Martin Olson was duly convicted by his peers and was sentenced to ten years at the penitentiary in Canon City. It was deemed best that a deputy from the prison would come and pick up the prisoner. I made sure that I didn’t even be one of Olson’s escorts to the train depot; this was done by Sheriff Gold and the prison guard.
I really held no animosity toward Olson. He was an arrogant, bombastic person who was interested in money and lording himself over others. After the trial, Judge Klaser had Foster and Newsome come to his chambers to swear me in as city marshal. He had a contract written up stating my various duties and that I would serve until the first of January after the election of mayor and the city council.
While Olson was being given his farewell I rode Star down to Mexican town to the home of Mateo Ramirez. Mateo was a well-known figure in that barrio. In an unofficial capacity he made sure that things were kept clean and stopped any major conflict between the inhabitants. He was about my height, a wiry body that reminded me of a gristle for he was tough and knew how to work. He had dark hair which complimented his ethnicity with a thick moustache that had no curl to it. His eyes were deep set, deep brown, and seemed to sparkle when he smiled. I wanted him for my deputy.
Riding Star up to his humble adobe, his wife, Luciana, was out from sweeping off the small wooden landing in front. I didn’t dismount, but tipped my hat, “Buenos dias, senora,” I called in my limited Spanish. “Is Mateo at home?”
“Si, Marshal Forrest, get down. I will go get him.”
While she went in her home, I dismounted standing there holding the reins. Mateo appeared with Luciana behind him. “Marshal!” he exclaimed, his eyes showing that sparkle. “What brings you to our humble home?”
“I have a proposition for you,” I responded.
Before I could answer, Luciana spoke up. “Come in, you can talk over some fresh chili and tortillas.”
“Well, I don’t want…” I glanced at Mateo and he gave me a look that I should accept. “I would be delighted.”
She gave me a smile that lit up her face. “It would bring honor to our home. The Marshal has never stopped here before.”
I followed her in with Mateo right behind me. She took me to a small, yet sturdy table. “You men sit,” she commanded, “I will go get your food.”
Within minutes she brought back bowls for myself and Mateo then returned with one for herself along with a pile of tortillas. When she was seated she looked at Mateo nodding.
“Senor, Marshal, will you bless our sharing?” he asked.
I said a short, but hopefully meaningful prayer asking the Lord to bless the Ramirez family and the hands that prepared the food. I almost forgot to have the Lord bless the food. When I finished, Mateo said, “Amen,” and Luciana gave that big smile of hers again.
“The boys will be sorry they missed you. They are attending school,” she informed me. They had two young boys, Alejo and Enrique. I knew them some as they were often with Lucas.
They both watched, waiting for me to take the first bite. Lifting my spoon I dipped it into the chili that had been thickened with refried beans. I figured it would be well-spiced and I wasn’t disappointed. It was quite savory, and I figured it would have goat meat, but I was delighted to taste the elk. After I smiled and nodded at them they began to eat.
After the first few bites, Mateo spoke, “What is it that you would venture down to see me, Marshal?”
I swallowed a bite of tortilla before replying. “I have a proposition for you. I’d like for you to be my deputy.”
I gave a shortened version of what had happened and that I was authorized to choose a deputy.
Mateo kept eating, seemingly in thought. Luciana stopped to look at me, then her husband. I could tell she wanted to speak, but she held her peace waiting for him.
Wiping his moustache with his fingers, he stated. “I am very honored. But I have one question before I give an answer. What will the Anglos think?”
“I was authorized to find the best man for the job. My first thought went to you. I really don’t care what they will think,” I paused then continued, “they will know that I back you.”
He leaned back in his chair, pulling at both ends of his moustache. I waited, and waited some more. He looked at Luciana as if trying to read her mind.
“When would I start?” he asked.
“Whenever you’re ready. The sooner the better.”
“I will take the job,” he stated. “Luciana, get the Marshal another bowl of chili.”
“The pay will be $40 a month,” I informed him.
Luciana had just picked up my bowl and I thought she was going to drop it with that news. She looked surprised, then embarrassed then hurried off to the kitchen. I really didn’t want another helping but I also didn’t want to refuse her.
Mateo grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. “That will keep us in plenty of frijoles.”
“Don’t smile too big; you’ll earn every penny,” I stated.
Luciana came back placing to bowl in front of me. “He will wear a badge like yours?” she inquired reaching over to touch mine.
“Not quite exactly like this one,” referring to my Deputy U.S. Marshal’s badge, “but one similar.”
“I will start tomorrow,” he stated.
“Meet at the diner at 7:00 in the mornin’,” I responded. “Senora, muchas gracias. It was delicious.”
Author: Ira Paine
Echoes From the Campfire
But some men—a few out of the many wanderers—find God out here in the wilds. Maybe you will.”
–Zane Grey (Wanderer of the Wasteland)
“My people are lost sheep; their shepherds have led them astray, guiding them the wrong way in the mountains. They have wandered from mountain to hill; they have forgotten their resting place.”
–Jeremiah 50:6 (HCSB)
——————————
I can remember one time while out hunting that I ventured across a small stream and stepped into quicksand. It was nothing serious and I easily withdrew my leg, but upon reading the first part of this Psalm it brought back to mind the quicksand. David was in the pit, down in the mud and mire when he cried out to the Lord who lifted him out. It was as if he had new life.
The first part of this section reminds us that there is no pit deep enough where the Lord cannot reach down and pull us out. Whether the pit is dug by someone else or is our own making, His arm will reach down to pull us out. Robert Bruce said, “There is no pit so deep, either within you, or around you, that it can stop the ear of God when he inclines to listen. Be thy pit then ever so horrible, and ever so deep, only you cry like David, and you will sooner or later share David’s deliverance. As long as you have the knowledge and the feeling of the horrible pit that is in your heart you are in no real danger.”
This portion of Psalm 40 is joyous and speaks of rescue and reflection.
1 – I waited patiently for the Lord, and He turned to me and heard my cry for help.
2 – He brought me up from a desolate pit, out of the muddy clay, and set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure.
3 – He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.
4 – How happy is the man who has put his trust in the Lord and has not turned to the proud or to those who run after lies!
5 – Lord my God, You have done many things—Your wonderful works and Your plans for us; none can compare with You.
If I were to report and speak of them, they are more than can be told. (HCSB)
Try to count all the things that the Lord has done for you. Be like the old song, “Count your blessings, name them one by one…see what God has done.”
Now the rest of this portion. Verse 6 is interesting. It speaks of the Lord opening his ears. Have you ever had your ears clogged up? I had a friend, sergeant in the Air Force, who was getting dizzy. He went to the doctor who proceeded to pull out a hunk of junk from his ear about the size of the first section of his little finger. He was having trouble hearing and it was causing him to stumble. The correct wording for this verse would indicate that God “dug” David’s ears so that he hears, understands, and obeys.
6 – You do not delight in sacrifice and offering; You open my ears to listen. You do not ask for a whole burnt offering or a sin offering.
7 – Then I said, “See, I have come; it is written about me in the volume of the scroll.
8 – I delight to do Your will, my God; Your instruction lives within me.”
9 – I proclaim righteousness in the great assembly; see, I do not keep my mouth closed—as You know, Lord.
10 – I did not hide Your righteousness in my heart; I spoke about Your faithfulness and salvation; I did not conceal Your constant love and truth from the great assembly. (HCSB)
David speaks about being given a new song to sing; he speaks about delighting to do God’s will. That should be our practice and our prayer.
“Open, Lord, my inward ear, and bid my heart rejoice;
Bid my quiet spirit hear your comforting voice.
From the world of sin and noise and hurry I withdraw;
For the small and inward voice I wait with humble awe.”
-Charles Wesley
Coffee Percs
In the short days he woke in the dark at exactly half-past four. He started a fire in the bunkhouse stove, and set coffee on.”
–Alan LeMay (The Searchers)
Howdy-do, Pard. Glad to have yuh this mornin’, yur cup is ready an’ I’ll be fillin’ it shortly. Say, that kinda reminds me of how the Lord wants us to be–we need to have our cup ready to be filled. Methinks that far too often the Lord want to pour us full of the Spirit, but we don’t have our cup ready, or can’t find it, or maybe stored it away somewhere. We need to have it ready so it can be poured full.
Ahhh, shore does taste mighty good this mornin’. ‘Course it taste good all the time, but the cup of coffee in yur hand is the one that tastes the best. I was readin’ what ol’ LeMay wrote, and it made me think back to my workin’ days when I was up at 4:30 puttin’ the coffee on, any gettin’ my cup ready. My mercy, hard for this ol’ fence post to get up at 6:00 any more. Ah, where are the days of youth? Spent too quickly; time has stolen them. But yuh know what? I’m goin’ to enjoy today, an’ another cup of coffee.
Speakin’ of time; another month has sped by. Where did the days and hours go? Do yuh find Him gettin’ sweeter as the days go by? This quarantine thing, if’n yuh took advantage of it was a time to be spendin’ with the Lord. As much as I enjoy sharin’ coffee with yuh every Saturday, I enjoy the days of sittin’ with the Lord drinkin’ my coffee with Him.
What? Cup’s empty; pot’s empty. Well, Pard, we shore guzzled that down fast this mornin’. I’ll keep a cup here, ready for yuh when yuh stop by. Yuh best be carryin’ one in yur gear; I always keep one in the steel mount. Never know when I might need to stop along the trail–always best to be ready. Say, an’ as important as that cup is, maybe more important is the fact that yuh need to check yur cinch before mountin’.
Vaya con Dios,
Echoes From the Campfire
The recent rain had scented the air with the heavy aroma of grass which cleared the head and made a soul feel good about life.”
–Mike Stotter (McKinney’s Law)
“And there will be a tabernacle for shade in the daytime from the heat, for a place of refuge, and for a shelter from storm and rain.”
–Isaiah 4:6 (NKJV)
———————–
My, we’ve had a few really good thunderstorms this week. I’ve always enjoyed them, well, that is until I see some of the results. I’ve seen trees blasted by lightning, and I’ve felt the effect of a lightning strike. I was playing ball; I was pitching and I remember it well. I had wound up and WHAM!, the next thing I knew I was on the ground, as were the rest of the players. My hand still clenched the ball and half the lights were out. We were never sure what happened; lightning either hit the lights or the backstop. I also don’t care for those storms that bring hail which can be so devastating. My truck still has dimples like a golf ball from a hail storm.
But a good old rain–ahhh, the smell afterward is sweet, cleansing. The grass looks greener and for sure with a little sun it grows faster. The flowers, after shaking off the wetness from their petals, are more brilliant in hue. I sometime ponder if God doesn’t do that with our lives. The storm, then the sweetness following. When the storm comes we get all stirred up, maybe even fearful, but afterward we relax and wonder why.
Much of what I’m sharing with you is by F.B. Meyer (another one of my favorites). He warns about “feeling” or what I referred to above. We do not follow God with our feelings, if we do we will find that when the storms come we will be in dire straits. Feelings are fine, but we don’t seek them in serving God nor are we to live by them. On the other hand don’t worry if you do not “feel” anything in the service of the Lord.
“The lack of feeling does not always indicate that we are wrong. It may be that Christ would teach us to distinguish between love and the emotion of love; between joy and the rapture of joy, between peace and the sense of peace. Or perhaps He may desire to ascertain whether we cling to Him for Himself or for His gifts.”
I do believe that many serve and praise the Lord for those times of “feeling.” Come out of a church and a person will ask, “How are you feeling?” or “I felt God today.” Well, fine and dandy, but the do-dads running up and down your back is not necessarily the Holy Spirit. Meyer says that to “Seek feeling, and you will miss it. Be content to live without it, and you will have all you require… . If you are always consulting your feelings, you will live in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is.”
The storms of life will come, I can assure you, but wait–afterward there is a “feeling” of newness, of refreshing. You don’t have to seek for it as it will flow through the air. Don’t look for it, don’t seek it. “Be indifferent to emotion. If it is there, be thankful; if it is absent, go on doing the will of God…” We do not live by feelings.