Patterns of Causality

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

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

The Best Advice, the Hardest to Do

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

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

Training Ground

TRAINING GROUND

It wasn’t too bad, looking back. The success’ outweigh the tough parts. That’s the way it looks now anyway. Like boot camp for everyone on the planet, you’re drafted and you have to do it. Just show up and survive. Some don’t survive, some don’t even show up. The draft notice doesn’t come in the mail, it’s not on your email or Facebook. It just comes and it’s pretty obvious what it is.

Report to recruit depot and get prepared for the toughest, most interesting time of your life. Anyone’s life. When it’s over, you can stand tall and be someone that did the right thing. “Fall out! get your uniforms and find your barracks.”

What am I writing about now! It sounds like going to basic training…yes for all of mankind and there is nothing harder nor more rewarding. I have been taking a University Class on Philosophy and it approaches me in strange ways. The last lecture was on Emmanuel Kant. He stated that the greatest example of Moral law was someone sacrificing for another person. Not a cause. Learning how to embrace that concept and make it our operational motive is very hard and can be the only thing we have to decide in this world.

A moral decision. Akin somewhat to the decision to lie to a Nazi guard looking for the Jewish man hiding in your home. Do you lie or do you tell the truth which is a basis for moral decision? Of course, telling the Gestapo the reasoning behind their miscreant behavior would not go well, even though that itself would be telling truth.

These are basic things for maturity, to wrestle with our reasoning. To seek out a ‘basic training’ that will tell us a way to think and act that fulfills, founded in a moral law. A law of civilization. Some folks will say it is tied to survival to assure survival of community and family. Sounds reasonable. Define survival, that’s all that’s required. Evolution aficionados like to use the old tooth and claw to describe survival of the fittest.

That sort of evolution works for watching trees fall when dead and then see what happens to the surrounding forest. Seems rather random to most of us. What if it isn’t? The old silly question: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, is there a sound?” What a ridiculous question! As though sound were a philosophic decision. Can you discern the timpani of that statement?

There are decisions that echo throughout our lives. Often seemingly small decisions. A friend of mine a very good fellow writer put it in 20 words:

What can I do? What should I do? What is God telling me to do? What am I willing to do?” Pretty astute. How indeed do we know what God is telling us to do? It’s a thing that we are taught in basic. Simple in some ways. Keep our mouths shut and pay attention. Don’t call the sergeant sir and don’t embellish the tasks you have been given. That’s boot camp.

Now, we are out of boot and aware that survival depends on paying attention to everything around us. That is key, not fear of the unknown. It’s awareness of who you are, where you are and what can and what should you do. At this time the communication is critical.

I was communications man/radio operator. Handy skill to help me listen. Some of the important messages had such weak signal strength it was only listening intently that made it clear. Shut out the static, the thrum of the ventilator fan and the hatch noise. Stop listening to the ‘world’ and be still. Headphones worked then and now I need self control over static.

As is taught in scripture, it’s not the thunder, the wind and the earthquake that our Lord uses to speak to us. It’s a still small voice and as though you are remembering a conversation you had 15 seconds ago. “Turn left up here” “keep your eyes open” “go visit him, you have the time” “walk slowly and stay alert” These are a few that I remember. Falls in the category of what is God telling me to do.

It usually begins by believing those faint messages are there for you. You alone. Keep listening. He will tell you he loves you right here, right now. Often He will tell me to do something that either seems impossible or simply, I not want to believe what I just heard. It’s OK. The Lord is patient and kind. We can hear Him if we want to. He isn’t going to tell us to go to Africa (usually) and it’s things that we can do to make things right.

It’s pretty good. Norman Peterson/ Jack Gator

My Spirit is Moved Again

Another hot, ‘almost summer’ late May day and the commitment to do something around the farm. The rest of my family was elsewhere in the county working and getting chores and visits done. I was Alone and it was in the high 80’s. Lazing about with my Lewis and MacDonald I heeded the call to work outside. Weed whip the small ditch next to the driveway. I can do that! Get dressed in the jeans with a small chainsaw rip on the left pants leg and a white T shirt.

The battery whip was loaded with four strings and the fully charged delta battery. The big one. I began in the approach to the long mini ditch and swung the whip, side to side and it began to get sweaty. I poked an earlier garden wound on my left forearm and went inside briefly to put on one of those band aids that pulls your skin up when you try to remove it.

Swinging that whip and clogging up once in a while and looking ahead for progress. Taking small bites of foot tall weeds until I was almost out of battery power. I was relieved that the lights where down to one. Time to put the big 60 amp on the charger and check the fridge for lunch. Back to C.S. And perhaps Winship or Bunyan. Improvise the day and cool off.

I was afraid I would fall when I was in the ditch. I sat down to rest and could not get out of that ditch. I have an old Karate move of swinging my legs beneath me to stand. It did not work as everything was uphill. I finally scooted out and then flipped upright. The fear of being unable to move was surprising. Fear mode, small or large is not an operative mode to be in.

Is that where I am in world view? Fearful from past experience and therefore always afraid. Of who, what or when it all started. Sixty years ago. I would be unable to ‘get up’ Maybe it was fifty. Trapped and unable to ‘get up and just go’ We all have those remnants, akin to spilled food by a careless sweep of an elbow. Now it’s on the floor and nothing will bring it back. Tasty toast or a tasty meal of doing what we always want to do. Move about and pick up ourselves and justget onboard with our train of thought.

Fear of being chased by a perverted relative, fear of the bully. Fear of the guard who wanted to just see the fear when he stared at me with humor of dominance. The kangaroo court, handcuffs and out of control. Is this my world view? I will be unable to escape the floor, the ditch, or the death we all fear?

“Fear not for I am with you” The words of my creator that I read and listen to. Truth as was asked of Him. What is truth? We are eternal beings and He loves us. How indeed can I fear Him and His love presence?

It’s pretty good! Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Embracing Jesus at the Fence

I needed to pull some steel staples from a corner post. The garden fence was coming down and was going to be ‘recycled’ as a fence for the upcoming chicken yard. A prison exercise yard with out weights and the tough guys with fur are usually on the other side of the fence.

The first time I had chickens a half century ago, I was pleased with the eggs and felt like a real small farm owner. One day I looked north from the kitchen window and saw a fox running next to the north fence line with a pillow in it’s mouth! Very new at agronomy I quickly realized the big white object was a chicken. Time for a chicken yard my neighbors informed me. Now, half a century later, a new chicken yard was being planned with the old inadequately high garden fence.

The deer ate our snap peas, beans, tops of the broccoli and brussels sprouts last season. Some of the flowers were nipped in the bud but the Kale was OK. Figures. Time to put in all wood posts and 7 ½ foot coated fencing. That fence would ‘discourage’ the deer and we would be able to eat fresh veggies this summer.

Thus the old perimeter fence was in process of removal and as it was bent around the corner posts, it was held on by those steel brads/ staples very firmly, top and bottom. It was my job to remove them and help roll up the old fencing. The damaged fencing had to be yanked out and flattened to take to the scrap yard along with the barbecue, T posts, truck rims. Those things had reached the end of their service life.

I had to lie down on the grass to pry out that spiked metal with a judiciously placed screw driver. A hammer assisted the placement and the prying went well. I was pausing after setting my ‘lever’ and looking at our home and being pleased and astonished..again..at what had been done in a half century at this homestead. White siding with sun ray blue half moon trim over the gable ends and upper windows.

I always said I wanted to go as Matthew did in Green Gables. Out by the fence just falling over I was in the perfect place with the perfect spirit to realize this was eminent. Bright sun and the spring weather was in the high sixties. I laid my head back, on my side I surrendered and reached out with my arms for Jesus and held tight. It was right, it was perfect and Julie and Soren would find me just as I had spoken to them about this scenario. I soon awoke to the son in my face and felt relieved and disappointed. Not now but the beauty will never leave me

The staple came out, the spikes came out and the post was free of it’s burden. Once again Jesus had touched me and told me how he loved my surrender and it was pretty good.

Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Photo of post courtesy Jaqui Dawson

“Esse Est Percipi” [ To Be Seen as Who We Are]

A Latin saying that goes back to Greek thought and perception of our souls The absolute need for connection to purpose of our lives. To be perceived as to who we are.

Are we pulled or pushed towards who we are? Causality is pushing and Teleology is being pulled towards a goal. Not fate but Telos which Aristotle defined as pulled to a definite end. That thought, that my soul (Greek diamon) is seen and known and helped by all circumstance. Finalized. Why did that happen to me, and if so, how can this be?

A book I have recently read by James Hillman, Souls Code, brings these issues to the forefront I cannot put the book under others by my living room chair. More and more of this wisdom from an author that does not mention faith, but through inference breezes quickly past it.

I cannot set it down. From Ingmar Bergman’s ‘Through a glass darkly’ to Adolph Hitlers Mein Kampf comes the brilliant analysis by psychologist Hillman of the mystery of our lives. Not found in the cards or in the stars can the guidance or reason can be discerned. Often we refer to the revealed path for us as from a guardian angel. Hitler was listening elsewhere.

I wrote a column on that thought in ‘Prayer in the Big City hospital‘ Upon leaving a room where a friend was recuperating, I met a young man walking slowly down the hallway. I spoke with him and he initially said he was recovering and I did not have to walk slowly.

I told him it was OK with me and at the end of that corridor I asked him if I could pray for him and put my hand on his shoulder while praying. When we parted he asked me if I was an angel. I said “no but I have been sent”. I do not remember what I prayed for him. Almost always I never do remember what I prayed for someone. It is given to me on the spot by the Holy Spirit and He never forgets it.

It was not a usual encounter between strangers for him at that moment and perhaps it was Telos that put me there. It seems to be one of the most essential things I had ever done for another person. Perhaps ever. Finalism. God’s will and Divine plan is the definition of that word.

Post hoc ergo Propter hoc (it had to be)

There is a thread t hat runs through our lives, if one can call it a thread. The voice of the Holy Spirit that pulls us to that path that leads Telos and purpose. Not creating our lives but instead, guiding us to Holiness and a path we can choose to follow. A gentle and powerful word if we decide to listen.

Ask for these things and pray to Jesus for His guidance. Teleology indeed! It’s pretty good.

Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Railroad Wreckage

I lost half of my seniority with the railroad but it was worth it to transfer up to NW Wisconsin. Commuting to my job on the Dinky Town railroad section was getting a little dreary when I moved ‘up north’ to a small house with 30 acres. Driving every morning with my blue 1947 Ford coupe to Minneapolis was the cost of the veteran’s loan approval. Of course, getting the loan in the beginning was harder than the drive to pay it off.

The paperwork alone helped heat my new house in the wood stove that I had little experience to run. The better words would be ‘no experience.’ I bought a chain saw, a bicycle and a splitting maul from my old friends hardware store on the West Bank in Minneapolis. I also had an old GM pickup to haul the firewood from the state forest about 15 miles north of my new digs. I had that pickup out in California and lived in a little house I built on it. I gave the little house to a friend for his child’s playhouse.

Of course, at that early time [1975] there was not much commuter traffic as the concept of commuting had not taken hold. That was a good thing as Led headlights had not taken hold nor been invented either. Being blinded by a new pickup these days with lights that illuminate about twenty miles of road is now somewhat of a hindrance to a long drive.

At those early times the drive was dreary and dangerous too asI had to keep a wing window open for fresh air to keep the CO gas out. Tiring it was to drive a long way with an exhaust leak. It seems white tailed deer had not been invented yet either, at least the ones that commuted across highways. However, back then, cars weighed a lot and had real bumpers. Sometimes you knew when you hit one. my job was on the section at DinkyTown, right across the river from my old neighborhood, The West Bank.

So, pulling into the section yard and perhaps being called to do some ‘back breaking’ jobs outside of the section. Derailments, road crossings and laying ribbon rail were some outside jobs. The section would survive a few days without continuous maintenance. myself and big Leroy were called out to put in the dome spikes on crossings. They were about two feet long and had to be pounded through the crossing planks down into the heavy black ties beneath. Swinging those 16 pound malls was a young man’s task. The spikes would rotate going down and had teeth that would engage the plank at the last swing. The deterioration to L4 and L5 began then. Leroy was well over six foot seven and weighed around 250 or so.

When I transferred up to the ‘farm’ with it’s pump jack well and log barn I was green to the isolated rural life. A few new friends I met at the local watering holes helped me adapt. Wood burning stoves and chimney rebuilding it was made doable with these other young men who grew up working the farms. It was quiet and the only link to the outside world was the black wall phone by the sink and a new princess phone next to the wall in my bedroom. The phone was out of reach unless I was in bed.

I got transferred to a section gang closer by over in Minnesota and gained respect with my strength and accuracy of work. The road master would call for me to put the pin into a switch actuator while he held the pin at the two holes. “Get Norm up here” I never missed with the spike mall, never. That back damage was still lurking but not complaining much yet. It was good work and respected by the locals. They knew strength from farm work. In spite of all the good camaraderie with my new crew, I was transferred to another section, closer to home.

When I showed up, the foreman immediately insulted me about my pony tail and gave me a job in the yard that was hard, demeaning and unpleasant. It involved jumping from a ladder into grain cars to sweep them our of grain dust. Just punishment for being different, an old hippie from those years of the San Francisco days. I found out later that no one ever did that sweeping job.

This was the last straw for my back. At home after work, I suddenly could not get up from a sitting position on the porcelain throne and collapsed in agony on the floor. I could crawl but standing was impossible. It was also impossible to call for help. “The first day and night was the worst. The second day and night was the worst too. After that and no water, I began to go into a bit of a decline”. 1.

The cat water bowl helped a little and eventually I listened to another five words from the Lord for a way out of death.

I pulled all the clothes out of the lowest dresser drawers and the bed sheets and blankets and made a ramp I could roll up into the bed. Grabbing the phone next to the wall up there I then called for help, I do not recall any more than waking at the hospital and being somewhat free of pain. Drugs. I remembered the addiction to heroin I had and was a bit concerned about this but the lack of pain was OK.

( The first five word rescue was audible and I wrote that story in Motorcycle Diary 5)

Hot and cold packs, traction and hospital food (motivator) did it’s work and I could walk again and the railroad days were over for good .The railroad docked me pay for not showing up for work and then granted me a few months to recover. I had to get a lawyer to sue for the jumping order and consequences.

I thank the Lord for saving my life. Again. It’s pretty good.

Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

1.. Douglas Adams Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

The Story of God

A sunny and cold February morning while the temps are single digits and the parlor stove at my back is going well. I am up early and typing to share these things with the world.

The stats in my dashboard tell me there are 12 countries or so that have read these short missives. I am satisfied. My coffee cup by my left hand and the keyboard in front of me.

It’s early and still dark and I have my headphones on and I am listening to singers from Kansas City praising the Lord . A Live broadcast.

From the garden, to the desert, to the mountain, to the Heavens. It’s The story, the story of the Glory of God.” It brings me back to singing those spontaneous chorus’ as we worshiped at church’s all through the state. The Wellspring team.

There are times now when I can capture those precious moments that occur spontaneously where I now work in video production. Just a week ago I got a shot of a singer on stage right

“Ready 3, take 3” Simple com instruction and that shot, taken briefly makes it out to the broadcast that goes to the side screens, the lobby and perhaps the Web-stream to many around the world. It’s the best I can envision coupled with my tears at it’s beauty and perfection of worship at it’s best.

All of you have experienced these stunning events. Your eyes filled with sudden tears and briefly overcome with unexpected glimpses of beauty and eternity. Just for you, right then and right now.

I try to share them as best I can. A butterfly’s close kiss, the sunset or sunrise that takes your breath away. Too quickly to grab a camera and share it with loved ones.

Treasure that lingers, forever yours. A gift from our Lord. It’s pretty good. Norm Peterson / Jack Gator.

RED camera at Lino Lakes Campus. Camera 3