Working in the Cold

Up here in the north, working outside without gloves, can be unpleasant. Not often, but it also can lead to frostbite. A handful of times, I had to work on cars and trucks outside our shop in the winter because the shop was already full of work. Emergency operations. Misfires, leaks and such leading to inability to get to work or school. Not much fun to replace sensors or wiring when it is below zero.

After the work was done, blowing on my cupped hands helped a little while I got back into the warm shop. I began thinking about why I got angry about such things. Why my spirit was feeling low. I was cold in my mind and not very kind in thought, even about myself. I recently have been training my immediate language responses to distressing situations. Using Latin and Greek.

Styx and Hades for example. Chronos. And others. I am making some progress. You know the drill. Easy to resort to old habits that are unpleasant to hear. Get away from me Athena and Eros.

Having something going immediately into me that would calm my mind and spirit. Calm, almost humorous come forth. Pleasing and disabling anger completely. A wind warming my spirit, blowing through. Pleasantly and completely felt. The new song and breath of God, as He cups me in His hands that I welcome with relief and joy. It worked! I did not curse you Lord, I dismissed the anger by just using the useless names of shelf gods that do not care if they are praised or cursed. Just words of humor really.

I am not saying anger is humorous but relief from it quickly is. Memory can be very useful and assisted by the third person of the Holy Trinity, is downright pleasant. I always wondered why Jesus prayed to the Father. Jesus the begotten Son who was with God and is God (at the start of time as John, the one Jesus Loved wrote). Who is God and who do I pray to when I pray? 1.

Good thoughts from an Abbot of Genesee to meditate on. How do I pray and how do they answer me? The holy spirit is the voice and guide in me. Welcome Him in and you get all three of them on an eternal party line. Meditate on that if you and I will and the advice from that wise Monk that tells me if I get confused about this, “just read Newsweek to relax”

It works. Just listen or read the latest news about riots, dissent and violence and then get back to chatting with the Lord (what do I mean when I say ‘Lord’?) and get that breath and wind that calms and warms our heart and spirit. Amazed once again by His gift of joy. “May He turn His face towards you and give you peace”. Shalom Shalom.

Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

  1. Henri Knouwen

A Dance and a Kiss

It was a real scorcher of an August day. The usual formula, 80 to 90 with humidity to match. The heat index was high and I always wanted to learn the calculations but plowed my calculus exam at the institute of technology. It was sweaty and work of that sort was on the menu.

Not the garden today, the weeds on the south side of the big automotive shop I ran for almost 5 decades. Metal siding and roof and a big commercial sign over one of the bay doors.

Everyone knew what needed to be done and everyone but me was already working today. Volunteer locust trees, accompanied by the usual weeds. Gravel on a slope all around and some of the small trees very close to the greenhouse and the cement foundation for the old pump house.

I began to work and the locust bushes (some over 7 feet tall) doing their best to turn into trees were on the A list. Main trunks well over an inch thick needed the long handled lopper. Thick gloves, good jeans with only one diagonal slash from a small chainsaw accident and excellent boots. It was hot and short sleeves prevented overheating. Then I had to put on a thick canvas jacket at the time of picking up the trimmings. It started to get a little hotter.

Several small puncture wounds and the forty foot row of trap rocks against the building was once again visible. The blood had dried on my left arm. It was getting pretty sweaty after pilling up the branches, weeds and such. Time for a break. I was amazed at how wet I was with sweat.

I found the small clippers that I had covered up with weed debris, grabbed everything else including my thermos of ice water. I walked down the three steps from the shop, turned left off the new sidewalk and went over to cool off under the shade of our gigantic Chinese elm. I sat on my birthday gift wooden swing and settled in with my water jug horizontally stabilized on the slats of the swing. There was a delightful breeze and the view is always pleasant. The white lap sided farmhouse with six gables and a treasure of small trees and plants set in the trap rock around the perimeter.

A swallow tail butterfly was fluttering near the pots of zinnias by the shop and it caught my attention. I asked to see a butterfly dance with an imagination and a wish. The butterfly soon came over the top of the zinnia bush flowers and it began its dance. Just over the grass on the other side of the walk. Back and forth, up to the top of the lilac bush by the house corner. Then gliding back down to the grass up to the zinnias. Dancing in the sunlight. Back and forth several times and then went out to the driveway and sat down. “How was that?” It seemed to say.

Why not ask it to come over and give me another dance and then a kiss? I closed my eyes and there coming close to me was the butterflies creator. Smiling with an embrace and a brothers kiss of greeting. He looked like I imagine Him to look. His description is found in Isaiah 53 by the way. If you are with a friend, the confrontations and weariness of your world are soothed over and sometimes, are forgotten completely. There is great comfort in intimacy with another’s spirit and the love of Christ shared between each other. Starting sometimes with a drawn fish in the sand. New and old. Transformation takes place again and smiles in our heart began to show.

Meanwhile, Julie was concerned as she hadn’t seen me in hours and was in contact with Jesus asking Him if I was OK. Quickly she was assured that I was ‘with Him!’ Her first thought was she would find me lying in the sun smiling and gone. At the exact time I was still entranced with the kiss of brotherly love and satisfied to the whole of me. I was indeed, with Him. “I could go right now” Not my first choice I thought but about as good as it gets nonetheless. A perfect ending to a love affair that grows stronger every day. I too knew I would have a smile if I was lying there.

I finally grabbed my ice to water thermos and left the swing and swallow tail and went in the back door to the kitchen. Julie was processing sweet potatoes for the drying racks and we shared this kismet of the butterfly and Jesus’ gift of faith with one another. Astonished by Him stopping by and then our shared joy. It was now toward the end of the afternoon. Julie was reassured as to what was meant by ‘I was with Him’. Not my time yet to “go rest high on that mountain.”

Julie mentioned that a few days ago she had been asking our Lord if she was hearing Him correctly that He would answer her earnest prayers. He told her to go to the raspberry bushes and pick four of them. Late August and the berry season is over. She found them and as in her usual way, wanted to share them with me. “They are just for you was warmly said by the Lord”. Very sugary and brilliant red. Four of them, all that was there. She shares a lot of things.

As I write now, I can see from my desk our flag waving on the long pole just to my left. The garden and the gladiolas and the heavy laden bean poles are also visible through the front door windows. I am still stunned. Indeed, I have a smile. Limitless delight and faith abounds once again. My work clothes are stuck to me and my shirt is hard to remove. A light supper awaits.

My mentor that I delight in wrote this about prayer: “And why should the good of anyone depend on the prayer of another? I can only answer with the return question, “Why should my love be powerless to help another?” George MacDonald

Jack Gator With thanks to Henri Nouwen on the Lectio Devinia on Mount Tabor and Vince Gill for the song

Forty Years of Touring

A musical career that started around 1962 when I hung around with a four piece right out of high school. The Fables. We lived right down the block from The Trash Men and it seemed like a good path to follow. I just played bongos at that time even though keys were my strength.

In basic training, San Diego, I joined the Blue jackets Choir and marched and sang with them all through basic.

Next I was fresh out of the service and played at the Minneapolis YMCA for a youth gathering a few times a week. That time with my brand new Martin D-28 doing folk music. Peter Paul and Mary, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez songs. Got engaged for a brief time too!

Soon afterwards met another two 12 string guitar players and toured to the west coast and back. We were calling ourselves “Actual Mexicans” and I wound up living in my truck out in the bay area and playing on the street. Mostly in front of my favorite Safeway grocery store.

Back in Minneapolis I did a few folk gigs on the West Bank at the Riverside Cafe and then toured with Hinkley and Larsen and Mike Cass through the upper Midwest and up the east coast to NY state. We played obscure tunes, some of them a bit risque. Bob Frank, Fraser and DeBolt, and homemade ones. Mostly blues and folk style.

Back in Minneapolis I played on the West Bank again and in famous jams with Peter Ostrushko, Stephan Grapelli and the Grateful Dead. I was offered a guitar job by Jerry Garcia. He liked my odd rhythm chops. The bay area summer of love bands are all dead, heroin. I declined his surprising and tempting offer. Read Motorcycle Pilgrimage 4 and 5 for more details

Off to live in Wisconsin on 30 acres and began playing with a country Western band, Dandelion Wine. Singing classics and playing guitar and fiddle. Bars, clubs, dances and weddings.

Years afterwards with that little farm and a delightful family I toured with Duck for the Oyster, a square dance band for years and even played in my own wedding with Bill Hinkley, Kevin McMullin, and Mary Dushane with our four fiddles for the wedding march. Fantastic wedding in Lewis.

I was on our families worship team, Well Spring and we went and played on the National Mall, sang at Times Square church, Madison, Milwaukee, Superior, and local church events as well as in our own created house of prayer in Frederic for four years every Thursday.

There was a terrific guitar player, Jeff Warren, I played with at a local church, New life, for several years. Fiddle, Viola and Mandolin with him. And that was about it. I play a little at home and try to keep my ears and fingers working and adding our Cabinet grand to worship in our living room. That’s it for now as I am aging a bit after Otto Uno times around the sun.

I sing along with songs from my PC right next the piano and am satisfied with 40 years of touring. I now work for Eagle Brook Church in Video production and it is very satisfying. Often I wonder why I do not get asked to play with some of the groups that I still come in contact with, impromptu gigs as well as posted ones in local coffee houses and the small town newspaper nearby.

I believe it is the Lord and his Holy paint caravan showing me once again, A fool on the road to redemption (title of my upcoming book)1stprinting 1stbook for sale for $25,000

As usual, It’s pretty good. Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

Photo of Bill and Judy with thanks to The Prairie Home Companion

Photo below of Bruce Berglund, founder of Actual Mexicans band and my best friend

Darwin, Marx and Walmart at Christmas

Two men we have heard of, and perhaps even read their writing. Secular and worldly writers both of them. Superman religion is an opiate of the people and illusion, no future. Also evolution that man has worked himself up from the brutes against terrific odds. You can justify your voracious ways. It’s easy to understand these viewpoints which totally ignore the necessity of us to answer the questions which we all have within. Why am I here? What or who made the universe? How can something come from nothing? What is the meaning of life?

Everyone has these questions, everyone. It is easy to deny them though because spiritual things are not seen in this world unless we look for them. We are blind and deaf to the truth. What is Christmas all about anyway and what is black Friday?

I remember Christmas in downtown Minneapolis from my early days while I walked around the biggest department store in the Twin Cities. Daytons. Every large window from the sidewalk had everything anyone desired, Model trains and such for myself and my youthful friends. Beautiful stuff. Exotic clothes, hats and shoes. Appliances unknown along with the latest TV sets and phonographs. Dazzling. We would walk around the store which is a city block square.

The best food. There it was, on the top floor, a restaurant serving food that was totally unadvertised and you had to know it was there to go. Exquisite, tasty and classy linen and crystal water glass’

In a very stretchy analogy, I liken this dichotomy to the secular vs spiritual in our society. After all, like the windows in this story, the world is always right before our eyes. Everything you think you would want is on show. Even other people we lust for because of their shape or the clothing they wear. Wallets full of other peoples money, car lots filled with shiny new vehicles. The latest models that are styled right from Holly wood movies to you. A car that appears to be a knockoff of a Formula 1 racer.

Fast food shouted from the freeways on huge, tall billboards. Exit now! get twenty Grey Bastille French burgers! They’re neatly sliced, and the pastry on the buns is exquisite. Everywhere the world beckons us to experience fulfillment and joy from horse racing to the Indianapolis 500. Advertising has reached another new level. not only at Christmas.

It doesn’t work. There is always someone richer or seemingly famous and beautiful that has a much nicer spouse and life than us. Look at the National Perspire at the grocery check out. Envy on our face as we gaze at the latest scandal with the beautiful wife of the revealed grassy knoll shooter. That doesn’t work either. Pick up a “My home and garden are better than yours” magazine or Readers Disgust and laugh at yourself and your pitiful life. There is hope though! Akin to the hidden treasure atop the department store, there is treasure in our world. Affordable treasure for your life. It seems like a steep price tag but the warranty goes forever. And it can be given away and still held!

The real world is indeed filled with fulfillment, joy and adoration. Our King and possessor of all things seen, felt and seen will give us this treasure and it is yours to experience and hold, forever. It is the treasure we all yearn for and once we have it, we can’t wait to give it to others.

Christmas is rightly focused on giving. The celebrations with bells and choirs and candles light the way to the best gift given. Wrapped in cloth and as delicate and astonishing as the perfect gift.

Sign up with an oath to share and enjoy with others that deserve this treasure as much as you do. You will hear our Creator tell you things and again and again; tell you that you are His treasure and gift from Him and His Son. We must give up on the old, lustful world inside of us and open our hearts to truth and reality, forever. This gift never goes out of stock, it becomes more beautiful the more you give it to others. It cannot be ordered from Amazon or found on eBay. There is a catalogue that has all the details and is available in stores throughout the land. It is also found in bedside drawers in hotels!

It is handed to you as your heart beats strongly and joy and tears overflows. It is truly the gift that keeps on giving. It’s pretty good. Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

Rome, Are We any Different from Them?

My first thoughts on the very beginning was what a powerful nation Rome was. And yet, from poor leadership and inflated senses of self, she fell.

The philosophic, the scientific and the religious thoughts of today seem to be universal and timeless. My favorite is a slight variation from Descartes: “I think, therefore I am an intellectual” Or perhaps a young student who knows no history and runs on temporary feelings and some fools advice.

The mindset, the world outlook all colored by experiences is obvious, but still profound. Since I have read Francis Schaeffer’s book ‘How should we then live? several times, the concept of compromise and personal satisfaction runs through the whole book. Or; “how ya doin’? Fine, thanks! How’re you doin? Fine, thanks for asking” ad infinitum.The god’s we are now embracing instead of Jesus, seem to be somewhat familiar to Romes. Universal reset to the golden calf that ‘just appeared’ out of the fire of, the struggles of life. My generations gods: Sex, drugs and Rock and Roll. A little commune life spiced up with all those things.

Communist Hippies. Precursors to the Woke generation. I am special (true!) You are not (false) All truth is false and that’s the truth! “Eat the rich”, People power, Rent Strike! Make enough money for a pitcher of beer across Cedar Avenue, West bank of Minneapolis which now is totally Somali immigrants feeding money back home from fooling the dole que. I lived there after discharge and it was headquarters of world class musicians and hippies. They don’t speak English there now and they hate America except for our money. I don’t judge them for their race, just their ties to people who hate Israel and us. Thanks president Biden for flying them in on Walz’ sanctuary city scam.

The Roman Empire. Similar to ours in many ways. Conqueror of the known world. Roads everywhere. Most powerful country, best military, Controlled civilization with Caesar in absolute control to keep the roaming gangs in line.

The battle of Christian believers in the first 300 years were pretty bad and then just after Constantine made the state religion Baptist, the whole thing went sour with apathy and slouchy living. Violence, weird and badly done artwork, fascination with sex and of course, the games and government stimulus checks. Followed by inflation. Sound familiar?

Just like us. Then the whole thing fell apart and Rome was not the big guy in the world. Their freeways and secondary roads are somewhat still in use! Just a little narrow and bumpy and the bridges are iffy.

It seems that Greek civilization was not the main model we have used today for government and structure of society. It’s Rome. Not too long ago, our nation rejected our Creator and his Son for no god at all, Hegel, Darwin, Marx and Brilliant Steven Hawking. The god of our own power and science. Pretty flimsy religion.

Oh the Methodists, Baptists, Lutherans and Catholics putter along in competition with one another for the ‘Truth’ and the most perfect worship and doctrine. Good musicianship helps the popularity chart as well.

A Henri Nouwen quote seems appropriate here. ” When I pray, to whom do I pray? When I say Lord, what do I mean? This is the real question, the only question that you can make your most important question…when the question exhausts you so much that you need to read Newsweek for a little relaxation!” 1.

Apathy again. We care about the state of our country and talk about it a lot! As long as we have our goodies, lake homes and boats, recliners and bigger TV screens than our friends, we are on top. Until we get older and weird looking and forget who we are and who we are in God. As if we knew about God in our “used tea bag minds“.2.

We must be very careful to not be as sarcastic as I usually am. There is something wrong with our country, our world and Francis Capon says it well. ‘How should we then live?’2. Jesus Jesus Jesus, nothing else will do. Then It’s pretty good. Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

1. Henri Nouwen

2 .Frederic Capon

First things First

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.

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

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? Do we do the first things first?

There is a very old piece of wisdom which I may have mentioned before. It’s from the Jewish Talmud and it is a conversation between a Rabbi and Elijah the Prophet:

He asks Elijah when Messiah is coming. Why don’t you ask Him yourself? He is out by the city gate. 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. Be still and listen.

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. I have experienced this in several ways. I was a part of a ministry in Lino Lakes called, ‘God’s grease Monkeys’ This must be a calling for me!

I was sort of on board with this Loving God command but I wasn’t waiting for that still, small voice of the Lord. I thought I was on the right track, seemed logical. I grabbed tools and showed up, even recruited a some good friends. The ministry was not where I needed to be on my own reckoning. I was Not listening for His quiet voice. After all, I saw the newspaper column that wrote about those grease monkeys, a Sunday edition of all things which I hardly ever buy. Who needs that much fire starting paper just because the funny section is a good memory?

Now, the same thing happens when I try with works of sacrifice to show Julie my love. I do not listen to her as she needs me 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 our heart, soul and mind. Love the Lord first by listening to him. He will show us how to listen to others and understand their voices . It’s hard some of the time, but it’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Tis the Season to be Jolly

Photo taken at Gone Green Recycling

It seemed like an incredible opportunity. Snow cones with jam and maple syrup. Enough snow for sure. At twenty cents apiece it would be thousands. Road side stand. That’s the ticket!

Perusing auctions about the state, I came across a really practical item. Something that could replace my old walk-behind machine and make the long driveway and parking lot be usable. Above photo.

A record breaking season of foot after foot of snow can get tedious as you well know up here in the North Country Fair. There is more than usual grumpiness and complaining in town. Strangers at the post office, smokers outside the bar. It gets to be humorous with everyone. After all, sometimes feet of snow slow things down and tailgating to avoid first in line deer collisions is over for the season.

A lot of folks with the big F250’s and western plows make a decent amount of seasonal money. The problem with that approach was the tall mounds of snow next to the driveways and roads. You know how it was. Cautiously, creeping out to make certain there was no traffic coming. And the mess and eventually, no place to further put the snow! Dump trucks of it after small town America finishes clearing main street.

Snow blowers, good ones, can throw the snow a ways and solve the pile problems. Not everyone had a machine that could effectively throw it that far. Especially the wet and often slushy snow or the ice that the slush turned into at night. In town, of course, shoveling is the only option. Snow blower haze on the next door neighbors windows is frowned upon.

We now have a utility tractor with a bucket, forks and so forth. If the skids on the bucket are set just right, our youngest son (who bought the tractor) can remove the snow without removing gravel from the driveway. The snowblower attachment we had for the Simplicity Lawn tractor needs auger bearings, transmission oil seals too and they are very labor intensive to replace. We have an old walk behind blower that is very tedious as the driveway is approximately 2 furlongs long and quite a big wider. It would take me 6 trips or so just to do the driveway. The parking lot is big and is then done afterwards. We shovel the side walks and various paths to the wood shed and storage buildings. No cattle or chickens this year so the long walk to the barn is not used.

How much to charge and how to contract townships for the tough roads through many lake owners- properties? Fuel, time, repairs would be factors. They used to do it 40 years ago. I would wait out by the door, listening for that diesel engine, snorting away nearby and watch that road grader with a huge V plow punch a path up the long driveway. A few runs if there was drifting. When he got up to turn around, I would walk out to him with a hot cup of coffee laced with Kalua. He knew it was coming. Well received, well given. He came sooner after that ritual was established.

As many of us ‘old timers’ speak of these things, the past including weather, seem more exciting and real. Examples throughout history are that way. It was better than before. The clothes, the people, the schools, etc. Was it? The storms seem to be tolerable now without free flights inside the house with waltzing tornados accompanying you on wood winds.

Would I be happier with a coonskin cap and a flintlock cradled in my arm this week during deer season? I wouldn’t know if I lived then. I would be the same person. It’s always ‘progress’ and under suspicion as we yearn for things but do not really want them.

Life in the garden was good until we got eager for more. More gold, more power, more success. Pretty old story eh? Why are we like this? We have been given everything that we need, and that is the reason we yearn. I am learning to find satisfaction and joy not around the corner. Right here, right now.

Simple rules from long ago, there are only three of them as I have read: “Be kind, be kind, and the third rule is like those, be kind.” To yourself and in turn, to everyone else. I always come back to the Ardennes forest in WW I as the soldiers began singing Silent night in German, French and English after yet another trench warfare battle. Crossing no-mans-land and sharing precious cigarettes and brandy to celebrate the only true God and lover of all and His birthday. Be kind. It’s pretty good.

Norman Peterson / Jack Gator

Musicians of Eternal Sound and Sight

There I was, Camera 2 on a tripod mounted at Front of House. Instructed over my head com to push in with the lens and get a closer view of the electric guitar on the left side of the platform.

What a sound! The number 4 camera got a really nice shot and the director kept that shot on the side screens and lobby screens for a LONG time as Troy played the song. ..” I see creatures all around you, thunders and lightnings” of the Revelation song. It was loud, wicked and over the top” You could see troy with his famous grin, enjoying the worship with a heart filled with adoration. He was having too much fun.

The steam powered Bigsby bar sound coupled with a metal finger slide brought the house down and suddenly, there was a loud scream from the front of the room: “I’ve been washed!”

She was dancing and leaping about and kept her hand over her heart and security just stood there amazed, stunned and reassured that the Holy Spirit was in full force in the room and in them. A thousand people or more just filled with Joy they never experienced nor expected.

We got it all and the simulcast went all over the world. Things began to happen in England, Poland, Australia and other places too fast to type down off the internet feed. It was glorious. The room began a conga line up and down the aisles, laughing and enjoying the joy that spread throughout…everywhere. “Holy, Holy is the Lord God almighty” was heard six times every second around the world. The speed of light is like that. Fast.

There was a sea of glass in all skies, blazing and the man with eyes of fire replaced the sun and moon and called us to join him in rapture. Forever. It was pretty good! Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

  • Many thanks to Mitch Teemley for capturing the picture of the guitar

Clearing a Pathway to Shelter and Life

It’s one of the farm chores in the winter. Looking towards the east of this photo is the barn. When we had horses and a few cows, a pathway would have be made from the driveway east about 150 feet or so. If the walk behind snowblower started. We always had a laugh about our snowblower that did not like to start when it was cold. The big snowblower for the driveway was not used for the path. Too many stumps and debris that were hard to see from the tractor seat. The walk behind would not be damaged bumping into such things. Nice and slow and closer to the ground.

The hose for filling the water trough would be laid out next to the path. When the trough was full, the hose which was set up on hooks that were screwed into the garden end posts. Then the hose would be blown out with the air hose from the shop which has a manifold to the water supply. Tedious work and the hose ran right across the parking lot and had a few damaged sections seen in the spring and had to be repaired. It was easier to see the leaks in winter and make note of them.

The chicken coop was next to the barn and of course, needed water as well. We sold the horses and ate the cows and the chicken coop is built on running gear. When a place is cleared nearer to the house it will be much easier to gather eggs and give them food and water. Meanwhile the water had to be taken in a wheelbarrow in summer when the hose and horses were gone. A declaration over breakfast “who’s going to water the chickens?” A brief summery which chickens were sharing a nest and how many eggs should be in it.

Farm life without a stand pipe in the barn. Labor or a lot of money to bury the water line. Which choice to make after cursory glances at the bank balance?

There are other paths that do not require snow blower attachments, or shovels and cups of coffee to accomplish. These are paths much more important than watering troughs or gardens in the spring. Paths for us every hour of our days till transformation to what we really are. We are created as eternal beings. All of us.

A place, a time and a decision can put a path in front of us. I made a decision on an address that had the first three numbers of my old Gibson mandolin as I walked by. 777. It seemed right and stunning. I kept walking into a church because of that sign. A guidepost for only myself that I trusted immediately. I Still go there.

I was walking out to the barn in the middle of a snowstorm and when I reached the barn, there was a white out of snow. The only way back home was to follow that water hose , or be lost. Trust in the creator of all things and He shows us how to walk out of the wilderness. I was lost and now am found.

The shelter He calls us to when we have a bale in each hand when the wind blows bitter and the shadows are dark A.

The architects of large buildings of every kind do not know how pathways are supposed to be built. They watch and look for wear and footprints of the people drawn or working there. Those paths tell them where to put sidewalks. They are called meander lines. No one gets lost in a blizzard there but it can be tedious to find doors if there are no direct walkways.

Be steady on your walk through life and look for that lifeline that is given by the spirit of the living God within you. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

A. Frederick Buechner

Origins of Thanksgiving

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