Blessed with one of the most fabulous views one can imagine is outside our back windows. We overlook the vast expanse of Lake Ontario. Amazingly, a body of water could have so many faces. I am one of those odd people that believe nature speaks. At times the lake can be wild. Huge waves violently crash on the shore. Over time, the shoreline gives in. A large pine tree lived its life too close to the relentless erosion caused by consisting waves lashing at its roots at beach level. From our window, we watch it slowly lean into the lake. It will eventually float off to some unknown shore or become waterlogged and sink. Nature is forever changing—more about this latter.
 
This morning a large crow sat in another tree well back from the shoreline. Crows are special to me. God sent ravens to feed the great prophet Elijah meat and bread in the morning and the evening. They are not many ravens around here. We do have crows. Crows and ravens are different but are of the same family of birds. When I see a crow, it reminds me of God's supply for His prophet. Ravens were considered unclean in the old testament. They are known for eating "roadkill" dead animals.
I understood something that was life-changing.

​I just had wonderful dream last night. I was the pastor of a church of “misfits.”
 The fact I was the pastor I think has little to do with the dream. I too was a misfit.
 The church was wonderfully chaotic but had a strange hidden order. A leader from the 
 past church system was there and seemed to fit in that was Marc Dupont. His personage
 I believe may have been representative of the prophetic, meaning this is yet to come. 
Another leader I knew and respected was there on the piano. He did not play and was not acknowledged.  This speaks of the fact that not all leaders could handle the “organized disorganized” church service.
 None the less Marc was delighted .  
​

Like a ship with a broken rudder
Like a poet without a poem
A painter without a canvas
And a singer without a song
A man losing his faith
 
Hold tight
The darkness of night
Must give way to the dawn
She brings a new ship
A new poem
A sweet song
And hope

​It was at the northern stretch of a European tour when my eyes were open to a reality that has always stayed with me. We followed the route up into Scandinavia with its breathtaking beauty. I liked the rugged northern part of the European continent as it reminded me of my Canada. The trip from Stockholm Sweden to Turku Finland through the hundreds of islands was beautiful reminding me again of areas in Canada I have traveled. I went up to this land of the Vikings twice.

We were camped in the desert
 
A permanent place
 
No one knew God had gone
 
But they were still a plantin.

The dream is real
              Regain the dream
Pass through the pain
                The power is great
It's not where you're looking
                   But the dreams still real

As a young kid, I was fascinated with the Indians as we called them. They were noble, colourful and contained a mystery that I wished I had. I loved their connection and reverence for nature.

As with black slaves, they too were looked at as less than human by the European settlers. European sicknesses and diseases some say wiped out perhaps 75% of the aboriginal population. Treaties agreed upon in good faith were routinely broken by the white man. Much more than their land was taken. There was a dark plan to control and change their very essence.