The preacher, striding down the slopes of California Gulch, was a stalwart specimen of manhood.  Tall, broad of shoulder, erect, he presented a striking figure…. This preacher was a ‘man’s man.’  If doubted, evidence was shortly forthcoming.  He could handle axe and pick as well as the next one.  Hands that were large, with fingers widespread, bespoke strength.  The preacher asked no quarter for any man; none was needed….  He was not pugnacious, but neither would he back down from an aggressor who was foolish enough to threaten him.  Earnestness, conviction, masculinity made him readily acceptable to the miners, and no matter whether preaching the Gospel in a saloon, or on the trail, or in a rousing mining camp, he and his message were accorded respect….
The preacher, unmindful of the cold, slowed his pace during the last hour; there were moments when he stood stock-still in the presence of the ever-changing wonder, only moving his head from west to east, and east to west, seeking to capture each shifting scene.  It was miracle to him; it was God at work in His world!
The preacher pulled the brim on his hat lower and used his hand to shield his eyes from the lashing, sticking flakes….  The climber could see scarcely ten feet in any direction–all landmarks obliterated–all sense of direction befuddled.  Now there was snow two and three feet deep in places.  It was two, three steps, then sink waist-deep; stop–regain breath; pull one leg out atop the snow; stagger two, three more steps and down waist-deep again.  Such struggling was strength-consuming, exhausting….  He would build a fire and await storm’s end.  One after another his matches failed to light; the box was emptied.  Wet snow had dampened his clothes.  He must reach the toll-house before the coldness of night descended and his clothes froze stiff.  The temptation was strong to lie down a few minutes and rest–the old, old deceitfulness of mountain storm; to lie down now would be to sleep forever.  He had to keep moving for heat and survival, hoping he was moving in the right direction.”  (Mark Feister)
Thus was one day in the life of a Methodist circuit-riding preacher in Colorado.  One day in the life of John Lewis Dyer.  There were times on this trip to his next little community in which he was to preach that he could quit and just sleep forever, but he kept moving.  Survival and duty demanded that he continued.  He hoped that he was on the right trail.
The moral of the story is–never quit.  When God calls you keep going until He finally takes you home.  Move one step in front of the other and depend upon the Holy Spirit for direction.  Use your brains and your skills for sure, but gain strength from the Lord.  Life can be consuming and exhausting, but there is one step to be taken; one more conversation to be held.  Don’t let exhaustion overtake you–move toward the mark.

“You will be hated by all because of My name, but the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.”
–Mark 13:13 (NASB)

Perhaps one of the greatest mistakes of the Christian life of this century is the forgetting of the fact that we are but pilgrims moving through this life.  This world is not our home; we are just traveling through it for a time.  When the way gets rough or dreary we need to remember that we have a close Friend by our side and we need to look to Him along the way.  He will help us not to get lost, to get over obstacles, to weather the storms, and to guide each day and night.    
         
          “As I travel through this pilgrim land
           there is a Friend who walks with me.
           Leads me safely thru the sinking sand,
           It is the Christ of Calvary;
           This would be my prayer dear Lord,
           each day to help me do the best I can
           For I need Thy light to guide me day and night
           Blessed Jesus hold my hand.”
                    –Albert Brumley

“Yea, though I walk the Valley of the Shadow of Death…” I know that Jesus is with me.  He is with me on the highest mountains where the winds howl and He is with me in the lowest valleys.  On that last trail of life that takes me toward that setting sun I can go with assurance that He is holding my hand.  Life may have given me friends from time to time, but Jesus is a friend that goes with me through life, and then through death, and then He will be with me also when I reach heaven’s shore.

          “When I wander thru the valley dim
           toward the setting of the sun,
           Lead me safely to a land of rest
           If I a crown of life have won;
           I have put my faith in Thee, dear Lord,
           That I may reach the golden strand,
           There’s no other friend on whom I can depend,
           Blessed Jesus hold my hand.

                 Jesus, Hold my hand, I need Thee every hour,
                 Thru this pilgrim land, protect me by Thy power;
                 Hear my feeble plea, O Lord, look down on me,
                 When I kneel in prayer I hope to meet you there,
                 Blessed Jesus, hold my hand.”

I would be remiss if I did not mention that my Grandma knew Albert Brumley and my Aunt Bern would also exclaim that he was her music teacher.  Both of them knew also of that Friend of whom he wrote and would agree with the words of this song.

You know, I don’t know what gets me the most:  the whiny-babies or the idiot-protestors.  On top of it some newscaster said on election night that all of America is crying.  I don’t think he got it either; at least half of them didn’t.  What can a person say?  Just shake your head at the stupidity.
Tell me what burning the American flag and breaking windows of private individual’s business has to do with protesting the election of Donald Trump.  Counseling, missing class, mercy me!
—————
     Time!  That precious commodity; wait, that’s not right.  It’s not a commodity, it is actually a gift and we will be held responsible for how we use our time.  I recall a poem from Waddie Mitchell, “Another Day” that has an interesting note on “time.”

          “We set our place, we set our pace
               we fill our calendar
           We haven’t any time to waste
               so, we must whip and spur
           Go, seize the day.  God, make the hay
               the sun won’t always shine
           And nothing takes forever
               ‘specially, running out of time.”
—————-
“It will be a sorry day for this world, and for all the people in it, when everybody makes his moods his masters, and does nothing but what he is inclined to do.  The need of training the will to the performance of work that is distasteful; of making the impulses serve, instead of allowing them to rule, the higher reason; of subjugating the moods instead of being subjugated by them by them, lies at the very foundation of character.  It is possible to learn to fix the wandering thought, to compel the reluctant mental energy, to concentrate the power upon the performance of a task to which there is no inclination.  Until this victory has been gained, life holds no sure promise; the achievement of this conquest is the condition of future success.  No matter how splendid may be the natural gifts, unless there is a will that can marshal and command them, the life is sure to be a failure.”
–unknown

Hmmmmm, part of the answer to what I started the note with–do you think there is a lack of character?
—————-
“And not a creature exists that is concealed from His sight, but all things are open and exposed, naked and defenseless to the eyes of Him with Whom we have to do.”     –Hebrews 4:13 (AMPC)

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.”
–John McCrae (Composed at the battlefront on May 3,1915 during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium)

I’m going to break from tradition. I normally write the complete poem, “In Flanders Fields” for Veterans Day. But I’ll depart a little because I think I feel some stirring. Are there those who sacrificed and buried beginning to waken? No, not zombies, but their sleeping is being disturbed.
We had an election and some are disturbed. Instead of uniting they are showing either their ignorance or stupidity in destruction of property. It made me think of the words of Gen. Chappie James. I had the privilege of serving under his command when I was in the Air Force. General James stated,

“I’m a citizen of the United States of America and I’m no second-class citizen either and no man her is, unless he thinks like one and reasons like one and performs like one. This is my country and I believe in her flag and I’ll defend her and I’ll fight for her and I’ll serve her and I’ll contribute to her welfare whenever and however I can.
If she has any ills, I’ll stand by her and hold her hand until in God’s given time, through her wisdom and her consideration for the welfare of the entire nation, she will put them right.”

General James was a Tuskegee Airman, and became the nation’s first black 4-star general. He said, “I am, above everything else…an American.”
Another thing that is causing those buried beneath sacred sod to stir are comments that I read recently.  Such as, “You must never have faith in a nation.”  Tell that to James Stockdale, Jeremiah Denton, Robbie Risner, and other POWs.  Now, that statement is ultimately true, but those who have taken the oath of the military and serve their country better have faith in the nation.  They better have faith in their comrade-in-arms when they move through hostile territory.  Ultimate faith is in God, but if I’m captured I must have faith that my country will sooner or later come to my aid.
I don’t know if that person is just ignorant and naïve, or young and inexperienced, or just a Millennial, or just plain stupid.  Remember, “ignorance can be fixed, stupidity is fatal.”
Thank a Vet today!
“All Gave Some,
Some Gave All”

“Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.”
–John 15:13 (NASB)