He got up and walked slowly between us and threw the little bit of coffee he had left onto the fire, where it made a brief, sizzling sound.”
–Clair Huffaker (The Cowboy and the Cossack)
Mornin’ to yuh, Pard. ‘Nother week is past and gone. Just where does time go? Yuh have a day, and poof, before yuh knows it, it’s mornin’ of the next day and what did yuh get done? I’m beginnin’ to understand a little of what ol’ King Solomon was writin’ about in Ecclesiastes. One day, before yuh know it, yur jist like that there sizzle in the fire of the last few drops of coffee that was left in the cup. Pard, we got to make the days count, for the Lord is comin’ soon, and the days are evil.
I was seein’ that I wasn’t welcome to go spend my money in San Francisco any longer. Yep, they done declared me a terrorist at large. Ain’t that a kicker? We are sure a-seein’ and livin’ in a world like never before. The Lord said it would wax worse and worse until He returned. Why there is even a person runnin’ for President of these here United States that says a way to curb the population growth is for there to be more abortions. My mercy! Yes, we sure are in a sorry state.
When yuh look at all the craziness it almost makes the coffee taste bad. No, it wasn’t my brewin’ it’s the state of affairs. Hmmm, I noticed it didn’t affect yur gizzard, none, yuh drank yur cup down to the last swaller. I’ll get yuh a refill and we can get on with our chat.
My, it’s hot and dry here. A storm will come up and jist slide around this place. In the spring the lake was full and the water was spillin’ over the top. Now, they’re only allowin’ a trickle to come out. That jist shows to go yuh, what I was a-talkin’ about. Here today–gone tomorrow. Poof, the hour is gone. Jist like our time this mornin’. Sorry, Pard, but it’s time for yuh to be gettin’ on down the trail. We’ve done drank us a pot of coffee, and if’n yuh don’t get to movin’ yuh won’t get the chores of today done. Where has our time gone this mornin’? That’s a good reason to be doin’ for the Lord, and checkin’ that cinch. With time flyin’ the way it is, yuh jist might forget.
Be seein’ yuh, and maybe next week I’ll perk yuh up. Yuh be travelin’ with the Lord now–He’s our hope.
Month: September 2019
Echoes From the Campfire
Some rivers run deep and some shallow and it takes a trained eye to look beyond the surface and see the depth.”
–Cliff Hudgins (Viejo and the Ranger)
“Your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.”
–1 Corinthians 2:5 (KJV)
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The storms of life, trouble and trials, obstacles along the journey do come at time to help us build our character, but more often they come to confirm the quality of our character. A person with a weak character may crumble when those trials come. On the surface, just being with them from day to day, you might think they have got it all together, but then, wham! they fall apart. I remember a situation I had with a teacher once. All year long she had been telling her class that all they had to do was trust in the Lord and that He would always be with them. Then a crisis came to her, and she crumbled. She moaned and cried–I finally had to send her home. I told her that she destroyed in a few minutes what she had been teaching all year. Where was her trust?
Character is built for a purpose, and crisis comes to test its endurance! Character is not a showy thing, in fact the depth of character might be hidden until a storm begins to rage, or when a task must be undertaken.
“Great things are done when men and mountains meet:
This is not done by jostling in the street.”
–William Blake
Sometimes you can look at a person and quickly see their weakness–they run swallow. Others are whiners, cry-babies, creampuffs, or to be more modern, snowflakes. Look at them wrong and they melt and go into panic mode. One thing for sure, if there isn’t character within when the storms rage, when the trials come, there might be a breaking.
John Huss was facing the prospect of being burned as a heretic (how about that for toleration and political correctness?). He was tried before the Council of Constance where he declared on July 1, 1415: “I, John Huss, trusting to be a priest of Jesus Christ–for fear that I would offend God giving a testimony under oath–cannot recant the articles of faith which false witnesses attribute to me, for I did not preach, assert, or defend them. I must not recant all my statements, for this cannot be done without offending God and infringing upon the sacred authorities.”
One hundred years later, another stalwart man made a similar statement at the Diet of Worms on April 18, 1521. Martin Luther declared in his own defense: “Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God.”
“In extreme crisis we do not necessarily test our faith. Our faith is expressed spontaneously from decisions previously made. This is what realistically sustains and strengthens us for service to our God and nation.” (Reuben V. Johnson) We need to be firm as those giants of faith from the past. We need to set our faces like flint so that we “may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” (Ephesians 6:13 NKJV)
To stand–shows character! To stand–shows faith! For it is written, “But he who endures to the end shall be saved.” (Matthew 24:13 – NKJV)
Echoes From the Campfire
Failure was never permanent unless a man deliberately made it so, that disaster was something to meet and forget and walk away from.”
–Ernest Haycox (Canyon Passage)
“But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail; and when you have returned to Me, strengthen your brethren.”
–Luke 22:32 (NKJV)
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I came across something in my morning readings that I wanted to pass on for you to ponder. It was from one of the early church hermits. Now, this is not to argue, agree or disagree, on the life of the hermit, whether it was right or wrong. Surely the motive was right, to be alone with Christ and separate from the world. They may have missed the mark by not being more evangelistic, but they were sincere individuals.
“Someone asked a hermit how he could avoid being shocked when he saw monks returning to the world. He said, ‘Think of hounds chasing a rabbit. One dog sees the rabbit and begins the chase, the rest of the pack simply see and hear a hound running. They will join the lead dog for a while, but soon tire and return the way they came. Only the first hound continues the chase until he overtakes the rabbit. The desertion of his companions does not discourage him. Thickets, briars, and cliffs will not turn him aside. Scratched and wounded, he continues to chase the rabbit. So it is with anyone who runs after the Lord Jesus. We keep our eyes on the cross, leaping over every obstacle until we come to him.'” (Bernard Bangley, “By Way of the Desert”)
There is a key word in the first sentence, that is the word “shocked.” It does not say grieved, or sorrowful. We should be grieved when a person deliberately walks away from the Lord, but it really shouldn’t shock us. Jesus said that we should count the cost. Many will find the cost too great, or at least in world terms. Some will be choked by the cares of the world.
The person that comes to my mind is Demas. Paul writes in Colossians that Luke and Demas sent their greetings. It seems that Demas was, at least for a time, a traveling companion of Paul. However, when Paul writes to Timothy, he pens these words, “For Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world, and has departed…” (2 Timothy 4:10) Another version puts it this way, “Demas has deserted me because he has loved the things of this life…” (NLT)
To be in love with the world, and the things of the world is to turn away from Christ. The hardship and sufferings, and there are various kinds of each, become too much for them. They do not have the vision of heaven nor the person of Christ etched in their heart. But the true believer, no matter his physical condition, no matter the obstacles in the road, will not turn back.
The Saga of Miles Forrest
What did the letter say?” asked Doc Jones as he sipped his coffee then forked a piece of apricot pie.
Looking up at him I followed up with a question of my own. “Snoopin’ Doc?”
He looked surprised and a little hurt. “Just saw the envelope sitting there. I didn’t mean to rile your feathers.”
I reckoned he thought I was serious. “Just joshin’ you, Doc. The letter is from Marshal Blasco over in Denver,” I replied reaching for my cup as I had already eaten my pie.
Molly was coming out of the kitchen and she came over to the table and joined us. Being the gentleman I am, I got up to get her a cup of coffee and set it down in front of her.
“What did the letter say?” she asked. That brought a snicker from Doc to which Molly said, “What? Did I say something funny? Flour in my hair, or a smudge on my cheek. What?” she was busy now putting her fingers through her hair, and wiping at her face.
“You’re fine, dear,” I said. “Doc, just seconds ago asked the same question. The letter is from Jeb Blasco.”
She calmed herself, then asked, “Well, what did he have to say?”
I picked up the envelope and pulled out the letter. “He asked how we were all doin’, wished you his best. Then he gave me some information about Sam Fooy. He said that unless Fooy changes his method of operation we probably wouldn’t hear anything from him until next summer. He normally makes a couple of strikes then goes quiet through the winter,” I said, then paused. “He made quite a haul with the bank here and the payroll robbery. Jeb says he is probably in Denver, or maybe even Kansas City or as far away as San Francisco.”
“Then we don’t have to worry about him?” she questioned.
“Probably not,” I said taking another swallow of coffee. “I wonder who shot Wade? Fooy has been careful not to kill anyone, but that changed with the robbery.” I looked at my cup and it was empty so I got to my feet, went to the stove and poured another cup. Turning around I saw Doc with his hand out holding his cup.
“Need to wash down that mighty fine pie,” he said with a smile then nodded at Molly.
Sitting back down I took a long swallow. “Jeb doesn’t say what the rest of his gang does. It takes a special kind of outlaw to do what Fooy does. Most spend their money, gamble or drink it away. ‘Course most don’t make a haul like Fooy has just done.”
Molly was playing with her cup with both hands, turning it one way then the other. Looking up at me she offered, “You’re concerned about the Lamb brothers.”
I nodded. “They broke away from Fooy after the robbery at Silverton and were on the road toward Durango. I just don’t see men like that holdin’ up in a cabin to sit out the winter, and Durango is the only town on the road south.”
“Maybe just pass on through to Taos or Santa Fe,” offered Doc.
“Maybe,” I responded, though in my mind I doubted it. “We’ll just take one day at a time, that’s all the good Lord has given us anyway.”
Just a few miles north, in a small cabin near the little community of Hermosa two men were arguing. “John, it just doesn’t make sense to go back into Durango. People there know our faces,” argued James Lamb.
“There’s only a half dozen that got a good look at us,” he retorted. Plus, I’ve got a real hankering to see that waitress again.”
That brought a smile from his brother. “She was right shapely, and firm of body.”
A chuckle frescaped from John. “We’ll wait a few days then ride in.”
“No use having all this money without spending it…”