There is an experience that Jack had about 50 years ago that applies to life these days. He was locked up in a small prison for six months, in Southern Spain. He ran away from someone trying to kill him and the company he worked for decided Jack was the bad guy. Military stuff. Top Secret. It turned out Ok, and Jack was exonerated of all Charges. By then, it was too late to go back to work with the military. It felt good however to be pardoned for trying to save his life. Security clearance gone though.
Jack began realizing that the whole world is in a prison camp, a camp that can be fairly comfortable for some. Other camps are miserable. All of them have the same set of rules however. Be ‘nice’ and don’t make waves. The fairly ‘well off ‘ hard working family doesn’t know they are in jail although at times it feels that way.
One day, one week, one year after another with no chance of escape. Work hard and provide for your family and suddenly, something happens that opens our eyes to the razor wire and gates. A nice place in the ‘burbs’ with a two car garage, dog house and a basement seems safe enough. Often however, Tragedy, loss of life perhaps, foreclosure or lingering illness’. No rhyme or reason, just the luck of the draw, bad luck, payback for sin or just the way the world is. Why? What is the purpose of life if all there is to it is pain in the end? “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die” Epicurus 341 BC
On the way to the ‘hill’ in St. Croix, Jack was overcome by grief. He was at a funeral years ago for a young man that lived nearby. Jack can still see into that coffin with the beautiful face, closed eyes and the soft silk under his head. They wheeled him down the aisle to the hearse and Jack reached out from the pew and lightly touched that smooth shaped edge as it passed. The tears still come forth years later at the loss. The senseless loss. The thought of bearing this as if it was Jack’s son brought another flood. What kind of world is this?
The Christmas brag letter, sometimes with a few photos too. “Here we all are and boy, is it swell down here!” A beautiful home and several brand new vehicles in the pics. Laughing and smiling while on the ride of their life. Literally. We all do it. We think we have finally arrived at the ideal life style. Well, some of us do. “There’s got to be someway out of this, says the joker to the thief” 1. Late at night we all dream. It’s healthy to do so. Rem sleep. Gator remembers some of the dreams. Suspense, being lost is a common theme. Is the cure for our Prison life possible? Is it really a lifetime that promises to be carefree and success that promises to make me happy? Or a platform where everybody knows my name. 2.
There is a permanent prison break and Jack won’t stop seeking it, it’s the one thing that our hearts won’t stop yearning for. Jack finally has been shown the love that is better than the world he lives in. A lifetime promise that our prison sentence will end with our death but then a trial with a public defender that never looses ( if we want him to represent us.) We can be our own lawyer but that is a really bad idea. Our chosen lawyer tells the judge that we love Him and want Him to be with us after we get out of prison. His father, the judge, always accepts that declaration. Our own defense, when we indeed defend ourselves is that we are ‘not so bad’ does not go over too well. Back to prison for a ‘life’ sentence. Forever.
Advice: Have a sit down with Jesus. He is Your confidant and intercessor. Open your heart to him. He will indeed set you free. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator
1. Jimmy Hendrix 2. Jon Thurlow
2 thoughts on “Prison Camps in Plain View”
One thing i keep thinking when I read your articles is that I want more details. You pack in a ton in a few paragraphs. It feels a bit rushed.
Even a few non sequitur conversational bits.
Had an image in my head when I read it:
Life hits you in the face as if you should know the answer.
The interrogator demands an answer.
We wish we could just hide in prison.
But being alone in our cell we somehow hope if we just break, the interrogator might give us a reason for all the trouble and suffering.
But there is a sweeter surrender than to the lash of rights vs wrongs, in context or blurred beyond.
Jesus isn’t waiting for us to break. We are already broken. We are hurting ourselves as if we could hold out.
But eternity is before us and that is a bridge we cannot cross.
Surrender, dear soul, sweetly. Not because your fingernails bleed and your will to hang on is gone. Living for your self are the screws that you tighten upon yourself. Despair and die seems the only call.
Die to self and live. I cannot completely fathom this wonder however many times I try.
On Tue, Dec 14, 2021, 5:25 PM Jack gators grace notes wrote:
> norman eric peterson posted: ” There is an experience that Jack had about > 50 years ago that applies to life these days. He was locked up in a small > prison for six months, in Southern Spain. He ran away from someone trying > to kill him and the company he worked for decided Jack was ” >
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yes, I agree that more detailing and ‘fleshing out’ would be agreeable. However, I am limited to 6-800 words by Gary and I have to pack it in and leave the rest to scholars and authors to fill in the rest. I really enjoy the feedback and questions too! Jack