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.
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
“In the beginning” Three words that describe the entry into the creation of time and the impossible comprehension of what time really is and how time and eternity exist together. Heady stuff. Once in 10th grade physics, I was asked to do a presentation on Einstein’s theory of relativity. It was impossible and the best that I could do was try to describe the bending of light by suns and massive Gas giants. Light that would cause the known universe to actually be a sphere. It made our solar system feel like an indoor affair. I theorized that with a strong enough telescope you could see the back of your head.
The impossible times mentioned by astronomers which try to describe distance by the speed of light itself. A traffic sign out in the Crab Nebula: Speed limit 669,600,000 miles per hour. Light years used to make it a bit simpler. A few miles a year. A bit faster than the fastest cars on the Autostrada in Europe. After all, the closest stars to our own are only 4 light years away, next door neighbors. So far, the closest exploration of space has been our moon, and recently, Mars. Not much to show for that effort except a couple of reasonably priced ATV’s left behind which are really neat. The price for them is very reasonable, delivery is an issue and expensive. Really nice though, great on sand!
There is no logic that affirms bigger is more important. Saturn or Jupiter are not more important than earth. The Andromeda Galaxy is not more important and worthy than our solar system. It’s just a lot bigger, Is a child less valued than a grown man? Logic dictates the answers to this question. I am assured that I am just a valuable as a President and the opposite. So it begs the question: What is more worthy than anything we can see or touch or hear?
The dialogue between Lucretius and Posidonius in Voltair’s writings is another, older dialogue between the atheist and a spiritual man. Never grows old, these conversations. Both imaginary men were written into existence by Voltaire and are brilliant and their arguments well versed. I leave it up to you dear reader to read and enjoy the dialogue. Same one between Steven Hawking and Ravi Zacharias. Many acknowledge Steven’s genius as I, but in matters of creation he was a bit off.
The debate continues throughout history. As for me whom has been spoken to by the living God, it is a moot point. What a privilege to have your life saved to write and speak about Jesus and His gentle ways.
Time and time again He reveals himself to us. Paying attention to that still, small voice from the Word of creation is key. Impossible it is said. I must be delusional and a fool. Such talk is humorous and disappointing to me. Seeds of beauty and inquiry are planted at such conversations. Denial is useless. I know my beautiful and incomprehensible Savior chose a drug addicted young man for salvation. Me. No reason other than to be a witness in the dock telling such truths.
Look into my eyes as I tell you story after story that excites me. You can tell. I am not delusional nor insane. Look into my eyes again. The steady gaze I have seen from my King with an unbelievable privilege Is in there. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
A sunny morning in winter found me reading in our living room in my favorite chair. An excellent book by Frederick Buechner. His story inspires mine. I was also glancing up and watching fine, powder snow swirl in strong wind just beyond the window on my left.
It was blowing off the barn edges and up on the high hill, obscuring the 40 foot tall pine rows. It was swirling about in a Brownian movement. Circling about itself and appearing as smoke that is mostly seen as driven snow, sleething across a highway
Reading on in Frederick’s book , Listening to your life. I began following the intimate thoughts and loss of dear friends that shared poetry of life with me. An unusual chord progression or high harmonic would engender conversation, long after the shared concerto we were playing, just the two or three of us in a room. Swirling about in delight for us all. Never repeated or written down.
I miss those friends and their instruments that opened from the cases with the snap of clasps. Tuning just a bit with their 12 strings that needed constant attention. My six was in tune before theirs were. We would then start playing, slowly until the tune would catch up with us and akin to the smoky snow swirls, would indeed spin around, settle in a new mound of notes and harmonies never before heard.
As I continued reading I began to see my desire for that engaging and impromptu beauty with dear departed ones. We sat many hours and years together, also impromptu, delightfully just in time for another go at it. We were separated later in life by long lines on a map and later by eternity itself. They are together, waiting for me to join the beauty of music. King David would perhaps join in the jam session on his harp with Asaph with his beauty with words.
A vision brought to me by the gift of a perfect small snow blizzard as I sat near the parlor stove. Looking out our big windows. I could feel that beauty. Never to be repeated as every snow flake is different in uncountable numbers.
I see that hunger for communication now with others, often as old as I am. We wander about in the large parking lots and buildings or even on the opposite sides of gas pumps. There is a sign from each of us as shared events and life experiences that only are remembered by our generations. Duck and cover, the draft and several puzzling wars we all were in. I see them proudly wearing their ball caps usually with Vietnam Veteran on them. A glance and a brief nod of my head is enough for both of us. Adrift and swirling around our world and just needing that high E string tweaked. Harmony and those 12th fret harmonics signaling unity in tune with one another. I miss those friends and I know you still miss someone when all of the love was there.
It was always there. A loss, not even known for what it was. An emptiness that fell upon every thing that I experienced through my life. Empty of love and lost it when I was a child. I weep now when I realize what I felt that time when the emptiness took hold of me. I always thought it was abandonment. A memory that diffused relationship with everyone. I tried to cope with that memory, not even aware I was doing that. Clever words spoken and written. There were many times when that empty feeling would diminish and it was always the same thing. Smiles and words that promise embracing mutual friendship. I needed to forgive the people that it seemed I was abandoned by. My family did not know me nor did I know them. Relatives that should have known those things too. Inherited behavior, perhaps cultural.
“I believe that God’s purpose in giving us memory is to enable us to go back in time so if we didn’t play those roles right the first time round, we can still have another go at it now…finish with the past in the sense of removing it’s power to hurt us and other people” Frederic Beuchner
Music was soothing then and a smile inside at a moments of beauty got me hooked into that beauty. Songs and orchestral creations still work well. I remember some of those songs. that I played. the phrases of praise momentarily fill the emptiness. ”I loved what you did” or sometimes just a few notes spoken of. It always makes the emptiness fade. I still crave approval and contact. Applause was nice but fleeting, Playing Ashokan Farewell on the violin perfectly, without an accompanist on guitar for example. Fulfilling for a moment. List, Chopin and Beethoven are soothing time and again. A perfect den of pleasure, even driving. Alone.
It was a coldness in my very core that drove me to play well, and now, to write well. A romantic spirit. Those moments are when the emptiness would back off. Approval and love of just me. I did not know why those times of contact and praise satisfy. It seems selfish to enjoy a secret pleasure in being alone.
Isn’t it like that for everyone? Seeking smiles and laughter from people and amazingly, an interest in us that might be a friend. There are few friends that I can contact anytime for their care and seeing me and they myself for what we are. An empty man, perhaps like they are. Leaning on one another like an unmovable roof truss. Solid wood. With knot holes and defects but Oak or Gopher wood. A trust able to withstand bad storms.
Many of them are Gone now from the inevitable event we all must experience. They died. How inconvenient of them to do so. I still love them dearly and I know they still do. One close friend appeared to me just as he was dying. He was 2000 miles away, so it figures friendship and love is eternal. I lean on Jesus often, especially when I am desperate.
Most of those friends were the kind we all need. A phone call or even showing up without calling, just showing up. Not even a hint of inconvenience from the open door. “You were in the neighborhood? That’s over a hundred mile trip! Tell me what’s going on, I feel that you need encouragement and a good hug.
The day of the wall phone is gone. Now we have Facebook and posts telling us what’s right with us. All neat and clean without any tears or embraces of understanding. Isaac Asimov’s robots now have cell phones and good internet. We edit conversations akin to open book exams.
The two years of isolation and fear reduced our civilization to rubble. The covid theatre that had bodies piling up that where not there when the curtain was lifted. No smiles seen from anyone. The old game of keep away. A scowl if you were in public without ‘the mask’ The deadly bat flu made it fearful to come near and we were so much poorer, even crippled by it. We all lost and the stats and graphs and zoom meetings were just party favors for the worthless messages of untimely death. It’s always untimely for everyone. We always think we will live forever. That is true but not in the limited way we think of it.
There was enough money generated by the scamdemic to weigh it by the semi trailer load. Easier to count that way There was no one accountable anyway, Not yet.
I an not alone in my quest now. The world needs good friends and we must learn how to do it. Smiles. Waving from the mailbox at the lake people with cabins just over our hill that are seen in season. I have noticed that a slight smile and a nod are beginning to make a difference. Smiles and laughter ring out as bells from the steeple. Come. Gather together and be thankful for blessings and deliverance from evil. Look upon the world as a small child’s smile at an adoring adult. It opens our hearts as we look upon our world. Not through rose colored glasses but with clear vision. We take off the disguise of indifference and reveal ourselves and see.
This is who we were created to be. I’m not afraid of you. It’s civilization 101. I have been hiding for most of my life and I have began to offer myself to my best friend who is nearby. Close as my heart beats in synchrony with His. Asleep while I am dreaming, He tells me stories of romance and adventure.
The creator of us all, different and beautiful. Loved and embraced as we listen and the world becomes pleasant and we enter into the joy of the Lord. Well done good and faithful. Well done.
It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
Photo of my bench on the south hill (the cathedral) built by Soren
Jack gators grace notes 