Echoes From the Campfire

Our knowledge is like an iceberg; we know a little, but the vast amount we have yet to learn still remains hidden from us.”
–Louis L’Amour (Callaghen)

“No, the wisdom we speak of is the mystery of God—his plan that was previously hidden, even though he made it for our ultimate glory before the world began.”
–1 Corinthians 2:7 (NLT)
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What a time of year this is! Time has been divided with the birth of Jesus. Of course the more enlightened ones use BCE and CE, but come on, where did they make the break? B.C. — “before Christ” and instead today the politically correct usage is “before the common (or current) era”. Silly, really silly. Just because the brilliant ones do not want to use the name of Christ it is still divided by His birth.
The birth of Jesus marks the change of so many things. One that is often forgotten is that there was a political change. Isaiah proclaimed that the “government would be upon His shoulders.” Herod was afraid that he might lose his throne. The Jews brought Him to trial for saying He was a king and therefore a threat to the Roman Empire. Jesus simply replied that His kingdom was not of this world. He is reigning, but most people do not recognize it, but soon, He will come back to earth to reign as King. This all went into action at His birth.
Here is a wonderful carol that we seldom hear anymore.

“In the little village of Bethlehem,
There lay a Child one day;
And the sky was bright with a holy light
O’er the place where Jesus lay.”
–William H. Neidlinger

It may be hard to see that the hay was a holy place, especially when compared to the majestic throne of heaven, but wherever He was it was holy. We should grasp that, for the same should be true if we are truly following Him. We are His temple on earth. Yet, that makes me wonder why so many so-called Christians profane the temple of the Holy Spirit.
The manger, the stable, the lowly position of being a commoner was so different to His glorious abode. Jesus came to show us true humility is actually part of being a king. Service is part of the action of a king. That small babe, lying there, came to give the world so much. That day, the day of His birth began a great scene in the cosmos both physically and spiritually. From that day forward He would proceed to fulfill His purpose and mission for mankind.

“’Twas a humble birthplace, but O how much
God gave to us that day,
From the manger bed what a path has led,
What a perfect, holy way.”

This season, whenever you see the colored lights, remember the Person who created “light.” When you see the lights on a tree or in a store, remember these represent His birthday. Even if the display is completely secular, it could not happen without the creator of lights.
Look up and see the stars. Those celestial lights shine every night and they were created by the king. We would not have them if not for a word from His lips.
Christmas! How we should look up and rejoice! How we should bow our heads in humility for the great gift of the heavenly Father. There is much commercialization of Christmas, but none of it could have happened without the birth of Jesus.

“Alleluia! O how the angels sang.
Alleluia! How it rang!
And the sky was bright with a holy light
’Twas the birthday of a King.”

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Christmas Thought: “Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.”
–Oren Arnold

The Saga of Miles Forrest

We all rushed down to the Judge’s place, then ran up the stairs. The Judge was awake and complaining that he was hungry. Doc went over and checked his head, cleaning the wound and replacing the bandage.
“Don’t try to get up just yet. We’ll get some stew over to you,” said the Doc.
That was good news; something to be thankful for. Doc told him to stay in bed, and for us not to bother him for at least another day. With a cracked skull, he needed to take things slowly.
“Tomorrow, I want him moved downstairs,” said the Doc to no one in particular. “I don’t want him trying to come down those stairs or go up them.”
A few days later found Charlie, Doc, and I sitting around the table at the Diner. It was cold outside and the stove just off to my left was putting out the heat, and there was a coffeepot sitting on top which we used quite frequently. We had just finished a big piece of mincemeat pie; it was filled with elk and it sure made the stomach feel satisfied. I had an egg on the side, fried to perfection. Hannah and Greta still had their egg farm, but Hannah wouldn’t venture close to the Diner; Greta or a delivery boy, sometimes Tommy made the deliveries.
We were chit-chatting and the talk turned to the Doc being thunked up side the head and the Judge’s cracked skull. Both were doing much better now. The Judge was still either in bed or sitting in a chair. We had brought a cot into the dining room where he could lay down.
“Those owlhoots must be holed up somewhere either in town or just outside,” Charlie said out of nowhere. “There are two of them crippled up now. Perhaps, I’ll go make a few rounds to check up on the folk on the fringe of town.”
“Not a good idea,” I said. “You no longer wear a badge.”
“What?” They heard me chuckling to myself.
“I think the thing to do is for me to grab Billy Denton and for him and I to go out and check the homes outside town. Make him work a bit for the town’s money.”
They both laughed and I got up to refill the coffee cups.
“No, dead serious,” I said. “I’m goin’ to get him and we’ll ride out each day.”
“Say,” Doc spoke up. “Election is coming next March for sheriff. Charlie, you have the experience, why don’t you run for sheriff?” he looked around for Marta. “Of course, being sheriff will take you out of town once in a while.”
“Nah, he couldn’t handle it,” I said. “He’s tied tight by her apron strings.”
Marta walked over and we quieted down. “What are you worthless guys talking about?”
I got up again and grabbed the coffeepot. “Their cups are full, Senor Miles.”
“Marta,” Doc began, “we were thinking that Charlie should run for sheriff. That would give him a good job, and a steady income. Might even make him want to settle down.”
She stood there with hands on her hips. “Hmmmm, and get him shot at.”
“Yeah, but at least he’ll be gettin’ paid for it,” I said.
“Paid for what?” asked Molly as she came out of the kitchen joining our group.
“They want Charlie to run for sheriff,” Marta explained to Molly.
There was a stillness, Molly had assumed the same posture as Marta. Then the front door opened…

Echoes From the Campfire

The small things matter. Be attentive.”
–J.B. Turner (Hard Road)

“If you are faithful in little things, you will be faithful in large ones. But if you are dishonest in little things, you won’t be honest with greater responsibilities.”
–Luke 16:10 (NLT)
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“It’s an old-time Christmas
With family and friends ’round the tree…”
–unknown (Randy Travis sang on his Christmas album)

The Lord sure started the season by giving us some blessings. Annie and I had the opportunity to go back to San Antonio for a reunion of sorts with old, no, I mean former teachers (except for one) this past weekend. If you are my friend on facebook you can see us gathered ’round the tree, or blocking the front of it, whichever you prefer.
Always good to get with that group. Special bunch of people. Then we stayed the night with the good friends–the Hembrees and they took us out for breakfast on Sunday. After that we figured we would at least go to Sunday School and maybe give the Minters a shock by walking in. Good to see them as well; wish we could have stayed for he was preaching that morning.
We then rushed home, so we could get back on the road again to Beaumont to see Annie’s brother before they go back to Pennsylvania. We put in a few miles, but what is that when you have the chance to see family and friends?
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Christmas Thought: “If I no more come home at Christmas time, there will be boys and girls (thank Heaven!) while the World lasts; and they do!.. And I do come home at Christmas. We all do, or we all should. We all come home, or ought to come home, for a short holiday…”
–Charles Dickens (“A Christmas Tree”)

This time of year should be a time when a person can get home, or at least be at home where they are, and at the very least make it home in their dreams. It can be a lonely time, but if a person comes home in their mind, at least they have memories of Christmas.
We watch, yes I said “we”, the Hallmark Christmas movies, and many of them have the idea of coming home for Christmas. Pondering some of those, and people I actually know, who don’t want to be “home” for Christmas. They still can’t avoid the thoughts and memories. To avoid Christmas is to think about it. To say “bah, humbug” is to make a conscious decision about Christmas. One cannot be indifferent toward the birth of Christ or from the Christmas season. It is there!
Since it is there, do something with it. Do not squander the time running hither and yon. Go home for Christmas, even if it is just a quiet time during the holiday. If you had bad experiences at Christmas, place them aside and think of the lights and laughter of the present.
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Having a problem finding a Christmas gift? Go to Amazon and purchase, “Mal de Ojo.” Then give it to someone, or yourself, make a cup of coffee (or this time of year some hot cocoa), and enjoy a time of reading.

Coffee Percs

They had a small hot fire going in no time and water boiling. Smoke from the burning dry twigs faded into nothing after rising only a foot or two. They finished coffee and breakfast by the time it was light enough to hitch up the wagons.”
–Paul L. Thompson

Christmas time’s a-comin’, get yourself in here, for the coffee’s hot, dark, and strong; ready to get yuh goin’ today and help yuh stay alert with all the crazies on the road. I’m burnin’ daylight myself, so better get this out before my eldest gets riled and her coffee cold. Amazin’ that folks all over the country can read these little percs. Time’s sure changin’.
Have to get things ready, need to make a little run today, but will be back tomorrow. Busy weekend, and I’m supposed to be retired! Guess, that’s what retirement means, being tired. Say, here’s one for you: What do you call people who are afraid of Santa Claus? Claustrophobic!
Ahhhh! That’s good coffee! ‘Course any coffee is good if that’s all yuh got. I’ve read that there are coffee snobs out there who will only drink certain coffee and made with certain coffee-makers. Notice, it has to be a coffee-maker, not just a coffeepot. They have to grind their own beans. Now, me, excuse me while I take a long sip, as for me I’ll grind my own, or I’ll use already ground. I’m not that picky, exceptin’ if it’s too weak. Can’t do much with weak coffee. If a person doesn’t like strong coffee (pity them) they can always add a little water, but nothing can be done for weak coffee.
Let me get yuh a refill as I’m needin’ one myself. Back to weak coffee. Guess it is kinda like life itself. What can be done with a weak life? I’ve worked with a few weaklin’s; good for nothin’ except to get in the way. That’s one reason that good people are busy–they do their job and help the weaklin’ get through. Sure makes me wonder what the future holds with all those snowflakes, twinkies, and cupcakes out there whinin’ and bawlin’ ’bout life not bein’ fair.
Pot’s empty? Reckon that means it’s time to be headin’ down the road. Be careful out there, and may the Lord take a special likin’ to you this season of Christmas.
Check that cinch! Strong a person as you are, yuh can’t be fallin’ off due to a loose or weak cinch.