Photo of a Father and Son teaching at Wood Lake Bible Camp, five miles north of us. [Bjorn and myself}
And they work together. Father and Son, as it has always been throughout time. Agrarian towns scattered over the countryside. Dad on the old A and his son right behind him on the big levers and adjusters for the plow or side mower.
Teamwork with the ages that is still among us. Young Harley, Davids son manufacturing motorcycles and many such business throughout the world. There are good odds that you are one of those Father and Son enterprises.
There is a business that my Son and I work at now. He has the training to be a full time director of media production and I am in training to be his assistant. It’s fast paced and like many jobs I have had, it’s a dance. Whether you are assembling something together, playing ensemble or flying, it’s satisfying and joyful to be working together. It’s perhaps akin to a ballet.
There is a Father and Son who work together that is a perfect example for all of us. They confer together and in every instance of their work, there is always consensus. The Son listens to the wisdom of his father and the work they do is nothing short of a miracle. They also have a third person of the family that is a communicator between them and us. You can use His name too if you like.
You know them, you talk a lot to them and sometimes we get confused as which one we are talking to. Thanks OK, they don’t mind. They have many names and all of them work pretty well. The names most often used are in our instruction manuals we keep near us. I loose the ones for appliances and such but I always have a manual for those three. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Have a nice talk with them and be sure to pay close attention to the wisdom and guidance they will give you. Listening really helps.
As mentioned in Sky Palace 1,there is nothing in the Bible that tells us what eternal life is like except for the ‘room’ prepared and the presence of Jesus. As a people with imagination and a hope of continuing some version of our earthly life, we create heaven to suit us. No one has the full picture, for obvious reasons. The price of admission is death and only once I was given a small review by my dear friend at the moment of his death. He appeared for a few seconds and said; “It’s better than you said!” A message from his wife confirmed the time.
Why was I given this very rare gift of seeing and hearing a friend entering paradise?
What did I tell him? Whatever it was, it fell short of what happened and I am excited about that for me. Not my first choice right now, but a reality for my future which is very soon according to scripture. Our life here is just a vapor. There is usually enough time to make some decisions about our eternity.
One of my favorite authors wrote a short story about his vision of that decision and the veil lifted when entering in to forever life, better than we can imagine. The story is called “The Great Divorce” by C.S. Lewis. I recommend this short read.
Why would anyone prefer the Christian viewpoint of life, the universe and everything (Douglas Adams) We all have ‘the question’ of what’s the point? [another recommended book, “What’s the point?” by Misty Edwards.]
What indeed is the reason for our existence? Evolution can’t give us any answer, It’s the impossible religion of life’s meaning. . Embrace it and indeed it will be ‘dust to dust’. As I mentioned before in part I, none of the other religions offer anything but a child’s imagination to that deepest question of our heart. I am aware of the mention of an answer to that question and it is found in the most popular and well read book on the planet: The Bible. From Genesis to Revelation, all the words in it tell us over and over again about a savior who has many beautiful names, the most recognized is Jesus. No chapter and verse need be mentioned because scripture is rich with names and descriptions of this Man who is, impossibly, God as well.
The revelation that this man knows everything in my heart is almost too intimate and shameful to bear. The realization that at my deepest, I am not nice, not pleasant beneath my public face is universal truth. Look in your heart and be truthful to yourself. There are thoughts and actions and desires hidden, even from ourselves! The evil and wickedness of the world is not ‘them’. In the wise words of a cartoon character, Pogo: “I have met the enemy and it’s us”
The miracles that happened when Jesus asked for them are stunning and impossible. Does anyone know somebody that raised a man dead three days to life? He Turned the world upside down with more incredible acts and words than are possible for only a ‘good teacher’ or as some say, ‘just a man’. At His execution by torture, a Roman officer suddenly stated; “Surely this man was the son of God” Why was this statement made and recorded? Jesus being baptized by John with the audible words as Jesus came up from the water; ‘This is my Son in whom I am well pleased’
Or ,how about the thief on the next cross asking for remembrance when Jesus came into HIS Kingdom? That thief was granted forgiveness on the spot for his simple heart statement. I am stating recorded words from many authors before and after the life of Jesus of Galilee.
My favorite quote is when King David was given the vision of his future great great… grandchild Jesus. 14 generations away. It’s Psalm 110 “Yahweh said to Adoni, sit at my right hand and I will make your enemies your footstool”. Take it and embrace it or argue it away. Life or death, your choice. Always is, always will be. Track me down if you want and I will tell you the the truth, I don’t create truth, it just is.
There is one word we use more than any other in our speech. It is related to everything we do as well. The Latin word is Tempus. Time
Think about it if you have the time. What time is it anyway? Did you set the timer?
No time like the present. Time is money. It was just his time. Time’s a wasting. About time!
Try it some time and see how long you last before using the word. I was lap swimming the other day and usually start by counting the laps and then at the far end of the pool, there is a big clock on the wall. I can see how much time I have left before I have to get out. There is another clock in the locker room to make certain I leave before ‘times up’ and the lifeguard ducks her head in the entry door asking if there is anyone there. I got out on time today. She has a rigid time schedule too.
Driving home it seemed I was not at the right speed for the cars and trucks behind me. The biggest dial in front of me points out how much time would elapse with the formula for velocity coupled with time (MPH). I am always being passed at all times, it seems that most drivers are out of time and concerned they will not get to where they need to be at the correct time. Deer collisions, accidents while not passing at the right time, or driving by a squad at one of those times are secondary concerns.
I volunteer as an assistant director at a big church and over my comm I announce the next shots that need to be taken for the video to be dynamic and follow the time signature. It helps the director to put the shots in the video mix. It takes more time to explain than when it occurs. Seconds to the next take. It’s critical to the timing to tell the operators where they should be and giving them about two measures or so before the shot is ‘taken’ by the the director. Like a video ballet, and if the timing is right, seamless and pleasing to people in the audience. Setting up the shots along with who is playing at the right time. I particularly like the shots of the keyboard and hands just when that slower part happens. Excellent music is, of course, timeless. While the band is playing, there are very large screens that show the ‘ballet’on each side of the ballet. It really helps ‘tell the story’ No one sees us and they shouldn’t even be aware of us. (see men in black productions)
Speaking of music, there is a song on an album done by Pink Floyd that is still one of the top songs searched on the internet. The Album is ‘Dark side of the Moon’ and the title of the famous song is, of course, Time. It’s in F#minor. I myself like the rototoms in the rhythm with the clock sounds
In medieval times, the town clock would ring often at 8am, noon and 6pm to remind the townsfolk it was time to pray. Good idea to pray, I did while I was doing my swim today and realized how locked in I was by my time, the time, all time and began to relax and not worry about what the clock said. It’s hard to do but it seemed to start making a difference in me. I was talking to our Lord just before I sat on the edge of the pool and He said these things to me. Read all about Him from the first words of scripture: ‘In the beginning’ that’s when He invented time. There is eternity, and time is just for us to measure the seasons and our heartbeats. How old are you? Isn’t it time to eat? Stop watching your watches and perhaps you will see what I am saying to you. ” Can we talk?” I’ll make the time. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator
A very old story from the Desert Fathers describes a priest from Armenia , Ethymius the Great who lived to be 95 and died in 373 A.D. He was known to make baskets and supported the poor.
As he went to the market to sell some small articles (perhaps baskets he wove) he met a crippled man on the roadside. He was asked a favor by this man to carry him to town and he proceeded to sell his baskets after he set the man down. He sold everything and each time he returned to the crippled man, the man asked him how much money he had acquired and then asked him to buy him a cake and other things each time. He then asked this priest for another favor, “carry me back to where you found me” He did so and then the man told him “You are filled with Divine blessings, in Heaven and Earth” Lifting his eyes, Ethyminus did not see the man but an Angel of the Lord.
This story stuns me with the truth of carrying one another’s burdens. Instead of just saying “gosh, that’s too bad” and ending a conversation, there is much more to this carrying. How many times I have ignored what immediately fills my spirit and mind and moved on. Once in a while, I am reminded by that still, small voice we all know to stay or return and listen. Listening is the key to it all. After all, if a man in his late 80’s can carry a man to market, I can at the very least listen!
I must overcome my eagerness to get to the next assignment I have in my mind. Get those hose clamps and then stop to purchase orange juice, a small pie and some English cucumbers for supper along with other ingredients. “Gosh, that sounds bad for you, I gotta run, I’ll see you later” Or usually never again if that person is a stranger to you. Sound familiar?
Think carefully on the book of Galatians where it says “carry one another’s burdens” How is this done? Just like crossing a set of railroad tracks! Stop, look and listen. Stop and look at them, Listen to their stories. See what immediately comes to mind to help carry their burden, even if it isn’t convenient to your time, thought or wallet. They are just as valuable as you are. Precious created people just as you are. They are right were they are supposed to be as are you. The train rushes by and you are stopped. It’s as though the train suddenly stopped and the conductor stepped down and waved you over to park your car and climb aboard.
“There is someone on board you need to meet” the conductor says to you.
Maybe the suddenness would prompt you to do so. Maybe. I have been asked three times sometimes by that conductor to come and see and often reluctantly did so.
It’s not immediate to me but it’s good and I’m learning to listen more often and pause for that quiet voice to say something back. Whatever it is. The key is bearing with the life’s troubles that you are faced with every day an whether it is your troubles or anthers, to listen to our creator and follow Him. He knows these things and He knows you, personally. Listen and the decision you make is the freedom you are given to choose the path before you. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator.
And there I was, with a dual citizenship of a prayer volunteer and a media volunteer. I thought I was going to do something else and moved my ‘vocation’ or calling to another location so I could pray for musicians that pray with their music. Vocation comes from the the word Vocare which means To Call. It’s not a career. A doctor who has a career has first been called.
If we have found the peace that passes all understanding and can wait patiently, we will indeed be called. In the waiting room in hospitals, we wait to be called. That is somewhat similar, although we do not sit and wait for 30 years or so in that room, reading magazines that are not to our liking. I have been ‘called’ many times in my life and often it was after waiting a while. More than 30 years actually. I moved about a bit however and did do a lot of reading. I was waiting for Vocare and I did not know that.
Student, laborer, Naval radioman, movie projectionist, musician, auto mechanic and other ‘random’ occupations, traipsing through life and falling into various professions. Random it seemed and some of those jobs are better left unwritten about. Why this drifting about with a precious life to enjoy? Dependent on a breeze to detach me from the branch of my life and float down to yet another location, a wandering sign. It seemed so random but here I am, my odometer has spun around and my body is rusty and noisy but it still works.
One night, I was called and that Vocare has led me places that have utilized skills that I acquired along the snow drifts traveled. Lately, that calling has led me to a place that I would not have guessed but the life and training has equipped me to do so. Ears trained to hear beauty and eyes to see it. There is more to come, always is for us all. Singing prayer with others for years, often just us facing a room filled with empty chairs. This led to a Vocare to pray for other people as I knew prayer was a connection to eternity and it’s creator.
A good friend introduced me to a large church to help him pray. I was immediately struck by the hunger I felt there because it was the same hunger I feel. Now those chairs were filled with people that felt the way I do. I knew what to tell them. He is with them and He is for them. It was the connection with my calling to feel the presence of our Lord.
I was gently reminded by the team leader not to reveal details or struggles of my life, just to listen to people and reassure them and pray with them for their fears and sometimes with tears between us. It was good and right and I felt fulfilled and called to this. Compassion.
It often takes a wounded one to extend healing to another. 1
An opportunity to join my son at another campus came up. He is the director of the media team there and I could ride with him as well. (it’s quite a commute of 60 miles)
I immediately requested a transfer to the prayer team to that campus. It was hard as I had made friends of volunteers and with team leaders. The transfer came through and I began at the new location. When I arrived, the prayer team leader informed me that his team was adequately staffed and I would be put in reserve. I began praying for staff and volunteers as the opportunity arose. It was my main desire at the first location actually. My son and I get to the new location early and it is easy to connect with staff and volunteers.
It works well and I am also able to visit and pray with the band. My son invited me to join his media team. There were vacancies most of the time and some of the positions were advantageous to good production. I began training in various consoles As I write this, I am in the position of assistant director. Very rewarding. I have access to the rehearsals and just listening to them I visualize where the story is being told with the musicians. This enhances the visual and auditory structure of the story we are responsible for presenting.
Now I enjoy that dual role of prayer and media volunteer! Another combination of vocations. My background in radio production was a great help. Communication headsets and lots of dials and switches were familiar. I was called to communication at the age of 13 after all. Amateur radio and attendant electronics and Morse code skills. The initial contacting of other radio operators begins with the letters CQ or Seek You. It seems to be a similar calling to Seek and connect. Perhaps that was the training I needed to enter into these two worlds of prayer and production of an environment that embraces it.
People on the production teams are successful if they are never noticed. All the lights, sound and video screens enhance the story, the greatest story. We even wear black clothing that does not reflect light so we are not seen by the cameras which need reflected light.
What gifts I have been given by our Lord! A Vocare to listen and to see and then help others hear and feel the presence of the eternal God. Random it is not. You too have been prepared for a vocation to serve the world and reflect the love of Christ. Even if you wear black clothing you reflect that light. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator
There they sit until the next auction. Plates, cups, bowls and saucers. Mahogany furniture and kitchen utensils. Machinery and huge steam powered…things..Barn ventilator caps and do dads and gimcracks and folderall. Gewgaws, and the best one of all, Tchoktchke. The last one comes from Yiddish Tshatshke (or an absolete Polish word, Czaczko.)
You can find them in really nice corner cabinets with glass doors, on top of upright pianos or just scattered about the house, seemingly at random. Placed with a discerning eye or propriety and in need of occasional dusting. Dust the Hummel’s at your own risk
Everyone has their faves and lists for the spouse to browse local second or third hand stores. Why do we do this? Perhaps we are hanging onto an older time, perceived as more a genteel one.
Excepting the black buggies of the Amish, stagecoaches are in that category but cannot be displayed, unless you own a herd of horses and a nice driveway or fence line to park it so it is visible. Old ‘collectible’ vehicles are a bit bulky but store on the property..somewhere.
“That’s an old Edsel! It’s worth a lot of money!” Does it run? “Well.., no but I’m workin’ on it.” The Montana vehicle parking lot sort of thing.
We collect stuff, we built a 20 foot shed and lean to just to store some of it. It was full less than a few months later. Big stuff and shelves for parts for the big stuff. You know the list. That old lawn tractor that just needs a new engine and few tires. The old walk behind snow thrower that needs a carburetor and a little paint. Nostalgic and useful stuff. Sort of.
What else that is old and worth saving? My favorite one that is still used, is the long wrap around bookshelves you can see from the living room, up on the balcony walk around. 3D wallpaper. Books from many centuries ago and great illustrated children’s books. Dr. Suess’ Birthday Bird type of stuff. The best antiques of them all as it is OK and right to handle them. Flip through an old Aristotle or a McDonald and find a page that randomly jumps out at you and then it goes downstairs to be added to the random stack by the big rocking chair.
Lately, the stack has been centered around middle ages literature. Most recently one about St. Ignatious of Loyola (early 16th century). The somewhat forgotten wisdom sears truth into me and Julie about this founder of the Jesuits. Lectio Divina, Interacting with God, Oratio, talk to Him, and my favorite, Contemplato, sit in His presence. Timeless and recently, perfectly timed for these times. With our ceaseless scurry to satisfy the emptiness in us with all the stuff we gather, or, think we must gather, to help us be satisfied and joyful. I need to be reminded that essential wisdom is found in another old book that helps me to contemplato our Creator and His plans to love me and never let me go. Ever. I seem to be the collectible for Him. Made by Him before I was even conceived, before the written history of the universe He knew me and helped form me into the man I am. Created to glorify Him and tell other people about Him and His Love. It’s pretty good. (The other old book is the Bible, its good to have several versions.) Norm Peterson / Jack Gator
It’s easier to put the blame on somebody than admit that we have not the slightest idea what is ‘going on’ and why so many things have been going wrong. The term used to be ‘have gone south’ but then I would be accused of some sort of prejudice to say so. I have moved north of highway 8 so that seems to be the right direction. (NW Wisconsin wisdom)
Whether it is the weather which now we think we can control or people’s thoughts we can control and demand they be changed, it is indeed the theater of the absurd.
“It’s the fault of all those people that are using their bread toasters too much!” Or, “It’s your fault for going to work in a selfish way” Take the bus!! Drive an electric vehicle!” I would perhaps if the bus was not being driven by someone else. I have a difficult time already getting enough batteries for my flashlights and garage door remotes. I have heard that rechargeable batteries are the answer if you have enough extra power to fill them up. Can you even imagine a small rural homestead with three or four people with electric cars and one charger? The experts tell us it can be done! There is enough wind and hot air coming from the District of Columbia to power windmills. The experts tell us it must be done.
Somewhere an electric chair is waiting at Amazon. There are many experts for anything you can imagine or anything they can imagine. They tell us what is what and who is who and the world is packed to overflowing with them. Of course in English, ‘Pert’ refers to someone that goes boldly forward in speech and behavior. I would then assume that an expert used to do so but now goes backwards? To go boldly backwards to where so many mistakes have been made and to go where everyone has gone before. An expert on the Enterprise of fools.
I, for one, have had quite enough of backwards thinking or worse, Sometimes shouted, often just quoted by an old expert. The old classic folk song, “If I had a hammer” Indeed, hammer in the morning making handles for wood signs explaining why all the shouting and demanding everyone change society and thought. It reminds of the Vogon guard in the Guide to the Galaxy that really liked the shouting part.
It’s satisfying to be self righteous but of course, it is impossible to make yourself righteous. Only one man showed us how to be righteous and it wasn’t riots and shouting. You know the man I speak of. It is said; with age comes wisdom but often just age shows up. Stop, look and listen to our Creator. He knows everything and He’s Perty good. Jack Gator.
Immediately after the illuminating and inspired message from a man before us is an invitation for those in the room to come to the front if they wish for prayer. It was my first assignment to assist, to help those who would know their hunger enough to be bold and come forward.
My first experience at this large church gathering as I came out to a landing high above the room I began to weep, immediately. I was overcome with the hunger I felt from a thousand souls facing forward. Was it my hunger I asked. “Yes it is also their hunger that is now overwhelming you with all men’s hunger.” Like all of us as children when we need bread for our body, we run towards our parents for food but it is first of all we need their love.
I went down the long side stairway to the main floor and did not trip with my worn shoes and soul. I went forward to stand before the huge bass bins (speakers) and faced the room with my friend who knew what to do and knew I was in the right place with him. Still stunned by the voice that told me it was hunger that all of us have. What can I say to them that ask me for prayer? Those words are suddenly given.
A handful of a thousand felt that hunger and came to us to tell them once again, that He loves them, in that moment. They needed to know that He would never leave them when their world grows dark and holds them in His arms and loves them the He way he always does.
The real needs we have for healing and assurance are always known by our eternal Father. His desire is first for us to reach towards His heart and loving presence. The giver of life wants to give us Himself and indeed tell us once again of His love. His Spirit in our hearts is kindled to flame and His tender voice is heard.
The tears flow among them as the hunger for Him brings forth His presence once again, in that moment, He holds us close and fills us with the bread of life. The one thing that we needed, the only thing. It is the wonder of the words, audible at times when we are alone, that indeed say, “It’s OK, I am with you right here, right now.”
Most of us are a bit shy about asking for prayer and just the moving forward to ask another to join in with you is brave surrender. In the past, prayer with others was done by a handful of us behind doors. It started in our pastors office, then we moved to a small room that had a sign on it. Prayer. It’s a declaration of hunger for God to others and the others are most likely just as hungry to join you. After all, Jesus said when two or more of us join together this way, He is among us.
It’s pretty good, Jack Gator
Thanks once again for George MacDonald and Jon Thurlow for truth written and often sung.
It was a white van, one of those tall ones that have a contractor’s business painted on the sides. Sometimes on the front hood as well, but reversed so you can read it in your rear view. That is an oddity of mirrors we get used to. I never even think I am really shaving the right side of my face when it looks like the left.
So the van was parked at a loading dock at the local church building. Right away I want to make that clear. The building houses the church. Usually it is called the church of…something. Named after one of the gift’s of the Spirit. A rarely seen one is the First church of Self Control.
The white van had the sides (and the hood) painted with the name of the group: Easy Yoke of Deliverance. Obviously transporting something that was needed for the people at the church building. e)narevileb fo ekoy ysae seen walking up to the front of the van. That way you can see it in your mirrors!
I stopped to chat with the driver and he had a name badge on and was very friendly. It wasn’t long after that he asked me if he can pray for me. Seemed appropriate with the cross over the loading dock and all. I asked him why he would do so for me, a stranger. He told me that compassion is the fruit of solitude and the basis of all ministry. A pretty old saying from St. Anthony from the fourth century. Wisdom, given to me from two thousand years ago that was timeless. The more I mulled it over, the more sense it made. I called myself a Christian, but had never experienced nor heard these things. Intrigued and stunned, I wanted to hear more.
His prayer was short and unusual. There was no ‘Christianese’ and flowery language. He prayed right into me and told me simple things that I struggle with and that there was great hope in Christ who lives in my heart. Stunned and pleased with that directness, I began to follow the people that hopped out of the van. They waved a plastic pass card and entered into the building.
They knew the driver had prayed for me and waved me in with them.
It was fairly early in the day and the lobby had only a dozen people moving about. It was obvious that ‘services’ were being anticipated and the waft of fresh brewed coffee was in the air. It was pleasant and there was a genuine welcome in the air too.
The driver came alongside of me and showed me about this large and pleasant atrium and the second floor area as well. Everyone we met had a name badge and they were moving about cleaning, preparing snacks in a room for them and popping popcorn! My escort prayed with a handful of them and I saw from the balcony other groups of two and three doing the same for one another. My escort (Bryan) prayed for the popcorn man and we walked about with a fresh bag and greeted and prayed for more staff and volunteers we encountered.
Escorted into the huge empty sanctuary I promptly began to feel tears welling up and asked if it was hunger going on with me or an anticipation of the people soon to fill the empty seats. The answer was yes. This was definitely not church as usual. I was in love and knew beyond doubt, I was in love with the builder of this building, the town, the city and the planet. The builder and giver of life to me and everyone that I saw. Never had this happen before and I have never been the same since. That answer “yes” just came into my thoughts with clarity and authority. Still does.
I stuck around and I was captured by this love. Eventually, I joined this team I met and the joy at praying for people was so refreshing, I had to do this. Not only in the building, but everywhere I went. I began to be bolder and found baristas and store owners along with commercial drivers that deliver packages to me, welcoming the prayers. I now ‘see’ the hunger for that romance of Christ’s love. What a gift! I never seem to run out of that gift I can give now. There was a lot of preparation for me before I saw that white van. It became very clear that my life had been formed and fashioned to cradle the love of Christ. It took a long time for me, but there are similar stories. I thought I was through and tired of life. I was actually tired of death.
A new ‘job’ or calling as the van driver told me. One of the best jobs and the benefits are all written down in the company brochure, the Bible. It’s pretty good. See you there. Jack Gator scribe
Catching attention is that announcement over the 1MC (That is the speaker system throughout a Navy Ship)
Mail call! Overseas, it was a light moment, usually news from home. Packages of cookies and such were obvious and demanded attention from one’s division. Hopefully a large box. After doing a few tours in a war zone, it was a welcome diversion. Mail was found aft, at the Mess deck by the ship’s Gedunk.
Being on watch 24 hours with 12 hours to sleep was a bit uncomfortable. The mail call was a pleasant relief besides Folgers coffee or Mid rats on the mess deck.
We all do it, walking out now to the box at the end of the driveway to see what’s there. On Tuesdays when the trash is also in it’s container there, it’s an easier job to not have to clutch the rolling trash can and the mail at the same time. You can tell what to toss in the empty can. Sometimes, it’s the whole days mail with all the ‘Special offer just for you!’
Every one on a rural route knows the drill with the flag up to signal there is outgoing mail in the box. Country folk nowadays usually skip doing that flag thing. It used to be convenient, but now there are a very small minority who have a calling to inspect boxes late at night with flags up.
There is almost a romance with the mail. It is something our government really got right to establish the Postal Service. Our language has responded with phrases and words particular to our mail. Special Delivery, Tracking, Return to Sender, Postage Due, Return address’, Zip codes and the inevitable, Junk Mail (spam for Gmail)
There was a rumor afoot that messenger and email type communication would completely eliminate mail. At first, paper mail was called ‘snail mail’ but electronic mail is easily lost and addresses are tricky too.
A few years back, I was told to walk a bicycle trail and then cross the highway to find a treasure. One of those gentle commands that cannot be ignored. He told me to keep my eyes open!
Or course, I thought of treasure of some sort. Nothing but trash and discarded cigarette butts. Not even field stripped. (ask a vet about that phrase) Then He told me to cross the highway, leave the trail. A nice ditch next to a golf course came into view.
There was old mail in the ditch. Dozens of envelopes. I opened one and it was from Korea from a local soldier asking about the crops and the tractors and things like that. Keeping in touch and letting the folks know he was thinking of them, their dad, a soldier overseas. There was a broken cedar box in the midst of the scattered white envelopes. The last name on the envelopes address’ was familiar and it was a name of a girl we had in the Kinship program
We called the number of the last name and the local town. It indeed was that girl and when we told her what I had found, she excitedly said; “There was a break in at my grandfathers house not long ago!” It was a flash of understanding that the thieves opened the box in their getaway vehicle and seeing the old letters, tossed the box out the car window. We bundled up the letters and gave them back to the family and it was very good to do so. There was the return of precious memories.
Personal mail, ah, that is the treasure at our mailboxes! It even surpasses envelopes with checks to cash. A real letter that shows a friend that cares enough to gather ink and pen and encourage us immediately when we see the return address. We all get Email and that has no impact as a folded piece of promised love from an old friend. I get those letters often when I need them.
So, what have we always had that is faster and never has any junk mail or spam with it? We have a passel of love letters from a very dear friend which bear re-reading and we have the incredible permission to answer those letters with just..thoughts. Spoken alone or with friends or just found behind our eyes. The only requirement to receive those letters is to understand them and if needed, ask for clarification with our response. To hear and read and feel our hearts move to get closer to the writer and speaker to our very core.
It’s time now to read and understand and respond to the best correspondent that is and always will be. You know his address. Jesus. Among His many names is ‘The Word” He’s waiting for you to read his letters. Pay attention, it is very important that we do so. Think seriously about those spoken and writtern special letters from your best friend and devour them with joy. Send a response with all your heart, mind, soul and spirit. He is delighted to hear from us, especially you.
Jack gators grace notes 