Echoes From the Campfire

Loneliness was necessary to gain consciousness of the soul.”
              –Zane Grey  (The Call of the Canyon)

    “After dismissing the crowds, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone.”
              –Matthew 14:23 (HCSB)
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There are strange things happening in the land.  Take a look at the following Scriptures and ponder them.

         “Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.”
                    –Amos 8:11 (KJV)

         “Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools….  And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient….”
                    –Romans 1:22, 28 (KJV)

         “And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie….”
                    –2 Thessalonian 2:11(KJV)                   

We are seeing the beginnings of this now coming to pass.  The Word of God is pushed aside and shunned.  Postmodernism has been very successful in undermining the truth.  Their purpose is deconstruction.  Deconstruct the government, the laws, morals, standards, values, even language.  The old saying, “it is what it is” is no longer valid, for it is not what it is, only what a person wants it to be.
    Here is a textbook definition of “postmodernism.”  
          “Postmodernism refers to an intellectual mood and an array of cultural expressions that call into question the ideals, principles, and values that lay at the heart of the modern mind-set.”
It really is hard to define, because that definition might be false – that is why it is referred to as a “mood” or “expression.”  One of its leaders, Richard Rorty says, “we should simply give up the search for truth and be content with interpretation.  Aim at continuing a conversation rather than at discovering truth.”  That’s where they have a hard time with Christians and the statement of Jesus, “I am the truth!”
    As stated, they have done a good job.  Look at the Millennials and those of Generation Z.  Almost postmodern to the core.  The belief of their leaders (i.e., Rorty, Derrida, Foucault) is to work on the younger generations and don’t worry about those of my generation, Boomers, as we are on the way to the grave and will soon no longer to be a threat.  Look at the words of this article by Angela Johnson.
           “People who are pansexual can be attracted to people who identify as male, female, androgynous, trangender, or intersex, taking it a step further than the traditional view of bisexuality.  Of course, sexuality varies from person to person, so these definitions are by no means set in stone–all that matters is what a person means when they claim that label.”  She goes on further to show a study by J. Walter Thompson Intelligence that 82% of Generation Z said “they did not care about a people’s sexual orientation, and 81% said they did not think gender defines a person as much as it used to.”
    Now go back and look at the Scriptures at the beginning.  Hmmmm.  By the way, Johnson said in her article that “Facebook alone offers nearly 60 gender options for users to choose from when assembling their profiles.”  I didn’t know that.  She asserts that “As we know, gender if fluid, and there are more genders out there than the typical binary we’re used to.”  Where, my mercy, will this take “us”?  Sorry friends, God created “male and female,” none other.
    Guard the truth!

Echoes From the Campfire

A mind, like a home, is furnished by its owner, so if one’s life is cold and bare he can blame none but himself.”
                 –Louis L’Amour  (Bendigo Shafter)

    “And if it seem evil unto you to serve the LORD, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell:  but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”
                 –Joshua 24:15 (KJV)
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Call this a POT-pourri of Thoughts, or maybe a Plethora of Ponderin’s, maybe even better yet Miniscule Musings.  Nothing real special today so here are a few things that have floated through my wearisome mind.
    November, great month.  It’s the beginning of the holiday season.  November 11 will start off with a great thanksgiving and gratitude to our veterans.  After that it rolls through the New Year.  All regard a thanksgiving attitude, but November is when we normally think of being thankful.  Now is the time to start counting your blessings, being thankful for them, and showing an attitude of gratefulness to those around you.  You never know what they are going through and you just might be that special light in their day.
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I mentioned a while back something of the life of evangelist Sam P. Jones.  I came across some of his sermons.  Here are a couple of great thoughts from one of them.

         [In regard to putting one’s light under a bushel].  “Sometimes it is the bushel of neglect.  Sometimes it is the bushel of willful transgression.  Sometimes it is the bushel of avarice.  And thee are a thousand bushels that will be furnished you at any time you want one to turn down over you light.  And at any moment, if you put a bushel over your light–if your light was burning and you have taken and turned a bushel and put over it–you will find your light is out.  And don’t be foolish enough to think that the man that removed the bushel put your light out.  It was the bushel turned down over it that put the light out.”

         “Good Lord, give us a strong, sinewy, muscular religion!  Not this little, effeminate, weak, sentimental, sickly, singing and begging sort!  My Lord God, give us a religion with vim and muscle and backbone and power and bravery!  A great many people think that Christianity is just a little hot-bed of effeminacy–fellows crying ‘Peace! Peace! Peace!”
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It used to be customary for good friends, almost like family, to come over on election night.  We would watch the returns and eat popcorn.  Sometimes if my cousin was living with us he would bring some fried chicken hearts and they would be placed on top the furnace for us to grab from time to time.  But it’s no longer fun.  A person can’t stand to listen to the pundits, that is the media-mouths.  Now, I just watch the returns.  
    A word of warning to Texans.  The urban brand is on the land.  Look at the map.  Texas is primarily rural, yet the control is coming from the large cities.  I don’t know if any have to run to the security shelters at the colleges.  I know if the election had gone with a “blue wave” conservatives wouldn’t have been happy, but they wouldn’t have shrieked and pulled their hair.  They would have gotten up this morning and gone on with their daily chores.  See, there’s more to this than politics!  Figure it out!

The Saga of Miles Forrest

The explosion brought everybody out and running for the jail.  I glanced to my right and saw Merker step out of the tobacco shop, and while standing on the first step, light up a newly purchased cigar.  I slowed down briefly to look at him and Marta almost knocked me down.
    “Miles!  Hurry, we have to help Charlie!” she screamed.
    Turning my attention back to the jail and seeing the smoke billowing upward I hastened my step.  Just as I was getting to the corner Charlie came running from the side street.
    “Stay back, stay back!” he was yelling.  “Miles, you have to help me keep everyone away.  I moved Douster from the jail a while ago.  No one was in the jail, but I don’t want folk to know that.  I think he’ll talk now.  We just have to keep everyone away.”
    Charlie and I began to move people back from the jail.  Telling them that we needed to sort through the rubble, that there was a man in the jail at the time.  Marta found Charlie and was hugging him.  He had to push her away, and I could see she didn’t like that.  We had to make this look real.  I noticed him whispering something to her.
    “Molly,” I yelled through the noise of the crowd.  “As soon as you see Doc Jones send him to us.”
    Shouldn’t we seeing if that man is dead?” asked Wilson Foster as he came upon the scene.  
    “We’ve already found the body,” replied Charlie.  “Too gruesome, that’s why we’re waiting for Doc and Parker.
    “I’ll help,” he insisted.
    Grabbing him by the arm, I said as sincerely as possible, “Mister Foster, you really don’t want to look at the body.”  I got along with Foster alright, but he could be easily swayed.
    “What in the world happened here?” questioned Doc as he arrived on the scene.
    “I think that clear to see, Doc, there’s been an explosion,” replied Charlie.
    “Well, I can see that.  Was anyone in the jail?”
    “One prisoner, we’re waiting for Parker, the undertaker now.”
    It was hard to spot Paul Parker, as he was a small man.  He went about whatever he did in a very methodic manner, never hurrying, nor was he ever to be hurried.  He also made furniture, some of the finest I’ve seen out of Denver, but don’t rush him.  I wasn’t sure about how he would react to Charlie’s ruse over the body.  I reckoned he would go along with it, but didn’t know if he could keep him mouth shut, but then again he might be good at it, for I’ve hardly ever heard him say more than “hmmm.”
    The commotion was beginning to calm down.  Charlie had Foster, Newsome, and a couple of miners that always eat at the diner help keep people back away from the rubble.  Parker had sent for his litter while Molly and Marta went around assuring everyone that things were okay and to stay out of the way.  They were inviting people down to the diner for free coffee.
    As we waited for the litter Doc and Parker worked on a bundle that could, if a person would use their imagination, be a man.  We stuck an old boot on a broom stick, then tossed the other boot on top of the bundle to give the impression that it was completely blown off his foot, or maybe the foot was still in the boot.
    Undertaker Parker went out to get the litter and we put the form on it and covered it with a blanket.  Now to make sure we looked as if we were carrying something heavy over to his office.  People were still there and some wanted to help.  I grabbed one end and Doc the other as Charlie thanked those around and kept them from coming too close.  Sometimes a man’s curiosity can be a dangerous thing.
    I hadn’t had the time to ask Charlie where he had stashed Douster, but we were both fairly certain that he would give evidence as to who hung Curt in his cell.
    We had just made it to the morturary, simple as it was, a reinforced dugout on the hillside behind Parker’s furniture store.  I don’t know if it was first the start of a mine, but Parker had conformed it into an undertaker’s work room.  I glanced behind me just before going in to see if anyone was following us and saw Molly scurrying my way.
    I helped take the body on in, came out and met Molly.  “Miles, hurry, come with me.”
    We moved off back toward the diner.  I saw people milling around outside, not wanting to go in.  Marta and Anihu were inside as they had promised coffee to anyone.  Molly and I moved through the crowd.
    People were asking, “Is it safe?” and murmuring amongst each other.
    Walking inside, Molly stopped and pointed to writing on the wall, “Will you be next?”

Coffee Percs

As he poured boiling water through the coffee grounds, the aroma that reached his nostrils was indescribably delicious.”
              –Tony Hillerman (Coyote Waits)

Was hopin’ yuh be showin’ up soon.  I got to ponderin’, time changes things.  Now don’t go gettin’ philosophical on me, I was just meanin’ that tomorrow the clocks go back an hour.  Time’s gonna change.
    I’m not gonna hold my breath come next Tuesday either.  Yuh know, I just don’t understand people.  In fact, I’m understanding them less and less.  Given the facts, I convinced that many want to be blind to the facts, or simply don’t care about them.  I remember what the natives said about bureaucrats–they speak with forked tongue.  Politicians have always displayed lies and deception, but now there is a real hatred as well along with a double standard.  Yuh better be knowin’ which side yur standin’ on!  That’s a fact!
    How’s that coffee this mornin’?  At least some things stay close to the same.  This world we live in is definitely becoming more and more bizarre.  I was thinkin’ that the heavenly horses are beginnin’ to strain some at the bit.  It’s about time for that trumpet to sound.  No matter what anyone says, right will never be wrong, and right will always be right.  People are now despisin’ the truth, but it is the truth that sets us free.  Pard, you hand on tight to that truth!  Don’t be a waverin’ none and watch out for that “fake news.”
    Yuh come by again next week; I’ll have the coffee on.  In the meantime check yur cinch.