About Jeny Running Brook

Rev. Jeny Running Brook Covill
(Usdigeyvqua Gayvhi)

Founder of First Nations Monday, a prayer mobilization ministry supporting First Nations / American Indian people and those serving in Native Ministry.  (Established May 2000)

Former host of the Across Turtle Island radio show on KALS 97.1 FM from 2002-2007 and on BigValleyRadio.Com from 2009-2011.  2010 Nominee for Aboriginal Peoples Choice Music Awards (APCMA) for Best Aboriginal Music Radio Program & Recipient of the 2011 Spirit Wind Records Silver Arrow Award for Outstanding Contribution to Native American Radio.

Minister, Pastor, Hospital Chaplain & Enrolled member of the Amonsoquath Tribe of Cherokee.   Official Website:  http://www.firstnationsmonday.com and ministry blog at https://firstnationsmonday.wordpress.com/

Special ‘thanks’ to Indian Life Ministries for running my story in their March 2013 issue (IndianLife.Org) and to Montana Woman Magazine for running a story about me in their December 2013 issue (MontanaWoman.Com).   Both publications have helped in drawing me back to writing.  Wado!


33 thoughts on “About Jeny Running Brook

  1. I found you and your blog through this week Writing Challenge. I LOVE your photos. Montana is a gorgeous state and you capture its beauty to the perfection through your work.
    Thanks for sharing such natural beauty.

    1. Yes, they are! I recently went to an Equine Facilitated Learning Retreat at a ranch for a Clinical Pastoral Education unit. Part of my continuing education. The idea was to sharpen our chaplaincy skills by partnering with horses. Wow. What an adventure. They are very loving and wise, as well as playful. I learned a lot about experiencing their ‘being-ness’, if that is a word.

      1. How fascinating. When I was a kid, I had a neighbor who had a couple of horses. I would trade mucking stalls for lessons and time with the horses. I traveled with her and her mom to horse shows, dressage shows, and I would help her with the horse, especially cooling down. I haven’t had too many other experiences with such fine beings, but I’ll never forget looking in their eyes and imagining what they were thinking. Recently I read a book, a novel about a woman during World War I who traveled around Oregon breaking horses while all the able-bodied men were off fighting. The book is in my Good Reads list. I’ll have to look it up because I can’t remember the name of the book or the author.

      2. I can relate to mucking stalls in exchange for lessons. I didn’t receive formal lessons, but I learned a lot from the people who owned the horses. I started when I was 40+ years old. I had wanted a horse at age 5. However, I didn’t have the opportunity until I was older. You must have had so much fun with all of those shows and travels. I have not heard of that story of the woman in World War I. It sounds wonderful. A book I’m going to start in the next month is called Power of the Herd. It is a book on leadership based on the author’s study of horses.

      3. There certainly is a cost in upkeep. Hay, mineral blocks, replacing water heaters and fencing when needed, annual well checks with dental exams, routine farrier fees for trimming their feet, deworming a couple times a year. The hay costs include the actual hay, tarps to keep it dry if you don’t have a hay shed and then paying someone to haul and stack your hay. The dental includes floating their teeth, which is filing the sharp points down. If you have a pickup and trailer you can haul your horse in to the vet. If you don’t, there is additional cost for the vet to make a house call. Those are the basics.

      4. I think I’ll stick to dogs and cats for now. There are plenty of horses that need attention in Oregon. I’m sure I just have to ask around to see if someone needs someone to ride, though I’m far from being able to just go out and ride. I don’t remember how to saddle or do any of that stuff.

      5. I don’t ride much myself. My mare isn’t trained yet and I don’t have a saddle yet. So I’m doing a lot of getting to know them from the ground. I own the palomino paint and mules. The rest are other peoples horses. I was pretty naive when I started. That was probably a good thing.

  2. A sweet old (16 year old) small quarterhorse gelding moved in next door about 10 days ago. I love him. He’s so smart and his heart is so big and he likes the kids he was gotten for so much. When I come home late from school I call out, “Where’s my horse?” and he whinnies in response, comes to the fence and paws the ground. He’s a rescue horse. His owner is a cowboy, a Mexican cowboy who’s ridden rodeo and taught his little boy to rope when he was only 2 years old. I just love the horse. He might like me a bit, but I think the facet of my personality he likes best is the carrots. It was the greatest thing to go outside one morning and there, essentially in my front yard, was the paint horse of my dreams. It was literally a dream come true. I grew up with horses around me (not my own but my friends had them) and I had no interest, but some experiences almost ten years ago turned my attitude around completely. Now I know they have the ability to understand and actually feel empathy in a very mysterious way. I wish that somehow I’d have a herd of my own old horses to just kind of walk around with in a pasture. That would be something.

  3. The very first post I read was Beading Saves the Day – and I knew I loved this blog! What a surprise to find myself even more interested as I read your about me page! I’m facinated with Native American culture. My grandmother was an orphan, raised by her Native American grandmother until her father remarried. My grandmother recalled insults being spewen at her grandmother (calling her a squaw – in an insulting way – meaning prostitute – and telling her to go back across the river where she belongs – meaning back to the reservation.) Though the culture was lost in our family to some degree, reverence of the earth and all things living along with a unique brand of Christianity was passed down. My grandmother once told me she went to a Catholic school (I later came to believe it was a mission school because she was extremely poor) and that her hair was cut to “look like a boy” and she hated it. My husband is a decendant of the Cherokee. His father was adopted and his name was changed. I think what lingers in our imaginations is the heritage that was lost during a time that it was very unpopular to be an “Indian.”

    1. Thank you so much for sharing this post. I read it when you first posted and then somehow I ‘misplaced’ it. That’s what I get when I read from my phone. LOL. Yes, squaw is an ugly word. I have heard of a few different meanings, all insulting. I am Cherokee descent from both my mom and my dad. I am enrolled with my the tribe in my mom’s line. However, we were not raised with the culture as children. I have been learning and connecting as an adult. More specifically, in ministry, I advocate for Native American cultural expressions in the Christian church. I often think that the ‘unique brand of Christianity’ is more authentic. I don’t know if you have had an opportunity to study the Indian Residential Boarding Schools in the US and Canada which were run by the Catholic and Anglican church, but they were horrible. Although there may be exceptions and I hope there were, in most cases, the children were spiritually, physically, emotionally, mentally and sexually abused. …. I believe with all of my heart that what lingers in addition to what you said, is an actual spiritual inheritance that can still be accepted and grasped. I believe that Creator / God is stirring the hearts, minds, and souls of those who are a remnant. I hear from people all over the country and the world who feel this stirring and sensitivity rising up their spirits. It is mixed with the grief of loss, the anger of injustice, and wonder of what could have been and a hope for the future. Although it was and is unpopular to be Indian in ‘man’s’ view, in Creator / God’s view, it’s perfect. The sad part is that through the boarding schools, our Native people were told that Creator / God thought / thinks it’s bad to be Indian.

      1. I was just reading your reply on my cell and ding a notification and I’ve lost my place. It is a bit tricky to find where you left off!

        I did read a book (I forget the name) about an Indian school as an adult. The things my grandmother told me as a child made more sence after reading it (like why she was not allowed to have long hair as a child and maybe why she wished she could have long hair.)

        I read to my grandmother from “A Cherokee Feast of Days” by Joyce Sequichie Hifler, when she was on her deathbed. She didn’t go to church. She had christian friends but I got the impression she felt she didn’t “fit in.” I know she had a very hard life being an orphan. For many years my mother and I didn’t even know the step-mother she referred to was actually two different step-mothers. I’m sure her grandmother was the only mother she knew. She told me all she remembered of her mother was her hair sticking out of the coffin they took her away in. (Apparently her mother was taller than the coffin they brought.)

        I love your spirituality. I think my grandmother would have loved it too! I know she would have enjoyed your conversation and your interest in beading 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s