It was a hard morning to get ready for a 30+ mile drive south. It was early, Jack’s coffee was getting cold and he was getting cold as well. It was still dark and he was getting depressed. It was from fear of the world’s ways and loss Jack was seated in the impossible heavenly beauty and renewed and encouraged once again. The usual triggers that affect us: Checking account down under a C note, bills creating a breeze magnet on the table and prices getting into the ridiculous range at the grocery stores. Six bucks for a somewhat light loaf of bread? It must be organic, Vegan and sort of good for you if you like that sort of thing.

It is not good for anyone in the family to concentrate on those negative things, let alone the destruction of our state and country. Demented teachers running hard after perversion and seduction of children that, impossibly, seem paramount to the education agenda. No one Jack talks to has the slightest interest of those ideas, incredulous of how such a thing has happened.

Certainly the striped and incorrect depiction of our flag folks will respond to the above short paragraphs. Jack has strong memories of being underway on his Navy ship, flying the flag night and day. With a strong light upon it. The real flag, Superman’s flag of “ Truth, Justice and the American way” Not indoctrination, brain washing and the Orwellian ways. No one Jack meets, casual or acquaintances, has any truck with this nonsense. It’s the rural life of family, neighbors and reality.

It was time for the ritual which Jack’s youngest son enjoys. Laying out his coffee equipment before he awakens. Thermos, sugar and long stirring spoon. Turning on the Keurig and holding the storm door open for him (from the outside to clear his load of lunch, motorcycle helmet and warm jacket.) Then standing on the porch that faces the driveway to wave him off. It is a family tradition. If he is driving his car, he keeps the dome light on briefly so I can see him waving back. I watch till he turns north at the end of the ¼ mile driveway.

The parlor wood stove is now working well with new firebricks and angle/strap supports. All installed by the youngest and oldest sons. They welded, ground brick to fit and cleaned and got filthy in the process. It works so much better. Warmth in later fall is welcome and secure feeling.

And so there Jack sat, in his chair in the dark living room of early morning. Holding his coffee, he looked up at the library walk and above it at the big half round window. This morning, it was perfectly aligned just for Jack, showing his favorite constellation, Orion. His belt and his sword clear and the words came loud and clear . “He made me alive, when I was dead and he raised me up and seated me with Christ. And it’s by His grace that I am saved and it’s through faith, the very gift of God.”

Even though Jack walks through the valley of death again there is a calm that quickly settles over him.

Once again, Jack knows His creator is smiling at him and the ‘coincidence’ perfectly arranged to show Jack he is seen and loved. The message is clear to Jack. Jesus is with him and sees all the trepidation and troubles of Jack’s life. “This time too, it will be OK” Just as the way the Lord has used his power and audible voice to literally save Jacks life several times. This time the Lord of Lords is with Jack. It is not the book of Job, It is the new Testament books of Jesus healing and loving that are reflected in that window. High above Jack and in the darkness. Mr Gators family is seen and they are not alone.

It’s pretty good, Jack Gator

There is a strong tendency among men to jump into action. An immediate thought of doing, something, anything that will show the way we feel. An action defined by using our strength or resources to accomplish the task that seems to fit the bill. Demonstrating commitment or love to the world at large or a small piece of it.

Jack felt he was really getting through to his family, especially his wife, when he would do something on her behalf. Fixing something, maybe even a meal or a surprise action or gift. It wasn’t enough. That is Jack’s love language. Jack would wonder what he did wrong and why if it felt so good to him, why it didn’t last or feel the same to someone else. There was something missing in Jack. He didn’t listen to her, he listened to himself.

There is a short piece in the Bible (have patience now, this is important) that the most important thing we can do is love our Lord with all our strength, spirit and mind. That’s the first part of two. The second part is a lot like it.

Love your neighbor as yourself. It’s like an instruction manual with only two things to do to find fulfillment, peace and romance. The simple part of any instructions, you have to do them in order. You cannot build a house without first laying a foundation. You cannot lay a foundation without preparing the place. Before that is perhaps the architect’s plan and so forth. There is always a sequence to building and it starts with a vision.

Where does that vision come from? And why does it fit in with your life? Did we do the first thing first?

There is a very old piece of wisdom which Jack has mentioned before. It’s from the Jewish Talmud and it is a conversation between a Rabbi and Elijah the Prophet. The Rabbi complains that the Messiah has deceived him for not showing up that day when He said He would. Elijah laughs and says, “ He didn’t say He was coming, He said to listen” And so, we make the same mistake, over and over again.

We jump right into the second part of Jesus’ explanation of all of scripture, of all the prophets to love our neighbor. But again, we gloss over the first command which is Love Him. All of us. All of who we are.

There is no shortcut to loving by going to work. Jack has experienced this in several ways. He was a part of a ministry in Lino Lakes called, ‘God’s grease Monkeys’ This must be a calling for me! Thought Jack.

Jack was sort of on board with this Loving God but he wasn’t waiting for that still, small voice of his Lord. He thought he was on the right track, seemed logical. Jack grabbed tools and showed up, even recruited a some good friends. The ministry was not where Jack needed to be. He didn’t listen for that quiet voice.

Now, the same thing happens when Jack tries with works of sacrifice to show his wife his love. He doesn’t listen to her as she wants him to listen and not rush into talking or doing. Just listen. That’s how the house is built. Not buying 2 by 4’s when we think that’s all that is needed. Listen and hear well. All of Jack’s heart, soul and mind. Love his Lord first by listening to him. He will show Jack how to listen to others and understand their voice. It’s hard a lot of the time, but it’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Jack, awakened from sleep by a lightning storm, rose and began typing this story. The story. We all have them. These days, fascination with heroes and villains and other’s stories given to us by actors and people we have never met, give us an excursion into a falsehood of story. Illusions of post modernism, to replace our own. Our own valid stories that get buried in entertainment and the latest gladiator. We are lost and adrift on a wave tossed sea, all the while believing in a screen writers fancy with words or a man that can do things we cannot. Adopting a cheap and false story that we believe we need.

Jack, fully awake now, remembers his story of adventure, loss, romance and treachery. It seems like a good plot for one of those movies. Instead of being prepared by strong men, Grandfathers and fathers, it was a familiar story now for many of the worlds lost children.

Jack’s last memory of his Grandpa was the man, lost in dementia, peeing on the living room curtains while Jack was in the basement, living in his mother’s inherited house. Fresh out of the 6^th fleet. Now replacing the sounds of creaking metal and rushing waves with a washing machine and Grandpa’s old Chevy in the garage. No love lost either. An elder that should have taught Jack a carpenters trade. He didn’t know that was his life work, to love Jack.

Jack made his own way, creating his own stories of adventure. More akin to a brigand or a pirates desperate bid for value and purpose. Smuggling, guns and carefree use of narcotics without the age old, correct up bringing of being the village carpenter. Cabinetry and a small farm. Middle ages security and an inheritance for Jack’s children. A firm belief in the giver of life and the yearly cycle of Advent and celebrations of rescue from our Lord.

Rescue indeed. Jack’s heart had turned to stone when he was ten. His father had left and his mother’s lover had moved in. He was a Swedish immigrant and the reason his father left. There was a honeymoon planned and it was to be a trip to the old country across the sea. The plan was for Jack to stay at the Grandparent’s home in Golden Valley during the honeymoon. Jack came home from school and could not find Timothy, his beloved cat that slept with him. His mother came home and told Jack his Grandfather had killed the cat because it would not work for them when Jack stayed at their home. Jack began to ideate suicide, he learned how to tie a hangman’s noose. To firmly set that Stone heart, there was no honeymoon and the Step father stopped in Jack’s room one night and sat next to Jack on the bed, naked. Jack leaped up and ran out the outer door of his room to the garage. Screaming in fear and rage.

Jack’s heart was set on survival mode. There was no lighthouse on that stone. For seventy years. Last night as Jack prayed for direction for the next day, Jesus asked Jack if he would like to have a heart of flesh. Again, tossing and turning with the storm raging outside the house and inside Jack the promise of life started to take hold. The small changes Jack has been experiencing were now brought to light. Small cracks of that chosen stone revealed earlier that something was going on. The heart transplant was revealed and Jack wanted it to happen right away, that night. It was also given to Jack to begin the forgiveness of those two men. Not instantly but now the compass was seen and the course set. Next port of call, freedom from hatred and fear.

“He made me alive, when I was dead. He raised me up and seated me with Christ. It’s by His Grace that I am saved and it’s through faith, the very gift of God” (Justin Rizzo) Jack’s savior knows betrayal and forgiveness for men do not know what they are doing. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator