Echoes From the Campfire

The family supper was more than a time and place to sit and eat. For some families it’s a shared experience involving all the senses. A time of fellowship and bonding.”
                    –Dan Arnold  (Gunman at Large)

       “See, O Lord, that I am in distress; My soul is troubled; My heart is overturned within me, For I have been very rebellious. Outside the sword bereaves, At home it is like death.”

                    –Lamentations 1:20(NKJV)
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Possibly the Scriptures that have been preached the most are from Luke 15:11-32.  It has been labeled the Story of the Prodigal Son, but I prefer the title that William Barclay gives it because the son is not the hero in this story; it should be titled, The Story of the Loving Father.  The NKJV Study Bible calls it the Parable of the Lost Son, depicting the truth of the situation.
       I do not want to be redundant with all of the preaching and teaching of these verses, but want to consider just a couple of things.  For the most part, I believe that God often allows man’s sin to judge himself.  For example, the drug addict will most likely die from an overdose, or organ failure because of drugs, or from disease resulting from the taking of drugs.  Their sin led to their demise.  Now, I do not believe that this is an absolute fact, but there is much truth in it.
       In the parable the son is rebellious; he wants his own selfish way, and he gets it.  He is given his inheritance, he goes off to a distant land and “there squandered his wealth in wild living” (15:13, NIV).  Barclay translates it “wanton recklessness.”  His folly finally leads him to spending all that he had that when “trouble” (a famine) arose he had no money to live on and “began to be in want” (Barclay).  His foolishness, his sin, had led him astray and he was in dire straits.
       To survive he was given the task of feeding pigs, a task that was forbidden to a Jew.  He was hungry, no one would feed him, and he looked longingly at the food he fed the pigs.  His sin had driven him to the pig pen, the slop and uncleanness of the pig sty became his life, and in his despair he thought of home.   Then a spark of light comes to him, Barclay and the NKJV translate verse 17, “when he came to himself,” while the NIV puts it this way, “when he came to his senses.”
       This prodigal, this wayward, sinful man, came to himself.  It was not that he was a sinner that brought him to himself, but the motivation was hunger.  I don’t think he was repentant at this time, he was just hungry and thought of the food that his father provided for his servants.  It drove him home.  Yes, there is much more to the story, the rejoicing and acceptance of the father, the son being given a position in the household again, the bitterness of the older son, but think of what would have happened if he had not come to his senses.
       His sin had driven him to the slop of the sty.  However, he came to his sins.  He was being judged by his foolishness, his sin, his rebellion, and he did not even realize it.  That is the shame of those whom God might be chastising.  They do not even realize what is taking place.  Instead of coming to their senses they stay in their wicked lifestyles, they make excuses, they do not look homeward to the Father.  Over the years I have witnessed this take place.  A wrongful wedding with an unbeliever, the straying from church, a divorce, a deadbeat dad, and all the while God is chastising and telling them to come to their senses.  Alas, and to their shame and detriment, many often continue on the downward spiral and do not see the hand of God working.   Come to your senses, and come on home, the Father beckons, yet many, oh too many reply, I’d rather live in the slop with the pigs.

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

This series was put on hold for a couple of weeks, so let’s go back to where we left Miles.  He had just arrested the crooked city marshal of Silverton, Todd Johnson, and had placed him in his own jail.  Miles had moved off into a darkened corner away from the office desk and was waiting for the night to pass when shots were fired blasting out the windows, the glass falling on the desk where he might have been sitting.  Let’s return to the action in another exciting adventure in the Saga of Miles Forrest.
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       I had expected something of this nature to happen, but even if one is prepared for it, shots do tend to get one’s attention.  I waited, lifting the barrel of the Greener toward the door.  It was silent, then the door crashed open.  I still waited.  One man came through, then another, and I could see a third coming.  It was time to unload both barrels.  There were screams, a thud, some yelling and two men hurried to get back outside.  I quickly pulled my pistol, fired three shots at the entrance, then quickly reloaded the shotgun and my pistol in the lull.
       Another man was down, and possibly one more hurt bad enough that he wouldn’t cause any problems.  That buckshot may have even twinged the third man in the doorway.  I had lost count of how many deputies Johnson now had, but it had to be only a handful.  They would be more careful about showing themselves or doing anything rash.
       I didn’t move for at least thirty minutes, waiting to see if they would try anything else.  I also wanted Johnson to be on edge.  He would be wondering what had happened and since the door to the cell room hadn’t opened I’d let him think the worst.  Finally I did move, but it was up to the front corner.  I would be protected from shots coming in from either window or the entrance.
       Sitting on a chair in the front corner I could see the figure of the man lying on the floor.  Shame.  Why do some men go to the bad this way?  I’ve heard all the reasons, but really none of them make sense.  The devil sure gets his claws on some of them, lying and deceiving them into thinking that evil is the best, quickest, and easiest way to get ahead, but all it really does is hasten their appearance before their Maker.
       It must have been around five o’clock when I heard someone holler.  “Marshal!”  I didn’t answer.  I didn’t want them to know my location.  Besides, were they hollering for me or their boss?  Again, I heard, “Marshal!” louder this time.
       The sounds of footsteps on broken glass caught my attention.  No matter how quiet they were trying to be, I couldn’t help but hear them, and it helped that I had moved closer to the outside wall.  “Marshal Johnson,” came the voice again, quieter this time.  Then a holler, “Hunker down!”
       Two men came in, I fired the Greener again, and heard one man holler, “No!”  It was then I saw the stick of dynamite in his hand as he was falling.  I moved toward the wall, pulling the desk that was there over on top of me.  It wasn’t light when it fell on me, but I figured that was all the chance I had.  Seconds later, the stick of dynamite exploded.  If the shotgun blast hadn’t taken care of them, that explosion certainly would have.  
       Two left, three?  Maybe there were more, but one thing for sure was that explosion would wake the town people.  They were used to hearing dynamite going off up in the camps and around the mines, but not down on a main street.  
       I was trying to pull myself out from under the desk when I heard a voice, “My land, this place is a disaster.  Lloyd, go for the doctor, I see bodies lying about.”
       From my prone position all I could see were the legs of men coming to view the scene.  I let the man go for the doctor, then spoke up.  “Everybody hold still.  I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Miles Forrest, and any sudden move might make me jerk my finger and you’d be joinin’ those on the floor.”
       “Sure Marshal,” came the voice.  “What in the world happened?”
       “Get out of the way!” hollered a man whose voice I recognized.  “Miles, are you in there?”
       Morgan Appleby.
       “Morgan, clear those people out of the office and make way for the doctor.”
       “Where are you, Miles?”
       “I’ll show myself after the office is clear.  I have Johnson in a cell in the back.”
       Slowly the men began to move out of the office, but I knew they were hanging around on the boardwalk and in the street outside the jail.  Holding on to the back of the desk, I pulled myself up.  The concussion from the blast had made me some dizzy and there were some bruises and cuts I didn’t know I had.  I felt the hand of Morgan grasp my arm, holding me steady.
       “When the doc shows up, I need to have these men identified, and also see if Johnson has any more deputies.”  
       Morgan helped me move over to my original position to the chair in the back corner.  He looked at the office and began to shake his head, when…

 

Echoes From the Campfire

Once a man has lived with mountains you can’t offer him a home with a prairie dog.”
                    –Louis L’Amour  (Treasure Mountain)

       “You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

                    –Psalm 16:11 (NKJV)
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It’s been a few days since we left Psalm 104.  Read over it again before looking into this final portion of it.  William Barclay has said regarding Psalm 104, “This psalm never loses sight of the sheer majesty and holiness of God, and at the same time sees that God is in the world which he has made.”  Yes, we have problems, troubles, and woes as we travel through this life, but, oh the wonder of it all–God is in control of our lives until our last breath.

          24 — O LORD, how manifold are Your works!  In wisdom You have made them all.  The earth is full of Your possessions–
          25 — This great and wide sea, in which are innumerable teeming things, living things both small and great.
          26 — There the ships sail about; there is that Leviathan which You have made to play there.
          27 — These all wait for You, that You may give them their food in due season.
          28 — What You give them they gather in; You open Your hand, they are filled with good.
          29 — You hide Your face, they are troubled; You take away their breath, they die and return to their dust.
          30 — You send forth Your Spirit, they are created; and You renew the face of the earth.
          31 — May the glory of the LORD endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in His works.
          32 — He looks on the earth, and it trembles; He touches the hills, and they smoke.
          33 — I will sing to the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
          34 — May my meditation be sweet to Him; I will be glad in the LORD.
          35 — May sinners be consumed from the earth, and the wicked be no more.  Bless the LORD, O my soul!  Praise the LORD!  (NKJV)

Just look at the world; it reveals the divine genius of God’s wisdom–His creation.  Look at the beauty, the diversity, balance, and order that is revealed.   God is marvelous in His works of creation.  As we go through life, seemingly everything being alright, all of a sudden the Leviathan comes to play.  A nightmare for ships, a source of terror for sailors, but take heart–God is there.
       Creation, including man, depends upon God for its birth, life, and length of life (Lawson).  Look at verse 30, when the Spirit of God comes, there is life–new life.  We, as believers, can look at our travels through this world as a child of God.  We should be praising God because of his wondrous creation, but more so, because of the new life through the blood of Jesus Christ.  The power of God is beyond understanding.  He just has to look at the earth and it trembles.  The mountains melt with His touch.  We must sing out His praises.  Our gladness is not in creation, but in the God of creation.  No matter what happens, no matter what transpires we must seek to make our meditation sweet to Him.  
       Here we see the real value of human life.  “Man is created by God with the capacity to enter into a personal relationship with him.  Here is the highest purpose of man’s existence, his loftiest reason for being.”  (Steven Lawson)  Read slowly and meditatively verses 30-35.  Make it your purpose to live to know God.

               “Through all eternity to Thee
               A joyful song I’ll raise;
               But O!  eternity’s too short
               To utter all Thy praise.”
                         –John Addison