A sunny and cold February morning while the temps are single digits and the parlor stove at my back is going well. I am up early and typing to share these things with the world.
The stats in my dashboard tell me there are 12 countries or so that have read these short missives. I am satisfied. My coffee cup by my left hand and the keyboard in front of me.
It’s early and still dark and I have my headphones on and I am listening to singers from Kansas City praising the Lord . A Live broadcast.
“From the garden, to the desert, to the mountain, to the Heavens. It’s The story, the story of the Glory of God.” It brings me back to singing those spontaneous chorus’ as we worshiped at church’s all through the state. The Wellspring team.
There are times now when I can capture those precious moments that occur spontaneously where I now work in video production. Just a week ago I got a shot of a singer on stage right
“Ready 3, take 3” Simple com instruction and that shot, taken briefly makes it out to the broadcast that goes to the side screens, the lobby and perhaps the Web-stream to many around the world. It’s the best I can envision coupled with my tears at it’s beauty and perfection of worship at it’s best.
All of you have experienced these stunning events. Your eyes filled with sudden tears and briefly overcome with unexpected glimpses of beauty and eternity. Just for you, right then and right now.
I try to share them as best I can. A butterfly’s close kiss, the sunset or sunrise that takes your breath away. Too quickly to grab a camera and share it with loved ones.
Treasure that lingers, forever yours. A gift from our Lord. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator.
It started with a dream several nights ago. I had taken my robe off and slipped into bed, fully expecting a normal nights sleep after reading to Julie and our puppy which was lying on her side over my left leg. I was tucked in but that doesn’t matter to the young pooch. A little affection either calms her mania or gives her permission to start licking my face.
Eventually, the dog goes into her large crate next to Julie’ side as she is the alpha female here.
I slipped into rem sleep and had a dream unlike any I have had before. It was a reality submersion type. I was in the locker room where I swim twice a week. A public announcing system called my name several times. It announced there were two people waiting for me in the lobby. Harvey Stower and Charles Gendron.
Harvey had saved our farm from the counties attempt to take our land and home because we gave the county six thousand dollars from a bicycle rally we hosted in River Falls. We designated it for what was to be known as the Gandy Dancer trail for snowmobiles and we asked that bicyclists would have a smooth trail to ride on in the summer. The country was garnishing our land for failure to report income! Harvey, a state representative made it quickly ‘go away’ A devout man of faith and fair play Harvey died decades ago.
Charles Gendron was my old Navy buddy. On this web site is the story: The lost ring and the saved soul’ It is the story of our friendship and my part in his realizing Christ was his true best friend. I asked him to meet me when it was my turn to ‘cross the bar’ It was the last time I saw him at a hospice in Maryland.
Chuck died 20 years ago and appeared to me when he came into heaven at the moment of his death. “It’s better than you said! Were the five words he spoke to me as he walked away into eternity. A pretty good gift from Jesus as I was in a local church, sitting in the front pew. He had just died in Maryland at that moment. There was a message on our phone machine from Mary Lou in Maryland when we got home. “I wanted to tell you that Chuck died today” I called her back and told her I had seen him enter paradise this morning and it was very encouraging to her. Still is to both of us.
So the dream came into sharp focus as I sat on the bench in the locker room. I had never heard a PA system there in 30 years of swimming. The voice was of poor quality an I sat riveted on the bench with just my boots to put on before leaving the school. Could it be? Is it my time to indeed be escorted to eternity this morning? I just sat there, exited and fearful.
What is Julie going to do? I shared the dream with her from the night before and so I made sure the car keys were in my pocket so she could identify me at the school and drive our car home.
As I walked towards the lobby I also realized there was an ‘In service’ day going on and the school was very empty. Chuck and Harvey were not there. I was ready to go, at 82 I am in the range of expected expiration date. “Good till February 16th” Relieved and encouraged at the same time and tenaciously fearful on that plastic bench in my socks.
It was pretty good. I am still here. Never heard that speaker before and maybe will once more?
There is a value that was known to be true on an old guitar that I own. I figured it was worth at least what I paid for it, perhaps even more due to inflation. I bought it fresh out of the Navy after another one, just like it, was lost in shipping. It was being shipped to my duty station overseas, not too complicated. Most likely very tempting to someone in the Mediterranean post office I thought. As far as anyone knows, it was never found. Well, it was found by someone. Finders keepers.
After discharge, I went to Schmidt music in downtown Minneapolis where I had it shipped from and they offered a replacement! “I’ll take that one there on display” I have had it since 1967 and recently wondered what it was worth. I paid four hundred dollars for it. Now it is worth twenty thousand or more. Not for sale. It sounds quite nice and powerful. It’s a big Martin D-28, made of Brazilian Rosewood which wood is illegal to possess if you come back into customs. Playing it overseas might be a bit dicey.
So, a pleasant surprise for my insurance agent. I do not wish to sell it as it sounds perfect and it has a lot of history for me. Even down to the small ash burn on the face from decades ago. It needed now needed a little work, but the Martin company warranties it for life to the original owner. Nice feature. The bridge was warped and coming up and the pick guard was warping as well. Free fix. Labor and parts. New strings were needed after the repairs. Total bill was little over ten bucks.
Not long ago, another thing was always seen by me as almost worthless and recently I found it was worth more than I could even imagine. I then sold it to my new best friend and incredibly, He told me I may use it as long as I wished! Not only that, but He paid a price to me that was more than I can even bear to think about or understand fully.
My friend had been killed a while back and left this purchase as a memento to me to remind me of it’s worth. It is in writing and clear as the night sky on a moonlit and cloudless evening. Oh yes, my friend is still around. He was dead for three days and came back to life! Amazing, impossible, but true! A miracle. you may know whom I am writing about if you have had the guarantee offered to you. Take Him up on it, it’s never too late.
The ‘object’ discovered by me that suddenly was revealed to me as precious and warrantied forever. It’ s myself. The only stipulation to the warranty is that I am required to give myself to my friend, all of me even my thoughts and actions. All of them. Past and present. A lot of bad ones. Debts to my friends Father. My friend’s Dad has seen all of those things and His son Jesus, offers to pay if I ask Him to.
All of me given freely, and in a similar way my wonderful friend did the same thing before I met him. Impossible, and yet true. Hundreds of people saw that happen. He gave it all away. Just for me and you. My soul is a bit warped too and can be repaired as my builder gives a lifetime warranty It is written in a book that I read over and over to learn more about Jesus that did not have anything to be forgiven of by His Father. A perfect Son that offers His life for ours. Sort of a ransom type of thing.
In that book, the contract, the blood covenant to me is clearly revealed. What a warranty and testament! So I will see My friend again when I die and He brings me to live with Him, forever. It’s an incredible warranty! Perhaps you don’t know who He is. I will introduce you to Him if you wish. If you already know Him, I would really like to chat with you. If you don’t know Him, same offer. Always a choice of ours to make friends and love Him and his perfect ‘repairs’ . Most likely I will get to play and sing with a ‘big band’ of other musicians on a dance floor made of flaming glass! It’s pretty good.
I think good preachers should be like bad kids. They ought to be naughty enough to tiptoe up on dozing congregations, steal their bottles of religion pills, and morality pills, and flush them all down the drain. The church, by and large, has drugged itself into thinking that proper human behavior is the key to its relationship to God. What preachers need to do is force it to go cold turkey with nothing but the word of the cross—and then be brave enough to stick around while it goes through the inevitable withdrawal symptoms. … Robert Farrar Capon (1925-2013),
Genuine controversy, fair cut and thrust before a common audience, has become in our special epoch very rare. For the sincere conversationalist is above all things a good listener. The really burning enthusiast never interrupts; he listens to the enemy’s arguments as eagerly as a spy would listen to the enemy’s arrangements. If you attempt an actual argument with a modern paper of opposite politics, you will find that no medium is admitted between violence and evasion. You will have no answer except slandering or silence. …G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936),
Was there a moment known only to God, when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all his love into the womb of a young girl, and the universe started to breathe again, and the ancient harmonies resumed their song, and the angels clapped for joy?
…Madeleine L’Engle (1918-2007)
O be calm and quiet all by yourself is hardly the same as sleeping. In fact, it means being fully awake and following with close attention every move going on inside you. It involves a self-discipline where the urge to get up and go is recognized as a temptation to look elsewhere for what is really close at hand. It is the freedom to stroll in your own yard, to rake up the leaves and clear the paths so you can easily find your way.
…Henri J. M. Nouwen (1932-1996)
Here is my examination at the beginning of Advent, at the beginning of a new year. Lack of charity, criticism of superiors, of neighbors, of friends and enemies. Idle talk, impatience, lack of self-control and mortification towards self, and of love towards others. Pride and presumption. (It is good to have visitors – one’s faults stand out in the company of others.) Self-will, desire not to be corrected, to have one’s own way. The desire in turn to correct others, impatience in thought and speech. The remedy is recollection and silence
Dorothy Day (1897-1980),
Everything is made to center upon the initial act of “accepting” Christ (a term, incidentally, which is not found in the Bible) and we are not expected thereafter to crave any further revelation of God to our souls. We have been snared in the coils of a spurious logic which insists that if we have found Him we need no more seek Him. This is set before us as the last word in orthodoxy, and it is taken for granted that no Bible-taught Christian ever believed otherwise
A. W. Tozer (1879-1963)
It must be admitted that a few clergymen glory in the contrast between their status and that of ordinary Christians. They accept obeisance as a natural right; they monopolize public praying; they learn how to keep themselves in the limelight. There is something about the pastoral office which makes the temptation to egocentricity especially powerful. This is partly because the successful preacher is regularly praised to his face. His mood seems a far cry from that of Christ when He girded Himself with a towel and washed the feet of His followers. Elton Trueblood (1900-1994)
I am tempted briefly to capture and quote this collection of wisdom from my heroes of the world of words. The unsung often, and the missing books of education in truth. I can tell they have read others I do not even know enough about, yet I seek them on the shelves of the local libraries. Order those books from other libraries that cater to education in nearby colleges and bastions of wisdom.
If the change jar has enough weight, it is tempting to purchase them used from the jungle named retailer that ships them right to my mailbox. At the end of our driveway sits the simple metal half domed box. A clever ramped mount keeps it intact when the snowplow comes by and only throws the mail on the road without doing in the box itself.
Books, the bastions of wisdom, way beyond the courage of Tindale and smugglers to bring the Word itself, printed illegally in hidden shops and stowed in ships dunnage to the people eager to read truth.
Now I badger the local librarians for the aforementioned authors to be loaned to me. A few of them are pleasantly surprised that a patron would request them. They help search for these treasures. I do too when they are busy. Remember the card catalogs?
Breeze past the books of fiction thrills and romance novels and films. I do enjoy “As you wish” as a guide for the treasures among the drivel however.
Read the local paper with mug shots of apprehended near-do-wells for real self back patting as I do. The news is interesting but not knowledge. Gossip in nice clear ink and I do like the full sized papers that snap open. I pretend I am on an old trolley in England, getting conversation starters for the morning club with my friends.
Books, hard bound and weary found at second hand stores. Treasure hunting at it’s best.
There was a job that I took on. I had not worked for many years, regularly that is. People would tell me; “Must be pretty good to be re-tired now!” bristling inside as though they were really telling me; How does it feel to be somewhat useful and just hanging about on the couch?
I would then tell a joke about I didn’t need new tires and that I was working harder then ever. I was, somewhat. Not behind the desk and in front of the toolbox with my name on a blue work suit. A business I built up for four decades, it was hard at first, not being in charge but after a botched anesthesia, I began having seizures.
A friend took over for a short time and then left with out much notice or contact. Our automotive Shop is still in great shape, but the work is now on our own stuff and our youngest son takes care of all of it. Brilliant young man and does not run the old business He takes care of everything in the mechanical build, repair and maintain department for us all and our friends. He tore down the original shop which was hooked onto by the newer building with a snazzy German hoist (Nussbaum) He then designed and totally rebuilt that back building from the foundation up. Beautiful work and the mice no longer have a drafty freeway to enter by. A shop cat makes sure that is not an issue any more.
I now work hard at Gardening, firewood, land upkeep, and writing about my very strange and exciting life. Hurricanes at sea, betrayed love, deliverance from heroin by five words spoken in a closed room. Things like that. Bold things, near death experiences. Imprisonment in Spain, torture by jailers, preceded by escapes and living on the street in Rome. Hard work on the steel gangs and bold section men who could handle the steel tools and rails. A Hemingway life.
Many more things I wrote about and my editor at the paper encouraged me and was attempting syndication of my columns. It never happened and I actually got let go for writing too strongly about Jesus and his Father.
I am still writing and send stuff to a great paper in Northern Wisconsin, The Bottom Line News and Views. Contemplating a collected column book of 365 columns. It wouldn’t sell on the planet Mercury very well, A day on Mercury lasts longer than a year there. Pretty hot there and the bookstore distribution business has yet to get Amazon on board with those markets.
Along came a job paying good money for traveling around the extended area, interviewing people for a government program.
The census. I got a plastic badge around my neck, a clipboard and an iPhone. I drove a lot and found roads not traveled and places that were somewhat unpleasant and threats from people that didn’t want to talk to me. However, the pleasant folks that opened up their homes and front porches made up for it.
I got pretty good at establishing common ground and had some great chats about experiences in the military. Often, some would notice my demeanor and know that I was a man of faith
working for a little extra cash. Great conversations occurred and made all the scary encounters fade into the background. Connection.The shared lives that were just like everyone’s: Heartache, loss and loved ones gone. There once was an invitation to share sloppy Joe’s at a lakeside cabin. They where pretty good and the buns were firm and not greasy.
A memorable visit introduced me to homemade Kahlua. ‘Grandmas night-night juice’ she named it. She gave me a flask of it and it was, as I usually state, Pretty good.
The money was earmarked for a new sidewalk from the our house to the shop. It was worth all of the tough interviews. The connections with people from the high end, golfers putting near their private aircraft to the very run down houses with wary women peeking out from the edge of slightly opened doors. All of them worthy of the love of God. Equally and, in their own ways, somewhat open to this strange Scandinavian at their front door.
Of course, there was a bit of tension when deadly force was mentioned in retaliation for me daring to show up for the government’s people counting. A slight short peek at a holstered wheel gun for my perusal. People of different ethnic backgrounds, poor and rich, helpful and insulting. It was life in a distilled time of weeks and roads not traveled. Road food and decent pay.
A side benefit was a sign in the back window my car that had a real official government look about it. Tailgaters would get close, get a glimpse of the sign and suddenly drop back a decent amount. I wasn’t driving a Dodge charger like the squads, but it was very subtle and effective.
The sidewalk got done with a slight color and texture added in. Still striking and easily sanded in season. We should have one from the porch to the driveway too. Why not put one in from there to the garden gate! “It ain’t happening” as the local colloquialism says.
They do those Census activities every ten years and it’s been twenty and I haven’t got a job offer again. Maybe they found out I was enjoying the job and that is not an attribute for government work… perhaps.
I would have a good time on “What’s my line?” Comforting, ministering and praying would be a good description. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
Read Henri J.M. Nouwen’s ‘The wounded healer’ for clarification.
I was reading an introduction to a nice book that was a gift and came across that word, Lectio Devina. [to practice what you read and understand]. Wisdom and truth given by Christ not just for realizing truth, given as life paths to be more like Him.
Just the other day, I was working on putting new handles on a wheel barrow. Quite a few carriage bolts and nuts involved in the process. It was going pretty well, I managed to put them all in order and even get some new ones to replace the rusted ones. I put the handles on after a lengthily process of removing the old ones. Putting needle nose vice grips on the old rusty bolts and keeping them from spinning the rusty carriage bolt tops. The barrow itself is rather rusty and the holes weak. It went pretty good nonetheless.
Finally, putting the new wooden handles in place, I found the holes drilled in them did not correspond with the old handles! The hardware person assured me that all those handles were the same for every application. They weren’t. I had to drill out two of them that were off by 20mm. . Finding the drill bit in my somewhat disorganized tool drawer by size and then carefully marking the place to drill with a center punch, I managed to make the correct holes.
The process started over again the this time, it worked until it became time to mount the wheel. Those holes did not work and the mounting is tricky to start with. The mounts have to swivel a little to accommodate the angles and those holes were off as well. I started to loose patience and pulled up the wheel, dropping the shims and the sliding mounts all at once onto the floor and preceded to start throwing things around. Tools and parts. Julie was there by then and was ‘disappointed’ in my behavior. I Felt justified in my frustration and she observed, I was not acting as I have written about, talked about, even advised on this behavior problem.
We were both upset, to put it mildly, and after lying on the grass outside the shop, I began the process of first beating myself up about my behavior and then had enough sense to go out to my spot in the middle of our garden and speak to our Lord about this pattern of frustration. Gently He reminded me to put into my life the things that I quote from Scripture to others. It was humbling and began a healing in me. The next morning I began reading a recent book that was a gift and found the perfect instructions to follow. Lectio Devina. [Practice what you read and preach].
Old words from Latin that are relevant right here, right now. There are many of us that believe wisdom is for us to speak and write about and be hot shot scholars that know many things about scripture.
Behaviors, attitudes and good things our Lord tells us about every day. Love your neighbors, be generous, be kind and always listen to that still, small voice in our spirit. I have to die to my own excuses, perceived righteous behaviors and judgment of others. The hardest one for me seems to be my judgment of myself that is the wrong way to go about changing my behavior.
Sound familiar? Take this to heart as I have revealed a weakness of my own. Let this truth go deep and stir up our minds and all our behavior. Understanding that all of us need to realize that faith means more than belief. I can understand how to use tools, but the one tool I am still learning to use better is the spirit of our Lord.
There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus. He is the judge of all things, but he does not condemn. After all, the thief on the cross simply said, “remember me when you come into your Kingdom” Jesus knew what the man said. I look ahead to meeting that man as well. He was at his last breath but knew the Lord and forgiveness for his life and sins.
How it applies to me? I have more time before my last breath. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
With thanks to Matt Meher composer, for his singing truth and beauty recordings while I write
There is a common saying around the world that means much more than the two words it says. It is about acceptance and it can be very misleading to some of us. Accepting a gift is pleasant as it also is getting a package from the brown truck. They could be one in the same as well! You must, of course open the door and let the package into your home. If you are not at home, the gift will be left on your doorstep. Maybe.
The thing I am referring to is the common phrase, Accepting Christ. It is usually a cause for celebration by both the recipient and family. But what does the phrase imply? Is it just like opening your door to have a package of renown given to you? It would seem the phrase would indicate that someone finally made up their mind to indeed open their door and receive a Man. It seems so simple, but what does it really mean to us?
I like the phrase, ‘Accepting the Word’ It means so much more and it doesn’t mean an instantaneous change and a new person that almost glows. Of course, there is an immediate change often, but at times nothing really changes. It can be world shaking as it was for me. I had been seeking some answers to questions. The big ones. “Who made the universe and why? Why do I look a bit different and why am I a bit happier than I was? Why do I think and do things that even I know are wrong?”
Answers that we all ponder and pontificate on. We all have ideas to answer those queries as well. As was said by one of the wisest men known: “Those who are given over to preconceived ideas are forced to defend what they cannot prove” Cicero 36 BC.
We cannot prove those big answers but some try with science and theory. Evolution is one of the greatest children’s stories ever expounded upon. It has entertaining value, much akin to science fiction classics. We evolved a brain with more synapses than there are stars in the Milky Way? Ben Carson pointed to that absurdity.
We have all heard them from some pretty smart guys. They are brilliant scientists and tell us that a big firecracker exploded a few millennia ago (the big bang) and all we know and see came of it. The new question which has not been answered is where did the firecracker come from and who lit the fuse?
All those questions can be answered within the pages of one very old book. You most likely have heard of it and probably have one. It starts “In the beginning” which indicates that time started then which is incomprehensible to us but we read on, and it starts to make sense. A lot of sense. It states that at that exact time, God created the building blocks of the universe. Then He made us to enjoy Him and His incredible creation Further into the book it states: In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and Word was God. All the scholars and teachers that Jack has met agree on the description of Jesus as ‘the Word’ That makes sense after a while of study. A lot of reading starts with the above questions.
The Triune God. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. All of the three God and separate as well. I know what you are thinking. If you are anything else than a Christian, then it doesn’t make sense. If you are a Christian it doesn’t make sense at times either. Ask someone in your circle of believers to talk about it with you. Dig and keep asking questions. Be unrelenting in your pursuit of God and knowledge of Him.
Read and then study in ‘the word’ (Bible) coupled with some pretty savvy authors. My all time favorite for the tough questions is C.S.Lewis and his seminal magnum opus, ‘Mere Christianity’ You might have read or seen the movie, Chronicles of Narnia. (That work is a wonderful primer for Mere Christianity.)
Read Mere Christianity a few times and then put it down for a while and then read it again. And later, when looking for some light reading, read it again anyway. There was a group of scholars from Berea (modern day Greece) that studied like I am asking you to do. So perhaps another way of saying the tremendous realization of ‘accepting Christ’, would be following Him or studying Him.
The best way is to talk to Christ. Right now. He is delighted to talk with you. He is eternal and can be your intimate best friend for life. The description I like is ‘Became best friends with Jesus’ It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
It’s a reasonable question. You’ve most likely heard it a few times in action movies. You know, the ones where a pivotal decision must be made. Join up or go away. Often in the movies, you get gone in various unpleasant ways. I have experienced the question a few times. One of those times was dicey, guns and badges and unpleasantness in the offing. I made the right decision. Still around, no club affiliation resulting. I would have been in a different organization had I made the wrong decision. Other clubs, vying for a decision, were even more unpleasant. No badges, just the guns.
Are you in, or are you out? Tough choice at times, even the benign ‘clubs’ offer recognition and public notices of that. We all join up, really, all of us. The offers come at us our whole lives and it starts pretty early on.
The sports team, class officers, teachers assistant, hall monitor. Decisions that last our whole lives. It’s not on Facebook, it’s in the class yearbook. A moment in time that some of us are still living in. We see it a lot. “Remember Miss Bertie’s physics class? You were her assistant and pet student!” That worked out nicely for me. She decided to have the whole class walk over to my house and observe my ham radio outfit that was set in my bedroom. Russell avenue north in Minneapolis. I made easy contact on AM (voice) with a local operator and demonstrated the rig. The best part for me was one of the class girls siting on my bed, visible to my right. That was a good memory for a while. That club was short lived but on the whole, enjoyable.
Often, the joining is almost involuntary and known by us to be critical for survival. Back in ‘the days’ I joined an outfit that promised skilled training and excitement with nice uniforms. Saved mys life perhaps but had other things, unpleasant things to go with it. I had to join, the government wanted me too, all they promised at worst was a quick death. That process was called the draft, but now it is just a term to describe selection for a sports team. Join up! Promotion guaranteed and fame to go with it.
We all have to make these decisions to join or not in our lives. Most often, the decisions are not even a problem. Unless, of course, your friends think it’s a bad idea. I seek council over seemingly trivial decisions to join a team/club/association etc.
I do not join anything easily, even temporary things. Protest marches or sit ins were popular in the sixties. However there was the unpleasant tear gas, rubber bullets and the new invention of plastic ties. The record of the experience resulting in something a bit worse that a parking ticket. Another club for life. A record of offense and even incarceration as initiation.
Joining benevolent organizations are hard for me too. They promise camaraderie and friendships with people. If you follow the rules, which often includes a dress code. I am just wary and afraid that this joining up will turn into another club. Initiations such as crossing the equator and becoming a shell-back (Navy stuff) are fun and humiliating and that’s it. If you enjoy drinking alcohol a lot and the comradery the vets bars are fine. I enjoy an excellent scotch on the rocks. Seldom and those bars do not stock the 15 year old stuff. White shirts an M14’s at funerals are boring and showy. Live rounds would be ‘interesting’ and a rain of bullets from the down turn of upward protectory would add reality and suspense to the funerals. No one knew who was going to be next before, why not now? Best to stay inside a while.
Military divisions are different in a way that reduces the seriousness and actually builds camaraderie. Last memories before the waves wash over you. Or perhaps the thunder of a crushed hull below. Terrifying it is said but quick. Maybe my original club of the Navy boats (subs) wasn’t such a good idea anyway. Dangerous club for sure. Your fellow club members will remember you forever.
I have had a hard time with clubs. It very well may be because I have joined so few, been invited to less, and somehow always felt ‘out of it’
Finally I did join the best club. . The kind that welcomes hunger and thirst and an organization that promises eternal joy and fulfillment. You know it. The real outfit that guarantees all those things in writing. You have to ask the creator of the club to join. Membership is lifetime and Eternal. The outfit that amazingly that all of us are asked to join. At the clubhouse the music is heavenly. Usually. I have regretted many life altering events and attendant decisions I have embraced. Not this one! I was astonished, tear filled and overjoyed when I became a believer In the Lord Jesus. A few decisions of course are made after this life giving and altering event.
Where do I go now? If I stop, look and listen I will see exactly where to go, what to do and what to say when I get to where I should be. There is a handbook that explains this ‘club’ Is does not have all the answers for my questions. I ask the questions to the Creator of myself and you and He listens every time. I then have to look into my heart and soul and listen to Him and in His timing, He will answer everything.
Being eternal, Jesus sometimes will tell me, “Soon” A little smile goes with that answer. I am satisfied and when I feel His Face shinning upon me, I am very satisfied.
Stop, look, and Listen is a strong memory of my railroad track worker times. Good advice.
Most of these things could be programmed audibly to fine tune their assigned tasks. The inevitable outcome was a version of “Open the pod door Hal” from Space Odyssey. The Lawnba mowed over the peonies and a pair of forgotten gloves nearby. Audible commands corrected that sort of thing but it proceeded to make mistakes. We returned it and the store told us it just needed a little tweaking of it’s software and it was OK…for a while. The toe of Norm’s boot was the last straw and we returned it for a refund.
It refused to clean up confusing commands. It was so handy and irresistible when it was demonstrated when we handed over the down payment for it. The perfect solution for a
family on the go. The lawnba. It was promised to mow, mulch, rake and take the clippings to our compost pile in the garden. When it’s tasks where complete, it would dock itself to the charging station mounted. Anywhere it was conveniently placed!
For an extra five Benjamins, it would go into the shop and sharpen it’s blades when needed. Amazing appliance that would astonish that we had a gardener. There were other similar appliances that were similar to Wallace and Grommets Auto chef and alarm clock. We both needed to up our salaries to get hold of such labor saving things. Time, of course, is golden and the extra work would make us perfect to enjoy the better things of life.
The Auto Chef also had a few quirks. Frying avocados and throwing them across the kitchen and accurately landing them on our plates but it was surprising. When the Lift Easy garage door opener squashed our cat, we gave up on those modern labor saving advances and began living as we were promised by the Lord. Plowing, harvesting and sweating the lives of real life. We began to slow down, ditched the overtime and side incomes went and worked.
The reality of my early days of working on railroad tracks and crossings made sense when I remembered the signs near the crossings. Stop Look Listen. A summing up of most of the well researched books and articles I have read. The Genesse Abby, C.S. Lewis, Mark Batterson and Nenri Knowen and the Bible all said the same thing. Stop trying to figure it all out, Look to Him who has the answers, and listen to that still, small voice that tells you that love is the basis of all things and what to do to engender that in all ways and continue the path of truth and joy promised to us. Promised by the Creator of all things and the miracle of life itself.
May he turn His face towards you, and give you peace. It’s pretty Good.
We are made in his image. We breath in every breath Twenty five Sextillion molecules which get fed into sixty thousand miles of veins, arteries and capillaries. And the 1+1+1 = 1 made it all within us. As far as we can see into the universe. It is now seen as at least 93 billion light Years long or wide, whatever you want to try and imagine as impossible to comprehend.
God spoke it to existence by the way. How big or small is the Lord of creation?
I read a lot and some things stick a bit longer in me such as I have mentioned, meditating on simple things such as “who are you Lord and who am I praying to?” 1. I have also read about a church that Frederic Buechner searched for. He visited them all nearby. Lutheran, Methodist, Catholic, Presbyterian, New age, Old age and all the rest. He finally settled on one called Smokey Mary’s.
It was a large cathedral type with constant incense burning and smelled like Christmas. At the stage or platform as it is called, were the leaders and priests/clergy dressed in elaborate ways that seemed as the Micado was in production. There was chanting in Latin or perhaps Russian. It seems to me Frederic was seeking Holiness, mystery and something incomprehensible to him. It worked and the mystery was there. I would like to visit there too. “Never loose a Holy curiosity” 2.
No flannel graph Bibles to be seen. Otherworldly approaches to everything of religion and faith in an incomprehensible worship of the God of creation. A good start. There was no preaching with words that we have grown used to and even doze a bit thinking about Sunday dinner. Sin, Transfiguration, repentance and such. We just breeze by listening sometimes and once again, try to imagine what God meant when he stated we were made in their image.
I wear flannel shirts sometimes. I could be stuck to a graph in two dimensional purgatory for all I know. I heard His voice once, saved my life but I did not see Him or a burning bush either. I know I have been blessed beyond my comprehension many times and the only answer to that is my purpose is to tell everyone I can about the love of God.
What does He look like we all wonder. I stood and stared at the ceiling of the Sistine chapel and the finger of God reaching towards Adam. It worked as an image for a while. The best that Michelangelo could come up with. Anthropomorphic, to keep us all a little calmer when thinking of a million galaxies and it’s creation. By one word. A planet in the unfashionable spiral arm of the Milky Way. Orbiting a yellow dwarf star at 161,000 miles per hour. Every second our star burns 4 million tons of matter into fusion energy (E=MC2) Oh yes, we spin at 1,000 mph. What a creation. Just for us, perfect except for the north and south poles. Hard to live there.
1. Frederic Beuchner Also with many thanks to Henri Nouwen, Mark Batterson, and Tycho Brahe
Jack gators grace notes 