Echoes From the Campfire

Two hours wasted is two hours gone forever.”
                    –Elmer Kelton  (The Good Old Boys)

       “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door, but climbs up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.”

                    –John 10:1 (NKJV)
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I wrote a while back about the importance of punctuality.  That a person who is not punctual is actually stealing.  They’re stealing from their employer’s time, and from their responsibilities along with the fact that they are building a negative aspect to their reputation.  My ballplayers always knew that if they were not on time the bus would not wait for them.
      “You shall not steal.” (Exodus 20:15)  When we look at the face of the statement, we say sure, that’s easy.  “Don’t rob banks, or take something that does not belong to you.”  But Begg sheds a brighter light on the commandment.  He says that the commandment implies two biblical principles (and progressive socialists take note).  First it implies the right to private property.  Second, it implies the sovereign ownership of God over all He has made.  “God owns all things, and He grants temporary stewardship to us.  So to steal something from someone is an offense against God as the ultimate owner and against the person who is stewarding it.” (Alistair Begg)  You might scoff, but in reality that is true–you’ve never seen a hearse pulling a u-haul.  No matter how hard a man works for wealth and possessions here, he can’t take it with him into eternity.
       Are you a thief?  Did you ever snitch from the cookie jar?  When Annie makes biscuits or cookies, my mercy it’s hard to keep from snatching one up.  That can’t be borrowing, ’cause you can’t give it back once it’s down in the gullet past those taste buds.  Oh, it’s only stealing if you get caught?  Let’s look deeper into what stealing really is.

          –blatant theft
          –borrowing something we fail to return
          –keeping dishonest records
          –misusing our employer’s time
          –paying unjust wages, withholding wages, or delaying wages
          –slandering others, thereby stealing their reputation
          –sinning sexually with another, thereby stealing their moral purity
          –plagiarizing, thereby stealing someone else’s work
          –cheating in the classroom
          –failing to give God what we owe Him (Begg)

One of the biggest problems I had in the later years of my teaching was that of plagiarism.  Some students were downright blatant, others tried to be sneaky.  I don’t know which is worse–the blatant thief, or the sneak-thief.
       Why do people steal?  Oh, there could be myriad reasons, but the simple reason is that it is caused by sin.  Coveting, greed, laziness, slothfulness, addictions, plus all of the excuses that people have.  Some want to take a short-cut to wealth believing that the end justifies the means.  Years ago I remember the story of a group of longshoremen on the east coast.  I don’t remember the city, but there was a revival that broke out and it moved out onto the docks.  Men were saved by the droves and within weeks, tools that had “disappeared” were returned to the tool shed.  In fact, they ended up with more tools than were actually on the inventory.  
       Paul writes, “Let him who stole steal no longer, but rather let him labor, working with his hands what is good, that he may have something to give him who has need.” (Ephesians 4:28, NKJV)  Don’t shirk in your work.  Don’t do less quality work.  To not do your best is cheating yourself, your employer, and God.  Make the most of the time given you–in other words, don’t steal time.  That is one thing you cannot give back in restitution.
       I remember a missionary from years ago while we were attending Evangel Bible Church in Colorado Springs spoke about robbing God.  In the country where he ministered at the communion service a pastor would place individuals in a certain part of the sanctuary and not allow them to partake of the communion.  He said the reason was that they were robbing God by not paying their tithes.  He said they were already cursed, and didn’t want to make it worse by taking of the elements unworthily.  Hmm, what would happen in churches if that were practiced today?  But there is a stern warning in Malachi, “‘Will a man rob God?’  Yet you have robbed Me!  But you say, ‘In what way have we robbed You?’  In tithes and offerings.  You are cursed with a curse, for you have robbed Me, even this whole nation.'”  (Malachi 3:8-9, NKJV)  To take it a step further, many rob God by not using the talents, time, and skills given to them by God for the Kingdom.  Be careful of the sin of Ananias and Sapphira.

               “All to Jesus I surrender,
               All to Him I freely give;
               I will ever love and trust Him,
               In His service daily live.”
                       –J.W. VanDeVenter

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

Clem Donor is in jail, his brother Lige is on the loose with Sheriff Charlie Gold on his trail.  That is, until the Sheriff had a run in with another man in the cabin where he thought Lige was held up.  Back in Doc Jones’ office lay Fred Dover, unconscious after passing out trying to escape.  Now, let’s go back to another exciting episode in those adventurous days of yesteryear.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
       “Doc!  Doc Jones!” hollered the voice from the outer office.
       The preacher and I were in the room with Fred Dover when we heard the door burst open and the commotion in the outer office.  I jerked my pistol and hurried out with Parson Chapman on my heels.
       I was surprised to see Charlie standing in the room holding a lad in his arms.  “Charlie!” I exclaimed, holstering my gun.  Taking in the situation I moved to the table where Doc did his surgeries.  “Put him here.”
       When Charlie laid the kid down, I noticed the blood on his shirt, then saw the tourniquet on the young man’s leg.  “Where’s Doc Jones?” he asked, exhausted.  For the last few miles he had held the man on his horse in front of him.  “Kid’s name is Pea Wheatly,” he informed us, pausing before continuing.  “I thought he was Lige.”
       The preacher came over and began to pray, while I rushed out the door to find Doc.  “Stay here,” I ordered.  “I’ll get the Doc and be right back.”
       I thought Doc might be over to the diner, so I went there first.  Sure enough, there he was with Mateo, drinking coffee.  “Doc, Charlie’s brought a man in and he’s in bad shape.  You need to hurry.”
       He placed his cup down with a thud on the table, then hurried out, Mateo following right behind him.  I lingered and went over to speak to Molly.  “What’s wrong, Miles?  You seem concerned,” she inquired.
       “Charlie shot a man he thought was Lige Donor.  A man, I should say he’s little more than a kid.  I haven’t heard the whole story yet, but Charlie seems quite upset.”
       “Should I go get Marta?” she asked.
       “Not now, let’s see what happens.  I want to hear the story, then you can decide if you want to see her or not.”
       I trudged back over to Doc’s office.  Upon entering Doc was pulling off the lad’s pants, with Edith hovering over the kid, cleaning off the wound with water that she always kept hot on the stove.  The lad was pale, almost white as milk.  When his boots and pants were removed, Doc looked at the wound, then began to loosen the tourniquet.
       “How long has this been on?” he asked, turning to look at Charlie.
       Charlie rubbed his whiskered chin.  “Not sure, three, three and a half hours.  We rode hard from the cabin.”
       I had noticed that Charlie’s horse was all lathered up.  He needed a rest and a good rubdown.  As soon as I had the story I’d take him over to Moses’ livery.  
       Doc pulled at his ear, then scratched the side of his head.  Looking at Edith he had a grim look on his face.  “I don’t know,” he muttered, then rubbed down his chin a couple of times.  “The tourniquet may have saved his life, but I’m not sure I can save his leg.  Not sure if he’ll live anyway.  The surgery might kill him; plus he’s lost a lot of blood already.  I just don’t know.”
       Rev. Chapman was there and looked up.  “What happens if you just try to remove the bullet?”
       Doc gave a great heave of a sigh.  “That’s what I’ll try first.  If he survives that I’ll let him rest a day or two, then decide on the leg.  If gangrene hasn’t set in I might be able to save it.”  He looked over at Charlie.  “You did right.  He’d bled out if you hadn’t stop the bleeding.  But the tourniquet stopped all the blood flow to his leg.”  Doc sighed again.  “Right now, I just don’t know.”
       I could tell Charlie was distraught.  “I wouldn’t have shot,” he said, explaining to no one in particular.  “He pulled his gun and fired at me.  I then shot at him, hitting him.  He crawled through the doorway of the cabin, hollering something like, ‘I didn’t kill the old man.'”
       Charlie went over to stand by the window.  “If he hadn’t shot at me.””
       I went to stand beside him.  “But that’s the answer, he did.  You can’t be blamed for shooting back.”
       “He’s just a little older than Lucas,” Charlie said, turning toward me with tears in his eyes.
       “Sheriff, sit down,” came the voice of the Parson.  “We don’t know the number of our days, nor do we know how our end will come.  Rest in the solitude of the Lord.  Let the Doc do his work.”  He took Charlie by his arm and led him to a chair near the desk away from where Doc was preparing to remove the bullet.
       Doc looked at his wife, who gave him a nod indicating that she was ready and that there was plenty of water and cloths.   “Dale, could I get you to hold his shoulders just in case he moves.  He’s out now, but when I go to probing for the bullet he might come out of it.”
       I started for the door.  “I’ll take care of your horse.”  I’d just picked up the reins to lead him to Vexler’s livery when shots were fired.
       Mateo hollered, “The jail!”  Then took off running.  I had forgotten that Mateo was with me, but when he started running toward the jail I followed…

 

Echoes From the Campfire

We were men with sorrows behind us, and battles too; men with regrets behind us of which we did not speak, nor too often think. We’ve none to share our sorrows or regrets, we kept them to ourselves, and our faces were impassive. Men with no one to share their feelings learn to conceal those feelings. We often spoke lightly of things which we took very seriously indeed.  We were sentimental men, but that was our secret, for an enemy who knows your feelings is an enemy who has a hold on you.”
                    –Louis L’Amour  (The Lonely Men)

       “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

                    –Romans 8:18 (NKJV)
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I’m not sure how it is now, but when I was serving in the military one of our most prized possessions was our shot records.  To lose those, oh my, the agony.  They were as vital to our well-being as our financial records.  I never had trouble taking shots, in fact, in basic training they used the “gun.”  I liked it; it was easy, and quick.  Then from that point on, especially if you were going to another country, a third-world country, you would have to take certain shots.  The purpose–protection.  With that in mind, let’s look at the next part of Psalm 91.

          7 — A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near you.
          8 — Only with your eyes shall you look, and see the reward of the wicked.
          9 — Because you have made the LORD, who is my refuge, even the Most High, your dwelling place,
        10 — No evil shall befall you, nor shall any plague come near your dwelling.  (NKJV)

       “Wait a minute?”  I hear you cry.  John the Baptist lost his head; Stephen was stoned to death; James was killed with the sword, and I had loved ones die with COVID.  Yes, yes, that may be true, however, nothing destroyed their relationship with God, and should not have destroyed yours if you lost someone close and dear.  
       Normally we think of verse 7 as a physical battle, but think of it.  How many did you see fall during the “pandemic”?  Perhaps, a different sort of thought, how many did you see lose their faith, faltering and quivering with fear?  Open your eyes, isn’t that a deeper danger?  Should we not realize that our relationship (there’s that word again) is with the Lord?  We should be living in Him; He is our refuge and dwelling place (verses 1-2),  No matter what storm, battle, disease, pestilence, that may be around you, the Lord is there to protect you–the real, deeper you.
       This psalm doesn’t mean “we will be immune to all disease or danger, but we do know that the Lord will keep us safe from eternal harm.” (William Petersen).   Remember, nothing can touch God’s people unless God allows it.  Let me give you a word of warning:  do not use God’s word flippantly.  For example, the other day a person replied to the concern of another during a storm that occured, “we’re fine, we’re covered with the blood.”  There is something missing here.  This is not a statement of faith, but one of not understanding the Scriptures, not realizing reality.  The rain falls on the just and the unjust.  Derek Kidner wrote, “Verse 10 is a statement of providence, not a charm against adversity.”  Read the Epistles of the New Testament, and the words of Jesus.  There is adversity for the believer; there is suffering, but there is security in the knowledge that the Lord will not forsake His people.

               “What I have to dread, what have I to fear,
               Leaning on the everlasting arms?
               I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,
               Leaning on the everlasting arms.”
                       –Elisha A. Hoffman

 

Coffee Percs

He nodded toward the coffee pot. ‘You know where it’s at.’ The coffee was hot and dark, sparking new life into his soul.”

                    –Cliff Hudgins  (Viejo and the Hunted Ranger)
 
Step in this kitchen, I’ve some “Black Gold” a-brewin’.  Been waitin’ for yuh so as to take the first sip.  Ahhh, sure does make the ol’ gizzard jump for joy.  I’m a-tellin’ yuh, Pard, it just revives the soul, an’ almost tickles a body pink tastin’ that mornin’ brew.
       Speakin’ of revivin’, I’m sure yuh’ve read of Asbury and the revival takin’ place there.  Yuh know, that’s not too far from one of the largest revivals in American history took place.  Yep, down at Cane Ridge; it was part of the Second Great Awakenin’.  See yuh come for coffee, an’ got a free history lesson a throw’d in.  But I reckon its a real sure revival.  But yuh know, to muh way of thinkin’ revival may be of different sorts.  It’s a way that the Holy Spirit goes to stirrin’ people up, whether individual or a group.
       Revival, or a wonderful refreshin’ that causes people to seek the Lord.  See, I’m a-thinkin’ that a person should always be revivin’ themselves.  For example, when partakin’ of the Lord’s communion table, a body should be checkin’ his ownself–takin’ inventory of his life and if need be revivin’ it to the place where it ought to be.  Pard, and yuh listen, this ol’ fence post commences to think that we should continually be refreshed, sorta like havin’ an spiritual artesian well flowin’ up inside, a bubblin’ and gurglin’ all the time.  But that’s jist me a thinkin’.  Now, Pard, don’t get me wrong, I know that there are corporate revivals, why I’ve been to several in my span of years.  There are also those magnificent national revivals, some lasting only a short time while the influence of others a generation or more.  Ol’ Jonah preached, the king heard, and the city of Nineveh went into revival.  Cayn’t yuh just imagine ol’ Joe a kneelin’ and prayin’ for that to happen in that grand city on the Potomac?
       Go ahead, don’t mind me, sure go on, pour yurself another cup.  Now, the revival in Asbury–is it an awakenin’?  I don’t rightly know Pard.  Yuh see, an awakenin’ is something that changes society, that brings back godly morals and values.  We won’t know the effect of the revivals happenin’ for years to come.  Will they awaken America?  Oh, Lord, that they will–let him who has ears hear, as the Bible says.
       Maybe Pard, jist maybe that these here revivals springin’ up is a warnin’ call to America.  Jist like Jonah preached to Nineveh, “wake up, judgment is comin’!”  Will we heed?  Or perhaps, it is part of that last great call before the trumpet sounds.  Hmmm, come to think of it, I thought I heard the sound of horses bein’ gathered up there in the heavenlies.  But here’s the bottom line, an’ yuh be a-listenin’.  The important thing is whether or not yur heart is revived–refreshed.  It should be on-goin’ jist like yuh checkin’ yur cinch before yuh mount.
        Vaya con Dios.