The Church

Open Windows II

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

As goes a saying, especially in a novel by George MacDonald (At the back of the North Wind), the window in our hearts has to be open for change to enter. Of course, the change has to be done by Adonni. The man of no reputation, the healer and the Abba Father. More on that later.

I used to think that the window was the focus, as could be interpreted in the novel. After all, the North Wind says it isn’t A window, it was Her window. The Holy Spirit’s window.

If the cleanliness of the window was the issue, it would not be good. My heart especially. If you have read a few of these columns over the last few years, you know a bit of my life. Not very sociable is a light term. Speaking of which, another column more recently addressed that issue. Especially church attenders and faithful ones too. Open Windows.

This column is dedicated to the folks that have been attending church for some time, some even since childhood. Deacons, leaders and elders too, attentive and a lot of times, complimenting the Pastor/speaker on their talk. Just say ‘thanks, I needed that’. It’s good, don’t misunderstand me. As had been said by my very closest friend, Julie, “don’t take condemnation”Pay attention to what I am saying without judgment please. It works to think beyond our image of ourselves. Growing up is better and preferred. It’s hard and often embarrassing. We all need to grow, constantly. It’s why we listen.

All this illuminating about scripture can be rather distracting if we are not paying attention to the complete conviction and the very passionate person standing in front of you,saying these important things. It’s not a college lecture on philosophy or metaphysics. It’s not the old Greek style of a famous orator. Taking notes is very good, I do that too. The notes are not the passion. They are to be read now and then. After all , you wrote them for that reason! Just as in school you wrote crib notes for the coming exams. The thoughts of those notes return

‘Watch, look and listen’ just as at a railroad crossing is good advice. If we don’t, it’s easy to get distracted by the speeding train in our minds. “I wonder what’s for lunch?” “That gal I saw in the lobby certainly caught my eye till I remembered God’s word on that!” the worst one for me is “I wonder when church will be over, I’ve got to get some shopping done”

We must open our hearts to what is being said, don’t concern yourself about schedules and perhaps about the dirt on your ‘window’. Throw up the sash and let that cool breeze into your heart. When you start to weep, that is the first sign of successful communication and often, astonishment. Those besides you may ask, “What’s wrong!” The correct answer from me is: “these are tears of joy! I cry at great music too”

A word of caution! Don’t wipe your eyes, just get the run off. Tears are good for you. The Lord says he treasures them for grief and this grief is real. It’s conviction for how short our arrows fall when we think we are making a bulls eye with our life. The voice you hear goes way beyond the speaker in front of you.

Let the transformation begin when our dirty window is even slightly open. It isn’t a window per se, It’s just our guard we have developed to protect our damage and disappointments. Filthy windows, and hard to see into as well. We know the dirt and smudges and they mean nothing to who we are. We are created as one of a kind, a miracle of incredible complexity and unique potential. Throw open the sash and indeed, the tears will flow when truth is heard. We don’t usually hear truth about ourselves supernaturally. It’s pretty good. Norm / Jack

Origins of Thanksgiving

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

The story always starts the same way. A ship, the Mayflower leaves Europe and sails for religious freedom (not to be confused with freedom from religion which came almost 400 years later)

The ship carried 102 passengers and it took over two months to make the crossing. Bad weather and the usual oceanic thrills and danger. They missed their destination at Plymouth (Not Belvedere as has been put forth) They had to sail across Massachusetts bay from Cape Cod a month later.

Those pilgrims consisted of Catholics, Lutherans, Anglicans, Quakers, Presbyterians, Protestants and a few Jews.

There was a genuine deliverance, providential and we are sure, astonishing. Many of the ‘Pilgrims’ as they began to known, died in that first year and in 1621 the first feast began with about 90 of the Wampanoag natives with fish, venison (Five deer) Eels, shellfish, stews, veggies and beer. They fired guns, and drank liquor to seal the treaty of peace.

The treaty lasted till King Phillips war (1675 -1676) when a lot of colonists and natives lost their lives. About 54 years of peace. It was a war between the colonists and indigenous peoples.America’s bloodiest war as 30% of the colonists were killed (2500) and a dozen towns destroyed. About 5000 Wampanoag’s were killed. The head of the natives was Metacong known as Prince Phillip!

The colonists, of course, continued to pray and thank God for provision.

When the American Constitution was enacted in 1798, (221 years ago) Congress left celebrating to the states. Finally on October 3, 1863 President Lincoln proclaimed Thursday November 26th. In 1942 president Roosevelt declared the 3rd Thursday in November to give an extra boost to the merchants for another week of Christmas shopping!

The Thanksgiving holiday 130 years ago had feasts coupled with the Yale vs Princeton football game (1876) In 1920 costumed revelers and Gimbals department store had a parade with Santa Claus. In 1924 the Macy’s parade, also in NYC had huge balloons.

Now the celebration is focused on Intercultural peace, immigrants and home and family.

Canada has their Thanksgiving on the 2nd Monday in October. I began in 1578 for the thankfullness of Milton Frobisher’s surviving. It was on November 6th from 1879 and changed in 1957 to the 2nd Monday in October. 442 years ago. AMAZING.

The turkey is odd, the first presidential ‘pardon’ of a turkey destined for the table was made by President Bush in 1989. It was remanded to a farm to live out it’s life there. Ostensibly uncooked. Who knows how it turns out for a turkey that has a presidential pardon? Which would taste better? A republican or Democratic turkey?

Let us pray for the tradition of thankfulness to engulf our nation and become what it was before we got in the way of a religiously thankful people for deliverance and provision!

It’s Pretty good! Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Hey Preacher Man

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Right out of the gate we start with a startling quote: “It is becoming increasingly obvious that those who avoid the painful encounter with the unseen are doomed to live a supercilious, boring, and superficial life…Pastors who see this feel more like circus directors than leaders to a new life”.

In other words perhaps, a lot of people that attend meetings about spiritual matters about God (out there or up there) instead of God within us, become part and parcel of that superficial life. As I have written before, the casual and totally insipid greeting of “how are you doing” countered with “better than I deserve!” is also boring and superficial. ‘You have no idea of what you deserve” is my immediate thought. Either that greeting is met with confusion or a laugh. I try with “I recognize your voice and your face but not your name.

The name section of my mind was wiped out by the seizures I had years ago and I casually refer to that issue as my rolodex got deleted. ” I’m Larry” is followed by a little laugh and glance elsewhere in the lobby and the encounter can get better or can end right there.

Close encounters of the non kind. (another column observing most of us are trapped in our own little existential world ) It’s easier not to go there. It’s easier to look for that Lazy Boy chair out in the sanctuary and watch the Bible on the cell phone (lighter in many ways and easier to carry) Nothing gets in or out is the lock down. It usually begins and ends with our mind focused on what to say as someone is speaking. I do not listen well, at least I know that.

I so want to get to know people. I like their face and I can see curiosity and perhaps an open depth that is obedient to more. It is reassuring in some way, reassuring that we odd ones do not get past that door. So close! Maybe this time I will find a soul that is curiously seeking. Eager to explore. To hear someone else besides myself. If asked, I will speak of these things and reveal my self. The many self’s that made me who I am this day.

The baby dandled on my mother’s lap, the reclusive and secret sensualist youngster. A reluctant military man. A young drug addict and a seeker of pleasure from women. A hardened and extremely powerful railroad track worker. These are the bodies buried in the family plot but are still within me. I do not live in those bodies any more and can briefly remember some of those things. This is intimacy within myself and can be shared with trust with another. We all have those burial plots.

The invitation to look closer and understand me as I will see who you are in return. Who are you and why are you? It’s a basic question to ask of the One that created us and if I listen quietly, I can hear an answer, in dreams, thoughts and once in a very great while, an audible kiss of the romantic one who created me.

We are told to rise for the intro of the excellent music production and I dutifully get up and instead of singing, open my Bible and read in a Sotto voce voice. Usually, the scripture I randomly pick is in harmony with what is being sung. I do like to sing but after many years of choir and performing, I sing harmony that pleases me. It throws people off nearby. Same phenomenon singing happy birthday. I like the alto/bass parts. It’s hard to sing melody for most, let alone try that with someone next to you going an octave below with a third or fifth.

Eventually, the sermon is presented to the room. No one rises. It is much easier to follow along with Bible in hand and for some, much easier to journal. The pastor/minister/priest gives a dissertation on the scripture at hand, in a few cases with interpretation in original languages. Greek, Hebrew and Latin. I appreciate that, illumination and thought provoking for certain. Exegesis of The Word and the scholarship of seminary shows forth. Brilliant really. It paints pictures in my mind but still does not engender an intimate relationship. That is the next step for me. Asking about life and complex emotions and fears.

If I could read an excellent book about my wife or her reading one about me, Intimacy is not brought forth. Love letters are are in the Bible and that’s what I like. Talking to the one you love and hearing back. An intimate relationship. Everyone loves to get a real letter. Hand written ones especially.

Quite a few times I have heard what I needed to hear. Passion, exhortation to go deep, deeper than we think we can go. Dive into our heart and meet Jesus there. Listen to Him, allow Him to speak and guide us. The ministering gives us the opportunity to move in the waters of life. How deep under the water with Jesus do we want to go? Let that sink in. The minister is not a social organizer, he wants us to awaken to life itself. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

With great thanks to Frederick Buechner, Mark Batterson and Henri Nowen

Synopsis of a Fool on the road to Redemption

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

A recall of my life is now being revealed to me, bit by bit. Indeed all the mistakes, roads taken that had no outlet or were literally dead ends, were there to take me to a place I did not know I was going. This is the reason I was given the opportunity to write this book. I thought it was my idea!

The Author whose books anchor a sagging bookshelf in our library, has given me hope and excitement as he has done for so many. C.S. Lewis. The first name Jessie Seline and I decided on for my Fiddling Gator identity was Jack. {It was Clive Staples Lewis’ nickname.}

So many authors have that first name in fiction writing and Jessie and I decided it was perfect. Punchy like Jack Dempsey. Masculine and only four letters long. It stuck after being known as ‘Mr Gator’ for years. That story comes to light in this book. A simple newspaper article about my role as a judge in a fiddle contest with a cartoon of an alligator, rocking back on his tail. playing the fiddle.

I know, without any doubt, that our Lord Jesus has me on speed dial to my spirit. I did not even know I had a phone like that before others before that have those, taught me how to listen. I listened when I was a big fool and now I am a tool. Those two letters are close on keyboards and are pushed with the left forefinger. Pointing the way to Him.

My counselor, Mr. Beeves, told me he had never met a man with more trauma than I. He also told me it would always be in my mind and would have six tenths of a second to turn off the reaction of fight or flight to perceived new trauma. Recently, I have asked Jesus to have a USB port put into my head and a jump drive with a program to dive deep and encase those memories where they belong. The past. He has recently acquiesced to that request! Very recently. I did not know He could do that or that I could ask. Look for the port if we meet and I will split hairs with you and show it to you.

Go, Set and get ready. Go to Him set your heart before Him and with Him, and you are ready. Stay on that Highway to Holiness, for “the road to hell is an easy slope, soft underfoot with no warning signs” a. I have asked many friends that were near death to meet me as I ‘cross the bar’ to eternity. I saw one of them leave with five words as he disappeared: “It’s better than you said!” It is.

a. C.S. Lewis

Resurrection

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

A synopsis of the four Gospels account of the Resurrection. There are issues with formatting this document I wrote. The numbers one through four indicate the Gospels themselves. The large font and bold names are the book authors after the quotes. Confused? I was too as the accounts differ in the descriptions of events. It is one of the pivotal events in the history of our Universe and so it’s easy to forget details when you are there when it happened. Astonishment seems to be a common thread. Enjoy, I did when I wrote these things down.

  1. Mary Magdalene went out to the tomb early, dark. She saw the stone had been rolled away and ran back to Peter and John and they both ran to the tomb. John outran him and looked in the tomb and saw the linen cloths but did not go in. Peter then came in puffing and, and went into the tomb and saw the cloths and a handkerchief that had been around the Lords head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded together in place by itself. Then John came in and saw (he did not know the scripture that Jesus must rise from the dead.) They went back home. Mary stuck around and looked into the tomb and saw two angels in white, sitting at either end and they asked her why she was weeping…she told them she wanted to know where they laid Him. She turned and saw Jesus and thought he was the gardener. He said “Mary” She knew it was Jesus. “Do not cling to me for I have not yet ascended to my Father” She then went to the disciples and told them He had spoken to her.
  2. JOHN 20.
  3. On the first day, very early they and certain other women and they were perplexed and two men stood my them in shining garments. They bowed their heads to the ground. Those men told them, “why do you seek the living among the dead?”They remembered Jesus’ words about this. They went back and told the 11. Mary Magdalene, Johanna and Mary the mother of Jesus told these things to the Apostles. They did not believe them. THEN Peter ran to the tomb and saw the linen cloths lying by themselves and departed, marveling to himself… Two of ‘them’ were at Emmaus, seven miles away. They talked about things and Jesus drew near, but their eyes were restrained. They told Jesus about the women. They chatted over supper, Jesus broke bread and blessed it and gave it to them and then their eyes were opened, knew Him and He vanished. They went back to Jerusalem and told rest of them about seeing Jesus when He broke bread with them. Then Jesus appeared to them “peace be with you” He showed them His hands and feet and then asked for food. They gave him some broiled fish and honey comb. LUKE 24
  4. When the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome brought some spices. “who will roll away the stone?” Then they saw a young man clothed in a long white robe sitting on the right side and they were alarmed. He calmed them and said to them to tell His disciples and Peter that He is going before you into Galilee and there you will see Him as He said to you. They fled from the tomb and said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. BUT..on the first day of the week, He appeared to Mary Magdalene and she went and told those that had been with Him, mourning and weeping, they did not believe her. The two at Emmaus followed that story line and then then He appeared to the eleven and told them to go out into the world and preach the Gospel. Baptized (or else) cast out demons, speak with new tongues, take up serpents, lay hands on the sick and be immune to poison they drink. Then He ascended and sat at next to God. MARK 16.
  5. After the Sabbath, the two Mary’s came to see the tomb and there was a great earthquake and an angel of the Lord descended from Heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His countenance was like lightening and his clothing was white as snow. The guards shook with fear and became as dead men. But the angel answered to the women, “do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay, and go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead, and indeed He is going before you into Galilee; there you shall see Him. Behold, I have told you” So they went out quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to bring the disciples word. As they went to tell His disciples, behold, Jesus met them saying, “Rejoice!” so they came and held Him by the feet and worshiped Him. Then Jesus said to them, “do not be afraid. Go and tell My brethren to go to Galilee, and there they will see Me.” (As an afterthought), the soldiers reported to the elders and were given a Large sum of money to tell people that the disciples came and stole him away while we slept. If this comes to the governor’s ears we will appease him and make you secure…this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day. Then the 11 disciples went into Galilee to the mountain that He had appointed to them. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him, but some doubted. Jesus told them that all authority had been given to Him from heaven and on earth. “Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you, and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” Amen MATTHEW 28

Thoughts on the Experience of Worship

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

We have all seen the signs at church’s on our drives. Worship at 10. What is that really? How can a church service be also called worship? It would that worship is the most important thing to be conveyed to people driving by, looking for a convenient time to pop in. We know there is teaching or a sermon of some kind. Is that worship? Or is worship singing, music of some kind! Pianos or an organ played by the professional keyboardists?

Memories of a pastor up on the stage, waving his arms, conducting the off key choir of my sister and myself. There, on the solid-tombstone-like sign out by the road, is an announcement of Sunday school. The memories of stiff, starchy shirts and one-day a week shiny black shoes and a suit coat also worn once a week.

Children’s thoughts of school on one of only two days off from ‘regular school’ Incomprehensible words and recitation of forgotten things we were supposed to study quickly on Saturday evening so we looked and sounded perfect. The old flannel graph with cloth cutouts of sheep, shepherds, and Goliath. I did not enjoy Sundays when I was very young.

It was Usually hot in summer and winter and in a basement room with other kids, rolling their eyes at the teacher when she wasn’t looking. The bright side was dinner out at Hart’s with the baked chicken that my Grandpa liked too! The chicken was worth the trip. My only excuse these days for not having a grip on what was being poured into me was the rule we had to be in Sunday school until we were 21. Then we were welcomed into the main church building on the other side of the parking lot.

Now I see what I had not seen in my childhood. Beauty and sermons that take your breath away with the truth of them. The music has the same words. Now with Electric guitars., drums and sound systems that actually work. There is good coffee in the lobby and our friends are there too. There is an eagerness to be with people to experience the Lord and His words. Love letters, scripture. I sing the notes I hear, always have heard. Sometimes I sing Harmonies which can puzzle nearby worshipers. I can tell and so I get back onto the main octave and notes. It’s fun for me to sing loud because the music is loud too.

Not long ago I was joined to a Christ centered music team that sang love songs to the Lord. We traveled a lot and sang at many houses of prayer in Minnesota and Wisconsin. We even had the grace given to sing at Times Square Church in New York City. There was no one else in there but the janitor who let us in. I like to impress people when I mention that event till it comes down to the empty church bit. None of them are empty though are they?

Photo by Hudson McDonald on Pexels.com

That music starts a life of its own and a path opens up. And so goes the romance of all loves. The love that lasts. The sound of the best sunset you can ever remember. A realization that nothing else even comes near.

How it feels to touch the heart of eternity. Waiting with hushed voices at times, glancing side to side to see that Man that is there. The Man with fire in His eyes. Musicians and scholars seeing for the first time the bridegroom. The singers sing and the scholars dig into old languages, seeking the reason for this romance. The focus. The looking glass of a telescope fixed on light that is impossibly old.

On our side of eternity it seems like the flame on a guttering candle. No one can see what you can see, no one can sing what you can sing. There is no one like Him so open up your eyes and see. Getting to the place where our souls can rest while the fires are banked and steam is rising. A sharp intake of breath. Astonishment and once again time starts anew. The worship, akin to David’s worship in the wilderness or the 40 years of Israel in the desert.

Quite a few times at the end of a session of several hours there is hushed singing with no instruments. The team can hear others from the room also softly singing. They finally stop and there is a feeling that comes to that you can’t lie down and you can’t stand. Absolute silence in the room that is radiating Jesus’s presence. Stunning joy with some tears. People are baptized with John’s water and the Word must be baptized with fire to go into our hearts. A blazing bush drew Moses and a blazing church will draw the world. Music and the truth of scripture are the kindling and you are the fuel that responds to the flames of love coming forth.

“Every poet and musician and artist, except for Grace, is drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to the love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him.” a.

a. C.S Lewis the great divorce

It’s pretty good. Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

An Old Fashioned Cell Phone That needs no Contact Numbers

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was over a half century ago that I began contacting strangers and having meaningful conversations with them. It was safe as I was doing it with my ‘Ham’ radio with both Morse code and vocal techniques. It began in early Junior high when electronics took a hold of me and as a very shy and reclusive child I was attracted to actually talking to someone that was interesting and listened to me.

I managed to randomly speak with foreign people from half way around the planet at rare times and all over our country if I planned the time, position of the frequencies that would ‘bounce’ off of the upper atmosphere. Usually from 20 to 10 meter wavelengths. Sun spots were an annoyance and disrupted the ‘skip’ from the heavy side layer. Radio signals would skip in a wave form all around the place when the situations were right. I remember the night when a radio operator in Russia answered my query for a ‘chat’ The signal was a repeated two letters “CQ” Seek you. Asking for someone far away you added the suffix DX which means distance in radio lingo. Lots of those acronyms still linger. 73’s means good bye and 88’s means love and kisses. QSO means conversation. Cops still use some of these.

I became a fulfilled recluse in my bedroom and became bolder at speaking to total strangers.

Now, things with radio seem very old fashioned. The visions of families glued to their RCA console radios, listening intently to sports activities from Olympic competitions across the world. This has recently been illustrated in the movie ‘Boys in the Boat’

It was exciting and there were no distractions of costuming, personality announcers on the video streams and of course, advertising ‘breaks’ Television has reduced excitement of real time news with entertainment and advertising splash. Not to mention some of the obscene links on the webstream news links. Very distracting on not in real time either. Breaking news of scandal real or invented. Who knows?

You can find those old wood console radios in second hand stores. Sometimes the filaments will glow from the tubes on the chassis in the back filled with primitive electronics when you plug them in. Big capacitors and transformers. Older than the stuff on Apollo 1. If you can rig up a decent ‘long wire’ antenna, you will actually get reception! Those radios were the center piece in living rooms across the country and now, as antiques, they still are. Especially if they still work. The speaker(s) were pretty big (JBL 15”) and the sound is pretty decent too. Usually only AM radio is available. FM (frequency modulation) and SSB (single sideband) came later. Ask me to explain those terms if you want. Electronic geeks like hams, love to talk about just anything about their hobby. Most of it indecipherable by everyone else.

This training in talking to absolute strangers and has stayed with me and makes it natural for me to talk with check out clerks, people at shoe stores or just someone that smiles from the easy stroll we both are taking down the small town street. At church, the common reasons were are asking them if they or I can pray together is usually pleasantly surprising. It is a position I now hold in a very large church (2000 + attenders and staff). I arrive early so that it is easy to meet and greet staff and volunteers getting ready for the day. I am right where I have been led to be since I was 12 years old. What a coincidence or was it a plan all along? Who designs those plans is a good question too. Ask me sometime and we will have a good QSO.

It’s been pretty good. Norm Peterson K0JMV /Jack Gator

picture of ham radio shack courtesy of KB1SF

Dancing Alone, Written During the Covid Debacle

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

I wrote and copy-wrote a song decades ago when I thought the world was my burger to devour (with fries) and songwriting and performing were my destiny. Only the title of the song now makes perfect sense in the situations we have found ourselves in. Anxiety, fear and restlessness abound.

{Dancing alone.} The original column was written during the Covid19 scare and so called pandemic. Most of us remember the dystopian and totalitarian government actions during that time. The death tolls were not even close to the Spanish flu. None of the draconian measures worked. Masks, isolation, closing everything except for big box groceries and bars. The vaccine did not work either. What a disaster.

We were indeed dancing about. Whizzing down the road, against all declarations of our leaders.

Going somewhere, anywhere, just to once again be free to go somewhere. It didn’t work. Coming home to safety without the plague hitchhiking on us, we did the usual things. Make supper, get the parlor stove laid in and lit. Do the family business out in the shop, get ready for planting and go to one of the few shops down the road deemed necessary by the government. What? We can’t gather with our friends and worship the living God?

We can’t, we can’t, we should not. We are in danger, we are all in danger under a death threat as is the whole planet. Inconceivable! But we accede and say, As you wish. Those who resisted and kept their restaurants open were prosecuted and fined an absurd amount. Especially in Minnesota.

I felt so much disconnect with almost everyone on the planet except a handful or so. The imposed oddness, the imprisonment before imminent execution as we read about in scripture and history. The comfort of my cell, even driving in our car. A cell with bars, not bars of signal from Verizon

I felt the shrug of being rapidly passed. Don’t look at me, don’t get close to me. The hurtling shopping carts filled with toilet paper. Don’t don’t don’t. Please wear a disguise around your face for I know you fear me as I fear you.  Social distancing which our head of CDC at the highest level told us was useless and just made up. Six feet apart. Six feet under. Make your choice while fully masked. The masks were ridiculous and actually caused carbon dioxide buildups and not prevent a 5 micron virus with the 24 micron mask materiel used. Fake news? Reality? The Matrix is a documentary, I just heard it on Fox News.

 Shop till you drop dead and we’ll send the wooden cart for you. Wear the white or yellow or blue mask, it won’t help. Those helped you feel how I felt about you. Isolated and confused. Fearing the plague.

With due reverence, but very plainly, let it be said that God can do nothing for the man with shut hand and shut life. There must be an open hand and heart and life through which God can give what He longs to. An open life, an open hand, open upward, is the pipe line of communication between the heart of God and this poor be-fooled old world.

…S.D. Gordon (1859-1936), 

I am stretching out, looking fondly upon memories of freedom I fought for in the military. My leaders for this time are many and none of them make any sense to me. It is a dream forgotten as I stumble in the dark at 1 in the morning to the bathroom. Walk back to bed and actually try to remember the power and lack of it in my dream. It’s gone with a few remembered scenes. A mission of sorts, confusion and almost palpable in my real life.

The blue pill or the red pill. Got to remember at least to take my pills in the morning. I look upon my desk when I awaken later and cast my eyes upon books, journals and the book with all the answers if I would just open it and read. Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong, we are weak but He is strong.

Indeed, I am not dancing alone. I am never alone and David knew this as he danced before the King of Kings thousands of years ago.

It’s pretty good, Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

Letter Writing and Reading

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

There is a loss in our communities that seems like a gain! The texting phenomenon has made writing letters obsolete and to many, cheaper and faster. Pen and Ink started to loose ground when the typewriter was introduced. The expense of ink wells, and ink stains was replaced with typewriter ribbons and skill.

I learned to touch type in the military and I got fast. Electric typewriters and carbon paper worked well. With top secret letters there were no carbon copies allowed. Now there is a new skill, typing on the screen of a cell phone. I have not embraced typing with both thumbs while holding a phone. I am fascinated and irritated at our civilization that has become hunched over while walking or standing, holding ‘the phone’ and writing and reading letters of sorts. Texting along with fun emojis and video clips. How about a three pound Bakelite model? I remember our bag phone and of course, my hand held Amateur radio. The ham radio did not need a phone number to talk to someone. A call sign worked but many times the beginning message was; CQ anyone there?

What I am getting around to is the act of writing and reading. Sitting down quietly while doing so.

I love to write and these columns are much easier to type with Word Press as it checks my spelling and syntax as I type. I have a short term memory issue, often real short time when I am physically writing a word and leave off a letter and skip on to the next one. Leaving off a vowel for instance. I can see my mistake and the software catches it and shows it to me. But that is a byline for this column, I revere actual writing with pen or pencil and using a stamp and an envelope to have USPS deliver my letter.

The major point is keeping in touch, not speedily but with intent beyond the rush of our current lives. “Rushing in not from the devil, it Is the devil” I believe that impatience is included. C.S. Lewis

I have sent a few letters lately to some friends. Some of which I have not seen nor heard from in decades. Several of them have never been answered although I know they were received because they were not returned with address unknown or such postal information. Phone calls work too but we are usually in a rush and an unexpected phone call from a friend of years past is surprising and hard to respond to if you are driving or setting down to lunch in a cafe. I like re-reading and even have a manila envelope for personal letters. It’s good. Phone numbers are passe. There used to be a book called a phone directory. They were hanging by a chain in phone booths. The is no cell phone directory hanging there.

Is there someone you send letters to and wonder if they will ever answer? There is also a very important type of letter that is spoken in private! These letters are referred to as prayer. It’s just me and the Lord alone and I tell Him how things are going and ask questions and have requests too. If my heart is calm and I am speaking in truth and love, I know my prayer is being heard. Peaceful and knowing and feeling His presence.

Often it seems my prayers have not been answered. The way I wanted them to be. Healing, provision for me or someone else. There is also the conversion to faith of someone that I have known a long time or just met. Evangelism. God hears these requests and stretches out his mighty arm and strong right hand and fulfills that prayer. Instantly in many ways we do not see and is always a perfect response from Him. Prayer is essential for all of us. Letters to the lover of our souls.

Someone obviously prayed for me to reach out to Christ, years ago, decades. It happened just the way it was supposed to happen. Why did it take so long? I have no idea and there is no answer until I read the book about me that no one this side of eternity can read. As C.S. Lewis says: “Every chapter is better than the last one you read”

“What is truth?” An old question that goes back to Mars Hill in Greece. Also the original question in the garden. “Did god really say?” Also the question that Pilate asked Jesus a few thousand years back. Jesus did not answer as the Truth was standing right in front of Pilate.

He knew this question of all philosophers as an educated citizen of Rome. Pilate spoke and wrote in Greek, Latin and Hebrew. He wrote the sign above Jesus on the cross. In those 3 languages.A letter posted for all to see throughout history. ‘Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews’ . Some of the locals disagreed and Pilate said what I have written stands.

The very gift of God will be all we need to keep sending those prayers/letters to him. I know so little of these things but I rely on that gift that gives me peace and confidence that my prayers are heard. Faith.

Do you ever wonder what happens when someone you know or someone you just met, says “I’ll pray about it” Do we follow through? I used to fudge it and forget the promise within a short period of time. Those four words were a dismissive phrase for me. Not anymore. I am growing up and taking responsibility for my life and the things I say and do. There is so little time left for me, and for you.

I was on an official Prayer team at a very large church that seats over 2000 people and we were told to stand in front of them just as the service had ended and with lanyards that said prayer, be available to anyone that came ahead. I loved it. Many times no one came, but the few that did are sharp in memory.

I had to be vetted and interviewed to be on that team and that is very correct to do so. You can surmise the interviews that took place. The teams prayed a lot and I learned how to do so from them.

I am now in production at that church, media, and I also love that. Presenting the songs to the room as messages of praise to the Lord right then and there. The professional musicians know that it is much more than having a good time or playing a good song. We all sing with them and we get to touch eternity.

It’s pretty good. Norm/ Jack

Jump in the Water

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

“Let’s go down, come on down, let’s go down to the river to Pray” 1.

How many decisions do you make in a lifetime? How many in a day? How about right here, right now? Life seems to be mostly decision making. All the little things we have to constantly consider. Where, what and how mostly.

The very important decisions can be interesting. Myself, I was given an interesting decision problem five decades ago. I made the right decision because I am still alive. Things like that leave an impression on us. “Are you serious?” Some decisions are not deal breakers, they are quite simple and are mostly easy to make as well.

A few decades ago, I was given the choice to be Baptized. I was what is called ‘New in the faith’ up to that choice, I wanted to be just like God and be my own man. Just look into my heart and obey what I thought was right. Of course, I was desperately wicked as are all of us. I didn’t have a clue about those things of trust, faith, grace and repentance.

The pastor that came to minister to my dying mother spoke to me instead of her because she had died the night before his appointment. We sat at the kitchen table when he came and he asked me questions about life. I spoke of Gandhi and Buddha and all the rest. He then asked me it wasn’t about them. it was about me. He gave me a C.S. Lewis book, (Mere Christianity) and I read it. It read it a lot. It’s one of my ‘go to books’

Julie and I began attending his church that weekend and they did a funeral with all the trimmings for my mom with no charge. They even lit a candle every Sunday for a month for her. It was astounding and humbling. Not what I expected after some ‘bad’ experiences with the church in general. Usual things we go through as broken people resenting anyone that tells us there is a mending to that brokenness. “Sure, easy for you to say.” Etc. Not really understanding that narrow walk. An iron worker 50 stories up on a big I beam, just walking. What if I go off the path? “The wrong path is soft underfoot, an easy incline with no warning signs.” 2.

That Christmas I was at a cantata in a very local church and as the choir sang ‘Mary did you know’, I was stunned by a man in the choir who spoke the words of the song. Did you know, that those tiny hands flung the stars into the sky. I did not believe in evolution and said to myself, someone had to do it! The song went on and I began to cry. “It’s all true, it’s all true” I then knew Jesus was Lord of all and have never turned back since that time.

A while later, Julie was out walking on our road, up the hill from our mailbox and the Lord spoke to her about being baptized. When she shared it with me, it seemed like a good thing to do. Infant baptism just not adequate for her and thinking about it, not for me either. I was whisked away as a baby by my Uncle and baptized in Duluth. It seemed to not be my decision at that time. We felt that Baptism falls a little short of John’s style. “Repent and be Baptized” Was a breath of sweet air when Julie said that and we agreed together to do so. We both had a few things to repent of. So the Methodist camp where Julie and I had our first romance (Spirit Lake) was the place where we went to be Baptized. Friends came and we put agates in our pockets to give them as mementos. They stood and watched us as we were baptized good and thoroughly.

Pastor Barry did our Baptisms differently. He had never done a full immersion baptism before. He dunked us three times. “For the Father.. for the Son.. and for the Holy Spirit.” I was down on that perfect sand bottom and saw him above in the clear water. When I came up I knew he was looking right at me the whole time. I asked him, “what did you see when you were looking at me?” “A dead man” he replied.

I came up somewhat wet and let go of my nose. Then Julie and I started giving the agates from our pockets to our friends on the dock. They were beautiful as they glistened and we burst out saying because they have been in the water with us and we are clean too.

That was the beginning of a new us, especially a new me. I needed to die and it was a long process and still is. I am getting better as are we both. No longer dead inside but open to our King and Savior as he began breathing life in us. It’s not an instantaneous change because we have to listen and learn from Jesus and read the instruction manual He has graciously given us.

We are learning, every day it seems. Loving God and ourselves as his own and then loving all those people he gives us to love. The neighbor thing to say it, a lifetime to learn. Akin to washing one’s hands in a way. Scrubbing and washing clean. There are many things in our lives that pivot around those those words Jesus gave to us: “Love one another as I have loved you” The love your neighbor as you love yourself was stymied until I forgave myself and began loving my life with the Lord. He started it and He will complete it! Now I know how good it is.

The simplest and hardest thing for me to do. Every day, if I listen well and surrender myself to Him, He guides me to this new life. Jump in the water and it ain’t no trouble if you can, walk on the water. He offers his strong right hand and His mighty arm to us and lifts us out of death into life.

One day in Kansas City, I was sitting in a prayer room, waiting to be prayed over for my strained leg. I had a clear vision as I dozed off to beautiful live worship music. Jesus appeared to me and we were swimming together with a side stroke. “I know you love to swim, do you want to go down? You can breathe down there.” How deep is it? I asked. He replied “How deep do you want to go?” I awakened, healed and started dancing a little for the group waiting to pray for me. I told them I wanted pray for them. “Sure, come on in!” ‘Jump in the water, got no trouble if you can, walk on the water‘ Michael Mayor

It’s pretty good. Jack Gator Scribe

1. Old spiritual song; ‘Down to the river to pray’ Picture courtesy of Arron Dahl

2. C.S. Lewis the great divorce