Echoes From the Campfire

The mountains, with their aspens and pines framed by snowcapped peaks, had been like a balm to his soul.”

                    –Duane Boehm  (Sun Over the Mountains)

       “Now it came to pass in those days that He went out to the mountains to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God.”
                    –Luke 6:12 (NKJV)
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We had a nice time traveling through the country; at least, I know I had a good time.  The vast plains of Kansas and Nebraska to the Rockies of Wyoming and Colorado, and then back to Texas stopping at Palo Duro.  Someone said that “the world is charged with the grandeur of God.”  Anyone who cannot see God in nature is a poor man indeed, and I will go further–a fool.
       Because we were in constant travel mode taking my grandson to see the sights where I grew up there wasn’t time to sit and contemplate.  Of course, I do quite a bit of philosophyzing in my mind when I drive, but the problem is I can’t write down my thoughts keeping both hands on the wheel.  I would have liked to spend time along one of the high country rivers watching the water cascade over the rocks, or sit on the bank of a pristine mountain lake watching the sun reflect off its surface, maybe even drop a line and catch a trout.  Ah, the memories of catching a fish and cooking a meal in the high country.  But…time wouldn’t permit.
       A quotation that is a favorite of mine, and often comes to my thoughts is from the pen of Louis L’Amour.  “Look to the hills.  They are quiet.  The storms sweep over them, and are gone, and most of man’s troubles pass the same way.  Whenever you feel that things are getting too much for you, go to the mountains or the desert–it smoothes out the wrinkles in your mind.”  Jesus must have understood some of this.  We are told that He often went alone into the wilderness to pray.  To be in His creation, that formed from the words of His mouth was a regular habit of His.  
       However, most of the time, at least in recent years, I contemplate those scenes in my memory or from photos.  I look out the window where I do my morning reading and writing and can see the forest where we live.  It is not much, but there is still solitude under the trees as their branches sway in the wind.  I recall the words of Thomas Merton, “The silence of the forest, the peace of the early morning wind moving the branches of the trees, the solitude and isolation of the house of God; these are good because it is in silence, and not in commotion, in solitude and not in crowds, that God best likes to reveal Himself most intimately to men.”
       What I saw on this past trip was what man calls “progress.”  The once mountains where I roamed were filled with houses and other structures.  The roads were paved and the traffic vastly increased.  More and more I see that “the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now.” (Romans 8:23, NKJV)  There is a groaning and moaning as God’s marvelous creation is in pain from the advances of progressive man.  It will continue until that time in the near future when Jesus Christ will reign on earth during the Millennial and remove the curse.
       Special spots that I have been to, camped in, hunted and fished, and enjoyed a special time with the Lord whether actively seeking Him or just enjoying the presence of Him in His creation.  Those special spots are a glimpse of heaven on earth.  Bernard Brady wrote, “Heaven is a place and sense of being.”  That is true, but it is far more.  Heaven is the hope of the Christian.  Mountains in their grandeur stretch up toward the heavens, but it will be nothing in comparison with what God has for us for Heaven is not just a sense of being, it is a real place.  There are those special places here, now.  There is “that spot that has much charm, it greatly soothes weary minds, relieves anxieties and cares, helps souls who seek the Lord greatly to devotion, and recalls to them the thought of the heavenly sweetness towards which they aspire.” (Bernard of Clairvaux)  But one day, we shall actually be in the presence of God.  Heaven is where God lives; it is our spiritual home, a place that is reserved for us.
       “Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” (1 John 3:2, NKJV)  That will be in Heaven.  “Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me.  In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I go to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:1-3, NKJV).  That’s better than just smoothing out the wrinkles in our minds–that is Heaven.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

Loyalty is the most precious thing on earth. I will never waste it foolishly.”
                    –Clair Huffaker  (Cowboy)

       “For I desire mercy and not sacrifice, And the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.”

                    –Hosea 6:6 (NKJV)
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One of the saddest commentaries in the Bible, in fact, let me say further, what may be the saddest is the betrayal of Jesus by Judas Iscariot.  In recent years I have noticed that there seems to be a softening towards this man of treachery.  Some say that he was only trying to force Jesus into confronting the power of Rome, but Scripture indicates otherwise.  This man of treachery whom Barclay calls “the perfect actor and the perfect hypocrite” had allowed Satan to enter him.
       Judas had the opportunity, as did all the disciples, to make the confession that Jesus was the Christ.  There is no mention that he did, even after Peter’s confession, yet he walked with Jesus, broke bread with Him, heard Him teach, saw His miracles and healings.  What happened?  He allowed Satan to enter him.  Take heed–this is no light matter for it could happen to anyone who does not take up the cross of Christ, but allows himself to be led by the devil.  
       Jesus saw something in Judas, there was possibility for the man, yet he did not allow himself to surrender to the Lord, instead he surrendered his life to Satan.  It isn’t an immediate happening; it isn’t something that is all of a sudden thrust upon a person.  Jesus saw the potential, and He saw the outcome.  “Jesus answered them, ‘Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?’  He spoke of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, for it was he who would betray Him, being one of the twelve.” (John 6:70-71, NKJV)  Barclay translates it, “‘Did I not choose you twelve, and one of you is a devil?’  He meant Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, for he was going to betray him…”  Here was a man in whom Jesus could see a purpose (not the betrayal).  “But Judas, who might have become the hero, became the villain; he who might have become a saint became a name of shame.” (William Barclay)
       Somewhere along the way Judas began to slide deeper and deeper into the clutches of the devil.  Satan had tried to get Jesus to worship him and had failed, now he would use one of Jesus’ own disciples for the deed.  We see a glimpse of the heart of Judas in John 12.  Judas became indignant that Mary would “waste” the precious perfume to wipe the feet of Jesus.  Was this act of devotion by Mary seen repugnant to Judas?  Had he not seen that Jesus was the Christ and deserved all honor?  He used a cover-up to hide his heart, “‘Why was this fragrant oil not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?’  This he said, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and had the money box; and he used to take what was put in it.” (John 12:5-6, NKJV)  In other words, he would steal from the group treasury.  J.B. Phillips translates it thus, “He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was dishonest, and when he was in charge of the purse used to help himself to the contents.”
       Judas was a thief; it was remain one or repent.  Charles Swindoll writes, “Judas had been cultivating a double life for much of his time with Jesus.  His charming religious facade kept a seething resentment safely concealed from the others.  No one suspected his secret sin, much less wondered about his loyalty.”  But Jesus knew.  This of that last night.  The Lord washed his feet, gave him the seat of honor at the table with Him, and offered him fellowship.  Judas accepted the position, but rejected the grace.  Jesus appealed to the darkened heart of Judas time and time again, but Judas remained unmoved.  He was impervious to the appeal of love; in his heart he was actually mocking God.
       By this time, Judas had become the instrument of Satan.  This is a lesson for us for we too can be a servant of either light or darkness.   Know this, that Satan could not have entered into Judas unless he had opened the door.  “There is no handle on the outside of the door of the human heart.  It must be opened from within.”  (Barclay)  Look at the heart of Judas, “Then Satan entered Judas, surnamed Iscariot, who was numbered with the twelve.  So he went his way and conferred with the chief priests and captains, how he might betray Him to them.  And they were glad, and agreed to give him money.  So he promised and sought opportunity to betray Him to them in the absence of the multitude.” (Luke 22:3-6, NKJV)  This was before the Last Supper, but at that gathering, Jesus had tried to reach Judas, but we read in John, “Now after the piece of bread, Satan entered him.  Then Jesus said to him, ‘What you do, do quickly.'” (13:27, NKV)
       For some dark reason, Judas had decided to go the way of evil, to follow the lordship of the devil.  Notice, Judas had already succumbed to Satan upon meeting with the priests, now it culminates when he accepts the bread, symbolizing the broken body of the Lord.  Judas turned away from love’s appeal.  Judas gave himself over to the devil.  “We must be on the watch so that in our lives the devil never warps the lovely things until he can use them for his own purposes….  If we submit ourselves to Christ we walk in the light; if we turn our backs on him we go into the dark.  The way of light and the way of dark are set before us.  God give us wisdom to choose aright–for in the dark a man always goes lost.”  (Barclay)

 

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…