Stalling

I have things to do, but I am stalling. Sigh...Quiet sigh...
God, please give me strength and wisdom...Lord Have Mercy!
See my family? The "Navajo Side"

alphabetic acrostic poem

Sometimes, when I am having trouble falling asleep, I pray God's Blessing alphabetically
     God Bless Amadaya, Art, Ardy, The Antes, The Alcheffs, The Admires, God Bless Bobbie and the Balbies, and Barbie and Carl etc.etc.

Sometimes, when I know I need to get into the WORD but don't know where in the WORD to read, I say a little prayer and a number comes into my mind "34" or 12 or 7 or 145...and I turn to that psalm. Not the best system I know, but it works for me.

Today it was Psalm 34 and my Bible tells me it was/an alphabetic acrostic poem - written in Hebrew of course, by King David.

So I decided that I should write my own - here
Not too many people read these ramblings. That's ok, they are basically just old lady passing thoughts. I thought I'd blog a daily prayer this summer, but didn't stick to the plan. That's ok too I think. I am writing in my journal every day, and Art and I have been "devoting" together and making some headway too. But anyway...Here is my "on the fly" alphabetic acrostic poem/prayer/psalm

Anxiety LORD, though You say not to be Anxious, truly I am trying not to panic.
Beautiful moments in the morning...a friendly butterfly and chirping birds do bring me peace
Casting my cares upon You...yet what appears to be the real world comes crashing down on me and I cry...
Desperately crying out...in near despair crying out to the only true Deliverer
Everlasting - Eternal
Father
Glorious God
Holy, Holy, Holy
Ignore those earthly things? How can I ignore them? Ignoring them does not make them go away.
Jesus, my Rock, my Savior, my Hope
King of Kings
Lord of Lords
Mighty, Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth...hear my cry for Mercy
Nothing is too difficult for Thee - right? No, not by might nor by power but by Thy Spirit will I be saved
Only through the presence of You, oh Yahweh, will I find the peace I need
Peace that passes all understanding.
Quiet my soul, calm my spirit, quench my thirst for you and become my peace
Resist the enemy? Yes! Rest in the presence of my LORD? Yes! Jesus my Rock and my Redeemer
Say but the word and I shall be healed, made whole! See the great things He has done?
Thank you oh LORD, many, many thanks for the many many blessings you have bestowed upon me
Undying, everlasting Love.
Victory over discouragement and fear
Worthy are you of my Worship
eXalted above all things!
Yes, Yes and Amen
Zechariah 10:1

Wednesday

The God of Glory thunders. I love that verse. Last night there were two flashes of lightning, one rumble of thunder, and about 13 drops of rain in Farmington, NM.
Art and I prayed about ministry...about how maybe we might be being led to try again. Baby steps into the unknown. We can not do it on our own. But aren't all truely successful ministries acts of God? Waiting for more rain. Waiting for wisdom and guidence. We won't let go of each other's hands, we won't let go of His.

Good Morning

Summer mornings are so peaceful. I love my front porch. Sparrows eating left over pizza crusts. Doves cooing in the distance. A humming bird flew up close just to say hello and then a lovely yellow butterfly. I borrowed this picture from a friends facebook gallary...the birds and bees. I prayed through Psalm 99 today.  Holy, Holy, Holy Yahweh...Creator and King.

Feeling the Heat

Heat waves and wild fires...Climate Change and Signs in the Heavens. I watched the movie "Hair" yesterday. The astrology in "Age of Aquarius" is all wrong. But it brought back a flood of memories.
There was this big UN summit in Rio this week. The major news networks hardly mentioned it. 130 world leaders gathered together to discuss how miserably they failed at fulfilling the plans made at a similar summit 20 years ago. 130 world leaders...Obama wasn't there. Didn't seem to be any reps from the Kingdom of God either. Humankind has been such poor stewards of the beautiful world the creator made just for us. And those who name the name of Christ seem to doing such a poor job of taking care of each other.  If we just lived by the words of Matthew 25, there would be no children starving to death, no sick person suffering alone in the dark, and just maybe our planet wouldn't be in such bad shape. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done...easy to say, hard to live. 

Glory

When I was a little girl, going to St. Monica's School, I learned the answers to these questions:
Who made you? God made me!
Why did God make you? God made me to know, love and serve Him on earth so that I could spend eternity with Him in Heaven.

Recently I heard tell, that the reason God made us was to glorify Him.
I didn't like that answer. It made Him sound more like a self-centered, egotistical tyrant and less like a Loving Father (Abba Father). Of course, if any being has the right to be self-centered and egotistical its God. But the thought that humankind was created so that for eternity we could sing "Holy, Holy, Holy" seemed somehow out of wack.

But this spring I was working through a Beth Moore Bible Study, Breaking Free, and learned something about what it means, Biblically, to glorify God. It's more than singing worship songs, or even dancing before the throne. It is reflecting back His goodness and love to those who see us. It is doing His will, and letting His Majesty and Truth shine forth from us.
The heavens declare His glory. For ages people who have gazed at the night sky have realized that someONE did that, made that. People need to look at me and know there is a God. My life must declare His glory as clearly as the Heavens and the Earth.

It doesn't always. And lately I haven't even cared. Still...my Abba Father says, trust and obey, and so
to God be the Glory!

Our Father

Sometimes, when I know I should be praying but have a hard time getting focused, I fall back on the ol' time religion, and start saying the Lord's Prayer.
Our Father...
But often, like now, the first two words tend to overwhelm me.
Our - who is "our" ?
Does it encompass all of humankind?
Or is it limited to those who name the name of Christ?
I like to think it includes all the people on my prayer list...even those who are not "saved" yet.
Surely it includes the prodigal sons and the Jews (God's chosen)
Was Judas there when Jesus taught the disciples to pray? Was he part of the "our" ?
Our Father...Abba Father...Daddy
A perfect...THE perfect Father in a world of imperfect fathers.
Provider, Protector, Teacher and Disciplinarian.
Father's Day has just passed. I trust my own, imperfect father is resting in peace.
I am thankful that my husband is a father...because if he weren't, I wouldn't be a mother, and I so love being a mother - and a grandmother. My son is a great father. Not perfect of course...but great.

Thank you Jesus, Yashua Messiah for reminding us that the Almighty and living God, Creator of all that is seen and unseen, is in fact  Our Father.
amen

A Thankful Heart

Abba, Father
Creator
Father, Son, Holy Spirit
Creator, Creator Who walked among us, and Creator who lives within us
Thankyou for this season of rest...the chorus of birds that sing your praises every morning.
A  job I love and a job that gives me a nice long break to relax and reflect.
"...in returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength" Isaiah 30:15  LORD, YHWH, I will not refuse...I will claim the promise that You shall be gracious to me, that You shall rise up and show Your mercy toward me, and that You will bless me because I wait on You...Isaiah 30:17
Thank You for birdies, humor, and joy in the morning.

Amen

June 17, 1972

Abba, Father,

I must take a moment this morning, while the sparrows peck at their breakfast and Art plays his morning song on his native flute, to say a quick prayer for Frank. 40 years ago I was a silly, starstruck young thing walking down the aisle of St.Monica's Church to the sound of our Folk Group playing "Love is but the song we sing, and fear's the way we die, we can make the mountains ring, or make the angels cry" I wonder if heaven shed a tear that day, knowing what I was getting myself into? Yet, it was a great adventure. From what I've discovered about him, my first husband, he's not exactly walking with you LORD. So dare I say "God bless him?" I have no hard feelings toward him. I do remember the bad, and there was some very bad...but there are many memories about those 4 or 5 years that I...well I can't say I cherish them, but I do enjoy them. So yes...God Bless Frank Puff! We're both 60 now - getting closer and closer to eternity. God, save his soul...he learned the truth as a child - and he is a republican (LOL) so open the eyes of his heart, open his ears, so he can hear you calling his name, before the final hour. Time for me to get ready for church. I love you LORD.

It Was A Nice Vacation

Good Friday - as a child I always wondered why it was called "Good"
I am wearing a Passion Play tee shirt. No passion play for the Brokops this year.
This will be a rather uneventful, calm and peaceful Easter for Art and me. Quite a change from days gone by. I remember several years when we did Passion Play on Saturday night. Helped tear down the set and then went home to prepare for Sunday. There were the eggs to hide for Children's Church, and the sunrise service to prepare for, and Easter Breakfast to get ready. It's not like I waited 'til the last minute. Its just with doing Passion Play 7 nights in a row, and working...but I didn't mind. For years (at least 7) I would pull an all nighter, preparing and praying. It makes me feel kind of sad and empty, not having a ministry.
This week, in my prayer time, I've been thinking of writing this "It Was A Nice Vacation" essay. I avoid driving the road that takes us past our last ministry site, and driving past the plowed down and vacant Mission site which is still for sale is even worse. I honestly doubt that we will ever be involved in full time ministry again. We're really just no good at it. But still, I've been remembering a couple of years back...three now I think. The last summer we had the honor of pastoring a flock. It started out with a road trip. Art and I and a Navajo sister, the lay representative of the church/mission we were working with went to a mission conference and the general conference of the denomination. We were new to the denomination and actually very impressed. After worship, meetings and workshops, we were sure this was a good fit for us. Theologically sound and mission minded. It was a blessed trip. Good conversation on the road. Comfortable rooms and yummy food. We went home with an assurance in our spirits that this was where the LORD wanted us. We did a lot of "things" that summer. A lot of outreach to the community. We sensed some problems, but the enemy always tries to undermine Kingdom Business. We were sure we were on the right track and with prayer and grace we would see the ministry bloom. I don't know. Was it jealousy? Was it conviction? Was it just a matter of personality conflicts? Were there too many alpha males? Did I come on too strong? Sometimes my Pollyanna "aren't you glad it's all good?" personality rubs the "Eyore" types the wrong way. What ever it was, and I can't lay blame, the people who were there first, and the powers that were, decided we weren't right for the job, and thank you very much for volunteering your time, but good luck and good bye. And I think back, now, 3 years later, and I wonder...what was the point anyway? That trip cost the denomination a bundle. And we really thought that was the start of a new chapter that the LORD himself was writing. Oh well...at least it was a Nice Vacation.

God is Pro-choice

What a commotion this motto would cause posted on a church, or carried on a sign.
God is Pro-Choice.
Have you ever wondered how a loving God could allow ______________. You fill in the blank. The reason is simple. God is pro-choice. In His wisdom, and sovereinty, He choose to create His children with the power, right, and responsibility to choose. Ok, you Bible trivia experts, how many times does He say "if". Blessings, if....Curses if....
We are free to choose...but He is very clear in pointing out that our choices carry with them consequences. If our choices go against the natural law, the civil law, or His Divine Law...there are consequences.  Illness, Fines and Imprisonment, Eternal Damnation.
And aren't we at the mercy of those around us who make poor choices? But isn't He able to influence the choices we make? Of course. And I think that is where the Romans 8:28 promise comes in. He is faithful to make things work out for our good and His glory if we trust Him.
He taught us to pray "Thy will be done"
Right before His death on the cross He, Himself prayed that prayer..."Thy Will Be Done"
And he took upon himself the consequenses of all our wrong choices. I have things to do today. It will be a good day. A prayerful day. I'm breathing more deeply now.

Tuesday afternoon and Art is on his way to Albuquerque. We are praying for wisdom. How far should he take this new job?  What if it interferes with his teaching? Are these paths that converge or diverge?
Which way is more profitable, both financially and spiritually? Especially spiritually.

This day, out of obedience in what I felt the LORD was impressing on my heart...I am blogging my ACTS - a prayer method of which I was reminded at last Saturday's Bible Study.

I used 3 psalms (150, 32, 136) and Matthew 6:7-14, 7:7-11 as my guide-lines.

A - Adore...and I begin to ask myself what is the difference between praise "Let everything that breathes praise the LORD", and Adoration. I got hung up right from the start. How to adore God? I started to sing an oldie but holy chorus "Father I adore You, lay my life before you, how I love you!"
And then a song from last Sunday's service at the UM church..."Beautiful One" by Tim Hughes
"Beautiful One I love, Beautiful One I adore, Beautiful One my soul must sing" I think I sang them more out of obedience than pure love. I think...I rather be adoring Him as Art and I drive through the hills on the way to Albuquerque.  I wanted to go with. We didn't have enough money for both of us to go...but still I sing...hoping for now that its good enough.

C - Confess...did I tell you that I tried to go to confession a few weeks back. The priest won't hear my confession until my marriage to Frank is annulled. Not an impossibility, but a complication. Then Art is supposed to get his first marriage annulled as well. He has no idea who married them or how to get a hold of Paula. If I pushed him, he'd be willing to try. "Bless me Father for I have sinned"  And what are my most recent sins, those which I am harboring. Bitterness. It is a spirit of bitterness that is mostly keeping me from going to the community Passover Service (that and the fact that it cost $25 a plate) I am holding a grudge against  CP, MH, PP, and even AB. I know these grudges are helping to keep me in a state of spiritual destitution. I also confess that there is that one thing which He wants me to give up all together, and I don't want to. And I feed my "doubts" with the thoughts of "What difference will it make?"  And  "I know He can but I don't believe He will."

T- Give thanks.  Last night I went to sleep counting my blessings. I used the ABC's: Thank you God for Art and Ardy and the Alcheffs and apricots.  Thank you God for Bobbie, Babies, the Bochno's, and hot baths...and reading Psalm 136, a real reason to give thanks...His steadfast Love endures forever, even when my faith faulters. Thank God for our daily bread. Thank God for my job, for this day in my comfy home with no pressing dead lines. Thank you for Father Tim's gentle voice in the back ground as I type this. Thank you for this lap top, this technology, this outlet.

S-supplication - a chance to ask - "ask and you shall receive"
I will go to the email, and pray for the prayer requests listed for the Saturday Bible Study also will pray for my mother, sister, and brother involved in a crisis. I pray for Art's safe travel. I will hold my personal supplications for later. He knows what I need and want anyway. I am thinking ... I always used to ask my prayer partners to pray that the LORD would bless us and our ministry with Peace, Provision, and Wisdom. We don't have a ministry. At the Bible study last Saturday a situation was mentioned where a mother was asked by her back-sliding son for prayer. It had become a common request, when this young man - whose personal faith was failing and who wasn't walking with the LORD - sensed a spiritual need he would ask his mother for prayer. It finally got to the point, where in the spirit of tough love and wisdom, the mother said "If you need prayer, pray yourself."
Yes and Amen.

Sunday

We went to the neighborhood United Methodist church today. It was a good service. Colossians 3:1-17 and the song "Beautiful One"
I have something that the LORD is working on, something I am supposed to give up, and I actually keep telling Him...yeah I know, but not yet...not yet.
The sermon was very pertinent to where I am right now.
We are supposed to go to Albuquerque Wednesday thru Saturday. The room is only $25.00 a night, but...I don't know, Maybe I'll send Art and I'll just stay home.
We took Tziporah and Ethan to a birthday party this afternoon. Oh how I love those little angels.
Art and I are having breakfast for dinner...he's grating potatoes as I type. I'm doing the eggs and turkey sausages (we're trying to be Kosher this year)

Spring

I find my self in a state of spiritual destitution.
It's lent...I've given up some of my favorite, but ungodly TV shows...and I'm involved with a BethMoore Bible study...but there are aspects of my life that weighing me down...a heaviness in my heart, spiritually, emotionally, and physically.  There are moments of joy...bright spots...my grandkids, my job, my comfy couch, holding my hubby's hand. I went to a News Boy's concert a few weeks ago, my friend Pat had an extra ticket. It was loud, and the crowd was focused on the lights and music and in the darkness around me, I was in a bubble - anonymous - and i took advantage of the moment to shout at the LORD...the question He never answers...I know, He certainly doesn't owe me an answer. But I remembered my boys, years and years ago, at the first NewsBoys concert at Darian Lake at Kingdom Bound. My sweet little godly boys...and how I cried for them. Our Father, in heaven...how could You? How could this be Your will. Didn't we try? Why?
God has let me down...my faith is faltering...I am 60 years old...my pay has been garnished, we live check to check, we don't go to church regularly, every ministry attempt has been uprooted before it has had a chance to bloom...my adult sons are struggling...i fear for the spiritual well being of my two oldest grand children.
Spring Break - and i feel the need to write. Blogging, Face booking, I'm writing a play for the school's drama club. We were supposed to be going to Albuquerque. Art was going to be working on the movie set (if you don't know, don't ask) and I was going to stay in a comfy hotel room and write, write, write...but the shoot dates have been pushed back and we don't have enough money to travel anyway. 9:13pm Saturday Night...and I've said enough already...at least for tonight.
See my Tziporah? See her and her big brother? See my little Ethan.. Hear me Sigh!

She Wore a Christmas Princess Dancing Dress

I played hooky today.
It's my day - for relaxing, house cleaning, and praying.  But I'm feeling rather blue.
I've been meaning to write this since Christmas Eve. And here it is, January 23.
The picture I just posted is Tziporah. Age - 3 years. My little princess of a grand-daughter.
We took her and her little brother Ethan to church on Christmas Eve. When we picked her up she was wearing this red dress, lacy socks and black maryjanes.  She was very excited about her dress. We called it her Christmas Princess Dancing Dress and I told her that we were going to Church to celebrate the birthday of King Jesus and maybe she could dance for him.
It was a nice service, at Christ Church, and the little ones, Ethan in his vest and tie, "Pora" in her princess dress, behaved pretty well, for two little kids at 5:30pm who knew there were cookies and other treats to have after the service was over. At the close of the service, as the congregation was processing out, the pianist played "Joy to the World" and Tziporah got to dance. She ran up to the front of the church, which was empty except for the pianist, and she danced and danced and danced. A few people stopped to watch her. Pure joy! Spinning and skipping and dancing. It was Christmas Eve, but she wasn't thinking of Santa, or presents, or even the goodies that were waiting in the fellowship area. She was dancing. A princess dancing for the King.

All my grandchildren - Christmas Day - 2011 - Praise the LORD!

She Wore A Christmas Princess Dancing Dress

The Yellow Crayon

If you are new to this thread, you should read the next one first - "I Am Not White"
Also...the blog is automatically linking to sights (the word pink) that I do not support or suggest. please do not click on any links in the text of my posts. 
And so...
The first time I was in the position to "teach" Navajo children was Children's Church at the Mission. Word got out that the Mission Church had a new pastor, and since his wife was experienced in children's ministry, the bus started rolling again, picking up kids from the "REZ". This made me nervous, because the bus driver just stopped and opened his doors and kids piled in. I don't think the parents had any idea where their kids were for the 2 hours we had them.
The kids sat quietly during worship time, not disrupting, not participating, and before the sermon they were dismissed to the fellowship hall for snacks and a Bible lesson. My initial impression of theses beautiful little people, ranging in age from 4 to 14, was that they were  fine examples of the "Stoic Indian." Names and gender posed a problem. I knew better than to judge their gender by the length of their hair. That cute little 4 year old with the long braids and turquoise earrings could easily be a boy or girl. And when asked their names they answered so quietly, I could never make it out. They weren't the names I expected...you know...things like "Sitting Bear" or "Laughing Fawn".  There was a Percyanna, Jolisa, Floyd and Floydina.
My first lesson was on prayer...talking to God. Probably not the best place to start. I had a few coloring pages to illustrate the main points of the story, and gave the kids a choice of which one to color after the story. I had a picture of  Jesus praying in the garden, a family praying around a table, people praying in church and a little girl kneeling beside her bed with her hands folded and head bowed. What surprised me about this activity is that every little girl, about 7 of them, choose the little girl kneeling at her bed, and every little girl colored the little girl's hair with a yellow crayon. I was coloring too, the same picture. I used the black crayon for the hair and colored the skin a light shade of brown. But as I looked around the table, I noticed, all the skin was pink and all the eyes were blue, except for the four year old - who turned out to be a boy, and who favored the green and purple crayons. I later mentioned my observation to the missionary, who had warned me that they would never really like me, because I was white...and he said they did it to please me. But I had brown hair (it's grey now).  I had a challenge in front of  me. Not only to get them to see me as person and not a color, but to help them see themselves as beautiful children of God, made in His image and Likeness.
Hey you guys, don't you realize that Jesus looked more like the Native Americans than the Europeans? Jesus had black hair and dark shin. And Adam was made from the red soil of Edan. I've seen black dirt and brown dirt, and red dirt. I've never seen white dirt, at least not in a healthy abundant garden. In the Song of Solomon, the "princess" says she is black (dark skinned) and lovely.
Epilogue to this essay:  I teach Reading and English in a public school on the Rez now. My students usually know I'm a Christian, though of course I don't share me faith at school. A few years back one of my mid-school boys was rapping as he walked into my room, and the lyrics he was singing included the phrase "black Jesus". He stopped short when he saw me, and said "Sorry, Mrs. Brokop...I mean "white Jesus."
"Jesus wasn't white" I answered...and the shocked  look on his face spoke volumes.

I Am Not White

Being a child of the 60's (who is rapidly approaching the age 60), I've always considered myself sensitive to racial issues and civil rights. I grew up in a lower middle class neighborhood, was educated in parochial schools, and  never thought about the fact that I was white. The first time I realized that someone was thinking of me as white was on an Indian Reservation somewhere in Montana. A friend and I were sitting at a snack-bar in a chapter house and the other people at the counter were staring at us. I saw the question, "what are you doing here" in their dark eyes and I had this strong urge to say..."But I'm 1/16th Indian." (Isn't everybody?) That was in the 70's. Twenty odd years later I found myself in Farmington, New Mexico - getting ready to "work with the Indians." I was very excited and extremely curious. I knew a lot about the northeastern tribes, but very little about the Navajo. Driving through the reservation, the largest in the USA, fascinated me. My husband and I were called to work on an Indian Mission. A relic of a place, with a tiny church and long history. This was an nonsalaried position, so I would have to find a job teaching. That was 14 years ago. I am about to start another school year, teaching reading on the "REZ". I don't claim to be an expert on "Educating the Indian," but I've learned a lot.
I hate the fact that my students see me as white. I am not white. I am not a color.
They may say I'm a "biligana (sp). That's what Navajo call us non-natives. The word is understood as meaning "white" but in fact, it is the Navajo word for "enemy". I don't much care for that, I am not their enemy. But to be fair, most my students don't know the origin of that word.
Another common term in Anglo. But that insinuates English, and I am Dutch, Italian, Jew, and 1/16th Creek - no English there. Can't I just be, Mrs. Brokop - teacher?
When Art and I first moved here, a well meaning missionary who had been here for over 25 years, told us that we would always been seen as white, and not to trust "them." I am not white. That is all I'm going to say right now. It's just that Art and I have been doing a lot of reading this summer. And not being involved in ministry this summer, we've had a lot of time to talk and think. And I think we have something to say...something important. Art is focusing on Ministry, I am focusing on Education. And this afternoon, I felt that I needed to say this.  I am not white.

Goodbye Spring, Welcome Summer

Actually, summer vacation began for me nearly a month ago. I'm been fluctuating between relaxed and bored, sleeping in 'til 9:00 or so and spending a lot of time just sitting on the front porch.
Today I decided to greet the dawn. According to the movement of the sun and the moon, summer officially begins this afternoon, so this was the last sunrise of spring. I was still in bed when the first bird chirped, but I was on my porch with my first cup of coffee before 5:00am. Here are the notes I scribbled down...

Tuesday...as spring gives way to summer...I wasn't outside for the first bird's first chirp, but its still dark and the stars are just beginning to fade. I can still see the north star.  Wish I had a clearer view of the horizons. The air is still - very still. I wonder if birds greet the dawn in the winter? Because of clocks, I'm half way to work by now in the winter.
I just heard a dove join the chorus of birds. Doves must sleep in.
Do birds greet the dawn in the desert?
Late night people in cars are replaced by early morning people, but still the air is very still. I can feel cool air on my body, but there is no breeze. The deep blue changes to light blue, but in the east the sky looks more grey than blue. I can still see one star, and the birds are still chirping but I have to strain to hear them. More of a chatter, or chorus, no more solos.

I see a nice patch of the northern sky from my porch. The North Star has faded of course, but I know where it is.  I cannot see the east or west horizon. I hear more of man's noises now...but, hello there, a soloist near by, and now a sort of call and response. The east sky is white, but I cannot see the Day Star. I can barely see the lines on my paper. A dog is barking, 2, I think people are probably walking by their yards, but I haven't seen any people yet. I really need to experience the sunrise on the desert. Ah...two humans walking a dog, and a crow caws in the distance. A very slight breeze, the leaves on the trees are moving some. The moon is gone...I often see moon sets on the way to work. The stars are gone. There is a slight pink glow in the east. The rest of the sky is more grey than blue. I'm on my third cup of coffee and it's not yet 6:00am. I should hear the church bells soon. The baby across the street is crying. I wonder if my babies (Ethan and Tziporah) are awake. Shouldn't everyone be awake by now?  It's daylight now. I can make out individual bird songs, but can't identify what birds they are from. I know the Robin, Dove, and Crow. I had a friend, Mike Carlson, who was an expert on birds. I bet he'd know what bird was singing what part of the chorus. I see some birds flying by. There is a tall tree across the street. It is half dead. Birds are perching in its branches. I can't tell if they are facing east. the sky to the east is a pale yellow now. Two "Indians" are walking by and the church bells are ringing. 6:00am on the last day of spring. It will be summer by 2:00pm. Sun rise on spring. Sun set on Summer. The longest day of the year. Now that I can see I'll read Psalm 8. The sun is shining on the tops of the trees, they are glowing...Ah...there it is, through the trees, I can see the sun..."Here comes the sun..." didn't the Beatles sing that song..."Good morning Starshine"...isn't that from Hair. This is my 60th summer. It is the first summer in ages that I haven't been involved in Ministry. No VBS, no Tent Meetings, no Mission Teams. Last year we did the Wild Horse event, VBS, Back to School event, plus EV conference. We were looking to an active fall and winter of church growth. But that didn't turn out the way we expected. And I am still dealing with a sense of guilt over the failure of The Mission, and a root of bitterness concerning the EV church, Repenting. Summer is upon us, and I am looking forward to August and the start of a new school year. And that is all I wrote!