I sit by the lake and cast stones like we’re casting cares.  I try to conjure up a few long-ago memorized Bible verses for overthinking because I need an anchor on this clear blue afternoon. In vivid detail, I remember a day when I sat by this lake four short months ago. The shoreline was clothed in unrecognizable white, and there was no definitive border between the place where the land ended and the water began. Men sat bundled in blue and brown shanties across the white expanse.  They entertained themselves by jigging child-sized fishing poles and hoping for sunken bobbers.  Coleman lanterns warmed chilled hands, and their voices echoed…