Standing alone in the desert at night one feels that all about one there is this listening, an alertness for movement, for life, for change.”
–Louis L’Amour (Taggart)
“Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.”
–Luke 2:8 (NKJV)
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The warning is out–Don’t travel during the holidays. Don’t go celebrate Christmas! If you have to celebrate Christmas, do it in the secrecy of your own home. Especially do not gather together with other believers in a crowded setting, such as a church. Oh don’t, just don’t, your life is at stake.
Perhaps we should stop, and try to listen for the sound of the angels as on the evening of old. Stop, ponder the words one more time. Don’t listen to the cries of the media, or the fretful sounds of the powermongers. Stop, listen to the Word of God.
“And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly army of angels praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among people with whom He is pleased.'”
–Luke 2:13-14(NASB)
There are those out there that would shut out the words completely if they could. They do not want the celebration of the truth of Christmas to ring forth in the night. Even the hustle and bustle of the crowd detects something of Christmas. For why the rush of the crowd, but not to buy and then to give. Oh, it might speak of commercialism, but it also speaks of happiness.
There is a “pandemic”, there is terror on the streets, there are riots in the cities. Fear abounds! Stop, look, listen for the words of the angels.
“The angel-music seems out of place. We have almost forgotten the heavenly strains in the harsh and brutal antagonism of immediate events. To listen to the angels just now–it is as though the carol singers are at our door, and while they are singing outside the house a fierce quarrel is going on inside. And some people are thinking, and some people are saying, ‘The old song is a fond illusion! It is an old song, and nothing more! Its peaceful vision is a mirage! Its fair promise is a baseless dream! The music has no background in reality! It mocks where it used to comfort, and it irritates where it used to inspire!’ That is what many people are thinking, and what some people are saying. And therefore it might be well to listen to the angels again, as the music comes to us through these two thousand years; ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill among men.'”
–John Henry Jowett
There are those who fear that the gathering together will spread a “virus,” however, the real cause of alarm is that it may do damage to their power. Fear has always been used by those in power to maintain their power. Fear has always been a means to manipulate people. They will clamor that the old songs are mundane, archaic, an illusion, and are actually mocking the fear that those in power are trying to promote.
“Bah!” they cry, there is no peace. The whole story is a bunch of humbug. Phooey. And when I hear that I feel pity, and give a smile. For one, they did not read the verse, “peace among people with whom He is pleased.” I do not see the Lord being well pleased with many people today. People who vote for abortion and for abominations cannot be pleasing to the Lord.
But to the believer He is pleased, for He sees His Son.
Listen to the words again. Let the song come forth from the depths of your heart–be like the angels and say “Glory to God in the highest,” then thank Him for His wonderful peace. In this time of year, this wonderful season of Christmas, do not walk with fear in your heart, but step in faith, sing His praises and thanking Him for the birth of His Son–Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world.
Author: Ira Paine
The Saga of Miles Forrest
I don’t like it when Charlie has to go up to Telluride, especially at this time of year,” muttered Marta.
It was a slow time of morning. The rush was over at the diner with only two customers now sitting, nursing their coffee over at a corner table.
“Marta, have you, uh, and Charlie ever thought of him resigning and becoming town marshal?” asked Molly. Both of the ladies were sitting with me. This was a rare occasion. Emelda said she wasn’t able as she had to be getting food ready for the lunch crowd. “Miles only agreed to serve as town marshal until the end of the year.”
Marta took a sip of coffee, made an ugly face looking at me. “I don’t think he’s thought of it; I know I haven’t.” She dropped her gaze to her cup, then looked up again. “But Miles, what if they still want him?”
I pulled on my moustache a couple of times. I had really not given much thought as to what I’d do for regular work after the first of the year. I doubt if Foster would want me to continue in the capacity as town marshal. It was nice not having to travel much, and I hadn’t been contacted in several months for a job in my position as Deputy U.S. Marshal. As far as travel, that job was worse than county sheriff. Truth is, I was becoming more of a homebody.
“Listen, Marta, if Charlie wants that job, and the city councilmen will hire him, have him go for it. It won’t phase me,” I assured her.
Getting up I went grabbed the coffeepot on the little stove behind me motioning toward her. Marta quickly covered her cup with her hand, which brought a giggle from Molly. “Well, here’s the Parson,” I said watching him enter the diner, “he’ll have a cup with me.”
He took off his hat as he approached the table. “Ladies…Miles,” he greeted us with a smile.
Molly, got up as I put the cup on the table for the preacher. “It’s time for Marta and me to get back to work,” she explained. “Reverend.”
The parson and I watched as they got up and left the table. “I didn’t mean to run them off, Miles.” He sat down, then took a sip of coffee. I got a grimace, but not like the one from Marta. I pulled at my moustache again, thinking that perhaps I should clean the pot.
Reverend Chapman had stepped right into the vacancy left by Rev. Robinson. His wife, Betty, was not quite the social person that Lucy, the wife of Rev. Robinson was. One thing for sure, the new Parson Chapman was around the town, checking on folks and he didn’t shy away from the Mexican section of town either.
“Coffee’s a little stout this morning, Miles. What did you do different?” he inquired after taking a long swallow. He looked toward the large window in front of the diner. “Starting to snow again,” he said taking another sip.
There was already a little over a half foot of snow on the ground. But again this is December at the base of the San Juans. “I went out to see Mr. Keim yesterday,” he told me.
Looking over the rim of my cup, I raised my eyebrows waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, I asked, “And?”
“He’s moving around some,” he emptied his cup. Lifting it he asked, “Mind if I fill it?”
He was up heading for the pot before I could take it from him. I hated to be a poor host, but then I thought; it couldn’t be that bad if he wanted a refill.
Taking his seat, he countered with a question of his own. “Think you’ll ever find Shaw?”
This time I pulled at the other side of my moustache. “My thinkin’ is that he’ll show up again. He might hold up for the winter in Silverton. It might depend on whether he has any money or not, or” I paused a moment, “if he has found any new friends.”
I looked at the Parson, “Did Thompson say anything regardin’ Langston?”
Shaking he head, then jerked as the door burst open, startling him to spilling his coffee. It was Darnelle.
“Miles! You have to come quick, it’s Uncle Wil!” she was frantic. “Go to the store, I’m going after the doctor!”
The Parson and I looked at each other for a moment, then I grabbed my coat and shotgun and we both rushed out to Foster’s store. Upon our arrival a few minutes later there was a few folks standing around with one kneeling by Foster.
“Check on him,” I ordered, “while I move these people out of the way.”
I was in the process of moving the little crowd to one side of the store when Doc Jones rushed in with Darnelle. The man who was by Foster gave way to the doc who requested that he and the preacher help turn Foster on his back. Doc first undid his collar and removed the tie, then began to exam him.
Standing by Darnelle, I asked, “What happened?”
She was frightened, “I don’t really know. I was with Mrs. Yardley, helping her with some material when I heard a loud clunk, then a thud.” I looked around to see if she was in the crowd, none of which had left.
I could see Rev. Chapman praying with his hand on Foster’s shoulder, as Doc went through his preliminary exam. “He’s breathing,” explained Doc. “From that knot on his head, I think he must have knocked himself out as he hit the counter when he fell. I need to get him to my office.”
“Darnelle,” I said taking her by the arm. “Why don’t you close up shop, go get Elizabeth and take her to Doc Jones’ office.”
She nodded, then I turned to help shoo the onlookers out. Two men had gone over over to help carry Foster to Doc’s office. As they passed me, I saw Wilson open his eyes briefly, his eyes widened, then…
Echoes From the Campfire
Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!”
–Commander Howell Forgy
“Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, to which you were also called and have confessed the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”
–1 Timothy 6:12 (NKJV)
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The word came out loud and clear that morning seventy-nine years ago.
AIR RAID, PEARL HARBOR. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!
This was an event, a date that will forever change the face and direction of America. Never again has our military been taken by so much a surprise. (Note, the attack on 9/11 was on civilian targets).
When I look around me, I wonder what would happen if it would happen today. How would America respond? How would the snowflakes and twinkies react? Would they say, “not worth it, let the Japanese have the Pacific”? (Which is what the Japanese, in fact, hoped would happen). Would there be a resolve to face the foe and vanquish it? Think of the lives, just American, that were lost in defeating Imperial Japan. Add to that a few days later, December 11, Germany and Italy declared war on the United States.
With the attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States was thrust into an already bloody war. Most likely we would have entered at a later date to aid our allies, but with the dastardly, sneak attack by the Japanese the war came earlier. It would be a hard, blood-drenched road to victory. Many lives of young American boys would be lost in the jungles of the Pacific, much blood would soak the beaches of once unknown Pacific islands. Much was the same in Europe. Across the heat, and barrenness of the North African desert we would send men to fight and die. On then, into Italy and finally that momentous day on June 6, 1944, when the beaches of Normandy–all held the same feature: death, wounds and sacrifice.
Sacrifice! It is one of those sublime words. Words that have rang true and deep throughout the history of this great nation. Sometimes a tear comes to my eye and I shake my head when I see the moronic view of socialism coming into our country. An idea that is deadly, and will cost this nation dearly if it decides to go in that direction.
Sacrifice! A term that many, if not most, really do not comprehend today. Oh, we see a photo every now and then about someone who has been killed in Afghanistan or some far off place. However, when we see the sacrifice of a police officer there is not the clamor of hurrahs and cheers.
“Yesterday, December 7, 1942–a date which will live in infamy–the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked.”
–President Franklin D. Roosevelt (addressing Congress)
But is it fading? There are those who would whitewash the sacrifice of the red stain left by the blood of thousands. There are those who would change history. I like the statement by Lamar Underwood:
“Pearl Harbor wasn’t just an attack, or a battle. It was a turning point in history. From the moment the first Japanese torpedo cut through the water, Japan’s conquest of the Pacific region was doomed; Adolph Hitler’s destruction of civilization was doomed. The price would be high. Pearl Harbor was where America began to pay that price.”
Beware of the fading color of blood. Beware of becoming cozy with ideas and attitudes that would destroy this nation. Pray for this country. May that flag continue to wave over the home of the brave.
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
Coffee Percs
I sat there, enjoying the last drippings of the bacon by licking them off my fingers and enjoying the last of the coffee made from that wonderful mountain water.”
–D.C. Adkisson (Winter of the Wolves)
Get in here and sat yurself at the table. Careful of them spurs; I’ve warned yuh before. The elixir from the crushed bean is waitin’ for yuh. Nope, sorry, it’s not made from that cold, mountain water, but it’ll still get yuh up an runnin’.
Now, take a sip, an’ get ready for I’ve got somethin’ important to tell yuh. Pard, life is not magical, an’ I think yuh know that. Yuh don’t wriggle yur nose, nor say “abbra cadadabra” and expect things to change. Let me tell yuh straight–people are supposin’ that come 2021 that things are goin’ to automatically change. ‘Tain’t so! From what I can tell that virus from the “Pit” is here to stay, just like the flu. But let me also tell yuh, changes are about to come, so yuh best be ready for them.
We now have folks in the power center that believe God’s Word is hooey, and believe that right is wrong and wrong is right. They’re as confused as a termite in a yo-yo. They don’t know if they’re goin’ up or down, or spinnin’ around. However, they spout out some of the most unsensical things. I’ve heard some idiotic things that they plan to put in place.
Ahhh, sure do like sittin’ here with yuh on a Saturday drinkin’ coffee. Makes the world seem all right, but if I recall the words of that ol’ apostle John, the world’s in the sway of the devil. Yep, an’ ol’ slewfoot is a-grinnin’ that he has a bunch of his crew in charge. But I’ve news for him, the Lord God Almight is in charge, Yep, an’ that’s a fact!
Pot’s empty, so reckon you’ll be goin’. Sometimes, Pard, I think the only thing yuh stop by for is to be drinkin’ my coffee. Well, that’s all right. Oh, one more thing before yuh mount up–my new book is ready for yuh to read. Yuh might want to get yurself a copy to read; that is if yuh can. Ha, that’s a joke, Pard.
Yuh be watchful, and did yuh check that cinch?
Vaya con Dios.