I am reading a required text that was written 50 years ago by a theologian. It has been reissued and updated several times over the decades. I must say he had quite the command of the English language.

And so I sit on the couch, covered with a fleece lap robe due to the temperatures that seep into the house. On top of the blanket I have two high-lighters and a pen. I hold the paperback edition of the tome in one hand and take notes with the other.

Beside me I have an 8-pound dictionary. I find myself looking up definitions once or twice or, with particularly difficult passages, thrice on one page. I jot the definitions in the margins. Most of the words I have heard, but some not. Some I have even used but never really understood, or knew, their meaning.

So now I do. And my head is spinning.

And that's what I think about that.