I've been back in Nashville TN since DEC 20. I wrecked my truck in Windsor, and the insurance settlement enabled us to get a new car. It's a sweet Toyota Camry (white).

This has been something of an object lesson for me. My old, passionately loved truck has been replaced via a strange accident with a new, better one. I am still finding out what this new lifestyle (a car is a symbol of our lifestyle) is.

  The Flow   And the blood flows Down between seems and the cushion seats of a family’s very old sofa   The smell of that blood Is the very sweetest smell on earth And it forces happy tears And smiles full of joy All of them born of deepest heart-crushing gratitude   And the blood flows Like a flood of light beaming Bathing the family temple With golden light Not a shadow hides within This living room of lives unfolded Unfolding   And Oh Yes, the blood flows on And over …

 So, I drove through the rain, from Nashville to Windsor, and had a pretty pleasant trip. The leaves are in full color. It was like driving through a picture post card all the way.

I woke up this morning, and went in search of a wifi restaurant. I found this gorgeous little cafe (The Social Bean Cafe) on Grand Marais (Down by the Salvation Army building). The rest of Windsor doesn't seem to have entered the 21 century.

Looking for open doors.

 I have waited for this time to come for about 35 years.

I am going to Windsor Canada to do what God has called me to do. He called me when I was 15, to build Christian community as an envoy (apostle) of Jesus. Yeehah!

If you can, and want to, pray for me, and my wife.

  Words & music © by John R. Brusseau, 7/22/2009   An angel seated alone at a quite booth in a busy café No one can see him No one knows he’s there   And he is not like the angels you imagine No sterile wings No impersonal halo’s He is fifty-ish, and spreading To say he is dressed casually would be being kind   You wouldn’t know this angel as flawless like some plastic figurine He’s not   He’s carried many miss-aimed arrows and …

A strage place
no creativity for the usual things, yet gushing creativity for things I seldem do
I've written but one song in the past week
and can't do any work at all on my drawer full of short stories
I can talk to people on line though
and this blog
Strange
I sense I am meant to be on hold before the comming of something really big