Echoes From the Campfire

A lot of people had come from a lot of places, but to each one his home was the end of a trail that started somewhere afar off.”
              –Louis L’Amour (Passin’ Through)

    “But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.”
              –Hebrews 11:16 (NLT)
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Annie’s and my journey actually started out at the Evangel University (it was College back then) library.  I took a deep breath, gathered up my courage and asked her out.  From that point we have not been apart.  We started out in Missouri, and our lives have led us to many places.  Except for the years in the military, we figured that each one of the homes was the end of the trail, but nope, we would pack up and move.  The longest we stayed any one place was in San Antonio.  We were there for 22 years, and now have spent a year living with Kimberly.  In the past week we have finally moved to our new house in Coldspring, TX.  A home–not yet.  It takes the touch of a woman to make a house a home, but I am confident that it will soon be a home.
    I have heard and read where people have said that it isn’t the destination, but the journey along the way that counts.  That is only partly true.  The journey gives us experience, help develops our character, and challenges us to see if the destination is worth it.  Some will falter along the way, but once starting out on the trek, don’t stop–the eternal city of Heaven will be worth the journey, and it the thing that counts.
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    I went to the Marine Museum when it first opened and one of the first sights you see upon entering the display area is a man upon the ramparts fighting.  He was a small man in stature, 5’6″, 135# but was a fighting man, touch, determined, and disciplined–Dan Daly.  In his military career he earned two Medals of Honor.
    While at the American Embassy, in what was then Peking, Daly was holding the fort while others went to gather supplies.  It was then that the Boxers decided to attack.  Daly was the only one between the attackers and the American diplomats.  He quickly went into action and when his squad returned they saw the carnage that Daly wrought upon the enemy with 200 dead Boxers.
    A decade-plus later, serving in Haiti; his platoon was on a reconnaissance patrol.  As his platoon was crossing a river 400 Haitian Caco rebels opened fire.  The Marines managed to cross and set up defensive positions, but during the attack in the river their heavy machine gun fell into the river.  That night Daly went to the river and dove in, found the gun, and carried it back to his platoon.  The next morning the Marines completely annihilated the rebel units.
    During World War I, Daly saw action in several campaigns.  He won three more combat medals and was wounded three times.  At Belleau Wood, German forces were slaughtering Americans as they attempted to cross an open field to get to the woods.  Daly, frustrated, shouted, “Come on…do you want to live forever?” and he charged out to meet the enemy.  He was nominated for a third Medal of Honor, but even the Marines decided that would be one too many.
    It is a shame that there is not much information on his career.  If I am not mistaken, he retired from the Marine Corps, and became a doorman at either an apartment building or hotel.  That makes me think of those in Hebrews 11, where their name is not mentioned.  We know little about them, except the few whose exploits are mentioned.
    Dan Daly did not desire fame; he was simply a man who did his duty.  A man who put his life on the line for his country.  Yet, we have the cry-babies, the snowflakes out there who whimper that life is just too tough.  They need safe zones.  Think of men like Dan Daly when you see someone kneel while the National Anthem is played.

Echoes From the Campfire

Art comes from the man, not the material.  The man of mystery, of genius, not only meets but exceeds the standards of excellence; he sets higher standards, opens new ground, and that man is an artist be he writer, painter, grave digger, bullfighter or bronc rider.”
              –William Crawford  (The Bronc Rider)

    “Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.”
              –Colossians 3:23 (NLT)
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I thought I would pass on some of the inspired words of Lois B. Cheney from her devotional, God Is No Fool.

         “One morning I awoke with a desire I wanted to fulfill.  It concerned a way I wanted to be.
          This was a matter to lay before God.  This was a matter for prayer.  The desire was for a power and goodness, and I wanted the prayer to be right.  I would preface my request with an acknowledgement of my unworthiness.  This wasn’t false; I knew it, and God would accept it.
          All day phrases and words came to me.  My special prayer took shape.  I would set aside a time.  I would approach him in truth.
          In the evening I closed myself away from others.  I read from his word.  I reviewed the phrases and words of my very special prayer.
          Before I got really settled down, I was flooded with the answer, and I was the way I wanted to be.
          But I felt cheated…I had wanted that moment of communication with God.  Then I thought I heard something.
                   ‘I heard you this morning.’
          I think I have a lot to learn about prayer.”

There are some people who have the knack of deep-felt prayer.  Their words can astound men and if they are from the heart they will get to the throne of God.  Read some of the prayers of Joseph Parker–they are amazing.  However, we need to be mindful of the Pharisee who went to prayer and before God, and man, he proclaimed he was so fair and wondrous.  Next to him, in humbleness stood one who prayed from the heart, “Forgive me, for I am a sinner.”  Hmmm, out of the mouth the heart speaks.

         “Ye ask and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts.”
                  –James 4:3 (KJV)

Echoes From the Campfire

It made him feel small and frightened, knowing that God’s power was infinite and beautiful, that He was truly working to provide for all of his creatures.”
–Bobby Cavazos (The Cowboy From the Wild Horse Desert)

“Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?”
–Matthew 6:26 (KJV)
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These are indeed perilous times. Don’t kid yourself by thinking things have always been this way. They haven’t. Sure, there have been terror and wars, but a person could walk down the street in this country in relative safety. Schools? Who would ever dare think someone would go into a school and start shooting children? These are perilous times!
Let’s look again at the first few characteristics of Paul’s description of “perilous times.”

“But understand this, that in the last days will come (set in) perilous times of great stress and trouble [hard to deal with and hard to bear]. 2 For people will be lovers of self and [utterly] self-centered, lovers of money and aroused by an inordinate [greedy] desire for wealth, proud and arrogant and contemptuous boasters. They will be abusive (blasphemous, scoffing), disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy and profane.”
–2 Timothy 3:1-2 (AMPC)

Now add verse 3: “[They will be] without natural [human] affection (callous and inhuman), relentless (admitting of no truce or appeasement); [they will be] slanderers (false accusers, troublemakers), intemperate and loose in morals and conduct, uncontrolled and fierce, haters of good.”

The characteristics of the time will show that there is a lack of devotion to their family; a lack of commitment. People may reside in the same house together, but they don’t share life together; there is an uncaring family environment. You want to know why there is so much shooting, killing, taking of drugs, and chaos in life then look to the family. Want to know why there is so much child rebellion and attention disorders then look to the family. Listen! It is imperative that we build our families to resist the spiritual storms that are characteristic of this age and the coming years!
Relentless or trucebreakers, false accusers, troublemakers are characteristic of the times. It is interesting that the Greek for “false accusers” is “diabolos” the same is often translated as “devil.” The are people who will go to court and argue to get material gain.
Look at the phrase “uncontrolled and fierce”. Who would that describe? A Hitler, Stalin? Add Idi Amin, Pol Pot, and Mao Zedong to those names and they don’t come close to being as savage, vicious, ferocious and inhumane, as the phrase actually means. The worst kind of savagery is the killing of an unborn infant in the womb. There have been more killed through abortion than all the evil of those mentioned above put together.
One more phrase, “haters of good.” This again goes to leadership. The courts are intended to protect the rights of those that are good, but now they protect the offenders. Abortion is one case in which the courts uphold those supposed rights. Criminals are now aggressively protected. Surely these are perilous times for these are days in which society is morally confused. It cannot be a confused, mentally unstable society that sets our moral agenda. We must! It is vital that we stand upon the Word of God in these perilous times.

The Saga of Miles Forrest

I was holding Molly after arriving home.  It was getting close to rush hour, so I wanted to get my hug in.  Then, Denton walked in the door, gun in his hand.
    “Forrest, I hate your guts!” he said leveling the gun.
    Quickly I swung Molly around.  I glanced at the Greener laying on the table–too far away.  There was no way I could draw my pistol in time.  Then I felt like someone pushed me and we fell to the floor with me on top of Molly to protect her.  At that same time I heard the shot.  I didn’t feel anything but heard the thunk in the wall.
    Now, I pulled my gun and turned.  As I did I saw Billy falling to the floor holding on to his face.  Behind him stood a grim-faced Charlie Gold.  His gun was out and he had cold-cocked Billy before he could get another shot off.
    “Miles!  Get off me!”  
    I had forgotten that we were on the floor, and there was a crowd beginning to form outside the Diner, partly for lunch and partly coming to see what the shooting was all about.  Rolling off Molly, I sat there musing.  Funny how people are.  They want to see action, but from a distance.  It’s okay if it is about someone else, just don’t let it touch them.  Then they’ll wander out to see the scene, and say “Oh my, someone should stop this evil,” not realizing they are part of it by hiding and watching.
    Molly was standing, trying to get herself together as she was a little embarrassed and customers were coming inside.  I was still sitting on the floor.  “Get up, Miles.  You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
    I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to where Charlie was bending over Denton.  He looked up at me and smiled.  “Thanks, Charlie,” I muttered.
    “Jensen, help me!” Charlie ordered to a man who had just sat down at a table.
    “Ah, get someone else, Sheriff.  I just set down to eat.”
    “Go ahead, Mike.  I’ll make sure you get a piece of pie, no charge,” I remarked.
    A brief smile crossed Jensen’s face as he got up to help Charlie.  He reached down and grabbed Billy’s legs to drag him out.
    “Jensen!” exclaimed Charlie.  “He ain’t dead.  Grab him by the shoulders.”
    The three of us lifted Billy up.  He didn’t weigh more than a bale of hay.  “I’ve got him,” said Jensen who threw Billy over his burly shoulders and walked out the door toward the jail.
    “Let me go tuck Billy in his cell and I’ll be back,” said Charlie.  “Oh, and you can get me a free piece of that pie when I return.”
    The commotion had died down.  Marta had come out to check to see if there was any blood on the floor that she needed to clean up.  Molly was already waiting on tables.  I intercepted her as she was heading back toward the kitchen.  “You okay?” I asked, worrying about her head.
    She nodded her head yes, and touched my arm.  “There had better be some pie in the kitchen; I promised Charlie and Mike Jensen a piece for helping us out.”
    “You men and your pie!” she exclaimed, then smiled sashaying into the kitchen.
    I grabbed one of the ceramic cups from the counter and went to pour some coffee before sitting down.  I started to take a sip and thought that with Billy Denton in jail maybe we could get some information about Billington.
    I was starting to relax and I had finished about half my cup when another thought struck me.  “Who pushed us to the floor?”