As we drove up north today, through the same roads we’ve driven many times, I was amazed at how everything seems the same.  The Sea of Galilee is still as breathtaking as ever.  Tiberius looks as decrepit as it did to Mark Twain.

Nothing much ever happens there, it seems, and not much changes.  

It was only when I talked with the disheartened people displaced from their home for so long and left without a purpose, a framework, a hope, that I saw the change.  And it was so sad I haven’t been able to get over it all day.