Echoes From the Campfire

He listened to the sough of the wind in the cedar over his head, low and pleasant, a strange sound, never anything but music.”
                         –Zane Grey  (Fighting Caravans)

       “The wind goes toward the south, And turns around to the north; The wind whirls about continually, And comes again on its circuit.”
                         –Ecclesiastes 1:6 (NKJV)
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               “Listen to the wind, wonder what he’s sayin’…oooo
                Seems to be a sadness in the sighing of the wind…”
                         –Bob Nolan

               “The wind is the bearer of bad and good tidings
               The weaver of darkness, the bringer of dawn.
               The wind gives the rain, then builds us a rainbow,
               The wind is the singer who sang the first song.”
                         –John Denver

               “The wayward wind is a restless wind,
               A restless wind that yearns to wander…”
                         –Eddy Arnold/Herbert Newman

               “The wind blows where it likes, you can hear the sound of it but you have no idea where it comes from and where it goes. Nor can you tell how a man is born by the wind of the Spirit.”
                         –John 3:8 (Phillips)

March must be started with the wind, after all it is the windy month.  It comes in like a lion, the wind blowing and howling.  I’m no stranger to the wind, I grew up in one of the windiest cities in the United States.  The wind would often go over 100 mph.  I’m not speaking of the winds of a hurricane or a tornado, but the wind sweeping down through the canyons of the Front Range.  Listen, if you didn’t hang on to your hat it would blow it all the way to Kansas.  Annie and I were camping once in the high country on the border of Utah and Wyoming.  It was quite breezy as I put up the tent, and that night the wind came up, blowing and howling.  Annie said that we might get blown away.  I said that the wind might blow down the tent, but it wouldn’t blow it away because we were in it.
       We cannot see the wind, but we can sure feel it and see its effects.  It is one of the major symbols of the Holy Spirit.  And as is stated in John, He blows where He likes.  The Spirit was there at the beginning.  I like to think of Him as the “wind” “hovering over the waters” (Genesis 1:2)  As the wind is invisible, so is the Holy Spirit, but we can see His work in us and around us.  We know that He is working in us–sometimes just barely the whisper of a breeze, but at other times the wind rages inside us so that we can hardly stand His presence.
       The story is told this way by F.M. Marsh.  A man said that he did not believe in anything he could not see.  He turned to a Christian to mock him.  “Have you ever seen the Holy Spirit?  Have you ever tasted the Holy Spirit?  Have you ever smelt the Holy Spirit?  Have you ever felt the Holy Spirit?”  The Christian answered “no” to all but the last question, then he turned to the man.  “Have you ever seen a pain?  Have you ever tasted a pain?  Have you ever smelt a pain?  Have you ever felt a pain?”  The man answered in the same way.  The same could be true of the wind.
       The 19th-century Bible scholar, Joseph Rotherham translates John 3:8, thusly, “The Spirit where it pleaseth doth breathe, and the sound thereof thou hearest; but knowest now whence it cometh and whither it goeth, thus is every one born of the Spirit.”  The Spirit moves upon the earth and upon people to do His will and pleasure.  The Holy Spirit in His moving, is not arbitrary, but is sovereign in His dealings.  We cannot think of the Holy Spirit without thinking of the “rushing, mighty wind” that descended upon those waiting in the upper room on the Day of Pentecost.  The word “mighty” means violence and vital activity.  Marsh says this wind is the “power to breathe, power to move, and power to bring.”  This wind was “rushing,” in other words driven.  “When He comes in the rushing of His power, who can stand before His sway?  Saints are melted, consciences are quickened, feelings are stirred, bitternesses are expelled, wrongs are righted, restitutions are made, love is alert, faith is great, hope is buoyant, prayer is real, zeal is fervent, service is willing, humility is patient, temper is sweet, holiness is seen, testimony is effectual, and God is glorified.” (F.M. Marsh)
       The wind is real, you have felt it.  The power of the wind is also real, just as the power of the Holy Spirit is real.  This beginning of March, when you feel the touch of the wind, think on Him, the Holy Spirit.  When you see the leaves blowing and the trees bending in the wind, think on the power of the Holy Spirit.  Let this wind of March that comes in like a lion cause you to cast your thoughts upon the Holy Spirit, the One who seals you.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

It’s the seeds we nurtured when our lives are over that matter, not the regrets and mistakes we made along the way. In a believer’s life, the regrets and shame, the mistakes we make are the chaff that’s tossed aside. The meat of our life’s work is the legacy that will matter.”

                    –Kenneth Pratt  (The Wolves of Windsor Ridge)

       “Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers may not be hindered.”
                    –1 Peter 3:7 (NKJV)
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Spinster’s Spree!  Watch out fellows–oops, better watch it or I may be accused of being chauvinistic.  But today is February 29, the day in which women, spinsters in particular run the race to find a man–maybe not the man of their dreams, but a man.  To understand, and most reading this probably have no clue as to what I’m talking about, you have to go back to Al Capp and the community of Dogpatch with Li’l Abner and Daisy Mae.
       Of course today, with feminism abounding, women can take the lead in courtship, or finding a man, any time they well please.  But in times past, according to Capp at least, there was one day, every four years, in which a race was held.  Originally it was the daughter of the mayor who was a spinster and was out to catch her man.  Sadie was the homely daughter who hadn’t been able to catch the eye of a man, so the date was set for the race where she could find a man to marry.
       I well remember that day, over fifty years ago now.  Annie and I had just started dating.  Sadie Hawkins was coming up fast, but let me tell you I didn’t sprint away from the occasion, I sorta mosied on along waiting for her to ask me to dinner.  We went to the Bonanza, and she purchased two filets, and if I have it right, we got both for under five dollars.  My, my….think of that.  Love in bloom for less than five dollars.  
       In reading about Al Capp and Sadie Hawkins I found him to be much aligned.  One article called him sexist, showing little respect for women giving them only one day a year to pursue a man.  Come on, we already know that isn’t true.  Read the first few chapters of Proverbs.  Another article degraded him saying in a gay relationship who pursues who?  I almost smiled, I would have if it wasn’t so sad and grieving to the heart of God.  They added the problem that this causes “genderqueer” individuals.  
       Sadly, we live in a time where we have to watch our “p’s and q’s”, hmmm, maybe our “r’s and w’s” as well.  With abominable practices around and people so touchy regarding pronouns…well, it’s just a shame.  The same is true for kid’s games, books, and toys.  When is enough, enough?  “The look on their countenance witnesses against them, And they declare their sin as Sodom; They do not hide it. Woe to their soul! For they have brought evil upon themselves. (Isaiah 3:9, NKJV)  Isaiah has more stern words, “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; Who put darkness for light, and light for darkness; Who put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!  Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes, And prudent in their own sight!” (Isaiah 5:20-21, NKJV)
       As for me, right now, I’m going to smile and remember that evening so many years ago.  It was one of many that we shared and have continued to share for over fifty years.  A time of getting to know one another, a time of laughter and of the budding of love.  Steak, medium rare–please, oh, and add a piece of apple pie to it.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

A man’s work was his badge of honor.”

                    –Luke Short  (Hard Money)
 
       “For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, you are God’s building.”
                    –1 Corinthians 3:9 (NKJV)
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There was a restaurant that closed down not too long ago in town.  I always wondered what happened as it seemed to be doing a good business.  Finally, another business owner in town told me what happened.  They couldn’t get anyone to work.  That’s a shame!  A thriving enterprise going under simply because no one wanted to work.  Recently I heard of another situation.  A young graduate secured himself a good job with outstanding pay and benefits, especially for an opening position.  He found out that he had to work on a Saturday and threatened to quit.  My mercy!  Yes, I know that there are those who throw their lives away working on a career, but at the same time there are those who would rather play around and receive a handout than to put in an honest day’s work.
       So what do we call these people, those who want their loans paid for them, those who do not want to work or do not do a quality job when working?  Sluggards!  Sloths!  Loafer!  Ne’er-do-well!  Bum!  Slacker!  And I’m sure we could add more to the list.  The Bible has much to say about work, and about an idler.  There is great dignity to work, and also to quality work.  Work is to be done for the glory of God and for the common good of the people.  Someone said that “we are called to live the eternal life now, in all of life, and especially in our work.”
       My Aunt once remarked to my Dad, that she thought “Daddy, worked him too hard.”  My Dad rebuked her saying that one of the most important things that “Daddy” ever did for him was to teach him to work and work hard.  Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes, “Nothing is better for a man…than that his soul should enjoy good in his labor.  This also, I saw, was from the hand of God.” (2:24, NKJV) and he continues “So I perceived that nothing is better than that a man should rejoice in his own works, for that is his heritage…” (3:22, NKJV).  Work is part of God’s plan for man; he was put in the garden to work it.  And in saying that, if Adam was to work, if that was God’s plan, why do we think we will float around on little clouds playing a harp in heaven?  No, there will be some kind of work.  When Christ comes to rule on earth, He will place some over ten cities, some over five, and so on–in other words, there will be work to do.
       Paul gives a warning, that perhaps those who bounce around or sit at home waiting for their welfare check, should give heed.  “For even when we were with you, we commanded you this:  If anyone will not work, neither shall he eat.  For we hear that there are some who walk among you in a disorderly manner, not working at all, but are busybodies.  Now those who are such we command and exhort through our Lord Jesus Christ that they work in quietness and eat their own bread.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12, NKJV).   As Woodrow Call said in “Lonesome Dove,” “A hard day’s work never hurt anybody”.
       Those who want their school bill canceled–work and pay it off.  Find a job, make something of yourself.  Remember, it is not money that makes the man, but the man who earns and toils for the money.  Money has an end; it is not to be loved but to be used for the kingdom of God as good stewards.  What happened to the unfaithful–the lazy steward, or should I call him the “sluggard”?  He was cast out.  People should know you by your work and the quality of it.  As the quotation at the beginning of the Echo:  “A man’s work was his badge of honor.”

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

Upon seeing the mob, Rev. Chapman and Father Cisneros stopped abruptly, smiles disappearing from their faces.  Amos Martin, now standing eyed them intently.  The Parson came up to my right side, just a little behind me and inquired, “Miles, what’s going on here?”
       “Mr. Martin is lookin’ for his daughter.  He claims she’s been kidnapped.”
       I couldn’t see the parson’s countenance, but something in it must have triggered Martin.  He lunged for the preacher, thrusting me aside, grabbing him by the collar.  “Preacher!  Where’s Agatha?” he near screamed.  
       By this time, Mateo had come up to grasp one arm of Martin and I had been able to gain my balance and took hold of his other one and we pulled him away from the parson.  Martin has gone crazy-mad.  
       “Now, Brother Martin…” he began but was interrupted.
       “Don’t ‘Brother Martin’ me.  Do you know where she is?” he blasted, spittle coming from his mouth.
       Rev. Chapman straightened his shoulders, then looked Martin square in the eye.  “I do.”
       Martin’s eyes widened in fury as he tried to lunge for the preacher again.  This time, Mateo and I were ready and he couldn’t break our grasp.  “You have no right to hide her from me!” he exclaimed in rage.
       “From the way you’re acting, I had every right.  Agatha is of age and is now married to a fine, hard-working man,” came the calm, but firm answer from Rev. Chapman.
       “I’ll have it annulled!” he proclaimed still trying to break away from us.
       From another quarter, Sheriff Gold shouted.  “Why don’t you all go home.  This doesn’t concern you, and it’s too cold out here.  This was a legal marriage of two adults.  There is nothing you can do about it.”
       A voice from the crowd hollered out, one I didn’t recognize.  “Are you telling us that she wasn’t kidnapped?”
       “No more than you kidnapped Mary those years ago,” retorted Charlie with humor in his voice trying to lighten the mood.
       “Amos,” started in another man.  “You told us she’d been kidnapped.”
       Some of the air had been taken from Amos Martin, he seemed to have calmed down some, but I was afraid that it was burning and boiling inside ready to pop.  He sort of growled when he replied, “She was, she wouldn’t have gone of her own accord, not with one of them bean-eaters.  She wasn’t raised that way.”
       There was some mumbling and bickering in the crowd, I heard someone say that he was going home.  Most of those gathered began to move away with only a few standing with Martin.  Father Cisneros had moved up to stand beside the parson.
       Martin must have felt our grip relaxing for he burst out in wild fury striking the priest in the face knocking him down, then wrapping his meaty hands around the throat of Rev. Chapman.  I was in no position to bring the Greener to thump in on the head, but Mateo was quicker.  Lightning quick he drew his pistol and shoved his hard under the chin of Martin, hard enough that I heard his teeth clatter.  He pushed up with the barrel lifting Martin to his toes.
       “Release the preacher!” he ordered through gritted teeth.  Cocking the gun, he repeated, “Release him, I won’t say it again!”
       Martin took Mateo to heart, but gave him a stare filled with daggers as he stepped back.  Glaring at Mateo, Martin barked, “This ain’t over, bean-eater!” Then turned toward two men of the cloth.  “I’ll find them, and when I do she’ll be a widow right quick like!”  He spat toward the feet of the two men of God.  “I’ll burn out that barrio if I have to!”
       Mateo released him, then pushed him back.  “You have a gun, let’s take care of this now…”