She Put Them Under Her Pillow

I struck up a conversation with one of the custodians at my school a few months back. She was anxious because her daughter, expecting her second baby, was over due. When she was out of work a few days, I surmised that the little one had finally arrived. And when I found out it was a little girl, I put together a gift bag of hand knit booties, a blanket and sweater and brought it to school. I hadn‘t done the knitting. Some blessed women, from another state sent a bunch of such cozy items to the mission. We still haven’t built up a very large congregation. Some people still believe the place to be abandoned. But I’m not going to just let those donations sit and collect dust. I told the grandma the gift was from our church. A few weeks later I was given a thank you card and small gift bag from the baby’s shower. Then she brought the little family in to meet me. Three generations. Proud Grandma, Stoic Mother, beautiful baby girl with thick black hair and bright eyes. And, hiding behind grandma was a cute little, barely three year old sister. So another gift box came. More donations to the Indian Mission. This time there were several pairs of children’s shoes, and some brand new socks. Sometimes new babies get all the attention, so I decided that a nice new pair of shoes and socks might be a nice gift for big sister.
I checked with grandma first. I didn’t want to offend them. Then I put together another gift bag, with the shoes, socks, and a little story book. Yesterday Grandma told me that the shoes were a little big, growing room, and that the little girl was so excited about them that she insisted upon sleeping with them under her pillow.
The 7th grade English teacher had the students write a journal entry about a gift they received that they didn’t like. Most of the class was pretty confused. A gift they didn’t like? How could there be such a thing? Give thanks with a grateful heart! Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving!

First Sunday of November

Hard to believe we are starting our fifth month at 1275 Bisti Highway. It is slow going. We are dealing with years of poor stewardship and Ezekiel 34 shepherding. Our average attendance is 14. We have had our first Baptism. We are praying and singing and trusting.
Getting reading to send out a newsletter. Putting signs up in the Laundry Matts. Lighting the lights and opening the doors and trying to be faithful with the little so that God will give us the more. More sheep and more shepherds.
Yesterday was a wonderful day. It was clear and crisp, blue and gold. We haven’t had very many people coming to our Tuesday food distributions. So I asked a sweet Christian gentleman, who is a substitute teacher at my school, if he knew any families that needed some groceries. He gave us three names and we delivered food boxes Saturday morning.
The families lived on the reservation. It was a blessing to give.
One of the young ladies in one of the homes, where three generations lived, was wearing a tee shirt from my home town - Rochester, NY. She let me take her picture and I’ll post it when I get the film developed. One of the churches in Farmington, that we fellowship with, and worship with at their Saturday evening services, donated $300 to our Church. They also collected food for our food pantry. My granddaughter helped me put out hats and mittens for our distribution after church today.
I’ve recently realized something. We were at an event sponsored by Passion Play Ministries International (PPMI) which has its headquarters in Farmington. We’ve been part of the ministry for the 9 years that we have been in the area, and we were discussing its value and uniqueness. Passion Play gives a lot of people a chance to minister through drama. People who might not otherwise be offered the chance to minister. I think our little church will be like that. It already is. The people who stuffed our treat bags for the parade, and rode on the float, or walked beside it handing out candy and singing praises to the LORD aren’t the type of people found ministering in most churches. The family of women, deep in poverty, to whom we delivered a food basket, have volunteered to make fry bread for a fund raiser, Navajo Tacos (yum) probably will be part of our Christmas outreach. Our “poor” people bring food for the food pantry, and show up to serve when called upon. We have a small core group who want a chance to do something for the LORD. Widows, orphans, captives, prisoners, who will be called oaks of righteousness, who will help rebuild the ruins…Isaiah 61.
It is slow going, but we are not discouraged. We need prayer - we continue to pray for wisdom, provision, shalom, and people. God knows full well what people we need and where they are. We will pray that they will find their way to us, and trust enough to commit. God’s will be done. And so, tis almost time for our evening service. It is usually just Pastor Art and I praying. And that is ok. The lights are on and the doors are open. To God be the Glory!

Shiprock, October 6, 2007

Many little hands working together to prepare treat bags and flowers for our float.

And they didin't even "sneak" any of the candy for themselves. Each treat bag had a drawing and the name of a familiar hymn in Navajo on the outside, and some candy and an invitation to church on the inside. Our goal was 1500, but we only finished 900. Next year we will start sooner.

This is the Tse Bit Ai Middle School band (where I teach) practicing for the parade.

by 6:00 am it was bumper to bumper traffic into Shiprock. Cars and trucks and half finished floats, moving at a snail's pace. Many families had staked their claims along the parade route, some acutally camping out on the side of the road.

Waiting, watching, floats and bands, 200 entries.

putting the finishing touches on our float.

There were 19 of us working on the float, setting up the sound system. We had hot chocolate, cookies, and a lot of fun.

This is it. One of many musical floats. Ready to go.

Three of our little ladies getting ready to hand out treat bags.

Some of us walked, handing out candy and singing along with the group. "Something about the Name of Jesus, Something 'bout His holy name"

Just a view of the crowd. Over 100,000 people. We ran out of treat bags real quick, but the music kept on for the full three miles.

Was it worth it? By the end of the parade we were cold and tired. But the name of the LORD was proclaimed and we had a lot of fun.

September 2007

As we begin our third month of ministry at the little church on the Bisti, we are blessed and encouraged. We are comfortably settled into our apartment and trusting that we will be able to get a heating system installed before the cold weather sets in. At least the heater and cooler work in the sanctuary.We are looking forward to the first weekend in October and the Shiprock Fair, the largest fair on the Navajo Nation. We will have a float in the Parade, which is seen by over 100,000 people. That Sunday we will be dedicating our Emergency Food Pantry, and we are planning a "Worship like a Warrior" conference as a follow up to the fair. We are hoping to let the community know there is something fresh and vibrant going on here, at the Eastern Gate of the Navajo Reservation. Right now our greatest need is for equipment to work on the grounds, a perhaps a small tractor. We want the place to look more inviting, and the weeds have been allowed to takeover the grounds. Maryellen, Ardy and Jeremiah have been tackling them with hoes and weed wackers, but the weeds are winning. We are also looking at some nice little cabin type trailers to replace the broken down buildings, in which to housemission teams and/or to use for emergency housing. It will probably be some time before we see that happen. But we continue to claim Isaiah 61 as our mission statement and to trust in the LORD! Please do continue to keep us in prayer.Sincerely, in His Service to His People Pastor Art and Maryellen

lunar eclipse

this is the second night in a row that the LORD has woken me up around 2:00am to take the short walk across the courtyard into the Sanctuary to pray. I've awoken with a song in my heart. Last night it was "come, now is the time to worship", tonight it was "Jesus, all for Jesus". There is a clear sky over the Four Corners, after a day of unusually heavy rain. And the full moon is being eclipsed. I would have missed it if He hadn't woken me up. The heavens declare His glory. just thought I'd mention it. I'm going outside again to watch.

Prayer at Dawn

Native Flute and Buffalo Drum

Ezekiel 36, prayed in the Sanctuary from the English and Navajo Bible.

Mountains of Israel, hear the Word of the LORD…
Sacred Mountains of Dine’Tah, hear the Word of the LORD...

Then we walked to a place from where we could see the ministry buildings, the mesas to our south, the Bisti highway, and the trees that grow along the SanJuan River - our eastern border. It was Julia Redhouse, our Navajo worship leader, and myself at first because Pastor Art had to change his shoes. You do NOT walk our land in Sandals. God hasn’t replaced the brier and thorns with fir-trees and myrtle yet (Isa 55:13)
Julia spoke out what I was thinking, this particular spot would be perfect for a Hogan shaped church. When Pastor Art joined us, he looked around for a moment and said, “wouldn’t this be a perfect place for a Hogan Church?”.
As Julia prayed, both in Navajo and English, she asked that the LORD would make the vision for our ministry to come into being, or that if were not from Him, that He would take it from her. Over the past nine years I have often prayed the same prayer. Crying out to the LORD, when He again and again brought this complex to my mind, showed me what could and should be accomplished here. “Why are you showing me this, if it is an impossibility?”
“Lord, if this vision is not from you, than take it away.” He never did.
Now, as we pray for wisdom, provision, people (both to serve and be served) and Shalom, I am awed and humbled that He has put us here, to restore what the enemy has stolen. Let His will, and only His will be done here.
One more thing about this mornings early morning prayer. Julia said this place was a graveyard of gossip. And we prayed that that curse would be removed.
And then Pastor Art prayed his morning song on the native flute while Julia beat on the buffalo drum. Yes LORD and Amen.

Sunday Morning

I am so happy to be living this life again. Getting ready for Church on Sundays is such a pleasure. Preparing the Sanctuary and Fellowship Hall, and even the restroom. Singing and praying as I go about the business. Kingdom business. I’ve been working on the court yard. It still needs a lot of work. I was thinking that if I had a few extra thousand dollars, I’d pay the local Mennonites to do the landscaping, but then there are more pressing needs. I can do the yard work, with the help of my sons, for now at least. This morning as I was unlocking the doors and opening the gates, an Indian rode by on a horse. For my northeastern friends I should add that he was not wearing feathers or carrying a bow and arrow. Actually he was dressed like a cowboy. We greeted each other and I smiled. Dear God in heaven, bless him. Bless all the people, from all the tribes tongues and nations that ride by this ministry complex day after day (most of them are in cars and pickups). Bring us the lost sheep, and the shepherds who will help us care for them. And a thousand thanks Abba Father, for entrusting us with this ministry. May your will be done!

Rocks, Trees, and Little Birds

Tse Bit’Ai is the Dine’ word for Shiprock, which loosely translated means “Rock with Wings.” I teach at Tse Bit’Ai Middle School.
This morning, I spent 2 sweaty hours pulling weeds in a small, triangular area of the courtyard between the Church building and the Fellowship Hall.
Yesterday, some friends of ours visited our little church. I’d love them to come on a regular basis, but they are well rooted in a church on the Rez and I don’t want to be about stealing sheep from other folds. I work with Mary, and used to dance with her on a dance team at her home church. The family has eaten several holiday dinners with us. I often wondered how many of my northeastern friends could claim that they had “real Indians” at their Thanksgiving dinners? Anyway, I mention Mary and her family, because of an observation they made about the courtyard. When we were here nine years ago, this area was very lovely. Several trees and large bushes. When we moved back, it was overgrown with weeds and thistles, there were only 2 trees, one nearly dead, and it looked pretty sad.
One of the first things I did, when I realized that the LORD was going to allow us to minister here again, was to pull the large weeds that grew along side the church and put bird feeders and wind chimes in the trees. But every time I walked between the Church and home (we live in an apartment behind the fellowship hall) I felt overwhelmed at the extent of work that needed to be done. Yesterday, Al - Mary’s husband - commented on how much he liked at least part of the court yard. It is a sort of “rock garden”. There are large hunks of rock, petrified tree trunks, two Yucca plants (New Mexico’s state flower) and some cacti. Mary liked the wild flowers. I found out that some of the weeds were actually Navajo Tea, that grows wild in this area. I still want to upgrade the area. There are thistles and the kind of weed that “evolves” into tumble weeds. They have to go. (Isaiah 55:13 - Instead of the thorn bush, the cypress will come up, and instead of the nettle, the myrtle will come up.) I prayed that, as I was pulling weeds this morning. And as I pulled dead grasses and choking weeds away from the tree, I thought of how “all the trees of the field will clap their hands” Isaiah 55:12. I thought about just why I wanted the courtyard to look good. About how YHWH took Adam into the Garden of Eden, to cultivate it and keep it (Genesis 2:15) and how I want the people who come to this place to be blessed by it’s beauty and peace. But this morning I was noticing the beauty of each rock and wild flower. I hummed the hymn “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand”, and thought of how the LORD said that if people didn’t praise Him, the rocks and stones themselves would shout with praise. Yeah, that is a little out of context, but as I weeded around the rocks, and dug out some buried rocks so that their beauty was more visible, I prayed that our little Church would be filled with song again, from people - not rocks. And I was blessed to see the sparrows and humming birds making use of the feeders I put in the tree. God knows each one of them, He knows each one of you, and He knows each one that is being called to come find Him at our little Church. Each widow and orphan. Each prisoner and lost sheep. Each laborer and prayer partner and scared warrior. As I was coming in to take a break and write this, I heard a sparrow chirping at the feeder. As he flew off, he lost one of his feathers which I picked up and put in our vehicle. It is hanging from our mirror along with our symbolic reminders that God loves the Dine’ and is able to “feed” the multitudes. It’s not an eagle feather, like the ones that hang from many Navajo mirrors. But it is a powerful reminder that God knows and God cares.

Rainbows, Thunder, and Sparrows

Last night we were blessed with an awesome, golden sunset that produced a glorious rainbow over the mesas. I always consider a rainbow a blessing, and this was the first one I’ve seen in a long time. A few nights ago there was a tiny, young sparrow on our window sill, sheltering himself from the wind I suppose. I know how he felt. There are several references to sparrows in the Bible. God knows. God knows and God cares…
And the God of glory thunders. It seems that the summer monsoons have arrived early this year. Blessings come, falling on thirsty desert ground. There is hope in the gathering clouds. But there are storms too. We dare not let up on the prayers. Recently a Bishop of the Free Methodist gave a speech which in part answers my friend Bridgett’s question about just what are Free Methodists? You can read the whole speech here http://test.freemethodistchurch.org/pdfs/GCDaily07/GC07_Kendall_PastoralAddress.pdf
“In the 18th century, the Wesley brothers sought simply to return to the doctrines, practices and ministries of the early church, the church of the apostolic era.
They did not innovate as much as recapture the Spirit of the first to be church. Under their anointed leadership the common people — the lost - were transformed by the grace of God. They were empowered to become change agents in their world. Such change provided the content of their mission to preach the gospel to the poor and reform the nation. Likewise, at its inception the Free Methodist Church sought only to recapture the spirit of
“primitive Methodism” and thus “save the church” from decline and death. As the early Free Methodists conformed to the Biblical standard of Christianity and preached the gospel to the poor, they also changed their world.”
A call to minister to the poor. A call to Holiness. An Isaiah 61 call to bind up the broken hearted and preach the good news to the poor. Yes LORD Yes!

Monday Morning

This morning I got up early and walked the land. It was still dark and pretty quiet. I turned on the lights in the Church so perhaps the commuters would take note. After the walk, I sat in front of the ministry complex and waited for the sun to rise. I can see the hospital to the east and the airport to the north. People coming and going. And I pray. My prayer for the ministry, for The Free Methodist Church at Farmington and for the Brokop family is wisdom, provision, and shalom. But this morning I pray for mercy. And I sing “Refiner’s Fire”. I pray for angels to watch over this place, to encamp around it. I open the Bible, the Contemporary English Version today, to Psalm 142 and read “I pray to you, LORD. I beg for mercy. I tell you all of my worries and my troubles and whenever I feel low, you are there to guide me.” One time, about 9 years ago, when we were living in the little building in the back, the building called the dorm, where our son is staying until he can get a place of his own, a stranger came knocking on our door. We could tell he wasn’t trouble, because old Bear, the mission dog (may he rest in peace) wasn’t barking at him. He came in, for a cup of coffee and in our conversation he said something I have never forgotten. He said pastors shouldn’t be so occupied with counting the sheep. Pastors who count the sheep end up falling asleep. Instead, pastors should be about feeding the sheep. That makes sense. Only I wonder about the lost sheep. Those wandering in the dark. If we don’t count the sheep, how do we know whose missing? There were only 8 of us in church this week. The enemy is whispering in my ears the words of David in psalm 142:4
“see, look, you won’t find anyone who cares enough to walk beside you…no one who really cares.” But I will sing out the hymns that come to my heart as I walk the land - Trust and Obey, Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus, and On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand. And I go back to verse three of Psalm 142 - whenever I feel low, you are there to guide me. Yes and Amen. It’s just 6:30 now. I’m gonna have a cup of coffee and go pull weeds. This place needs a lot of work.

Friday the Thirteenth

Not an "unlucky day", but a day full of mercy and grace!

FYI - contact information - The Free Methodist Church at Farmington
PO. Box 6132
Farmington, NM 87499
(505)325-4496

Things are looking up, as long as we keep looking up - forward and upward!

1 Corinthians 16:9

“For a wide door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many adversaries.”
Thank you brother Paul and St. Paul for these words.
This has been a hard week. Last Sunday was Pastor Art’s first official Sunday at the Free Methodist Church at Farmington. Starting with the reading of Psalm 29 in both English and Navajo, ending with apple pie in the fellowship hall, it went very well. But Monday we had to take Art to the hospital, where he reluctantly spent 4 days fighting an infection in his bladder and an inflamed prostate. And although he had every intention of preaching this Sunday, he ended up in emergency.
But he’s feeling much better as I write this, and more at peace. I guess the drive to Durango and the advice/explanation from a doctor who really seemed to understand what was going on helped him, as well as the 16 people who were in our little church today, lifting him up in prayer.
We know that God has graciously opened a door for effective ministry here. He has called us to this place for this time. And there are spiritual forces that are against us, as Wesley said in one of his commentaries, about this verse, “as there must always be where Satan’s kingdom shakes”. The Barney commentary says this is “proof that the enemies of God are alarmed because the gospel is advancing.” So many thanks to all of you who are keeping us in prayer. And glory to God who is stronger than any and all adversaries and whose loving kindness endures forever! This is just a little bump in the road. There are just a few pesky foxes nipping at our heels. We will trust in the LORD. Yes and Amen!

This is the inside of our little church. ofcourse, now the organ on the right has been replaced with Pastor Art's drums. The door leads to the children's church room. We're going to replace the picture with a cross. Our services begin with a reading from the Psalms. This week it was Psalm 29. We read it both in English and in Navajo. And all God's people say "Glory!"

June 30, 2007

Last night we did our first event under the name of our new ministry - The Free Methodist Church at Farmington. We performed music ministry at a little park in the middle of town. There were some glitches at the beginning with a brand new - still in the boxes - sound system (not ours) and miscommunication with the event coordinators. And part of the group didn’t show up, so it was just Art, me, and Julia (a Navajo sister whose group it was, who has agreed to be part of our worship team at church PTL) and two other guys who do country and western hymns. The audience more or less came and went, passing through to other places and stopping to listen. But a handful stayed for the whole thing. There were some street people, one in particular who spent a long time talking to Art as he was setting up, and then to me as they were tearing down the equipment. He was pretty drunk when the music started, but hung out for the whole 2 hours and asked for prayer. I was thinking of the poem I wrote over a year ago, which I am posting again. He said he’d come to church Sunday. We’ll see. At least the seed was planted.
Most of the songs we did were original and several were in Navajo. A challenge for me, but Julie says I’m doing pretty good. We’ll be doing a couple of them tomorrow in Church. Psalm 150 - Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!

Written January 2006

I see you
You are not invisible to me.
I see you all
Walking with your head down,
Dragging you feet, wearing out your souls.
I see you
Vacant men walking past Vacant houses
Men of the Land, who don’t seem to care anymore
about the Land around them
Dry, like the Land you are born to
I see you
Making your way into town
For a drink, for a job, for a change
And making your way home again
To the old mother who still cares
To the old grandmother who still prays for you
To be greeted by a long sad sigh and an open door
I want to say, “hold your head up high”
I want to say, “be the brave you were born to be”
I want to say, “I am sorry.”
I want to cook for you, and sing you songs, and tell you stories
Great Stories, Living Stories
I want to give you a hot cup of coffee on a cold night,
With lots of sugar and a dash of hope.
I want to drive you home
To the son that needs you
To the woman that loves you
And I want to say…
Look past the moon, Look past the stars.
Look past the tent meetings and revivals
Seek God!
He is there waiting
He sees you.
Learn to sing His songs
He is calling you.
Believe His stories
He has a plan for you!
All of you. Each of You.
Walking this Land for a Divine purpose.
He is not the White Man’s God
He is every man’s God
He is not the missionary’s God
He is the People’s God
He formed you, He knows you, He sees you.
You are not invisible to Him.

Morning Has Broken

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit…
As I woke up to greet the dawn today, to listen to the chorus of birds singing their early morning praises, drinking my coffee and doing my devotions…I realized that it has been just one month since we got the phone call about the “mission”. Were we still interested? Did we think maybe we could? Perhaps this…could be…might happen…we’ll see…
Since then we’ve run into several people from “back then”, had several encounters with people that God obviously sent our way, took a nice trip to Phoenix to meet with the powers that be and it looks like a sure thing. We are humbled, encouraged, and just a wee bit scared. It looks like we have two other couples that might walk this path with us. One of the husbands is capable of handling the money, thank God. The other is very knowledgeable about things like plumbing and heating and septic tanks, thank God. On Wednesday night, since there has always been a Wednesday night service of sorts scheduled, we were at the site. I was puttering around with banners and plants. The one couple stopped by to introduce themselves and see what we were all about. They had helped/served there in the past, but certain events led to their leaving a while back. As we were sharing our vision a gentleman drove up. He was just going to park in our lot to wait for his son to get out of work, but ended up having a nice long chat with Pastor Art and asking for prayer. That is one way this ministry is going to happen. One wanderer at a time. A cup of coffee or a glass of ice tea. An open door and a light in the window. Yeah, we are going to “do church”. It will be interesting to see how the services will evolve. Old time Free Methodist, Navajo, Liturgical, Contemporary, Traditional… We’re also planning on having an emergency food pantry, family night outreaches, and workshops for area (reservation) pastors. And even as I write this, I can’t believe it is now more than just a dream or vision. The LORD is constantly reminding me, He is behind these events, and we can not do any of this outside of His will. So I pray for wisdom, provision, and shalom. I pray, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. I say, Glory be to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit…amen

The Church at Farmington

In the foreground is the church building. The building in the back ground houses the fellowship hall, the future food pantry, Pastor Art's office and our apartment. Now that I know how to post pictures, more will follow. To God be the Glory!

Close Encounters

Today we went out to eat at Golden Corel, and our server was an old student of mine. I remember him well. He had a long beautiful braid down his back, and I was glad to see it was still there. His father was an artist, and had some of his pieces displayed in Washington DC. This kiddo used to get all stressed out whenever his father had to travel to show and/or sell his work. I'd have to show him on the map where he was going and the route he was probably taking. That was back when he was a fourth grader. He graduated from high school this year.
One of the things I remember most is that one time he had a real bad ear infection. He was feeling really sick, and I felt so sorry for him. I told him to tell his mom, so she could take him to the doctor. His reply was, "That's ok, Mrs. Brokop, my parents are taking me to a medicine man this week end." Back then, when I shared that story, some of my friends asked didn't they have enough money to take him to a "real" doctor. They didn't understand that medicine men were much more expensive than a regular doctor. These men sing songs and burn grasses, and often "remove" bones, teeth, arrow heads, and rocks from the bodies of their patients. Matt was from a very traditional family. So imagine my thrill when he proudly told me that he was going to Bible College to become a preacher of the Gospel. On Arpil 13, 2005 I posted an article about another of my students from a very traditional family who was leading a Bible Study in his junior high school. Thank you Jesus for rescuing these beautiful young men from the deep darkness...and for divine appointments. For the last couple of weeks we've had several enounters that have encouraged us. We are closer to going back into ministry now than we have been for years. And we've just barely been able to keep the foxes of anxiety and stress at bay.
So first we run into a family that was part of our first ministry here, the one we may be going back to - nice chat. Then we find out our son's roommate works with a girl that was also part of that church and is excited to hear we may be going back. She doesn't go there anymore, but if Pastor Art is there, maybe...Then we run into a whole pack of folk who were part of Gateway of the Rock Church...and Pastor Art is talking about one of the guys he worked with on the propane trucks, wondering if he could find him and invite him to come to the church, since he had expressed some interest back in December...and who do you suppose knocks on our door Thursday morning, out of the blue? And now Matt. Now that I'd expect him to come to our church, He's happy where he is and doing well...it's just encourageing you know, and like God reminding us, He's there, and He's working things out...Yeah God!

update

I cut and pasted the posting below from the Gateway of the Rock site. On Tuesday, June 11 we will be in Phoenix AZ, meeting with the Superintendent of the Arizona Free Methodists to discuss our proposal for ministry on the "mission". I've been "seeing" this and praying this for many years. I know some of you are already joining us in prayer over this...Thank you, and amen.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Isaiah 61
Prayed over Pastor Art and Maryellen as they became leaders of an Open Bible Standard ministry in the Four Corners region of the USA. Revisited so many times that the page from Maryellen's Bible has fallen out. To Bring Good News to the afflicted, to Proclaim Liberty, the radio minitry could do that, but we lost our sponser last year...the ability to do better desk top publishing would help get the teaching out...we're working on that. To proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to the prisoners, to comfort those who mourn.That "mandate" means more to us now because of the situation with our own son. We are more sensitive to the needs of the repentant and redeemed felon who faces a world of rejection, and to the mothers (family) of prisoners who live with shame and frustration. There is freedom in Christ for all, and comfort - 2Corinthians 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. But we aren't sure how that will manifest itself in ministry.Perhaps if we actually had a facility, a place from which to minister. A church were freed prisoners could feel safe and accepted, a church where mothers would get the word, your sons have value. Jesus valued them so much that He died on the cross for them. What greater value is there than that?Then they will rebuild the ancient ruins, They will raise up the former devastations and they will repair the ruined cities. So, Maryellen always sees "the mission" when she reads that verse. A facility established in 1952, where we first ministered when we came to this part of the world. There's a tiny church, a fellowship hall from which we could operate a soup kitchen (mutton stew and fry bread?),offices, a workshop and store house, a few run down housing units, and room to expand.But - it's not for sale, and we have no money...Maryellen has seen the run down mission restored...and the vision returns everytime she hears Isaiah 61, But - it's not for sale, and we have no money. We heard a teaching on Isaiah 61 this weekend at a prophetic event, a camp meeting on the Navajo Reservation. And we are still waiting for direction as to where Gateway of the Rock isheading. So, the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations - for all the nations - well, the Four Corners of the USA is a place of gathering of the Navajo Nation, as well as the Hopi, Ute, Apache, Hispanic and ofcourse those of us of European descent - a place where every knee shall bow and every tongue (many tongues) will confess - That Jesus Christ is LORD. Soon and very soon!

May 28, 2009

Isaiah 55
I have often said, that if I could only have one book of the Bible, I would want the book of Isaiah. It is so full of prophecy, promise, poetry and praise. And by estimation, the LORD gave it to us no less than 3 times, perhaps 4 if you count the reformation. The first time these words were shared was nearly 3000 years ago. When Isaiah first heard and saw that which the LORD would have him write. Then, between the councils of the 4th and 5th century and the translating of the original languages into Latin and German and English etc, the people were once more given these beautiful words, these Living Words. Finally, in the mid 20th century, we received it again via the Dead Sea Scrolls. Carbon dated and proven to be written generations before the birth of Jesus, the messianic prophesies are hard to deny. A virgin will give birth, He will be pierced for our transgressions, and one of my favorite to quote to the most severe skeptic “His grave was assigned with wicked men, yet he was with a rich man in his death” (53:9) (See Matt. 27:57-60).
So now, as my husband and I anticipate the possibility of a new ministry, I am reminded of the first chapter I meditated on when we moved to this area a decade ago. The alter Bible was open to Isaiah 55, in the little church where Art was called to pastor. I remembered how it started…”Ho! Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters, And you who have no money, come buy and eat..” I thought it might be a good place to go this week. All things considered.
Every one who thirsts, come to the water…the living water. I never thought that much about water until I moved to a desert. And you who have no money…wine and milk without money and without cost.
That’s one of the visions I have for ministry. A place where the thirsty and weary can stop for a cold drink and find refreshment for their souls as well. “Coffee and Tea Always Free - Now Open - Everyone Welcome!
And a call to the nations. Seek the LORD while He may be found. So I think of how the nations gather here in the Four Corners. Navajo and Apache, Mexican and Anglo, many tribes, tongues, and nations. Reminds me of Acts 17:26 - 27 “and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for him and find him.”
There is, in that chapter, a well known and often quoted verse. One used especially when something tragic happens - “For my thoughts are not your thoughts nor are your ways my ways declares the LORD, for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” I take these words, not as an explanation or source of comfort, but rather as a warning to those who think they understand it all better than anyone else. God has given us his living word. He has revealed his will and nature through that word. But there are still mysteries which we will never understand, debates that will never be settled. Who and Why and How does God forgive? Can the predestined wicked actually forsake their ways and return to the LORD?
And then the WORD, the Living Word, Jesus, that goes forth from his mouth and accomplishes what God decided would be accomplished.
Hear the music? You will go out with joy and be led forth with peace,
The mountains and hills will break forth before
And the trees of the fields will clap their hands…
And finally, another desert promise: instead of the thorn bush, the cypress will come up, instead of the nettle, the myrtle will come up, Yes and