Trust

Good Mornin'

Well, mild, hazy and breezy. Some kinda system come in over night; seems and hopin', there's some moisture in there, somewhere. Even with that storm the other day, so dry it hardly made a dent.

Hauled a tank out to the wild bunch. Patched the corral for the mustang boys. Still tryin' get their pasture up. Still movin' kinda slow; the teeth pullin' not so bad, but the anti-biotics sure take a toll.

Might have a chance, see my heart teacher, first week a August; forty years since he began his work, there. An event planned in Los Angeles. Looks like I might can make it; a friend sent me some dough, but I still gotta find some cover for the horses and dogs. Try and raise a little more, cover the help, a hotel and groceries.

Might seem frivolous, goin' ta see a teacher; so many "larger issues" on the stove. But, fact is, without his help, I'd never have made it half this far. And, challengin' as my situation can be, if I'm gonna make it any further, it'll only be fer trust. Seems I remember a story, 'bout gifts, miracles and how they are like those large cargo planes, bring food into refugee camps. Thing is, they need a fair, clean runway. Trust is like that runway; my effort, make a way, steady, long and clear of debris. And, don't know, why or how, but seein' him, I never seen anything, generate so much; matter of fact.

Maybe so much, from the time I was born, made me shake; made me doubt. Everytime, I seen him, just like a season turnin', sure as sun, a page is turned and my whole world takes a turn for the quiet, for the steady, toward a knowin'; I can trust. It will work. And, sure enough, a way opens up. If it hadn't, I wouldn't be here writin'; somethin', from the "git go", seemed ta placed a mark on me. This one, no way! 'Cept, maybe, he learns ta believe in trust and miracles. And, not the fancy ones; water out a rocks, or such. But, the little ones, nobody'd ever think; like me makin' it one more day, all my critters fed.

Have a great day!

Best,
jeune