faith

Memories With Strings

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It seems like a few weeks ago when I was playing on the worship team at New Life Church. We just climbed up to the stage before and I plugged in my wireless to my belt pack. Jeff began the song softly and Soren got a soft mallet accompaniment going on his drum kit.

We began with a beautiful favorite and my old mandolin started playing, seemingly by itself. My fiddle hanging on the music tray with it’s mini XLR waiting for the next song. We dove into the present song and I exploded way up on my frets and began a fast tremolo that sequenced down about four frets before ending to chords. Jeff looked my way and smiled. I switched for the next song to the violin and we started the second song. I am not skilled enough to go beyond second position but it was adequate for that song. We completed the set and we all unplugged and began to set our instruments aside to Tony’s dive into scripture.

Jeff said; “ I thought you were way up the fret board on your viola.” As I was walking down the short stairs to the main floor a young boy walked up to me and simply said ; “ I like your violin”

Later, ,Jeff told me he laughs inside when I play the high tremolos on my mandolin. I will never forget the simple things like that. I was and am fulfilled with that memory. It’s a small church, maybe a hundred or more seats. Doesn’t matter about size. Neither does eternity when I think about those things. Timeless. God was there with us and he danced for us as David danced before the Ark with the tambourines and string players. We played good songs and had a good time, we got to touch eternity.

I miss those things that happened. The high notes on my fiddle that Jeff thought was my viola beyond second position. What a band, what joy. I transitioned to production at huge multi campus church 75 miles away and was satisfied with telling camera operators what was coming next from our control room. That small voice that came through on their headsets as one of them, Fred, told me. Another gentle laugh from worship involvement.

I ran cameras later and I understood those things. A quick ‘nice shot five’ from the director to a hand-held operator and the upcoming shots for each camera also coming in on the one earphone in our right ears. It was nice to hear the lead electric guitar player tell me that Jeff was his guitar teacher. A connection between huge and little church. No differences. The people always come about 5 minutes before worship and leave just as quickly. A good laugh and puzzlement for me.

I like coming early and leaving late. Just me, rushing is a waste of time, not a gain.

It was challenging and fulfilling but not as much as having Jeff laugh inside when I played mandolin. I miss those times and treasure them as musicians do. If you play ensemble with an audience you know what that is. Timeless, eternal joy to Jesus who dances and laughs when those things just happen for Him. He is the best teacher of all these things.

It’s pretty good, Jack

God’s Grease Monkeys

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was at a time when I was very enthusiastic about community service. Problem was, I didn’t have a clue as to what that looked like. From earliest days, I was a loner, growing up self focused. Finding pleasure and personal piece, with an appetite for self importance and recognition.

Being a mechanic, and a pretty good one according to my satisfied customers, I chanced to see the headline on a big city newspaper section. ‘God’s Grease Monkeys’ Perfect fit. I was a new Christian and had the usual images of what that meant. Be nice and get extra points for doing something for a stranger. It was in the Bible somewhere. God likes that stuff after all. God himself is pretty nice and that seemed to be the ticket for theological success.

I read on and the article outlined a garage in a suburb of St. Paul that repaired cars for people that had little or no money. I got the address and time of this outreach and picked a few hand tools, a code reader. I showed up and they gladly put me to work. An oil change and a headlight bulb or two for starters. On the floor of the shop. The next month, the staff knew I could do more complex things and assigned me a brake job and another light bulb replacement. Those can be harder to do as you might know.

That ministry team even stuffed my Volvo station wagon with food that was part of the Grease Monkey ministry “Spread it around your neighborhood” were the instructions. Right. my neighborhood is mostly lake homes and farmers. We ate most of it and gave some to friends in town.

I was racking up God points and then the inevitable for all car ministries occurred: The repeat attendee with yet another car, and another after that. Judgment time. The perfect ministry was buying the parts. Tires, wheel bearings, blower motors, filters, window regulators and lots of light bulbs. When questioned about things, often the response would be; “oh, I sold that one you fixed a while back”

There was no more clarity for me. However, my coworkers were good with these situations. I did not take it to the Lord in prayer. There was a reason I was there which I did not know. I just showed up because that’s what people of faith do. I was puzzled to this giving away to strangers.

I started another car repair ministry,ten miles away with town friends. The same thing happened. ‘Why am I doing this?’ “We are just being used!” This time I took some advice and sat with the Lord.

What are you learning, what is happening to you? Do you find joy no matter what, do you connect with Me and talk with me? I will show you things beyond your dark curtain that will give you great joy!

I knew that I wasn’t really nice and I was not praying, not abiding and not listening. It got better after that. I began to open up and began seeing and listening to the Father I always craved. I surrendered leadership to Him. I began talking, singing a bit while I served the ones given to me It was pretty good. Jack

Patterns of Causality

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 4 Comments

There are many phrases most of us use. These usually are heard when we speak of a life event, small or large.

Perhaps a crop fails unexpectedly or a deer is found in front of you while speeding through the highway. Many times these life events seem negative, and cannot be understood. Such things are said to others that seem casual but have world views that alter the basic ways we feel.

An example: A neighbor suffers an accident that kills them. A neighbor that could be seen as a ‘bad neighbor’ that has done things most of us would refer to as wrong behavior. The usual phrase would be: “He deserved it” or “that’s what happens when you go against Jesus’ command to love our neighbor” Bad Karma, darkness generates dark results, the inevitable outcome of sin. Forgiveness not judgement is very hard but is our part of the neighbors errors.

These thoughts are a result of our fear to assign events, good or bad, to a thing resulting in attitudes or behavior of us or others that has consequences. A logic statement that is basic is, ‘Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc.’ It means: ‘After something, therefore because of that something’ Confused yet? An example of belief in charms we have nearby. Talismans, anything to deny God and the horror of an uncaring and empty universe.

Being relieved that you remembered to put that plastic replica of a saint on your dashboard or your Bible in a certain reserved spot at home or in a public worship setting. Horse shoes nailed open side up by your doorway.

Anything, anything to express a reason behind an event, good or bad. Being relieved that you were wearing the same outfit you had on at the casino when money came your way… again. Your lucky shoes perhaps? Up to the point of blaming ourselves for failing in some way has logical explanations that the universe does not consist of random events. There is a ‘Post Hoc’ event that determines Propter Hoc.

The usual example for that feeling about bad things that happen to us is ‘ Well, I guess I deserved that’ or someone else saying it about you.

Anything to not view our world as just random atomic activity creating obstacles or bridges that govern all events. An excellent research paper on this will start with the book of Job in the Bible. (it’s in between Esther and Psalms) The whole book is about a man that is accused again and again by his three friends that he has done something against God that has caused his misery.

Job’s friends accuse Job of being an unrighteous man, a sinner in some way. Job’s reaction to these accusations? As he has lost everything of value to his life he states: “ I know that my Redeemer lives” After all the things that God has allowed (not Done) Job will worship God. Faith, the very gift of God.

Do we look to the creator of all that is and all that will be as our servant? Do we look upon Him as evil? Do we look and worship Him in seasons of good and bad as our master and creator that loves us more than we can even imagine. There indeed is a seductive evil upon the world.

“As someone asked C.S. Lewis, “are you really asking me to believe in this creature with horns and a tail that causes misery and actually demands I worship him?” Lewis answered him “ I don’t know about the horns and such but if you do desire to meet and see him and obey him, you will see him indeed.

As for me, I will worship my redeemer, whatever comes upon me. It’s not easy, there is never a guarantee of ease. Only the guarantee that He is my treasure.

It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Hovering

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

A nice family gathering on Friday. The entire family, all six of us at the expanded kitchentable for the Shabbatt celebration that We do every week with the three of us, Soren, Julie and myself. We lit the candles to God and Tabetha sang the song of dedication in Hebrew. Beautiful, I love it when she does it when she is here. Her mom, JoBeth, flew up from Florida to be here..

As usual, a great supper, this time with abundant servings of our garden. Potatoes, carrots, peas,beans and tomatoes. New balsamic from a good friend just returned from Italy with it.

“ Please pass the chicken (sauteed in basil and olive oil) “Bjorn”, Can you top off my wine with that blackberry? Tabatha bread for the blessing and our candles are burning bright at the middle of the feast. We eat the bread and toast the Lord. Baruch, Hashem, Adoni with the wine.

The aftermath is the dishes being washed right away by Julie and Tabetha’s mom in the nearbysink. The rest of us move to the parlor and conversation begins to accompany the clatter ofthe dishes settling in the drying rack.

I hover over the conversing and sit in my chair and meditate on an open a C,S. Lewis book on prayer. I Left, out of sorts and I walk out on the porch, say hello to the outside cat and walk over to the swing under the Chinese elm that shades it. I contemplate moving further away and decide to open the garden gate and walk to the middle and sit on the restored bench, surrounded with flowers.

I sit and pray for guidance of my desire to speak but my feelings of ‘Hovering’ witch is social signal to join in when I do not desire to. I hear a humming bird also hovering and look up to see it an arms length away, facing me and emitting chirps I did not know they did. Back and forthwith the buzz of it’s wings, closer than belief. God was speaking to me. “you are seen”

I get up and walk back to the gate and am distracted by a butterfly next to me, feeding on the nearby zinnia’ One I have never seen with distinct yellow dots. It did not flap it’s wings like the monarchs do while sipping. It’s enough Lord, thank you. I leave the garden and go directly back to the house.

“Where did you go?” I answer the best I can about speaking to God in the garden. And then I enter in to conversation. Eventually there are hugs and waves goodbye and we clean up more and head off to bed. I have an interesting dream about editing a series of slides about the life ofAlbert Einsteins life for production and awaken before anyone and light up my computer to edit this column. A snack and orange juice and finally it is time to stack fire wood and get another 2 firewood loads from a stack at a neighbors. It is nice big chunks that our neighbor sold to us as they had quit heating with wood.

Our wood shed is about half full for the winter of 26 / 27.

Life is pretty good. Jack Gator

Song of Solomon

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It is a book that is either devoured or skipped. Misunderstood on the surface and dismissed with all those images of sheep teeth, pomegranate foreheads and couches and dark tents.

It is another book, written by the wise one, Solomon. He wasn’t just writing about worldly romance and the flesh longings. Why is it in the Bible anyway? It is there to show us who we should be, how we can see our time here as a great battle for our hearts. A battle against the world and it’s blindness’. A battle against our own weak love.

Solomon 8: 6-7 as a starting illumination. “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death, Jealousy as cruel as the grave, it’s flames are flames of fire, a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, nor can the floods drown it. If a man would give for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly despised”

How about this line: “I am my beloved’s and his desire is toward me” There are many such allegories in this book and a lot of them have been dismissed as even pornographic or lusty. My oh my, again why would this be in scripture? In my limited study and instructions I have found Jesus in every book, every prophet, every word from Genesis to His revelation. Indeed He is mine and I am His. I have searched for him without even knowing who I was searching for. The ‘watchmen’ have beaten me as they did Him. I have indeed heard His voice right outside my door but I opened the door and there was no one there. I was blind and could not see but I could hear alright.

Think about these things in every book of scripture where Jesus is revealed time after time. Could this be yet another book of revelation? Of course. Jesus shows up and is given a tithe. The name given is Melchizedek. He shows up under that name a few times. Just to ‘prime the pump’ of man’s astonishment and wonder. The questions, the queries and the exegesis begins when ‘Mel’ shows up.

Another name of the reason for living, the creator of living and the totally righteous one. Moses asked who shall I tell sent me? “I am” Tell them that.

Actually, a beautiful song written by Misty Edwards uses the exact words of the song mentioned above that starts in Song of Solomon 8:6

Perhaps it is not comprehended by many but I learned it and it indeed, is a powerful image of truth. I am His and He is mine. Talk to Him without thinking of the next thing to say or proclaim. Yes, He is creator of anything that was made. Ask Him why he made you. He will tell you if you listen. I try to ask him questions, not “lift up” someone he made. He does the heavy lifting. He knows these things. Ask Him for faith and truth.

“When we pray for someone, He hears that prayer. He hears them all. When answered, we often have a tendency to rejoice that our prayers or many were the cause. When the event that we prayed for occurs, your prayer has always contributed to it. When the opposite event occurs your prayer has never been ignored; It has been heard, considered and refused, for your ultimate good and good of the whole universe. But this is, and must remain a matter of faith. You will, I think, only deceive yourself by trying to find special evidence for it in some cases more than in others. “ C.S Lewis

Regards, Jack Gator

photo is of the ‘cathedral in Trade Lake

The Best Advice, the Hardest to Do

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 2 Comments
Al Quie

Chuck Colson

There is a man that I trust. More than any other man I have ever met. I’ll tell you about him in a little bit. There is another man, I talk to him less often, but the trust bond is there as well. This other man tells the truth to people. How many of us have a job like that? Tough job, really. Lot’s of training involved, study, college and ‘ample’ on the job training as well. The part that may confuse you is that this man’s desire is to tell stories about the other man! Oh yes, truth is absolutely a job requirement for both men as well. Character, discernible, is a gateway into seeing these things. Usually, the eyes are the first indicator to character. You may do this without even knowing that you do so. Eyes that look into you as you look into them.

I have spent a lot of this life looking away, fearful of what I might see (or be seen.) You also know this without it being something you think about when you meet an old friend or are introduced to someone. When the eyes, portals into the mind are not giving information, I usually forget their name as soon as it is said. This may also due to short term memory function a bit lacking. There are tests for this, usually avoided if possible. Who would want a total stranger telling them they were old ten years ago. “get used to it”

The second man has a lot to say to me and often, in a room filled with others, I will notice an unease in some as what this man has to say is a bit disconcerting and perhaps even confusing to those of us not used to communicating deeply. Questions are raised, sometimes boldly seeking some other fine point of the this man’s spoken words. Good questions, even encouraged and I have questions but usually hold them back because I am aware of an awkwardness of focus to others.

I would rather be silent and let the talk by the second man sink in a bit deeper without a distraction of speaking aloud. There was a man that did this speaking better than anyone since. He is long gone from us unfortunately. His name was Jonathon Edwards. A standard to which most speakers of truth aim for. There was one ‘speech’ that Mr. Edwards delivered that was so powerful and so convicting that a room full of ordinary listeners fell on their faces. There really was no other response that could be made when hearing the most important and life changing truth for everyone within hearing. A long time has gone by since that original speech but it remains powerful, convicting and stunning still.

The bold and inescapable truth taught was how bad we really are, especially if we think we are OK and are pretty nice. Compared with ‘those people’ we are in the ‘swell’ zone if there is a measuring device that could do that. Actually, there is a ‘swell’ or ‘free of faults’ measurement and on the other side of the gauge: ‘Bad and Wicked’ There is a thumb on the scale however and surprisingly, it’s our thumb. I leave it to you reader to decide which measurement the scale defaults to. Every time.

The revelation of who is first man is now at hand. He has many names that are used by many people to address Him. Somehow all those names are powerful nouns and are recognized easily by people that have met Him. Some of them are: Yaweh, Lion of Judah, First and Last, Beautiful, Shiloh, King of Kings, Everlasting, I AM, Chief Cornerstone, Teacher, Dayspring, Son of Man, Prophet, Alpha and Omega, Bread of Life, Savior, Light of the world, The Word, Branch, Good Shepard, Jesus. Those are just a few of his names.

As an illustration of what the first man does for those of us who look to Him for help, I will use the story of Al Quie and Chuck Colson. Many of us remember Watergate and Mr. Colson was convicted of conspiracy. Minnesota Governor Quie, quoting an obscure law, offered to serve the remainder of Mr. Colson’s sentence. Chuck did not take him up on it. The offer was real. Look it up.

Quite a bit of time passed after that before the Al Quie center was built at Lino Lakes prison. It was for the prisoners there to study Jesus and hear sermons from dedicated men that wished to serve. I was part of this ministry and was always told to give a sermon on the wrath of God. It was hard for me and I suspected the ministry leader was giving me an honor to select me for the task. Think about teaching a room full of prisoners about wrath and judgment! A challenge for certain. I have finally found out about God and His wrath. We deserve it but the first man has taken it upon Himself. All of it, for all of us. Impossible we say, but it’s historical truth.

There are many incredible stories about this Man. No one is like this, no one will ever be like this again. Now I am flat out preaching and it feels good to do what my friend does for me.

“There is something going on and you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?” Bob Dylan

It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Sea Anchor

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Moving through a hurricane, we had a sea anchor set. This anchor, set at the stern, is adrogue that gives a steady pull, deployed like a huge parachute dragging behind the ship.Steering into the oncoming waves at an angle to prevent being pushed sideways and the pull from the drogue preventing us from pitching forwards. (It’s called pitch poling in nautical terms.)

We had to keep steaming to punch through and keep adjusting the helm to enter another wavecoming at us. I was standing two decks above the main deck and the waves were thirty feetabove me. The ship had a big draft to the plimsoll line, so I figured 60 foot waves.

I watched the spray covering the bow back to the masts as we kept steady onward. I heard thatwe were in the ‘shadow’ of the island of Malta. The place where Paul the disciple was shipwrecked. A real place of peril for everyone. Right in the middle of the Mediterranean sea.

It occurred to me in afterthought as I was listening to a podcast was the phrase of being safe and secure as an Anchor was used, quite a few times. We had huge anchors and used them when we had to ‘anchor out’ at a seaport. Tied up at a dock, we used hawsers and fore and aft ‘spring lines’ to stay steady. Anchors kept us in one place of course. The anchor of my soul gives me the image of the sea anchor. Moving through my life with it’s usual storms and holding on as best I can and relying every time now with staying the course with the Lord’s sea anchor. Keeping me pointed straight through my life filled with peril and

my penchant to change course in rough places.“My anchor holds against the gale” Not to stop but keep pressing in to the goal. Don’t get off that true and righteous path.

“ The safest road to hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, with out sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts “ C.S. Lewis

Stay the course, He will hold you and guide you and give you peace. It’s pretty good and guaranteed.

Norm Peterson/ Jack Gator

The Sight of a Smell

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was early in the morning when I saw the delightful smell drifting in from the kitchen. A haze,It was Soren my son cooking bacon for the family breakfast. Delightful, visible and delicious.A combination of several senses at once.

Another combination is lightning. The stroke, which grasps our sight as suddenly it appears and continues for a very brief time afterwards as dark lines as we blink it away. Then comes the sound. Calculating the speed of sound @ 1125 ft/s we come up with a mile every 4.7 seconds.

It’s fun to see how close the strike is by the timing of the thunder. So, we have sound and sight in combination. If the lightning is close, there is a smell of the ozone as well. The fertility of the earth is enhanced by the generation of Nitrogen. A natural fertilizer and the ozone protects us from the harmful radiation from sunlight! Quite a few senses involved. Sight, smell, hearing and the engagement of our mind in calculation and awe.

Along with the lightning, comes the wind and the rain. So now we combine sight, smell and sound in a different way with seeing the rain, hearing it spatter on our head or the rap on a roof. Then comes the smell of freshness. Does anyone have few words for the smell of the rain? It’s the smell that aromatic companies try to duplicate for those car ‘fresheners’ or scented soaps and dryer sheets. That isle in the big box store that gives us the challenge of holding our breath until we wheel past with the wobble-wheel cart, looking for toilet paper (Same breath holding reaction to the kitty litter aisle)

There is the smell of an old bound hard-cover book while reading it. We could talk about the delight of those two, but that’s another sense we have. Awe. It’s a natural emotional response to the senses combined. It’s a sense of presence of the Numinous Creator God. You may call Him a different name in your awe, I call Him Yahweh or Lord or God, the best one for him is Jesus.

Another sense often occurs with that Awe, shivering or a tingling of suddenly being aware of the supernatural that is always with you but now, sometimes visible (It HAS happened to me, but it is very rare.) After all, no one is supposed to see the face of God lest he die. In the words of Pogo..”Death, I can live without it”. It’s not the of God I have seen, it’s the result of His presence I have seen. I know He has permitted me to see things and hear things, along with that presence that is unbelievable when I talk about them. That’s OK if someone scoffs at these things, I was there.

As I have said before, I am not claiming any thing else. Just a gift we get if we know it is so. I look forward to this gift from Him with a smile of expectancy. None of us knows when it will occur, but it does and gives all of us more than we can try to describe in the description of senses. You have had this happen to you, but have thought of it as incredible luck or coincidence unexplained. It’s Joy, that’s for certain. Its pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

The Streetcar The Dentist and a Violin

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was in the middle of the last century that as a preteen I was given the task of taking streetcars to the family dentist. I know, it’s sounds like a long time ago. It was. Streetcars were the way to get around town. Everyone knew where they went. As the buses that replaced them, there were placards in front telling destination and the routes were memorized by all. There were transfer tickets, if you asked for one, that enabled the ride to go further in a different direction.

I was five or six years old when I went by myself downtown and further. There, of course, were young kids that would roll a big snowball onto the tracks. Harmless fun as the trolly would plow through them easily. The bigger kids would do those sorts of things. I never did it but saw it done by boys quite older than I. Older by a year or two! Usual seniority of life in public school.

We all would throw a penny off the top of the Foshay tower downtown. It was the tallest building in town and is still there. Now it’s the smallest tall building in town. Word was if the penny hit someone it would go right through them! Terminal velocity of a coin that weighs the same as a hummingbird.

The elevator was free but you had to use a coin to use the telescopes. It was a Nickle which could buy candy as well. A conundrum to a young anti-social Asperger genius. Three Musketeers or a Butterfinger. Tough choice. I thought the splitting of the Musketeer bar was a nice image of comradery. Too messy, no one ever did it.

So, onto the trolley (which had to switch the electric pickup mast when a change of tracks had to be done) the conductors had neat uniforms and a coin box with a little chrome handle that he would constantly twirl to sort out the coins dropped in. I Still remember the sound. Right hand, kachinka, clatter, kaching, etc. I would Get off on Hennepin avenue and walk down about six blocks to Washington avenue. There was a news stand on the corner and they always had the latest science fiction magazines. Later they hawked Mad magazines along with newspapers from all over the country. The next trolley would take me to the family dentist. Great, fun trip.

The streetcars are long gone, along with their tangle of electric power wires overhead. The tracks are gone and recently, tracks got put back in for fast and quiet streetcars. Metro transit. Every one misses the ding ding bell and the rattle of the glass and chrome change hopper. At least people my age do.

It was much later in the end of the century that I was shopping for my first fiddle and a friend in the string instrument world steered me to that family dentist! It seemed the delicate skill sets were just the thing for fine wood work. Oliver G. Olafson was the dentist/violin maker. He made 26 of them in the 1950’s The auction houses of today know of him and list his violin work as ‘inconsistent’ mine must be a consistent one.

I bought one and my friend bought one too! We called them by special names and they aged well. Since the dentists name was Olafson, mine became Olie.

My dentist was known in Mineapolis’ instrument players circles and the choice was good and neither of us needed dental care at that time. There was no Novocain for us either. The bow cost was even higher. It’s good advice from fiddle pros to spend more on your bow than on the fiddle itself. A local shop had a one star N.R. Pfretzschner bow for a few hundred dollars. The bow is now worth 3 to 6 thousand. It’s a nice bow. Musical instruments get better when they get older. Just like us.

That fiddle of mine is so loud that a microphone is usually not needed in small rooms. It’s a beauty. I am not aware of what it is worth. With age comes wisdom. Sometimes. So far I have not been listed as an antique writer but who knows. I can imagine the antique road show now. “We’ve got an 80 year old Swedish model that is a little careworn. Still has hair of sorts and speaks pretty good.” A lot of miles left on this one!”

Actually I have already been bought and the price was impossible to imagine. You know the buyer, at least I pray that you do. He was a master carpenter and worked with wood . He is known throughout the world. Ask me if you are curious and I can introduce you to Him. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Boundaries and Kindness’

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was 50 years ago, give or take. I was a brand new owner of a small acreage farm. Stranger in a strange land, city boy. Far away from the hustle of neighborhood living on the West Bank of Minneapolis. A.

I needed to be here, leaving behind an early drug gang, bars filled with people just like me. Full of myself and willing to share stories of adventure from 2 years overseas.

I would tell of an adventure in Lebanon trying set a friends soul a whirl. That was a place he always wished he’d been. But It didn’t seem to move him much when I mentioned to him then. He was probably thinking about something else and not a listenin. B.

It got tiresome, a pitcher of beer reappearing after work. My best friend told me: “Get the hell out of there and come up here and live near me!” Good advice and I did so. I met some new friends in a bar about 10 miles away. They liked my stories and I was pleased with these country boys. I was new and as a plus, I didn’t graduate from their high school.

They helped me a lot with country living. Gardening, hiring local small farmers to cut and bail my hay field and great help in general because I was a vet and my best friend lived half a mile away. Bruce, was working for his wife’s father selling fire extinguishers and Scott air pacs. He said I could work for him servicing those Scott air supply systems for local fire stations. I took the training but the job never materialized. That was ok, I still had the railroad track work down in the cities.

Hunting, ice fishing with tip ups and what roads to drive home when leaving the bar at night. They put a 30-06 in my hands in the fall and showed me how to go out and hide behind a tree during deer hunting season. Never saw one but got heard ice groaning and popping while I was out there and that scared me. It was very loud and sounded like two huge whales talking. For a moment I thought it was an alien just over the ridge, down by Trade Lake. I walked back to my house at a rather brisk pace and unloaded. No one else had heard what I did but later that week the locals took me ice fishing and I heard some moans and cracks zipping by. Fish at your own risk. Walk to the shack, leave the pickup at the landing.

I tried again, this time at day and walked back to my southern border with that trusty Winchester and came over a hill and there was another hunter in red flannel. He yelled at me; “What the Hell you doing back here!” I told him we were standing on my land and he turned walked to the property fence and hopped over. I walked right behind him and stuck out my hand across the wire. “Let’s start over again. My names Norm” We shook hands. It was pretty good. We got to be neighbors in process.

It reminded me of walking through a hatch at sea, I was a brand new radioman 3 and walked into Officers country. No big deal to a Lieutenant walking towards me and he helped me understand those boundaries. That’s the way it’s done. He didn’t write me up or complain to his division chief. I blundered in and learned about those things. He asked me who I was, smiled a small smile and said “Welcome aboard” Even shook my hand.

He didn’t complain to the division chief. Boundaries. We all have them, when someone crosses Your boundary do you tell them politely that has happened or do you call the sheriff and have them arrested and fined? Could be language you don’t want to hear or a face that looks at you with a leer. Do you have the where-with-all to say something on the spot or do you go to someone in authority and complain?

Always your choice to fix things right away, the right way, or make someone else screw it up and make everyone feel bad and even punished for a mistake. Civilization 101, courage to own up and courage to encourage. Do you really want someone else to do what’s right for you or can you handle it yourself. Every one wins when communication and contentedness is accomplished. The confrontational solution through another person can result in embracing shame and guilt. Self image problems.

We live in an unconnected and isolated time. Addicted to speed. If someone offends you in someway, do not be a grumbler but shake hands and talk. I try to take it to the Lord and He tells me how to lament hard things too, not to complain and as C.S. Lewis put it, to grumble until you become a grumble.

Taking my own advice, It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

A. Forty Acres of Musicians, { Gators Grace Notes.com }

B. Bob Frank ‘I saw old Jones today ‘