Brent Fedyk fed Rob DiMaio for his ninth goal of the year two minutes after the opening face-off. With animal exultation, I leaped from my seat, pumped my fist into the air, and screamed "YES!"

Needless to say, Blues fans around me weren't pleased. In fact, their responses are unprintable for this blog. The truth was, by my clothing and my actions, I stood out in marked contrast to those around me.

It's one thing to do that at an NHL game. You can do that or not, and the world will go on. But when you write a book in a subject area where there are scores of volumes covering like material, you need to stand out. How was I going to do that when I wrote my book on Christian ethics?

It's not necessarily because of what you write. I've previously mentioned the various topics in the book, which you can glance at here. But as I read other tomes on moral living, I began to notice a trend. Some authors do a great job of describing--in great depth--what the issue is. Pages and pages have been written on racism, abortion, murder, homosexuality, and other matters. Some authors write with a clear agenda to convince you that "X" is what you should believe about a moral issue, and at the very least you should embrace why it is so critical.

In other words, some authors declare, "This is what it's all about!"

Other writers declare, "This is why it matters!"

In the process of reviewing all these varied takes on ethics, I noticed two things: (1) It was hard to find someone who gave equal shrift to explaining an issue and demonstrating why people should care, and (2) hardly anyone spilled ink on practical applications for how to put moral understanding into everyday action.

I often come back to a definition of faith coined by Brian McLaren. There's probably more of what McLaren says that I'd distance myself from than what I'd embrace, but he's spot-on with his definition here (keep in mind he's talking about faith in general and not Christian faith, though the latter is a more specified subset of the other). McLaren says that, "Faith is a state of relative certainty about matters of ultimate concern sufficient to promote action."

I remembered that saying and thought, "Bam! There's my approach."

We have to know what are the components of a moral issue ("state of relative certainty"). But if we leave it there, then we just have factual data with no gas in the tank. What have to answer the question, "So what?", so that people can sense why this is so critical, so they can have buy-in ("about matters of ultimate concern"). But if we leave it here, we stop at passionate sentimentality. Our beliefs need to have legs; they must be "sufficient to promote action". Therefore, we are driving toward thinking "Now what?" What are some practical ways we can apply this and be involved if this is true and this matters? We have to believe, then believe in, and then be living it out.

To that end, all chapters except one will be structured around this what-so what-now what format. I am convinced that consideration of Christian ethics means a commitment that what makes sense in our head must move our souls and find expression with our hands and feet. It's an approach that I believe will truly stand apart from others. And I am ever grateful that my publishers, Christian Focus Publications, believes in taking a chance on someone who believes in this approach.

[Next post: "Double-Edged Sword"...Why a concise volume can gladden and frustrate your readers.]

On the Target Somewhere

Perhaps the toughest challenge in writing a book on Christian ethics, like my forthcoming Tough Issues, True Hope: A Concise Journey Through Christian Ethics, is deciding on your topics without having the list become too long and overbearing. Some are obvious candidates, as I discussed in my last post. But there are also those that land on the target, whether they seem like logical candidates or for reasons that become apparent once you scratch below the surface.

1. Free speech: The polar swing, according to commentator Dave Rubin, is that we are no longer living in a political left vs. political right world, but we are living in a clash between those who do not believe in freedom of speech and those who do. Given there will be fallout in that clash, how does a Christian navigate his or her choices in what is said?

2. Murder & capital punishment: This was so close to making it on the slam-dunk list from last time. Any discussion on the value of human life must consider what accountability is in place when innocent life is strategically snuffed out in cold blood. Here, I present both sides of the death penalty debate in what I hope is a fair assessment before letting the reader draw his own conclusions.

3. Abortion: In a sense, this can be a subset of the free speech debate...Can people discuss this matter openly in a way that creates more light than heat, and will others listen? Abortion can ignite deeply held beliefs, but beyond that, there are fundamental issues of the value of life that come out of this. And this is the first place in the book where I demonstrate one can "take God out of the equation" and still make a secular argument that lands in the same place the Bible would.

4. Despair and suicide: The rise of depression, anxiety, and soul pain are not going away. Yes, we talk about these matters, but more importantly, this chapter will position people to come alongside others in crisis as well as speak to those in the throes of discouragement and despair.

5. Disabilities and dignity: Why is there a chapter on this, you ask? Simply because the way we treat those who are disabled is a moral issue. It reveals what we believe about human life and about the Creator. I really don't want to spoil the rest of the chapter, except for the fact that--as the father of a living disabled son and the bereaved father of one who has passed away--this chapter was abjectly personal. Not to mention that when I read three highly respected books on Christian ethics, the amount of pages covering disabled people came to under two. Total. In all three books. View this chapter as a corrective.

6. Treating women well, marriage, cohabitation, and divorce: How we view human community is at the heart of these issues (which spread across three different chapters). Can we make the case for a distinctly Christian ethic in these areas and demonstrate that it is one that reflects the best for human endeavor even if one doesn't believe in God or view the Bible as authoritative?

7. Pornography: The good news is that teen pregnancy and all abortion stats are trending downward. There may be a sad reason why: That more people seek satisfaction in porn addiction rather than human relationships. And the word addiction is intentional there. We'll see that what porn does to the brain is scary stuff.

8. Personal stewardship: Why is it a moral issue to care for our health, our wealth, our productivity, and our sleep habits? Yes, you probably weren't expecting that in an ethics book. But there it is. The Bible informs our common sense greatly on this one.

9. Business ethics/Workforce stewardship: Because God created us for a rhythm of worship and work. Our labor is holy and good. We created value. We connect value. We capture value. 

10. Immigration: Yes, a moral issue. The Bible has a surprisingly solid amount to say about migration of peoples. Here is no "open borders" mantra, nor is there a command to "build the wall!", but rather we need to see the value God places upon others and how his world is designed for foot traffic from the beginning.

All this, in addition to the previous post's gleanings, are coming May 8th. 

[Next post: The structure of Tough Issues, True Hope, a.k.a. "Why the What-So What-Now What alignment?"]

The Obvious Candidates

One question people often ask me is, "What's the best thing about teaching Ethics?" I don't know if this is the best thing, but one of the better items about teaching Ethics in school is that you always have material. Society, it seems, is constantly writing and re-writing your curriculum.

That can make things a little dicey when you are writing a book on Christian ethics, a project that is vastly different from classroom instruction, though I am sure there is a Venn diagram somewhere demonstrating where the overlap is. I wouldn't have been able to write a book on Christian ethics if I couldn't settle on a series of contents, but some of these issues are among the more obvious candidates for inclusion.

Some are logical inserts because of the pressing discussions of the age. The third chapter on "Diversity and Unity" tackles the matter of bigotry and racism, which can rear their ugly heads in individual and systemic fashion. Also, chapters on "Homosexuality and Same-Sex Marriage" and "Transgenderism and Sexual Identities" meet the conversation that has unearthed itself in recent years, attempting to bring more light than heat to what can often degenerate into a cacophany of dismissiveness.

Some chapters are must-haves because we swim in the waters of their existence. The second chapter of the book has to do with "Technology, Social Networks, and Faithful Living". Our default mode is life in a hyper-cyber globally connected world. Our proactive approach to living in that world matters greatly, for while the tools may be neutral or helpful, our use of them can be marred by rebellion. Also, the advances of medicine make a chapter on "Bioethics" necessary (though at many times I felt I was out of my depth there!), and because we live in a world of stunning beauty and life-giving force, how we steward that creation is of utmost importance. Hence, a chapter on "Environmental Stewardship". And some of the conclusions reached might surprise you!

More to come, but that's a look at some of the details you will find when Christian Focus Publications releases Tough Issues, True Hope: A Concise Journey Through Christian Ethics on May 8th. This is the result of many years of thought and labor and I can't wait to share it with you.

[Next post: "On the Target Somewhere", about expected topics but maybe not as burning as these today]

New Room Around the Table

One can make all sorts of analogies with which to compare the craft of writing, but there's one analogy I know doesn't fit.

Writing, for me at least, is nothing like a pipe. As a former pipe smoker, I know the proper way to keep a pipe proper is (1) to clean it after usage but also to (2) use only one type of tobacco for each pipe. The bowl of the pipe gets used to that tobacco, which creates a "cake" or character to the pipe itself. Some writers get into the "cake" of a pipe and stick with one basic genre or shade of writing. Early on, I was sure I'd be writing nothing but murder mysteries for as long as I could keep Cameron Ballack's wheelchair wiles going. Then, I branched into creative re-telling of the major epochs of the Christian faith, as the Merivalkan Chronicles were born. But never, never did I imagine my latest venture would bear fruit.

Non-fiction. Yeah, I know. What was I thinking?

I compare writing non-fiction to running a 10K race in three feet of cooked oatmeal, to being dropped into Tokyo with neither city map at my disposal nor any working knowledge of Japanese, or to driving in the Indianapolis 500 with the parking brake fully engaged.

So, what caused me to take a shot?

Simply put, I teach ethics at Westminster Christian Academy in St. Louis, and over the past ten years, I became painfully aware of something. Any text we used for class tended to be over the heads of garden-variety high school sophomores and juniors. Anything that went into detailed depth made the waters more murky. I looked around for books that weren't simplistically juvenile, nor would they be too dense.

Nothing I could find, so I was griping about that one day to my wife when Christi said something along the lines of "You know, you've taught Ethics long enough...if you want something done right, you could write your own book."

I thought she was joking. Or daring me to go into the writer's equivalent of The Princess Bride's Pit of Despair. But she was serious and believed I could do it. I didn't. Crazy me, I went ahead.

I didn't want this to be a standard ethics text. I wanted it to be accessible for high school students, serious collegians, and adults who might use it in adult Bible study or Sunday school classes. I didn't want to get mired in the proverbial Slough of Despond. I wanted the book to be clear so that it made sense. I wanted it to be conversational so it wouldn't be so bookish and would engender further conversation. And I wanted it to be concise; I wanted to take the reader through short chapters, a portion of the way through major issues, but then trust them to study on their own further. The more I thought, the more I believed this could work.

You can do all that but still fail in the quest to get it into print. Thankfully, I connected with Christian Focus Publications in the Highlands of Scotland, a group that has done sterling work on my dad's literary output of Biblical commentaries. From start to finish, Christian Focus has been a top-shelf, A-plus organization with which to work (and the fact that my fiction publisher stateside is a Scot is not lost on me!) and the whole process has gone swimmingly.

So swimmingly, in fact, that on May 8th, my new book Tough Issues, True Hope: A Concise Journey Through Christian Ethics will be released via Christian Focus. In 240 pages, I dive into 20 different ethical issues that hit the core of what it means to live in God's world. Over the next few weeks, I'll talk about why I chose the topics I did, but for now, a bit of overall vision should suffice.

Aside from its accessibility, what else sets this book apart from other ethical explorations? Yes, it presents moral living from the standpoint of the Bible, but my point is not to bludgeon people with a Scriptural sledgehammer. It is not only a new book about ethics but a new way of entertaining the Biblical view of how to live. Common sense thinking and logic will buttress, not deny, Scriptural insight, so I happen to use story, thoughtful questions, and logical proddings that ask "What if God is taken out of the equation? Then what? Do we still end up where the Bible directs?" And we find the answer is yes. I'd like to think that's a fresh way of doing moral theology.

That approach resonates with people, one of whom was among those who endorsed my book. Tony Giles, friend and mentor, had this to say: "Peppered with anecdotes and soaked in Scripture, the reader learns to think carefully and live wisely. And all along the way, [Davis] makes room around the table for those who may not accept the Bible as authoritative."

Those words are so gratifying and humbling. Personal story, Scriptural reliance, careful inquiry, wise living. And something that I would hope followers of Jesus would model more and more: creating that room around the table for skeptics and seekers who may not "be there" just yet.

There is new room around the table, and it releases in thirteen weeks. More to come in future posts, but if you want to pre-order now (either at the Amazon hyperlink above or directly from Christian Focus)...I mean, I wouldn't dare stop you!

Next post: The obvious candidates [Moral issues that were a slam-dunk for inclusion].

Some Recent Discoveries

It has been awhile. Like since June. But with several key projects seen through to completion (including one that I plan on telling everyone about in a few weeks), I finally have room to blog-breathe. 

I've had time to reflect on a few things that I've found to be true, so this post is dedicated to some short observations in that vein.

1. As you age, recovery from stupidity gets more arduous. November seems to the month when something bad happens to me. In 2016, I had to get my gall bladder taken out, which wasn't as difficult as the pain in the run-up to surgery. In 2017, it was the November of the torn meniscus, which should have been a beacon that I needed to find a more low-impact form of exercise than running. And in November 2019, it was the story of stupid me. Which rhymes with "knee". On November 8th, I had to get my son Joshua off the toilet and into his wheelchair. Now we have a lift system with a sling that does the work for us, but I had left it in his bedroom and thought, "Man, I really don't want to walk across the house to get it," so I tried lifting him off by myself and pivot him into the chair. The pivot did it. I turned my right knee while bearing Joshua's weight and felt a nasty pop. Fractured kneecap, and I had to submit to an orthopedist's oversight, draining the knee, and having to wear a brace until the fracture healed completely at the end of the year.

2. A new diet can bear dividends, especially if you discipline with portion control and find food that pops for you. On that note, let me assure you: Avocado egg salad is awesome! Of this, there is no doubt. And having a healthy stream of oranges, minneolas, and cheese is helping.

3. Never underestimate the power of a good coloring book. I snagged one of those 'mindfulness' color-by-number coloring books for adults at Half Price Books the day after Christmas, and whenever I sit down and work through a page, my inner spirit goes from distracted to chill in a matter of moments.

4. It's emotionally and mentally healthy to read and read often, but it can be helpful, too, to re-read something you worked through before. I'm presently reading George Jonas' Vengeance for the fourth time, and I always read it with new eyes. Seeing the deep, brooding effect that Israeli counter-terror teams experienced when they carried out their missions in response to the Munich Olympic massacre is profoundly and psychologically sobering. It makes me want to watch the film Munich, in which Steven Spielberg drew much from Jonas' book, again.

5. It's fun to pass on to others what you enjoy. Our family love watching the cozy detective series Shakespeare and Hathaway: Private Investigators on Britbox. The interplay and teamwork between Jo Joyner and Mark Benton makes for a delightful storyline, and naming each episode using elements from the Bard is a nice touch. We enjoyed the first two seasons so much that we gave a DVD of season 1 to my parents, who are now finding much to love about what the Daily Mail calls a "lightweight murder mystery" that is "worth setting the recorder for."

Or in our case, getting Britbox. I could tell you more, but I'll save commentary about This Farming Life, Death in Paradise, Rev, Wallander, and others for later. As for me, it's good to be back in the blogosphere.