Sunday, June 4th, 1995 Dear God, Aren't you proud of me?? This is the first letter you have gotten from me on my new Linux system. I'm not sure you will receive this letter any better than before ... but at least Linux has PPP and SLIP somehow built- into it ... TCP/IP networking-ready, it would seem. So, God, if you have a node on the Internet, you should be able to receive this real well from me, once I get my machine on it ... which it is from time to time. Today I ventured forth to Fayette to go to church at your servant Cheryl's church. Drug a friend with me, Jeff Brotemarkle, whom I have got- ten to know through the Chautauqua Center. He is, I think, a really sin- cere, honest and nice person ... never meaning to hurt and practically unable to hurt anyone ... unless he gets emotional. But don't we all get emotional? Aren't we all emotional creatures? (Perhaps, are you, God?) It was sunny when we arrived there -- and we arrived early. I had thought that church service was at 9:30am, but it started at 10:00 am, which gave Jeff and me a little time to walk around the campus. There was a sun-goddess or sun little artwork that was made by Tom Yancey in concert with another person placed where the old sundial used to be in front of T. Berry Smith Hall. We did church, then. Turned out to be Pentecost. They served Holy Com- munion. I think, God, that this is the first communion I have had since ... well, for a long, long time. Didn't do Easter this year ... or did I? Oh, yeah, I did... did it at Central Methodist Church, I believe, in Kansas City, and was late for dinner with my brother and two sisters and Gwen's two chil- dren. But they didn't do communion on Easter Sunday, as I recall. And I left a note for the minister of Central I think, too. It is certainly the first communion I have had in Linn Memorial Church since ... 1981. After Jeff and I walked around a bit, we stood by the Parish house look- ing at the cornerstones. Ted Spayde came out and said hi, and we had a lit- tle chat about COIN -- changes coming in July. We also talked about the cornerstones. The Parish House had a cornerstone that said "A.F. & A.M" and Jeff and I didn't know what that meant. The man's name listed with that tit- le evidentally was fundamentally involved with the building of the Parish House, and Ted told Jeff and me that it probably had something to do with free-masonry. Then I noticed the other cornerstone on the church building itself, saying "Centenary," which I believe was the name of the original church at that site that ended up needing demolishing because it fell apart. Then out came Rev. Ron Page, Dean Jim Thogmorton and Professor (Dr.) Ken Burres with their wives (well, I don't think Dr. Burres' wife was there) and I introduced Jeff to all of them who I could -- Dean T. introduced him- self and that reminded me I should introduce the others -- but I think Rev. Page had already gone in, and I tried to introduce Dr. Burres, but I forgot his name and had to ask him. Felt a little awkward there. On the way home with Jeff, I brought up Dean T. to Jeff, saying that Dean T. is a very nice man, who was Dean of Students and then who ended up being Dean of Alumni Affairs. I really painted Dean T. as a very good per- son, which I believe he is -- but then pointed out to Jeff that he was the one who kicked me out of Central. It was at that time we were to come to a stop at the intersection of Hwy. 240 and 40 in the rain... and I nearly didn't stop in time-- having to pump the brakes because I was concentra- ting more on the conversation than I was on the driving and approached the intersection going too fast, especially for a rainy day. After that in- tersection was cleared and we resumed highway speed on 40 east to Columbia, I continued to tell Jeff about how I ended up in the hospital for a couple of months after leaving Central (or was kicked out), for when I was there, I was, as I recall, wandering around talking about suicide. It was not very good. I pointed out to Jeff that at one time, they were so concerned, not knowing where I was, that they called the Sheriff to be on the lookout for me. "If that's not love, what is??" I told Jeff. Jeff was a very good traveling companion. He listened to all that I had to share, and was a very good listener. He let me show him around a bit of the campus before church. And we didn't, thank you, get into any accidents, on the way there or on the way back. I told Jeff when we were in church that I was planning to resume study at Central, because I still do not have any undergraduate degree. And on the way home, after I told him I had been kicked out ("and they were right to do so," I told Jeff, "for I would have done it had I been them") I told Jeff that that is some of the reason why I wanted to go back... that I believe I never really have completely forgiven them, and still have (when I want to recall them) some terrible memories of my last month or two there. I told Jeff that I want to replace those bad memories with good memories ... and that I know, now that I am an adult, that I have a lot of power to affect the result of how well or poorly I do there, socially, academically, or any other way. I want to remember Central fondly, lovingly. I do not want to remember it hatefully or as a burden. And I feel I want to offer what gifts I do have to invest in this venture of forgiveness of Central and forgiveness of self for a terrible mark on my past. And when I go there and share in the church service there, sometimes I remember some of the won- derful gifts that God has bestowed upon me. Thank you, God, for the opportunity of sharing part of this day with Jeff. Thank you, God, for friendships and lovingnesses. Thank you for yesterday, in which much of the day was spent beautifully walking around and not tied to this blessing and curse of a device and operating system, the almighty computer and Linux. God, I really don't know where I am going. I feel I am to wait to know where I am to be to serve you well. And I don't really know that I *want* to serve you, for you seem to be such a difficult one to serve well and serving you seems to not be without pain. But so is life, God. But so is life. And running away from serving you may be running away from serving myself with the best that I could do for me and be running away from life altogether. I feel that the past few months have been quite smooth sailing, and I am delighted that they have been so, for I have been unused to such a length of time when my stability seems to be so strong ... even if my personal life has been a bit lonely. I have felt led to investigate doing more for the Chautauqua Center ... and yet I am afraid of that, because of all the negatives I have heard about its guiding group, the board. And yet I feel I would like to invest myself into some worthy cause -- at least carefully at first -- dipping my spiritual toes into the water, as it were. Because I don't want to involve myself into something where I once again lose my mental balance, like I seemed to with the Wesley Foundation. BUT -- the Chautauqua Center doesn't seem to be populated with people with the best mental balance altogether; perhaps there is a lot more balance there than I think, but there are some pretty strange ideas there. (Look at Jeff.) I do feel moved to explore ways of better serving my sentence as a human here on the earth. Being the selfish creature that I am, I have been satis- fied for quite awhile merely taking care of myself -- if what I do could be called that. But I feel the need to express myself outwardly and continue to befriend great people ... and also those who are not so great, like me. I feel empty, somewhat like a hull. And I seek to fill myself with that which is good for me to fill myself with so I may do the best good for this, my world. For this, all of our world. Thank you, God, for taking the time to listen to my sharing with you. For I know you listen, even when I am not addressing myself to you, but es- pecially when I am. Thank you for life, God. Your friend, David