Prayer Updates

• Last week I asked for prayer and here are the updates:
  The meeting with leadership from a Salmon Arm church went very well. We takled about specifics in developing a contextualized outreach to Native young people locally. As the meeting developed, it became clear that Trent and Lynelle Blumenthal were to be a big part of the answer to that prayer. They have a gift for working with children. The church will be looking into what they can pledge towards support so the Blumenthal's can get out here and step into this work. That church might be able to bring their support to 90%! Praise the Lord for providing a specific ministry for the Blumenthal's to step into when they arrive, and for expected support locally. Pray, too, for the additional support they will need to move to Salmon Arm. Pray that God would provide just the right place for the Blumenthal's to live when they do move here.
• We still need to have a location either on a Reserve, or very near to one. May God clearly direct us to a place where we can start a Bible Talking Circle (like Sunday School).
• The elder continues to heal and gain strength. Jannie and I have been invited to a family gathering soon. Give thanks to the Lord for healing our friend, and providing more opportunities to minister to that family.

Creations Song - (4 of 4) the end

Song-Maker could have stayed there forever, he thought; but then he heard Snine say, “We must return.”
Snine and Song-Maker rose into the air, and in a few moments, they were back at the brook, where their journey had begun.
Snine asked, “How did you feel?”
Song-Maker opened his eyes. The brook was still singing on its way. He was still laying on the moss but He didn’t see Snine anymore. Still, the question Snine asked filled his head, “How did you feel?”
Song-Maker thought about his dream. As he thought, he began to smile. The smile came from a warmth deep within.
He opened the basket and took out some pemmican. He raised the food to the sky, and thanked the Creator for his dream and the food. He thanked Him for his family, friends, and everything around him.
He spent the rest of the day and night by the brook, eating and thinking. In the morning, he began his trip back home. The distance seemed to fly past as he walked deep in thought. He remembered his father’s words about being so far away and in a place with unknown spirits, but it didn’t seem to matter. There was a peace deep within.
When he arrived home, the whole village came and gathered around him. They wanted to know about his travels and adventures. They wanted to know if he found what he was looking for.
Song-Maker took the basket off and quietly laid it on the ground. He took out his flute and without saying a word, he motioned for all to sit down. Song-Maker waited as the elders and his parents were seated in the front, and then the others found a place to sit. Dogs were running about and a couple of children were crying, as Song-Maker raised the flute to his lips. His eyes slowly looked up and were fixed on the sky as if he were searching for something. He raised his flute in both hands and in almost a whisper said, “Kukwstsamc T-kwalt Kukpi,”(Thank you Chief of all Chiefs). A smile flooded his face as he lowered the flute. With his eyes closed, he danced and played. His other music was pleasant to the ears, but this music was different, as if it came from deep within. Even the dogs and children became quiet.
An Elder began to nod his head, and then another, and another. When he finished the song, an elder smiled and said, “You found the Creation Song, didn’t you?”
Song-Maker smiled and answered, “Yes…I think so.”
The elder continued, “Where did you find it? Was it far away, in a valley or on a mountain top?”
Song-Maker’s words came easily, as they came from his heart, “I didn’t find the Creation Song, it found me.
I heard the brook singing ‘Kukwstsamc’(Thanks) and I saw the trees waving their golden leaves as if to say, ‘Kukwstsamc.’ The birds sang, ‘Kukwstsamc’, and all of creation joined in to honor the Creator. Then I understood that all I have has come from the Creator. From my deepest heart, I too said, ‘Kukwstsamc’. It was then that a new song filled my heart.” ; The elder smiled, and in that smile was the recognition that he, too, knew the Creation Song.

Creations Song - (3 of 4)

Coyote composed himself and slowly spoke, “Go to the snowy mountains and you will see a spot on the side that looks like red stone. Above those rocks a great battle occurred long long ago. Two shamans were arguing about who was the greater, and they used their magic to fly and show their power. First one flew, and then the other showed that he, too, could do that trick. Each flew higher and farther. Finally, one said to the other, ‘I will fly from the side of this mountain over the lake and to the other mountain on the other side.’
He flew again, but his magic wasn’t strong enough to take him over the lake. He fell and hit the rocks, and that is why the rocks are red today.”
“Along the place of the red rocks, you will find a trail. Take the trail up the mountain until you come to a small lake. That is a power spot, and perhaps you can find what you are looking for there?”

Song-Maker thanked Coyote for his kind help, and to began the journey the next morning. He was weak from fasting and the journey was hard. Every time he looked up, it seemed as if the mountain was no closer than it had been an hour ago. Weary from walking, Song-Maker stopped to rest along a small brook. The water was clear and cold. It gurgled over rocks as it went on its way from the snow to the valley. He took off his pack basket and took a long drink. He sat down on a thick soft patch of moss. He lay back against the basket like a pillow and closed his eyes. He was tired, so very tired. The last thing he heard was the brook.
In the soft stillness and wrapped in the sounds of creation, Song-Maker fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamt.
He dreamt of home and his family. He saw his mother singing as she prepared a meal. Suddenly, Snine appeared and asked him, “Wha..wha..what did you see?”
Song-Maker answered, “I was home.”
“How did you feel?” Sneena asked.
“I felt good”, Song-Maker answered.
Snine asked, “What do you hear?”
“I hear the brook singing on its way to the valley below,” Song-Maker said.
“How does it make you feel?” Snine asked.
“My heart is glad to hear the song of the brook,” Song-Maker answered. Snine blinked his large amber eyes and said, “Come with me.” With that, Snine spread his large wings and with just a few strong flaps, rose into the air. In his dream, Song-Maker also found himself rising with Snine, and they both flew to the snowy mountain. Song-Maker saw the animals below; the elk, moose, deer, and bear. The birch, aspen, and poplar trees were in their Fall colors, brilliant yellows and gold. Ahead, he could see the red rocks on the mountainside, just as Coyote had said. They flew higher and higher, up the mountain they went. He knew it was a dream, but he felt the air get cooler and cooler as they went higher. Sneena glided to a little high mountain saddle, with a small lake, and landed on a low limb of a pine tree. Song-Maker never felt the landing, but dreams are like that, he thought. The grass around the lake was short and thick. There were small groups of low growing juniper dotting the area. Swamp tea grew there, and also the avalanche lily. Song-birds, finch, and chickadees colored the air with their songs. Song-Maker drank in the beauty; he breathed in the fragrant air, and listened to the birds and the nervous barks from a small red estsek (squirrel).

Creations Song - (2 of 4)

The son said that he hoped that he wouldn’t be away a long time. He was well prepared with provisions. His mother gave him a birch-bark bundle, “it is pemmican, with huckleberries, just how you like it,” she said, with a sad smile.

Faced with the reality of leaving, the young man’s heart sank in his chest. He wondered if he should go after all?
How could he leave his parents and community and go after a song that might not exist? Could he do it alone?

Song Maker, (that was his name), took a deep breath and sighed deeply. He hugged his mother but kept his eyes on the mountains in the distance. With that, he said goodbye, and began walking away. To cheer him on his way, he took out his flute and began to play. He was on his adventure and with each new step, his confidence rose.

He went one days walk from the village. He made his summer shelter using cedar bark and poles to arrange a tee-pee like shelter. He tied the pemmican bundle to a pole inside the shelter to keep it from vermin and insects. He made a fire and began to play his flute. His music was strong and good. Day after day, he fasted, prayed, and played his flute.

On the fourth day of his fast, Coyote came to him. He sat next to him and listened to the music. Though weak with hunger, Song Maker’s music was still strong and good. Coyote nodded his head with approval.
“You are far from the village?” asked Coyote.
Song Maker answered, “I have been further on hunting trips.”
Coyote glanced about him, looking into the bush and up into the trees. He wanted to know if they were really alone.
Coyote was jealous of Song-Maker and his music. He thought of a trick to try on the boy. Seeing no one else, he said, “your songs are nice, but they seem to be missing something. Don’t you agree?”
Song-Maker had been fasting for four days. He was hungry and tired, and in no condition to match wit’s with that wily old Coyote. Since Song-Maker’s heart was good, he trusted others, and he also trusted Coyote. Song-Maker let out a sigh and his forehead wrinkled as he was deep in thought. He slowly said, “Perhaps you are right. My songs sound nice but are soon forgotten. I think there is a deeper music; a music that the heart remembers long after the song is quiet.”
Coyote smiled a little to himself, “he is believing me”, he thought. Sounding very concerned, Coyote then said, “I have heard that there is a powerful place in the mountains where the birds learn to sing their songs. I don’t suppose that could help…”
Song Maker looked up and fixed his eyes on Coyote. “Please, can you tell me more and how to find this place you speak of?” Song-Maker asked. Coyote was so pleased with himself that he had a hard time not laughing out loud. Coyote thought to himself, “The journey is too far. I can wear the boy out. He will never make it and be so discouraged, that he will stop making music,”

Creations Song - a story by Howard J.

A long time ago, when the earth was new, a young man made a flute. He listened carefully and learned to play the songs of the birds. His music charmed his family and community. Everyone was glad when he came, because his music made the people glad.

One day, a Raven landed in a tree while the young man was playing. When the boy finished, the Raven spoke, “That was nice.”
The young man smiled and thanked Raven for his kind words.
Then Snine (owl) asked if he could play the Creation Song. The young man sat puzzled as he tried to think. After a while, he answered that he didn’t know the Creation Song.
“Whoo…who…when you know that song, you will know them all,” Snine softly said; and with that, he flew away without a sound.

The young man asked the other musicians in the village if they knew the Creation Song. Some of them said that they knew it, but wouldn’t share it with him. Then they would argue with each other, each claiming to know the Creation Song and saying that the others did not know it.

The young man went to the elders and asked if they knew the Creation Song. Each one said that he had heard of it, and at rare moments while fasting and praying up in the mountains, they heard a soft sweet music more beautiful than any they had heard before. It seemed to only come when they were quiet and listening. Yet, they seemed to hear it with their heart and not their ears. The moment that they became aware of the music and tried to listen with their ears, the music stopped.

“I want to learn this song,” announced the young man. He went to his home and chose a large basket like the ones the Oolichin Grease traders would use for their great trips. He packed it with clothes, rope, antler tools, and his flute. As he prepared to go, his mother and father came and spoke to him, “where are you going with the large basket, my son?”
“I am going into the mountains to try to find the Creation Song,” he answered.
“Please stay with us, do not go away,” his mother pleaded, “we depend on you to play for us and make us happy.”
“Mother, while I know many songs, they do not fill my heart,” he answered. “I think there is a Creation Song, a song of songs, the best of the songs, and I must hear it…or at least I must try.”

“Well, do not go far, my son,” his father said, “stay a few days out there, and then come home again.” His father thought that the journey would be too great for him. Besides, there were spirits out there, spirits that were not known to them. It was dangerous to go far from the village…alone. (part 1 of 4)

Doing and Being

When I was a little guy, I used to listen to the missionary at church and imagine how he did his job. Somehow, I thought, he would go to the remote village and the people would come to hear him speak. It never occurred to me that the people in the village had to gather food, and might not be available to sit around for hours a day listening to a stranger. I had an idea of how a missionary "does" his work of sharing the Gospel. What if the people the missionary is trying to reach are not interested in his "God talk"?
I heard of a missionary to the Native people in the Southwest of America back in the late 1800's. He put up a sign in front of his house saying, "If you want to get saved, come to the house." After a couple of months of waiting for people to ask about God and nobody came, the missionary determined that the people weren't interested in getting saved, so he ended his efforts and left.
Certainly, we are supposed to be ready to "give an answer for the hope within us" at any given moment, but isn't there more to being a Christian than just "doing"? I have a neighbor who is pretty turned off about Christianity. For years, Christians made him a "project", to get saved. When he didn't say the prayer and walk the aisle, the Christians dropped him and left him alone. When the Lord Jesus told the parable about the wheat and the weeds, he said that the wheat would grow up along side of the weeds. While we are here, living next to unsaved friends and neighbors, God wants us to show His love for them through us. That may take a long time.
Ephesians 5:18b says, "be filled with the Holy Spirit." The verses that follow speak about showing Agape Love in marriage. Those verses are connected to v.18, because we can't show that self sacrificing unconditional love without the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.
Whether we are missionaries, corporate professionals, janitors, or parents, we need to be ready to both speak the Gospel, and live the Gospel. Doing and Being, and both by the power of the Holy Spirit.
So, when you are trying to imagine what I do as a missionary, imagine Jannie and myself looking for opportunities to do good deeds and live out Christ's love for my Native neighbors. Now and then, we find opportunities to share our Faith with others. It isn't like my boyish imagination, with people crowding around to hear about Jesus, ...not yet. :)

Prayer Requests

Friends of ours, Trent and Lynelle Blumenthal, have been assigned to work with us in the Shuswap. Please pray that God would bless their efforts in gathering a support team. They are at over 80% support, and eager to get out here to the work. We are eager to have their help. :)

We have been doing hospital visitation for an elder from the Adams Lake Band. God has been merciful and brought physical healing to his body. Please pray for an opportunity to meet with him and his family on a regular basis for Bible studies.

October 24th, I have a meeting with leaders from a church in Salmon Arm. They want to be active in outreach to the Reserves here in Salmon Arm. What a wonderful thing that God is raising up workers to reach the Shuswap People for Christ! Please pray that God would direct the meeting, and pray for opportunities for local Christians to serve their Shuswap neighbors.

Pray, and expect miracles!
~Howard :)

What's with the strange name?

If you don't read Secwepemctsin, the Shuswap language, the word "Tsi7" doesn't make sense. Perhaps I should explain what it means. The word, Tsi7, means - deer. Pronouncing it would be like saying, "Chee", but ending the "ee" sound quickly.
Last Spring, in the language class, I was nicknamed "Tsi7". It got a few laughs, but then something rather odd happened. A deer walked by the window of the school. That doesn't happen. In the eyes of the Native world view, that was a sign. A confirmation to my "Indian name." So, my name is Tsi7, and that explains the "Tsi7 Report". :)
It doesn't matter how I feel about it, that is how it is; but I wonder how I would feel if the name were, shall we say, a bit tougher sounding? Why couldn't my name be "grizzly", "elk", or "even the mighty "moose"? A cougar is a really cool animal, too. You could imagine naming your sports team, The Cougars, or The Grizzlies; but calling a team, The Deer. Well, I don't think the advertising marketing section would find it easy to get subscriptions.
On the other hand, I wasn't called, "Skeki" - spider, or "Swellw"- fish. Come to think of it, there are many creatures that I could have been named and it is nice that I wasn't. Taking the imagination one step further, I wonder what the Shuswap People would have named our Lord Jesus if he walked among them? The Scripture describes him as one so gentle that he wouldn't extinguish a smoldering wick, or break a bruised reed. Children were always welcome in his arms and they loved to be with Jesus.
In Shuswap cosmology, the Creator can tell a deer when people are hungry, and the deer will offer itself to a hunter. The hunter will get only one shot, but he will need only one, if he is worthy. I believe that God has asked me to leave my country, home, and family and come to serve the Shuswap People. There is a dying to self to accept this call.
So, perhaps being called Tsi7 does make sense after all. I am called to be gentle like a deer, and to offer myself for the good of others. Yeah, Tsi7 is a good name. With God's help, I will live up to it.

Grateful

Grateful, I am. I went on a trip up the mountain with some friends, Dave and Karen. It was their first time in British Columbia, so we went to the top of the mountain behind us. I brought a rifle just in case God wanted to give us a deer. On our way down the mountain, that is what happened. We "happened" across a group of mule deer. There was one buck in the group, a "spike buck", and I shot it.
As I was butchering the deer the next day, a friend of a friend stopped by. He said, "I see you got a little one."
His words stung, implying that I had no discretion for what animals I harvested. He went on, "I am taking my quad out this weekend and going moose hunting." He made sure I knew that he had money, because he could afford a quad, and that he went after "really big game." I wished him well and left.
That displays a difference between my thinking and the usual "white" hunters out here in BC. I believe that the animals belong to God. I ask the Creator for permission to harvest one of His animals. I am willing to receive what the Creator gives me. In this case, God chose to give me a spike buck, maybe two-three years old. I gratefully received it.