Author: Norman Eric Peterson

Prejudice Against Jack’s Family

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Enough is enough. There are a few relatives down south in Jack’s family line. Cousins/Uncles, the usual
smattering of odd balls and brilliant and creative ones. Usually the same ones in both categories. There is
always prejudice out there against professional gators. Folks just don’t understand how hard we work for
our food.


You know how it is. The relatives show up, sometimes moving in or acquiring a home in the area. A
family of distant relatives bought a 40 and is attempting to put in a meat factory to enhance their diet.
Who knows how that will turn out! Some people have been protesting against these ‘gators’ and it’s gotten a bit ugly.
One of Jack’s relatives was offered a bribe to put in a big swampy factory that made them just drool with
the possibilities of unlimited pork and ham hocks. Local folks again, didn’t want anything to do with this
operation. There is a clever acronym for this operation: Controlled Alligator Feeding Operation. CAFO


The folks that really like sushi-on-the -hoof were very enthusiastic and supportive. Even folks that are just
dabbling into larger lagoons of mass production are enthusiastic.


Of course, the inevitable protesters always show up when it’s plain the other producers of larger farm
products do not have ‘skin in the game’. They’re just paranoid that their operations will be restricted or
monitored for environmental issue violations.


The old game of ‘gator seniority’ comes into play a lot. You know how it goes. “My family has been here
in this beautiful swap for four generations! We know what we are about and we respect other gators
around us. After all, we don’t want all the land, just the land next to ours. No need to get snappy about it.
It’s the way it always has been for professional reptiles.


The recollection of all the kids down by the bank of the swamp practicing their ‘death rolls’ is so much fun
to watch. They constantly look to us up on the bank as we snack on somebody that showed up. Or is it
with somebody? It gets a bit dicey when you are a predator to toe the line of eat or be eaten. Neighbors
are nice to have and now and then, Gator appetites can be a bit of a problem. When your feeling a bit
hungry and just need a little something to satisfy you, it gets confusing. Territorial food chains and all
that.


The rabbit family just downstream have been really nice neighbors. Really nice. The beavers next door
are very understanding with us and always avoid our family gatherings. Not pushy per se. Live and let
live we always say. Predators make good neighbors, ask the snapping turtle family across the river. Their
eggs are pretty good too.

So, to sum up, live and let live. Our territory is necessarily bigger, it’s only fair. We were here first.

Jack Gator

Quotes of Renown

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How often is the Christian church no more than a self-centered community only faintly concerned that God’s will be done in the life of the world, only faintly interested in justice and mercy for this earth’s exploited messes, but passionately devoted to our own protection and advancement as a community and, if we are piously inclined, to assuring that after a comfortable passage through this life we can look forward to a guaranteed place in the foam-rubber-padded seats of heaven.

…Lesslie Newbigin

Christ was crucified because he would have nothing to do with the crowd (even though he addressed himself to all). He did not want to form a party, an interest group, or a mass movement, but wanted to be what he was, the truth, which is related to the single individual. Therefore everyone who will genuinely serve the truth is by that very fact a martyr. To win a crowd is no art; for that only untruth is needed, nonsense, and a little knowledge of human passions. But no witness to the truth dares to get involved with the crowd.

… Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)

We cover our deep ignorance with words, but we are ashamed to wonder, we are afraid to whisper “mystery.”

… A. W. Tozer (1897-1963), The Knowledge of the Holy, Harper & Row, 1975 p 26

Do not talk much; neither long at a time. Few can converse profitably above an hour. ‘Keep at the utmost distance from pious chitchat, from religious gossiping. John Westley

Above all, praying means to be accepting toward God who is always new, always different. For God is a deeply moved God whose heart is greater than mine. The open acceptance of prayer in the face of an ever-new God makes me free. In prayer, I am constantly on the way, on pilgrimage.

…Henri J. M. Nouwen (1932-1996), With Open Hands, Ave Maria Press, 1981 p 69

Religion is divisive.” Yes, it is. But God is not. Religion is divisive when it becomes fanaticism, an insistence that we know all the answers, and that anybody whose answers are slightly different from ours must be wrong. Madeline D Engle

C.S. Lewis “I found that I had a prejudice against the French.” Warnie Lewis “How would that be?” Well, if I knew why, it wouldn’t be a prejudice, would it?”

C.S. Lewis: “I wouldn’t be the first ass that Christ has used and most probably not the last”“In a world of self-promoting academics, coining buzzwords and aligning themselves on the side of the angels of the moment, George Stigler epitomized a rare integrity as well as a rare intellect. He jumped on no bandwagons, beat no drums for causes, created no personal cult. He did the work of a scholar and a teacher—both superbly—and found that sufficient. If you wanted to learn, and above all if you wanted to learn how to think—how to avoid the vague words, fuzzy thoughts, or maudlin sentiments that cloud over reality—then Stigler was your man.”

Economist Thomas Sowell on Nobel prize winning George Stigler

Calling Jean-Paul Sartre: “Hello, is he free?” ‘he’s spent the last 60 years trying to work that one out’ Monty Pythons Flying Circus

“Explaining Metaphysics to the nation. I wish he would explain his explanation” Lord Byron in ‘Don Juan’

“The King James version or the authorized version as it was known. All subsequent translations seem to me to the verbal felicity of bureaucratic circulars” Theodore Dalrymple

“ Like a mornings cold spring, clinging to winter’s chill” J.R.R. Tolkien ‘the two towers’ Lord of the Rings.

These are some of the brilliant writings that I, Jack Gator, cling to and paraphrase in some weaker way to express myself. As my long gone mentor, another Jack, said: He owed a great debt to George MacDonald for his inspiration and his Muse. Not to plagiarize them, but to express their wisdom somehow with my own sentences and images. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Loneliness

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There is a common malady that a great majority of us suffer from. Not fear although that can easily be a part of this condition. The lack of contact with others or the inability to actually help someone who suffers from loneliness. This malady is so common that the temptation to minister to another person who also suffers from it is a desire. Unfortunately, the easiest and worst approach is commonality.

“Oh, you too! I am so lonely at times as well. I usually draw out an exciting new novel by Reptile Ron and relax with a warm quilt and a cup of decaf. Might work for you too!” Just substitute an exciting and personal story for your lonely feelings, it was recommended by Readers Disgust!

We all have scars of loneliness. A quote from Henri J.M. Nouwen says a controversial thing about these scars. “The Christian way of life does not take away our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift” a. Nothing will be able to take it away. Vacations to exotic locales, incredible soirees, fame and fortune cannot fill that wound. The ministry to the wounded is done by a wounded person.

The ‘crack’ or visible wound in us is akin to the Grand Canyon. It seems ‘out of place’ and somewhat threatening and dangerous. There is incredible beauty in it as well. A rock climber can overcome fear and descend, roped in and perhaps discovering a precious jewel encased in the hard rock..’

The loneliness Jesus endured up to his seemingly impossible sacrifice is palpable. His best and dearest disciples were asked to stay with Him while He struggled with the biggest and most horrid event of His life. Up in the Mount of Olives was the sweating of blood and the trusted and loved ones were fast asleep. Abandoned and alone. Willing to obey, but knowing the abandonment to come would be the most horrific event in the universe.

It all comes down to the cross, doesn’t it. An old legend in the Jewish Talmud shows us the ministry to come. Rabbi Yoshua asks Elijah when will the Messiah come? Elijah replied, “Go and ask Him yourself” The incredible question of where the Messiah was is answered “sitting at the gates of the city” The Rabbi is told the Messiah is sitting among the poor, covered with wounds. The people unbind all their wounds and then bind them up again. The Messiah unbinds one of His wounds and binds it again. He realizes He will be needed and feels He must be ready with no delay.

His wounds, akin to precious jewels found in the destruction of His canyon, enable the poor in spirit to be healed as He shows us the wounds, unbound “Touch my nail pierced hands, put yours in my wounded side, Give me all your love because I’ve given you all of mine” b. The ultimate loneliness He endured gives him the ability to touch every lonely and wounded heart and bind it together with the wraps of total love.

It’s who we are, we fall asleep in our comfy chairs just when the ministering one tells us to awaken and become a New Life. Abandon the false gods of comfort and a life with peace of mind with no troubles and a life style that promises to be care free. Touch His nail pierced hands, maybe for the first time and feel the embrace that will take that wound of loneliness. Forever. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

a. Henri Nouwen ‘the wounded healer’ b. Jon Thurlow ‘I just want to know you better’

Tuning Forks

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A fascinating device, the tuning fork. Jack has owned one for some time. It doesn’t get used anymore because electronic ones were invented that are a lot handier. The fork, however, has uses that are not possible with the electric styles. You possibly have had one of these forks shown to you. Hold it in your hand and give it a sharp rap on something that won’t be damaging. The tone rings out and you can put it on your mastoid bone to hear it quite clearly. You can set it on the pick guard of your string instrument and tune up with it (they come in various notes, so make a note of the note.) Just tighten or loosen an A string till the tones merge into one. No fair tuning to a fourth of A (D) it will sound a simple chord, but the string will be a bit worse for wear if it is above the D.

IF you have two forks, and they are the same tone, one will vibrate when the other is struck. Sympathetic tone response. It’s pretty cool. But, who has two tuning forks in A?

The call of other things in our lives can also resonate with us. Jack has noticed in a small crowd of people, that a certain word will ‘resonate’ in his mind and capture attention. Words such as: Fiddle or Mandolin. We all know this well. How many times have all of us heard our first name across a room and instinctively turned towards the sound? The faint sound of a voice calling you to dinner (noon lunch for those who need clarification). Resonance is a good word to explain this phenomenon. Perhaps it is now time to introduce the next phenomenon of this fascinating ‘tune’. There are friends and then there are neighbors who can also be friends. A common problem to those among us that want to be a friend for everyone. They wind up unable to be close to anybody.

A person that is the closest friend of all is another step into friendship. Proximus is the descriptive word for best friend. It derives from middle French but the original Latin basic means ‘closest’ or ‘nearest’. A neat word which branches into proximity. So Bear with Jack a bit longer, words are powerful.

The best tuning fork that resonates is the one that is the sum of you. The common phrase is: “I feel like I’ve known him all my life!” Often Jack meets a total stranger that Jack knows has met his Proximus. It really is a common experience if you can ‘tune yourself’ to be aware of it. Several moments where that really stood out are some of Jack’s favorite short stories. A helping guide in a monster sized warehouse that took time to show Jack where something was. Not an employee. A woman that waited for Jack in her car that she had just run into Jack’s car in a parking lot. Many such encounters have occurred, those are just two that are easier to write about.

People that Jack has said five words to: “You’re a Christian aren’t you?” It is encouraging and it is obvious if your tuning fork is ringing true. Brothers in Christ carry that. Don’t be afraid to say it. You’ll know if you listen for that sound. The sound of light, the sound stars sing around the throne. Often the sound that indeed is light. It’s all frequencies on the wavelength of eternity. Listen, it’s for you. Love has a sound of it’s own and it’s pretty good. Jack Gator

The Evers Walz at the Governor’s Ball

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A dance tune that has taken the Midwest by storm has the full endorsement of Washington politicians who have been Biden their time for this musical comedy.

Written by a relatively unknown fiddler in Wisconsin, it has up to now been performed in Madison and St.Paul. The melody starts with a very fast arpeggio which quickly settles in for a downward movement from the right side of the fingerboard to the left (high notes to increasingly low ones)

Accompaniment in the score recommends counter melodies to be played on the bass buffoon with introduction of the passage by left hand pizzicato on the 2 ½ bass. Oddly enough, it was first performed in a closed pizza parlor in Northern Minnesota during a medical theater production in 2020. It was so controversial that the government ordered the restaurant closed along with every restaurant in the state.

Immediately, in support of the closings, the neighboring state of Wisconsin also closed public dining. It caused quite a stir among the populace. There were fines enforced by an attorney general who’s religion forbids the consumption of alcoholic drinks. It was in the first act of the medical theater which began in Washington D.C.

The dance continues to this day and the dancers are soon to leave the stage for ignominy with bad reviews.

It seems that these political satraps are also stirring the ire of the populace that are refusing the continuation of the influence of inept back peddling of the accompanying dancers.

Near the end of the comedy (which really wasn’t funny at all) the main dancers attempted to dance backwards to begin the dance again. The audiences at these nationwide productions began booing and even throwing things at the dancers. The debris began to build and not a few of the performers began to trip and go completely off script in attempting to save the performances.

It did not go well for those shows. They complained that the awkwardness’ and disgust generated were just false impressions of this comic opera. Trumped up and not noteworthy.

History has a way of repeating bad productions which are still seen on the world’s stage today. This reviewer advises to be diligent and read the scores of these dances. Variations of the parody (which began as a musical comedy) have been taken seriously by bad dancers who still believe in awkward, dangerous and foolish moves. There can be consequences to keep buying tickets to these operas. Read the sheet music and know the score.

It’s pretty good to do so. Jack Gator

Titus Quinctius Cincinnatus

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A Roman citizen who exemplified rule for the greater good, Civic Modesty, Virtue and Humility. Several times he controlled the Roman Empire and led it to a successful fulfillment of long term vision and intelligent use of resources and strength. He lived around 500 BC. After ruling the empire several times and putting back on track of civilization (Ending the reliance upon the state) he retired and went back to his small farm.

Very much akin to our own George Washington who made certain that our nation stood by the constitution, after this was accomplished he also went back to his farm (voluntarily retirement) in Mount Vernon.

The obvious problem then, and now, is the outlook of time. Quick satisfaction of wish or long term growth and security. We are faced with this decision now in our nation. Is it growth in essential ways? Or do we wish for the things and ways that seem to satisfy our now?

Quick fix and keeping the populace settled (somewhat) and the offering of government supply and direction. Also a lot of ‘fake news’ to stir the pot of longing. We have all seen the anxiety in our neighbors for things that are not long term goals but in perceived wealth and safety (perceived). I will not pontificate of these things. They are simple things and easily seen, if we want honesty and use the intelligence we have been given.

Stimulus cash that is dolled out to make us believe in a benign economy, entertaining conflict on the airwaves or through fibre optic high speed computers. My desktop is pages long every morning of answers to satisfying images. A new electric powered car (with a power grid capable of keeping them charged?) Lowering the price of gasoline by a dime by releasing two days worth of national emergency oil.

How about getting another and another shot of security which is akin to the finger in the dike by a small vision that promises and can’t deliver. Backed up of course by fear mongering. ‘Bring out your dead’ It will probably be you. Keep those shields up Scotty! Isolate and tremble. Your saviors in the capitol will let you know when it is safe. Life is not safe, never was. Again, as C.S. Lewis penned it so brilliantly about our Lord: “Is He safe? Of course not, He’s a lion..but He’s good”

It would seem quite a few people are getting aware that it isn’t safe out there. After all, we rely on lines of paint to keep us from deadly forces of impact. Does that seem safe? If I wear a paper mask that does not allow me to breath or see, I will be safe against people. “Buy this one! It fits perfectly!” (unless it isn’t needed) We are in a hurry to pick up that deal, that stimulus check. Survival food and enough ammunition to fight off ‘those people’

Gold and silver bars and coins to trade for your miserable, isolated and fear filled life. Cincinnatus and George Washington knew a lot of these things and with their virtue and honesty, helped us out of our situation.

We need that attitude today. Modesty and the greater good visions. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Diversify

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The morning ritual, perhaps a few of us look forward to it. It ends with the half cup and half caff and a screen at eye level. Jack often wonders at the medical frame straighteners that are taxed with the continual efforts to adjust us to these times. You know the posture. Head tipped forward, about 25 to 30 degrees, left hand upraised and the digits of the right tapping on the small rectangle of plastic.

“Hi Eddie, what’s going on this morning?” “Ed?” Oh hi Jack, I was just checking my account.

The isolation of the postures of those around us. Walking, sitting on a bench perhaps or strap hanging on the metro. It has become a reservoir of escape and capture even on Jack’s email in the morning ritual. An interesting article on a Sunday lecture series is delayed a little bit by advertising that pops up.

We all know how it works and sometimes there is a short escape with a click down in the lower right of the screen that says; ‘Skip ads’ Or perhaps an X off the the right that deletes the ad. Jack has noticed sometimes the ad pops back up. Golly, Jack just wanted to read that article in the New York Bad Times about the collapse of civilization and an opinion of an expert on technical issues with the pending doom.

Old news articles, pulled off with a simple copy and paste. Here’s the news and it isn’t pretty. The immediate thought about that lecture or sermon diminishes to fear. Images of young thugs staring at your car as it is stopped at the red light. Red means danger close. Images of that property that is not selling as fast as it should because the market is skewed. Fear of an empty shelf at the destination locked into the GPS. Why was it always toilet paper that is the first thing missing, even at the two dollar store? “It’s those truckers! It’s the inflation causing something I don’t understand!

The good reporter/bad reporter sets us up for the ads hooked into the online reading. “Invest! Diversify! There is a way to guarantee the future for you and your family!” Another go-round on the roundabout of collapsing faith. Looking at failure and perhaps death by ingestion of food that does not contribute to nutrition. Fake food. Fake news.

As it was said thousands of years ago, there is nothing new under the sun. Same old game we play when we loose faith in the life given to us by the solid reliable source of all knowledge. Where is our Lord and Master? You know, I am doubting things and I am going to make sure every base is covered!

Diversify. There are other ways to make certain of my survival! ‘This offer is solid gold! It will get you through the hard times you have even been promised by that leader who seems to have disappeared ”Bullion. Shiny and eternally so. Secure as the bank. Diversify and survive. Nothing new under the sun.

Is it pretty good or is it just fear and lack of trust? Jack Gator

A Battle for Individual Worth

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I was experiencing another melt down. An appropriate analogy for the origin of Melt Down. A nuclear power plant of any sort, has to be kept cool. There is more heat available in nuclear fission that can be used.

I volunteered for the nuclear submarine service as an engineer and thus, I am somewhat familiar with these things. The reactor must be kept cool enough to survive, to be useful and not dangerous.

The melt down I was experiencing was internal and dangerous to me I was loosing my cool. The core purpose of my being was under question. I was reacting to my perceptions of life and purpose under those perceptions. I felt I was too old and, well, sort of worthless. Thinking of those mile long lines of old grain cars that are seen in a side track sometimes near the highway. Another thought of being set aside is the farm machinery we see near the fields where a new fresh green painted combine is moving among the crop.

Old machinery, old abandoned houses with weathered gray siding and a grown over driveway. Set aside as a symbol of that old Grateful Dead song, “Old and in the way, that’s what I heard them say. They’ll never care about you when you’re old and in the way” That’s the illusion I and perhaps you believed.

We are old, yes. Our hair matches the old barn boards of gray..sometimes a silver gray. So easy to set ourselves on that shunt of rusty steel. Coupled with an endless line of others. Tattooed with gang paint spray and brake hoses disconnected. Forever. Out in the field, the old fashioned tractor almost hidden with the tires flat and grass growing through the frame. How it must be in the dormitories of the old we envision our end. Visitors these days like Clayton Moore with his mask asking how the food is.

Suddenly, I bolted awake with a memory of incredible worth. My worth to an absolute stranger a few years ago. After following an ‘instinct’ to visit an acquaintance in the big hospital, I had an experience that doubled in size as I thought of it.

When I left my new friends room after praying for him, there was a young man, walking slowly down the long corridor. An unusual appearing youth with large hoop earrings. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind if I walked beside him. “Sure, that would be OK. I’m kind of slow” My doctor said I had to walk around this floor several times a day” I responded that I was OK too and not in any hurry. I did not ask the young man why he was in hospital. At the next corridor junction, we both stopped and I said I was going to the right to try and find my car, and it seemed the young man was going left. I then asked if I could pray for him. It was alright with him and I asked if I could put my hand on his shoulder. I do not remember my prayer but afterward the young man said to me “Are you an angel?” I said no, but God sent me here.

So now worth, eternal worth came flooding into my pity party and that was exactly what was needed. We are not abandoned machinery although existential thought and words say we are worthless no matter how old we are.

I had been reading a bit of Sartre, Joyce and Nietzsche for research. Some of those old ink stained minds. Hopelessness, no meaning to life and other cheery stories can go deep, they strain to dominate one’s spirit but God sent me that memory. A memory stronger than death, as strong as the grave and many waters cannot flood this love. A Rich and priceless memory that filled me with hope and a life well lived through the eternity we all glimpse, as through a darkened glass. We are not in the way unless we put ourselves in our own way. Live for others, pray for them and indeed Peace floods in and we become aware. Awake. Redeemed and set in a perfect place and time for His good purpose.

It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Rainbow Over the Garden

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There it is. A rainbow, in it’s original glory. Rain reflecting the colors of the spectrum. A symbol that the Lord said He would give us as a sign that He would never flood us again.

Quite a few people have taken the symbol and the miracle of refracted light and have used it to illuminate fractured light of their own designated symbols and message.

There are many people that also have taken the beauty of the rainbow and used it as a symbol of a product. Quite harmless but still, diminishing the astonishment a child sees. Do you remember the first time? I remember the first time my son saw it. He was fascinated with the arc and even went to England to meet Ken Ham that came up with building a 1:1 copy of Noah’s commanded Arc. Rainbows of covenant between us and the Lord.

Another outfit decided that the rainbow would instead be a symbol of freedom for them. The concept does not make sense in some ways. Freedom? from what? The rainbow’s only freedom is freedom from an earth flood.

The Governor of our state thinks it is appropriate to fly a rainbow flag for a month celebrating endorsing the hijacking of the beautiful rainbow image. For freedom to embrace perversion. How enlightened. It will please 5% of the population that are on board with birth control by having pregnant men.”How many fingers Winston?” (Brave New World)

Remember Judy Garlands song, ‘somewhere, over the rainbow’ ? That symbolized the promise. We of the last century (don’t ask) would never believed that someday our public schools would be teaching the ‘new’ symbol and language. No more does the rainbow offer a promise of protection and commitment. It now offers the symbol of flesh used for pleasure and a prime focus of our awokened sensibilities. Awoken to the real freedom of endorsement of a child being able to be whatever sex they want to be. When our new Supreme Court Justice cannot define what the word ‘woman’ really means, then we are on the way to Ephesus or Pompeii redux.

Maybe the words ‘on the way’ are inappropriate. That train is here, at the station, engine idling. It has already arrived . How about sliding open that boxcar with the really neat rainbow painted on it? Oh look, it’s already open but there’s nothing inside but an unpleasant odor. What’s in the rest of them? Famous authors and ‘experts’ for Newspeak magazine perhaps. Professors and liberal teachers to indoctrinate the children.

That open boxcar in particular had a whole wardrobe for the King! Splendid it is said. A veritable rainbow of color and coordinated accessories. The parade has already started and has startled one young boy…”the King doesn’t have any clothes on!” He is walking around, prideful in his power. Naked and seen as a fool. You and I know the difference between men and Women. Counterfeit money is in the till. Try and spend it. Jack Gator Scribe

Creativity of a Wordsmith

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“The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, does glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven; and as imagination brings forth the forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing, a local habitation and a name.” a

There is a great deal of unread and unnoticed wisdom floating about. Often, those words get clouded over with brash recitation. The meanings almost completely lost for the listener to the erudite speaker. We all do it. As a radio would just become background noise to alleviate the lack of conversation, so does great literature and poetry become in the hands of a tone deaf musician. After all, music is poetry put to sound. Prose and poetry are intoxicating concertos when done well.

Of course, there is a beginning to listening and that is a decision to be made by us all. Do we believe in what is being said as truth, real truth? Or does the effort to inculcate us with excitement in discovered truth not appeal? After all, You and I are most ignorant of great wisdom that lies just about, flat and bound in cardboard or fine leather. Stacks of those at times around my comfy chair that somehow manages to lull me to sleep. Just when my hungry mind starts to come awake, I fall into a slumber. Too much of the fruit of the mind can be intoxicating. Small doses work better for me.

Am I getting tedious and bit vague now? Good, that’s the point. Trained at an early age to embrace ‘speed reading’, I become a bit of a prig without understanding well. The words were read correctly and their meaning understood. There is a word that showed up on the old, yellowed report cards now and then, comprehension. A good illustration would be a story about a young boy that had an extraordinary experience. This boy in the story found a treasure that was revealed later in the book. I instantly thought of booty and coin like. My intellect was not engaged in the story.

The story in mind was a fantasy about real things of spirit and life. The author (a recognized master) had written the story to engage both our excitement and awareness of our selves in the story. After a paragraph or two, stories like this one should be vivid. We paint pictures and set in a sound track. After the story or movie per se’, the author rather insists we go beyond and play the melody of words that add a great deal. Great literature can resemble piano lessons. Suddenly the flatted fifth is beauty..

The next time this happens, I catch himself either dozing, editing to make the story make sense in my mind. ‘This isn’t relevant to me. Why am I listening/reading this? Just as wheat is combined, the sifting begins to yield the golden kernel hidden in a plain looking stalk. The loaves of bread in the promise are not seen by casual glances. Gleaning it is called and we are called to glean wisdom from everyone we meet in person or not. Our choice. Be arrogant and think of ourselves as complete as we are, or open up our hearts and find treasure at hand. Treasures abound if we look for it. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator Scribe

a. William Shakespeare With much thanks to George MacDonald for his novel, At the Back of the North Wind