Echoes From the Campfire

Whatever happens we cannot break… . We must sacrifice, work, prepare, and fight for the future.”
–Zane Grey (The Desert of Wheat)

“We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future your children will ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’”
–Joshua 4:6 (NLT)
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“Now ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?”
–1 Corinthians 3:16

I could write a dissertation on this scripture, as there is so much stated and implied. I believe it is one of those scriptures that is put aside and perhaps used for convenience rather than for the truth it contains. However, I came across one good reason we should be practicing and realizing this scripture in my devotional reading a couple of days ago. This is something I’ve tried to practice and exhort others, because truly, if we are Christians we are the temple of God. It is taken from Rick Renner’s book, Sparkling Gems From the Greek, Vol II.
He and his wife had just started a church in Moscow, the year was 2000. God moved in the church and they were finding they were continually having to find a larger building, plus the fact they needed an office for the business ends of things. Finally they secure an office “directly in the center of downtown Moscow–a two-minute walk from the Bolshoi Theatre and a short seven-minute walk from Red Square.”
“Because of the building’s prime location, I knew that many high-ranking visitors would come to this office to meet with our ministry. Therefore, our space needed to be decorated professionally and beautifully to make a first-class impression of the Gospel on every person who entered that office.” He and his wife then began to work hard on furniture, wallpaper, carpet, the things that would adorn the new office.
“The reception area was the first room in our office to be wallpapered. This was the most important part of our office because it was where people’s first impressions of our ministry would be made. Many people in this region of the world have historically ridiculed people of faith, so it was essential to us that our guests associate excellence with the name of Jesus Christ as they entered our reception area.”
They had chosen a member of the congregation to hang the wallpaper. She said she was a master of the craft and would even do it for free as a donation to the church. Renner had to attend a meeting in another part of Moscow and he felt confident the work was in good hands. When he returned, “I was shocked! She had hung a lot of paper and done it very quickly, but none of the patterns from strip to strip matched each other.” He was stunned and told her the patterns didn’t match. He made her start over again. This attempt she did match the patterns but put them on crooked. He explained that this room was very important and the paper could be crooked. The woman said, “But if you look at it like this, it doesn’t look crooked.” She had tilted her head sideways. Pastor Renner tore it down again.
“When I saw people staring in disbelief at what I was doing, I turned and explained to them, ‘This room is designed for guests. Nothing less than our best is acceptable. I want every person who enters this room to sense that we care about them and have prepared a place for them that is special and shows them respect.”
What kind of “home” do we have prepared now that the “Spirit of holiness” now resides inside you? Are you happy that He is there? Do you show respect and honor to Him that shows that you are honored that He is there? Far too many “Christians” like the world, look at the world, act like the world, and talk like the world. Hmmm, perhaps they are of the world. Old things have passed away, all things are made new.

Echoes From the Campfire

A real man finishes a job he takes on, and he doesn’t expect to be nursemaided along just because life throws a few potholes in front of him.”
–Douglas Hirt (The Kid)

“And when people escape from the wickedness of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and then get tangled up and enslaved by sin again, they are worse off than before.”
–2 Peter 2:20 (NLT)
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Mom would bring it up sometimes to chide me, “Why didn’t you go to school here; there is a university right here in your hometown.” I can hear her today. I don’t know, I really didn’t want to go to the University of Colorado. I did have some inclination to attend Colorado State as I thought I might pursue a degree in forestry or breeding. However, instead I took off for Missouri, to a private school, no less, that cost much more than I would have paid if I had gone to CU.
But there were two factors really guiding me. First, I believed that this was the direction that the Lord wanted me to travel. Second, for eighteen years my family raised me to make it on my own. I wanted to go and see if I could do it. It was the right decision! I never went back home to live. I never went back to depend on them again. I just don’t understand those who, even in their thirties are still living at home and not making anything of themselves. I have a problem with Christians who say they will serve the Lord as long as it is at home. Thank the Lord there are still those with a missionary mindset, and listen to the words of the old song, “I’ll go where you want me to go dear Lord…”.
Maybe they are scared of what lies out there. If they serve the Lord… They may be of the mindset that it’s not safe and when hit with a circumstance they don’t like they seek a safe shelter. Crazy! There is no safe shelter in this world except in Christ Jesus. One of the problems is that so many do not have a solid base on which to live their lives. “To move into the world we must have a base. Our base is freedom, freedom from self-seeking and self-serving; freedom from living on our own resources; freedom to turn to God.” (Orris E. Kelly, Chaplain) We hear that clamor for freedom, but when you hear what is really being said, people are actually clamoring for slavery. To be truly free, God will become more and more the focus and center of our lives. This will help us meet the world and free us from self-anxiety. Our lives gain momentum, focus, and thrust. We are willing and able to complete the task the Lord has for each one of us to do.

Echoes From the Campfire

A man should stop ever’ now and again and ask himself what he was doing, where he was going, and how he planned to get there. And the hardest thing to learn is that there aren’t any shortcuts.”
–Louis L’Amour (Tucker)

“Good planning and hard work lead to prosperity, but hasty shortcuts lead to poverty.”
–Proverbs 21:5 (NLT)
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Over the years, especially the last few, I noticed that most students have no clue where they are going or what they want to do in life. Most will just say, “make a lot of money.” There is no real plan and when reality hits them they don’t know what to do. That’s one reason we see so many children living at home instead of going out, facing life, and making something of themselves.
Despite the attitude of the day, shortcuts don’t cut it. It’s not alright to do something wrong if it gets you ahead. Go to a prison and talk to the inmates. Many of them are there simply because they wanted a shortcut to wealth.
One more thing to consider–there are no shortcuts to heaven. There is only one gate, “Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” (Matthew 7:14, NKJV)
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I think it was de Tocqueville that said, “When America ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.” Our morals have dropped considerably in the name of political correctness and personal rights. Morals are not relative! Right is right, and wrong is wrong! However, what I want to bring to view is one of the great things about America was/is the great missionary mind it has. The gospel came to America and from here it has spread across the world. One of the reasons America has been so blessed is that it has sent God’s Word throughout the world.
I’d like to share a story from Robert J. Morgan’s book, On This Day. “Christian parents often worry about sending their sons and daughters to colleges and universities. Sometimes with good reason. Young people can ‘lose their faith’ there. But some lose it only to regain it later with added strength.
Adoniram Judson grew up in parsonages around Boston in the 1700s. He entered Brown University at age 16 and graduated valedictorian of his class. While there he became best friends with Jacob Eames. Jacob was a deist and, in practical terms, an atheist. Ridiculing Judson’s faith, he challenged him with the writings of Voltaire and the French philosophers. When Adoniram returned home, he told his parents that he, too, had become an atheist. His mother broke into gentle sobs. His father roared and threatened and pounded the furniture.
Adoniram, 21, migrated to New York City to establish himself as a playwright. But then, hearing tales from the American frontier, he saddled his horse and headed west. One everning, weary from traveling, he stopped at an inn. The proprietor said, ‘Forgive me, sir, but the only room left–well, it’ll be a bit noisy. There’s a young fellow next door awfully sick.’ Adoniram, too tired to care, took the key.
The night became a nightmare. The trampling of feet coming and going. Muffled voices. Painful groans. Chairs scraping against the floor. Adoniram was troubled by it all, and he wondered what his friend Jacob Eames would say about fear, illness, and death.
The next morning while checking out, he asked about the young man in the next room. The proprietor said, ‘I thought maybe you’d heard. He died, sir, toward morning. Very young. Not more than your age. Went to Brown University out East.’ Adoniram stiffened. The man continued, ‘His name was Jacob Eames.’
The West suddenly lost its lure, and Adroniram turned his horse toward home. Soon he gave his life to Christ, and, shortly afterward, devoted himself to missions. On February 6, 1812, Adoniram Judson was commissioned as America’s first foreign missionary. He, his wife, and companions sailed for Burma on February 18.”
I spent 39 years in Christian schools and there was one thing I was greatly concerned about–the lack of those who entered a full-time ministry. I fully understand that one does not have to become a pastor or missionary or evangelist, however, I wonder if people listen to the “call.” I have talked to many over the years and they will say they will do what the Lord wants, but then they give their conditions. It’s one of those things from which we can borrow a military term, “unconditional surrender.”
One reason America is great is became men such as Adoniram Judson heard and heeded the call!

The Saga of Miles Forrest

I had just left the M&M for a walk around town. The weather was delightful as a chinook had blown in and most of the snow was gone. However, that left for muddy streets.  But a person took the good along with the bad.
I was about a block away from the Broken Drum Saloon when I heard the shots. It was my inclination to run toward the shots, but when I saw a guy run from the saloon I decided to just mosey and let Marshal Billy Denton handle this.
No one else exited the Drum and as I was approaching the boardwalk Billy and the man who went for him were running for the batwing doors. Denton went in, and if I had to take a guess he was there maybe a whole two minutes before he came running out. As I came to the doors I heard laughter.
Walking in I took in the situation, and grabbed the man who ran for Denton. “Better go get the head councilman, Billington over here,” then went up to the bar as he ran out.
The tables were full for so early in the day. Reckon, miners were using up the last of last years money before trying to find jobs in the mines in the spring. On the floor, near a table of three rough-looking men lay a body.
“Howdy, Rufus,” I said to the bartender. “Man dead?”
“Forrest. Don’t see you in here much. What can I get you?” returned Rufus.
“I’m hear to check out your coffee. Doin’ a comparison for the Diner.”
“Coffee!” came a voice from the table of toughs. “This ain’t no diner, this is a place for drinking men!” Which brought a laugh from the rest of the room.
I turned my back to the bar and looked at the men. At that time in rushed Billington.
“Where’s the marshal?” he asked blustering.
“Been here, and ran back out,” replied Rufus.
“Do something Forrest!” Billington ordered.
“Okay,” I stooped down to check on the man laying on the floor. “Yep, he’s dead.” Rolling him over I asked, “Rufus, ever seen him before?”
“I don’t really recall the face. He might have been in here before.”
“Forrest, I’m ordering you to do something!”
“Why, Mr. Billington, you’re the closest we have to a law officer for the city in here. I reckon it’s up to you.” I knew I was being ornery, but just couldn’t help myself, but I inched down the bar as I stood to get my coffee.
The man at the table grinned and stood up. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at me,” he paused, spat at the spittoon and missed. “Matter of fact, I don’t like the way you’re looking at me. Why don’t you take me in or draw; one or t’other mister hot-shot.”
I thought Billington was either going to have a stroke or wet his pants. He started shaking and then ran out of the saloon. That brought more laughter.
Turning back I took a sip of coffee. “Not bad, Rufus, but can’t compare to Molly’s.”
“Well, we don’t get much call for coffee in here,” he replied defensively.
“Rufus, I like this town. I live here, I’m a citizen,” then I half-turned toward the table of toughs. “Have you ever seen this bunch before?”
“Naw, they rode in this morning as I was opening up.”
“Well, I reckon I can’t let this ride, it’d ruin your business and affect the safety of citizens,” I said and then to the one who said he shot the man. “You shoot him?”
“I said I did! What’s it to you?”
I swung around bringing the Greener with me, catching the man across the forehead. The other two began to draw, but I brought the Greener around, fired into the ceiling with one shot, then leveled the other on them. I had their attention. “There’s one more shot left. Your choice, boys. Take your hands off your guns and unbuckle them. Nice an’ easy-like.”
They heeded my suggestion. Good thing looks can’t kill. I pointed the shotgun at one. “Pick them up carefully and lay them on the end of the bar.” With that being done, I turned to the man who had run the errands. “Help me get this riff-raff to the jail.”
Speaking to the man’s friends. “Enjoy your drinks, boys.” Then I turned to Rufus. “Sorry, about the ceiling. Let me know and I’ll pay the cost for repair.”
He was looking up when I went out the door. “Come back again, Forrest, but not too soon.”