jesus

Inward

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It seemed to have started back in the fifties, An uneasiness, the knowledge that there was no future, for anyone. There was a war and it wasn’t the usual war for a child in grade school. Suddenly the sirens became active and it sounded like the battle for Britain in the old grade school classroom. Becoming a musician playing piano, I liked the low bass notes as the siren dropped octaves and finished akin to a huge motor coming to a stop. You know the sound, every small town in America has one.

It’s a horn and it rotates just like a Leslie B3 organ. Whooping and penetrating with incredible sound pressure from high on the highest building in town. The tornado warning horn. It means extreme danger and take cover. Right away. ‘Duck and cover’ under your desk, the one with metal and wood and then you will be safe from imploding windows. Waiting for the brilliant flash and having seen the Nevada test sites from WWII, the houses blown to bits by a wave of impossible destruction, obliteration. The desk and you would be vapor and the world, as you know it, would disappear along with your Hopalong Cassidy lunch box with a delicious Skippy peanut butter sandwich inside and a tasteless ‘delicious’ apple included. Maybe a thermos of chocolate milk too.

The bomb did not show up, but my belief in a world of wonder and beauty would disappear into the vapor of a lost reason to live. Many times I have had similar excuses for my behaviors.

Those things made me who I am but now, I can glimpse what I am becoming because of Divine providence. This side of eternity, we do not understand many things. I don’t.

It was so easy to look inward for my purpose and my strength. To believe I was the captain of my life and as I stated in one of my columns, inconvenient, every one and every thing was in the way of my fulfillment. Fatherless and basically homeless while living at home gave me the opportunity to create my own world. The church I was taken to every Sunday, all the special clothing and titles and programs was organized by what seemed to be a circus director. Keeping the show going and making certain everyone knew their place. The stained glass ceilings were pretty high up there. Even a scaffold wouldn’t take you high enough to break through. Corporate.

I went inwards and created a world I could control. All the pitfalls were mine to enjoy and even embrace counter culture that embraced me as one of their own. Timothy Leary’s famous quote, [Smash your brains, crack em] Communes that promised freedom became another church with rules and behaviors. Give us your truck, we need it for the farm project. Living in a house that had 30 people with only one bathroom. There was no such thing as privacy. It became surreal and everyone had a path they couldn’t wait to share.

I was in several communes for awhile, a long while. I grokked the ‘youth no future’ crowd. Again, we were masters of our universe that was a spinning cluster of stars within our bellies. Wisdom abounded and it was rubbish. More circus acts. I got older and eternity knocked so gently on my spirit and bid me come. “Leave that life behind and follow Me” Jesus said, a real life, real moral values not special robes and adoration. Just be who you were meant to be and embrace real life.

When asked what his goal was in life a man responded “ Get to college and get a good degree. Then go on to increasing positions in the work place to gather wealth. Then I will have enough money to send my kids to college.”

There is a song by Blood, Sweat and Tears , spinning wheel and it ends with a verse that says:
“ Some one is waiting, just for you” Who is waiting just for me and for you? Special us and all our wheeling around is just on training wheels.

I’m going to hop on that Norton Commando 650 and catch up to Elijah and his flamed out chariot. We can ride, side by side, and park on the sea of glass and shout and sing. Creation and created in awe and wonder with eternity to wonder and see Him turn his face towards us and give us peace. It’s pretty good, Jack Gator, Scribe

With much thanks to Henri Nouwen‘s The Wounded Healer

Acronyms and Uniforms

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It starts out simple enough. Mama and Papa. Our first acronyms of our world. Mamma E Papa in Italian (of course if you live in southern Italy you drop the last vowel. Mamm E Pap.

It’s easier to communicate in ‘shorthand’ it saves time and everyone knows it anyway.

We all use them and sometimes, it distinguishes us as belonging. For example: ER for emergency room, scrubs for clothes therein. DX or WX for radio lingo which translates to Distance and Weather. If you use those you are either a radio guy or an officer of the law.

Uniforms usually pocket protectors or turn outs and vests.

Lately, I have been accepted into an invisible society that wears all black and uses some neat acronyms. Bogo, Shader, Switcher and ME’s. There are a LOT of them in every subset of our world. I like ‘worlds’ describing command structures. They either confuse and you respond with “Hmm or that sounds interesting” instead of another acronym that shows they are also a member. AD or lyrics would work. At least there is no secret handshake.

I became aware of different societies at an early age when I became an amateur radio operator, or ‘Ham’ we communicated with Q signals showing we belonged and because it made long sentences into an acronym. Police have the same thing going for them. I can always tell if someone has a background in communication when they use A as in Alpha, B as in Bravo and so forth. Q is Quebec by the way.

Hams had uniforms too. Quick draw slide rules and pocket protectors were De Rigueur. Flannel shirts were optional. All the jocks had special words too. Not worth the ink to repeat.

We all do it, we all belong to a segment of society that has special words and language. Deacon, Bishop and repentance along with special clothing at times. Nothing wrong with those things either. All this is how we deal with the world and try to understand it. It’s tribal. If you believe in evolution, the concept of a trousered ape. Authur C. Clarke comes to mind with the movie featuring a thrown bone by a ‘caveman’ turning into a space station.

We use everything to make distinction between us. I belong. We do so wish to belong don’t we? Family is sweet and feels reassuring. There is certainly a family that we can join together and there are no uniforms and very few acronyms involved. The one uniform that seems to be recognized is a light in the eyes and a demeanor that draws you. There is desire to share lives and the excitement of encouraging one another. Jesus and His spirit and belonging to Him. You don’t even have to dress the same. Just draw a fish in the sand and you are bonded. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

A Moment of Silence

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was one of those wonderful, stunning, and even a personal world changer kind of movie. Perhaps you can bring one to mind right away. For a while, we just watch the film and enjoy and laugh at the times that laughter is perfectly appropriate. It’s a good film I thought. I like it and it describes a bit of real life that speaks to me.

Unexpectedly, those films grab a hold of your past. So clear and so relevant a grabbing that with an astonished response, I became the emotion brought out in the film. It was a well done film and it was expected that the main character would be changed somehow. Brought out of brokenness and somehow, restored to the way that he should be.

There was a scene in the movie that this wounded man was given a simple task by another man, sitting with him in a crowded restaurant. Asked to just think of the people in his life that made him the unique man he was. The only one like him ever made as are the rest of us. Unique and loved and nurtured in ways we do not understand often. One minute of silence. I watched and was silent too. The actors were silent and it was a perfect time for me to do the same thing. Thinking of the people that grew me up and made what I now am .

There were sudden tears as I remembered a long remembered wound. My precious cat that slept with me every night, a real life teddy bear that purred and loved to be with me. It was the most precious thing in my life. The cat loved me and I loved the cat. Grade School onward. A solid thing that a lot of us have or have had that is really special. Some of my friends and family know the story, especially my recent counselor, who at the time knew right away what the cat meant to me.

I came home from junior high school and did not find the cat in my room. Puzzled, I asked my mother when she came home if she knew where the cat was. “Grandpa had him killed because when my new husband and I go on our honeymoon, it would be inconvenient when you stay with Grandpa when we are gone” Speechless and wounded beyond repair, I disappeared into myself for decades of my life. No one ever again be trusted with my precious emotions and loves.

The man in the movie was crying and so was I. The people who grew us up and made us who we are. One of a kind. Special. Loved. Some that I never forgave. Interesting word, forgive. It seems it means to give something special, a before giving leading to freedom. And yet, Grandpa was kit and kin and had a lot to give in some way to make me who I am. The man in the movie forgave and at the same time, watching and listening, I forgave Grandpa and realized what had just happened.

I am forgiven too. For betrayal, for hurting others, and a list of embarrassing and painful things I have done. Now I realized what was learned. To forgive as I have been forgiven by my eternal best friend. The friend who talks to me and can actually forgive all the bad things and the thoughts that I have kept within. The only man in my life who can do that. When I cry out for freedom from the pain I have embraced so long, Jesus embraces me.

“In the morning and the evening, in the darkness and the daylight, he is with you, He is for you. He is before you, and behind you, and beside you and within you, He is with you. He is for you, He is for you. Amen!” 1.

It’s pretty good. Jack Gator 1. thanks to Steph Mcleod for the inspiration in ‘The Blessing’

Random Life or Free Choice

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 1 Comment

The brilliant Irish Physicist, Erwin Schrodinger put out some philosophical and even Religious thoughts and writings. Nobel prize winner, friend of Albert Einstein and a fellow at Magdelen College. I speculate he possibly met C.S. Lewis who was a Don there (near Oxford) Both of them brilliant. Erwin, the discoverer of the double helix, wrote about Quantum Orbits and illustrated it in a unique way.

Schrodinger’s cat is a famous piece that speculates on a cat in a box that could be affected by a random quantum event. That event would kill the cat BUT the only way to find out if the cat is alive or dead is to open the box. Some speculations of the unified field theory speculate that the cat be both alive and dead!

What does all this high calculation lead us to? There is more to it than meets the mind. In fact, in the year I was born, Erwin wrote a paper titled, “What is Life” It was 1944 if you must know.

Many speculations from recent time, Greece in old times from philosophers abound. Aristotle and his pupil, Plato is a good place to start on logic. Perhaps Douglas Adams and his classic “Life the Universe and Everything” or even my treatise: The beginning and the end and all the important stuff in between. There are a few others at the website.

It all seems pretty heady and things left to those smarter than we are. Are they? Or are they much to same as us. Filled with wonder and trying to find meaning to their lives. As you have discerned, I am having a lot of fun writing about these things. It helps me look deep and find myself in the fabric of life. I have made some very bad choices and also some pretty good ones.

There is a great gift from our creator that enables us to make choices. We can love other people or hate them. We can choose to embrace our lives or live in fear that we are the cat in the box. Waiting for some random event to do something to or for us. Random things like car crashes or winning a lottery. An early death or prolonged life (figure it out, 1944 for me means pretty old).

We want to live forever, all of us and we have a free choice to do so. It’s a promise from our Lord and Savior.

A friend thinks he is just “worm food” when he dies, his choice really. I have been given a very rare gift in choice. Free choice. What a blessing when I heard five words in a locked room: “Life or death, choose now” Addicted to heroin at the time, I chose life. The quantum particle headed for me was gone. Life has it’s weeping and it’s joy and those are with all of us. We can choose life and trust that Jesus is for us, not against us, and he is good no matter what our circumstances. Let Him be your guide, no matter what, and choose him. He will even show you what choices you have if you listen to Him. It’s pretty good, Jack Gator, scribe

Old Fashioned Or Antiques?

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

There they sit until the next auction. Plates, cups, bowls and saucers. Mahogany furniture and kitchen utensils. Machinery and huge steam powered…things..Barn ventilator caps and do dads and gimcracks and folderall. Gewgaws, and the best one of all, Tchoktchke. The last one comes from Yiddish Tshatshke (or an absolete Polish word, Czaczko.)

You can find them in really nice corner cabinets with glass doors, on top of upright pianos or just scattered about the house, seemingly at random. Placed with a discerning eye or propriety and in need of occasional dusting. Dust the Hummel’s at your own risk

Everyone has their faves and lists for the spouse to browse local second or third hand stores. Why do we do this? Perhaps we are hanging onto an older time, perceived as more a genteel one.

Excepting the black buggies of the Amish, stagecoaches are in that category but cannot be displayed, unless you own a herd of horses and a nice driveway or fence line to park it so it is visible. Old ‘collectible’ vehicles are a bit bulky but store on the property..somewhere.

“That’s an old Edsel! It’s worth a lot of money!” Does it run? “Well.., no but I’m workin’ on it.” The Montana vehicle parking lot sort of thing.

We collect stuff, we built a 20 foot shed and lean to just to store some of it. It was full less than a few months later. Big stuff and shelves for parts for the big stuff. You know the list. That old lawn tractor that just needs a new engine and few tires. The old walk behind snow thrower that needs a carburetor and a little paint. Nostalgic and useful stuff. Sort of.

What else that is old and worth saving? My favorite one that is still used, is the long wrap around bookshelves you can see from the living room, up on the balcony walk around. 3D wallpaper. Books from many centuries ago and great illustrated children’s books. Dr. Suess’ Birthday Bird type of stuff. The best antiques of them all as it is OK and right to handle them. Flip through an old Aristotle or a McDonald and find a page that randomly jumps out at you and then it goes downstairs to be added to the random stack by the big rocking chair.

Lately, the stack has been centered around middle ages literature. Most recently one about St. Ignatious of Loyola (early 16th century). The somewhat forgotten wisdom sears truth into me and Julie about this founder of the Jesuits. Lectio Divina, Interacting with God, Oratio, talk to Him, and my favorite, Contemplato, sit in His presence. Timeless and recently, perfectly timed for these times. With our ceaseless scurry to satisfy the emptiness in us with all the stuff we gather, or, think we must gather, to help us be satisfied and joyful. I need to be reminded that essential wisdom is found in another old book that helps me to contemplato our Creator and His plans to love me and never let me go. Ever. I seem to be the collectible for Him. Made by Him before I was even conceived, before the written history of the universe He knew me and helped form me into the man I am. Created to glorify Him and tell other people about Him and His Love. It’s pretty good. (The other old book is the Bible, its good to have several versions.) Norm Peterson / Jack Gator

Interruption

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 1 Comment

How many interruptions occurred today? I just get started on writing some really inspiring column and my phone bleeps. Perhaps Julie stops by my desk in mid word or thought and asks simple question or mentions a task that I forgot or was important to her?

It happens every day to all of us. I have seen drivers behind me get furious when I interrupt the velocity they were driving or even slow down so they can pass me safely. We are a busy people and focused on the tasks of our lives. Driven to accomplish what we have set before us by ourselves. Pushing that shopping cart at warp speed to get to those sale items or just some orange juice. Fuming at a cart parked right in front of the shelf we need to examine.

A very wise older priest said: “ I complained for too long that my work was constantly being interrupted, until I discovered the my interruptions were my work” A.

Resentment that my life was not going the ‘perfect’ way I had planned hours or minutes before. I have learned that instead of the irritation I can turn these things into concentration or even conversation. The shopper or the clerk ‘facing’ a shelf for example. I stop, park my cart out of the way, pretend I am looking elsewhere and glancing at the workers name tag, then address them and ask how things are going. Pretty busy today eh. Or perhaps say: “excuse me, could you direct me to the place where I can find organic beef broth? An interruption for them but not rushed. Quiet and gentle. It works and I learn a little bit about grace and even can ask them as they answer how it’s going today in the store. I learn and once in a while can listen to a slight problem they have, just listen and acknowledge the common lives we lead. Humanity 101.

At home or with friends that stop by (interrupting my precious time at work) I find with listening that what they need done in speaking or asking is an opportunity to give the love and attention I am asked to do. Gently spoken by my best friend and gentle guide, Jesus. He is never interrupted. He teaches me how to live my life and quickly quiets my anxiety with His voice.

The rush and bustle I absorb from the times I live in stops, and helps me realize indeed, this is my work for today. To affirm love and concern to another. To let them know they are important to me and perhaps dismiss apologies from them. “sorry for interrupting you” with a simple “Oh, that’s OK, I was in no rush” something gentle and affirming them that they are more important to me than my agenda. I listen and learn and even affirm. I like it. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator.

A. Henri Nouwen “Spiritual Formation”

Why Do We Pray to our Lord

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

Immediately after the illuminating and inspired message from a man before us is an invitation for those in the room to come to the front if they wish for prayer. It was my first assignment to assist, to help those who would know their hunger enough to be bold and come forward.

My first experience at this large church gathering as I came out to a landing high above the room I began to weep, immediately. I was overcome with the hunger I felt from a thousand souls facing forward. Was it my hunger I asked. “Yes it is also their hunger that is now overwhelming you with all men’s hunger.” Like all of us as children when we need bread for our body, we run towards our parents for food but it is first of all we need their love.

I went down the long side stairway to the main floor and did not trip with my worn shoes and soul. I went forward to stand before the huge bass bins (speakers) and faced the room with my friend who knew what to do and knew I was in the right place with him. Still stunned by the voice that told me it was hunger that all of us have. What can I say to them that ask me for prayer? Those words are suddenly given.

A handful of a thousand felt that hunger and came to us to tell them once again, that He loves them, in that moment. They needed to know that He would never leave them when their world grows dark and holds them in His arms and loves them the He way he always does.

The real needs we have for healing and assurance are always known by our eternal Father. His desire is first for us to reach towards His heart and loving presence. The giver of life wants to give us Himself and indeed tell us once again of His love. His Spirit in our hearts is kindled to flame and His tender voice is heard.

The tears flow among them as the hunger for Him brings forth His presence once again, in that moment, He holds us close and fills us with the bread of life. The one thing that we needed, the only thing. It is the wonder of the words, audible at times when we are alone, that indeed say, “It’s OK, I am with you right here, right now.”

Most of us are a bit shy about asking for prayer and just the moving forward to ask another to join in with you is brave surrender. In the past, prayer with others was done by a handful of us behind doors. It started in our pastors office, then we moved to a small room that had a sign on it. Prayer. It’s a declaration of hunger for God to others and the others are most likely just as hungry to join you. After all, Jesus said when two or more of us join together this way, He is among us.

It’s pretty good, Jack Gator

Thanks once again for George MacDonald and Jon Thurlow for truth written and often sung.

Strategic Prayer Command

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It was a white van, one of those tall ones that have a contractor’s business painted on the sides. Sometimes on the front hood as well, but reversed so you can read it in your rear view. That is an oddity of mirrors we get used to. I never even think I am really shaving the right side of my face when it looks like the left.

So the van was parked at a loading dock at the local church building. Right away I want to make that clear. The building houses the church. Usually it is called the church of…something. Named after one of the gift’s of the Spirit. A rarely seen one is the First church of Self Control.

The white van had the sides (and the hood) painted with the name of the group: Easy Yoke of Deliverance. Obviously transporting something that was needed for the people at the church building. e)narevileb fo ekoy ysae seen walking up to the front of the van. That way you can see it in your mirrors!

I stopped to chat with the driver and he had a name badge on and was very friendly. It wasn’t long after that he asked me if he can pray for me. Seemed appropriate with the cross over the loading dock and all. I asked him why he would do so for me, a stranger. He told me that compassion is the fruit of solitude and the basis of all ministry. A pretty old saying from St. Anthony from the fourth century. Wisdom, given to me from two thousand years ago that was timeless. The more I mulled it over, the more sense it made. I called myself a Christian, but had never experienced nor heard these things. Intrigued and stunned, I wanted to hear more.

His prayer was short and unusual. There was no ‘Christianese’ and flowery language. He prayed right into me and told me simple things that I struggle with and that there was great hope in Christ who lives in my heart. Stunned and pleased with that directness, I began to follow the people that hopped out of the van. They waved a plastic pass card and entered into the building.

They knew the driver had prayed for me and waved me in with them.

It was fairly early in the day and the lobby had only a dozen people moving about. It was obvious that ‘services’ were being anticipated and the waft of fresh brewed coffee was in the air. It was pleasant and there was a genuine welcome in the air too.

The driver came alongside of me and showed me about this large and pleasant atrium and the second floor area as well. Everyone we met had a name badge and they were moving about cleaning, preparing snacks in a room for them and popping popcorn! My escort prayed with a handful of them and I saw from the balcony other groups of two and three doing the same for one another. My escort (Bryan) prayed for the popcorn man and we walked about with a fresh bag and greeted and prayed for more staff and volunteers we encountered.

Escorted into the huge empty sanctuary I promptly began to feel tears welling up and asked if it was hunger going on with me or an anticipation of the people soon to fill the empty seats. The answer was yes. This was definitely not church as usual. I was in love and knew beyond doubt, I was in love with the builder of this building, the town, the city and the planet. The builder and giver of life to me and everyone that I saw. Never had this happen before and I have never been the same since. That answer “yes” just came into my thoughts with clarity and authority. Still does.

I stuck around and I was captured by this love. Eventually, I joined this team I met and the joy at praying for people was so refreshing, I had to do this. Not only in the building, but everywhere I went. I began to be bolder and found baristas and store owners along with commercial drivers that deliver packages to me, welcoming the prayers. I now ‘see’ the hunger for that romance of Christ’s love. What a gift! I never seem to run out of that gift I can give now. There was a lot of preparation for me before I saw that white van. It became very clear that my life had been formed and fashioned to cradle the love of Christ. It took a long time for me, but there are similar stories. I thought I was through and tired of life. I was actually tired of death.

A new ‘job’ or calling as the van driver told me. One of the best jobs and the benefits are all written down in the company brochure, the Bible. It’s pretty good. See you there. Jack Gator scribe

The Twins of Our Life

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 2 Comments

It is not as a child that I believe and confess Jesus Christ. My hosanna is born of a furnace of doubt.” ~Fyodor Dostoyevski

It is indeed, Doubt that is essential to the path of faith in Christianity. At first, it seems that doubt is gone, once faith is embraced. But is it? I must confess that I doubt at times in the seemingly impossible promises of eternal life and all that precedes it.

Protection, provision, guidance and comfort. At times it seems my life is not protected nor provided for and the comfort I desire seems as though it is the carot out of my grasp. The guidance is forgotten for a bit and I lapse into some sort of swampy thoughts. It takes the silence to look back on my life when I have been blessed by all the excellent things that I have not even asked for.

Simple things that have been the foundation of the questioning expression on my face. You know that move of your own face. A slight tilt of your head, a slight frown and the wrinkle of the forehead. Looking down a bit and your eyes pulled in along with the frown. Sort of a sad look combined with the look of puzzlement. Trying to understand a missing thing. A lost tool or something said that you didn’t quite hear. Doubt of your ability to understand or grasp reality. Doubt and confusion coupled. That can’t be right. I just saw that object. What did she say? Things akin to doubting your own understanding and not quite trusting your memory of touch, sound, sight and proprioceptive sense of balance. Off kilter in puzzlement.

Perhaps tripping over your own feet and falling to the ground or falling to the depth of your being. Doubt.

In isolation it can be devastating. With the help of someone who loves you, there is a helping hand. Reaching in to pull you up out of your fear. Love abounding to once again, reassure and rescue us from our own self doubt. A rescue that can give faith. “You’ve got this, your OK and I am here beside you, always.

Faith in another one’s words and showing you your own worth. Faith in the words of your rescuer.

This is the path to remove the doubt, the doubt that diminishes and eliminates faith. This path is well known and written about in scripture. Everyone has doubts. I look back when I feel the doubt sleeting into me. I look back on the miracles and to others, impossible communications I have been blessed with. Indeed, the helping hand of our rescuer. Jesus. He has been with me when I did not know who He was. He has whispered words to warn and guide my life to love rather than follow my indifference or even hatred of other people and really, myself.

The only way for me is to silence my mind and listen. A very old desert father in the third century put it perfectly. “Where is your savior? Why don’t you ask Him yourself? He said listen” He doesn’t lie to me and if I really am quiet and listen, He will talk to me and tell me truth about the path of Holiness. That narrow path that anyone can walk. Neither looking left nor right but walking true. Listen and walk true to the spirit of God.

It’s Pretty good. Jack Gator, scribe

Hit and Miss

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 1 Comment

Working the railroad section and riding the crew car to the work site. You’ve seen them, short and yellow metal with the crew riding in the open. Putt putting down the track. An amazing thing about them is how they go in reverse. Shut the ignition off and as the slow, single cylinder engine puts it’s last putt before coming to a stop turn the ignition back on at just the right time, and it begins to run in the opposite direction!

Handy, no gear box needed. This is a akin to my life at times. When I feel that I am going in the wrong direction, I have to quiet my self and listen to someone else to discover the path that leads to peace and even back the way I came and finding the place I began. Just shut off as His spirit begins to quiet my chattering mind.

As I like to say, “A suddenly occurs” and a sunrise begins to warm my face and reminds me, once again, there is light that shows that path upon the narrow road. A path that I am guaranteed not to go astray upon.

I am reminded at times about navigation with a compass and sextant when lost at sea, going in the wrong direction. The reliable clock in my possession tells me where the sun and compass should be. I ‘shoot’ the sun and drop it to the horizon to tell me where I am with the compass and chart and make a correction of direction. Harder to do in an area with strong magnetic fields but through a learned skill, I can now make what is called ‘dead reckoning’ a good decision to continue.

I know I am off course at times and the quietness gives me time to realize I am dead again and I need to hear that still, small voice that tells me the course to take. I reckon and quietly hear the true course laid out. The chart book always is right and after reading it, the course is set once again.

It’s relatively easy to get off course, we all do it. We have to shut our engine down and often reverse course to get to where we started and find the track we should have gone down. Love and forgiveness of offense, forgiveness to our self image for taking the wrong course too. It happens to everyone. Listen the the true navigator of our lives and look to the Son and bring his light close to our horizon. Not easy, I have to learn how to use that sextant of my spirit and read the chart. The Bible. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator