People sometimes refer to this 2 am hour as the "middle of the night." I really don't know what to call these single digit numbers that are part af every twenty four. This was, at one time, the approximate hour I would be getting off work. The club's last call would have been uttered at 1:30ish and the other guys in the band and I would be wrapping up the third and final show for the night. Breakfast happened next, at about a quarter to three, followed by the remaining acitivities that went on until after dawn. What a life that was! There are certainly times I miss it, but as with all other parts of our lives there are no "do overs!" The ironies of life amaze me at times, they shouldn't, but they do! Sunday morning I listened as Gavin worked his way through the meatier, as in cutting cutting to the bone, sections of his sermon on divorce. A short time ago I got a call from my youngest daughter. She was in a tearful, fearful state in regard to her stepfather's health. His heart has not been good, and at the present time he is in a hospital an hour from here fighting for his life. I am praying for him, for my ex-wife, and for all of our children, and all of his children, and for his ex-wife and their grandchildren, as well. I was Ken's(my daughter's step dad)ex-wife's pastor for four years. If this is beginning to sound complicated, it is, but even out here on the Great American Desert we have stuff that happens that is pretty much "parr for the course" along with the rest of the world in which we reside. I asked Jazz(my youngest daughter)if I should drive down. She said, "no, that might not be a very good idea."
You see, there has never been any healing from the divorces, and the individuals involved are still filled with bitterness, resentment, and hatred(I can only say that I've never really had a 'problem' in any of those directions)that has a tendency to erode even the most caring of hearts. Ken's a really good man, we shared a passion for motorcycles 25 years ago, and still do today, but we can't talk to one another as a result of the interpersonal stuff that has occurrred. I believe that God is at work in all of this, and my most fervent prayers are offered up in hopes that he will survive, and if he does not, that he knows my Savior, personally! I suppose that if I look at things logically, that since I was baptizing his children when I referred to myself as his ex-wife's pastor, I was theoretically his, as well. I wasn't the preacher that finally got him to attend church regularly, and for that I am certain there were reasons. We always seemed to get along fairly well out west during the Sturgis rally, but when we returned to this side of the state we lived in two very separate worlds. According to God's plan(it certainly wasn't one I would have chosen)our worlds collided headlong when he married my ex, and to top it all off, my wife, Cheryl, who was my ex's best friend, sang at their wedding! Like I said, we may be in South Dakota, but life here is a lot like it is everywhere else...Lol...A little aside meant only with the greatest of irony based humor. My ex never really cared for motorcycles, or people who rode them. Something about the "lifestyle" that she thought unsavory precluded her ever enjoying the riding and the camping under the stars in a tent. Ken and I both ride ultra classic Harleys, and when we see one another on the road we wave. Tonight I pray I will be seeing him on the road again one day, if not, then at least in heaven where we will understand a whole lot better all things of this life. Like I said, he's a good man, and God only knows what can be accomplished through faith. In Christ's Love, Preacher.