The Saga of Miles Forrest

Whatever exists was given its name long ago, and it is known what man is. But he is not able to contend with the One stronger than he.”  –Ecclesiastes 6:10(HCSB)

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     He stood before me, a solid dark figure with a heavy coat, scarf around his neck, and hat pulled down low.  However, his face was plainly visible, the deep-set eyes that were almost a gray color rather than blue, square jaw, heavy brown moustache, and a hint of a smile at his lips.  “McBride!  What in the world are you doing here?”
     Snow had started to fall, but I wasn’t noticing it as much as the man in front of me.  “Come in, get out of the cold,” I said opening the door wide to let him enter.  It was then that I took notice of the snow.
     Shrugging his shoulders, he removed his scarf, then looked toward the table where we had been enjoying pie, coffee, and conversation.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to bust up your party,” he said as he was unbuttoning his coat.  Then he saw Molly, Betty, Marta, and Luciana.  “Sorry ladies, my manners are on the poor side,” he apologized, removing his hat.
     I offered to take his coat, but he shook his head, then placed it on top of a table.  I saw the eyes of Charlie and Mateo go to McBride’s gun.  The sign of a good lawman.  He saw it too and the semi-smile appeared again.  
     “Here, let me introduce you to my friends.  Listen up, folks, this here is, uh, Hollister McBride with the Colorado Rangers.”
     He gave a little bow of the head to the ladies, then straightened up as I introduced all of the men present.  I sort of lingered when I came to Finegan.  “This is, Cop, uh, Boyd Finegan.”
     Finegan reached out his hand, but McBride simply nodded his head.  Rev. Chapman spoke up, Mr. Finegan is recovering from a severe blow and, I might add, a severe pounding by the Lord on his body and soul.”  That brought a chuckle from most of those around the table.
     The light revelry was broken up by Mateo.  “Sorry, to leave this cozy circle, but someone has to be walking the streets protecting fine citizens like you.”  Mateo put on his coat, then stopped next to McBride.  “Nice to meet you.  I would like to la chara with you, but duty calls.”  He turned, walking to the door.  
     After he left the diner, McBride turned to me, “He has a slight limp….  Results from the job?”
     “Shot in the line of duty.  It was serious, but Mateo wouldn’t give up.  Weather like this,” I pointed to the windows.  “Causes him some pain, but like he told us, he has to make his rounds.”
     “Sit down, Mr. McBride.  Miles get him some coffee,” ordered Molly as she scooted back her chair from the table.  “I’ll find you a piece of pie,” she chuckled, then continued, “I always save Miles an extra piece in the kitchen.  He won’t mind sharing it with you.”  The information brought a groan, and an outright yelp from Doc.
     “Thank you, Ma’am, but call me Holly.”  He turned his attention to the men, smiling as if waiting for some remark.
     Doc pulled on his ear, then muttered, “Miles, as long as you’re up, why not fill our cups as well.”  It wasn’t a question, but a direction I was to take.  He then spoke to McBride, “What brings you to Durango, if I might inquire?”
     He smiled again, not at Doc’s question, but at the last piece of mincemeat pie that Molly set before him.  “Let me taste this, then I’ll answer you’re question, Doctor Jones.”
     It didn’t seem to bother him that all eyes were on him cutting the pie, scooping a bite up with the fork, bringing it to his mouth, which he hesitated, looking up over his fork at us, then stuffed it in his mouth and began to chew, then roll it around in his mouth then chew some more.  He turned to Molly, “Ma’am, this must be what manna tastes like an’ I sure hope the good Lord is takin’ note of this an’ is plannin’ on makin’ you one of the heavenly cooks.”
     That brought a good round of laughter, both because of the statement and the blushing of Molly.  “You didn’t tell me about Mr. Mc, I mean Holly, Miles.”
     He picked up his cup, took a sip, then asked, “And just what did Miles tell you about me?”
     “Uh, that’s a story for another time,” I sputtered.
     Charlie interrupted, “Mr. McBride, I really never heard of the Colorado Rangers until Miles told me.  Why is that?”
     “That’s a very good question, Sheriff.  The Rangers have been around since the War of the Rebellion,” he paused looking at each of us, I assume to get a reaction.  When none came he continued, “In the early years it was quite successful in its mission to protect gold and silver for the Union cause.  Since that time, it has been a hit or miss organization, sometimes used only on the whim of the Governor.
     He forked another piece of pie into his mouth, chewed it down, then took a deep swallow of coffee to wash it down.  “I, along with good men like Miles, plan to make it into a viable law enforcement organization….”

Echoes From the Campfire

But there was risk connected with everything, and we were hard men bred to a hard life in a hard land, and the lives that we lived were lonely, yet rich with the voice of our singing, and with tales told of an evening by the campfire.”
                    –Louis L’Amoure  (Killoe)

          “Lift up your spear and javelin and block the ways of my enemies.  Let me hear you say, ‘I am your salvation!'”
                    –Psalm 35:3 (NLT)
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I have often tried to think of the days of Mary and Joseph.  What extraordinary people they were.  No, that’s not right, they were ordinary people who had faith, used it, and obeyed.  That is something we all can do.  But there is more to it.  I once told a friend of mine who has a large church in Brooklyn, I said, “Bill, I could not do what you do.”  He looked straight at me, I can still see it though it happened back in the late 1970s, and said, “You could if God called you to do it.”  
     The calling!  I won’t say much regarding it now, but it is vital.  Today, we look at Mary.  A young girl, possibly as young as fourteen, was visited by an angel and told that she would become pregnant by the Holy Spirit and would bear the Son of God.  Wow!  When you think of it, it sort of boggles the mind.  There it is again, that mystery of the Incarnation.  Mary hears, listens, and gives herself over to the will of God and then sings a song.  I like what R.V.G. Tasker said, “Mary sings of a God who is not bound by what men do.  He turns human attitudes and orders of society upside down.”  This song is found in Luke 1.

          46 — And Mary said:  “My soul magnifies the Lord,
          47 — And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
          48 — For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant; for behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed.
          49 — For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name.
          50 — And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.
          51 — He has shown strength with His arm; He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
          52 — He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the lowly.
          53 — He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty.
          54 — He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy,
          55 — As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever.”  (NKJV)

     Mary must have known the Scriptures, and it is clear that she had a relationship with her heavenly Father.  She knew of His great power and wondrous mercy.  However, there is more–the song burst forth for several reasons, the promise, the visitation, the recognition of God, but even more–she was to be the vessel in which the covenant, the promise of God would be fulfilled.  God would bring the Messiah to Israel (and to all men) through her.  Thrilled, excited, and maybe a little fearful, but she bursts out into praise.
     Here is a good question and thought raised by William Petersen.  “When God asks you to do something, how do you respond?  Are you scared stiff, or do you follow Mary’s example, praising God that He has chosen to use you to accomplish His will?  He has chosen some unlikely people in the past to do His bidding, so don’t be too surprised if He chooses you.”  Hmm, are you ready for the call?

               “Hear the glad sound, the Savior comes, the Savior promised long!
               Let every heart prepare a throne, and every voice a song.
               He comes the broken heart to bind, the bleeding soul to cure,
               And with the treasures of His grace to raise the humble poor.”
                         –Philip Doddridge

Coffee Percs

He went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the pot always handy at the back of the stove, and rummaged around for a piece of pie and stood stooped over the kitchen table while he ate.” 

                    –Ernest Haycox  (Saddle and Ride)
 
Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  I heard yur step comin’ up the walk.  Since Thanksgivin’ it’s not so light as it used to be.  Pard, the pot is on, the day is before us and the Lord shore is good to us.  Plus the fact that the missus made a fantabulicious rhubarb pie yesterday.  Been ages since I had one of those, and mmmm, mmmm, it was good.  We’ve refused to buy rhubarb, why it was all around us when the two of us were growin’ up.  Folks never thought of goin’ to the grocery to buy rhubarb.  Wishin’ I had a patch of it.  Funny, a pie brinin’ back memories.  But then that’s part of the purpose of sittin’ down at the kitchen table, havin’ a piece of pie with a good cup of coffee an’ rememberin’.
     Don’t want to make yur bile rise whilst yur drinkin’, but more and more I see the words that Paul wrote bein’ fulfilled.  “Claimin’ to be wise, they became fools.”  Jist listen to some of the words that spill out of their mouths.  Plain foolishness.  The mayor of Chicago, is there anythin’ in his noggin’?  Then we have the newly elected Muslim in New York–crazy that he would be elected after 9/11, an’ on top of that he is a crazy man with insane ideas.  Woe, is the word that comes to my mind.
     Speakin’ of the folks in New York forgettin’ 9/11 so soon, yuh need to be rememberin’ tomorrow.  Yep, Pearl Harbor day.  Sunday mornin’ back in 1941, that dastardly deed was done that would send this country to war causin’ the bloodshed of thousands of American men.  Pard, it makes me wonder if we don’t appreciate this country enough.  The Lord has shore blessed us, and now we see people doin’ things totally contrary to His Word.  I also wonder what the veterans of Afghanistan and Iraq think of a Muslim mayor in of all places New York City.
     But Pard, tis the season to be jolly.  Reckon I am in my own way.  Try to keep the joy, joy, joy down in my heart.  Try to always be thankful.  I know, that I’m in good hands for He is a good Father.  Yuh be rememberin’ that when yuh take a sip of coffee, or eggnog this season.  Yuh be remembrin’ the Light that led the wise men to the Babe.  Yuh be rememberin’ that the Lord Jesus came as a baby to become the great sacrifice for our sins.  What a reason for the joy, what a reason for the season!
     Don’t be lettin’ the hustle an’ bustle make yuh forget that reason.  Keep the proper focus so’s yuh don’t forget to check yur cinch.
     Vaya con Dios.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

With light and darkness men change, women change, and life changes.”
                    –James Oliver Curwood (The Valley of Silent Men a Story of the Three River Country)

       “For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”
                    –2 Corinthians 4:6 (NKJV)
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Darkness, in the middle of lights and celebration?  Absolutely!  The lights, the fanfare, the bells, chimes, and celebrations are often indications of darkness.  Men and women run to them to escape their dark souls, to rationalize the sin in their hearts.  Many will not even acknowledge that they are sinners.  Darkness!  St. John of the Cross wrote, “For the sensual part of a man has no capacity for that which is pure spirit, and thus, when it is the spirit that receives the pleasure, the flesh is left without savor and is too weak to perform any action.”  Man does not want the true light to shine on his spirit for he loves to live in darkness, in his evil thoughts, that is one reason he fights to the conviction that comes to him.  Therefore, he often seeks the pseudo-light thinking that it will ease his conscience.
     St. John of the Cross continues with the thought that man’s palate was accustomed to the tastes and flavors of Egypt.  He enjoys it, he savors it, and when he is removed he will complain that he wants and prefers the food of Egypt; he complains about the food of heaven.  Thus when the light shines he shuts his spiritual mind against what it represents.  Oh that we would see the true light!  Let the lights on your tree remind you of the One who sent the Light into the dark world; to remind you of the Light that flooded the darkness of your heart and spirit.  
     Isaiah reminds us, “There will be no more gloom for her who was in anguish.” (9:1, NASB)  The NLT translates it this way, “Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever.”  In verse 2, Isaiah writes, “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; Those who live in a dark land, The light will shine on them.” (NASB)  At Christmas we think of the “star”, the light that led with wise men to the Child.  Light will cast out darkness, and in the spiritual realm so much more.  “The light of grace was breaking into the self-inflicted gloom of sin.” (Alistair Begg)  Begg continues his thought, “The good news of Christmas is that the God of the Bible is the God of grace, who comes into the darkness and emptiness of our hearts to bring His light, His joy, and His peace.”
     So don’t get into a frenzy with the lights of Christmas, as they represent the greater Light.  If there is darkness in your heart, don’t use the lights to try to brighten your soul, it will not work, and it will not last.  You, I, and all must come to the one Light, the Lord Jesus Christ.  The light of Christmas should not be seasonal, or even one day of the year.  “It is a Merry Christmas all the year round to a soul that has an unstaggering faith in the promises of the blessed God.” (Charles Spurgeon)  Live in the Light, live in it daily, hourly, and gaze at the wonder of the Light that has now come to your life.
     “May your Christmas be filled with grace over perfection, presence over pressure, and love over everything else.” (unknown)  In other words as the Light shines in your heart let it glow so that others may see and have hope.