In just a very short time it became absolutely necessary to stop and remove the truck's side-view mirrors. Had we not done so we would never have been able to squeeze between the trees growing on either side of this wilderness highway. In a place or two, I thought of smearing some grease on the outside door panels to help us get through.  Nevertheless we continued on our way, squeezing, twisting and wiggling down the trail an inch at a time and as we did so one thing became more and more obvious: there would be no turning around to go back until trail's end was reached.

We'd come to the mountain for two reasons. One, we'd heard that a rogue grizzly was believed to be in the area. He'd already pulled down some cattle at a nearby ranch; we were hoping that we might come across his trail.

Our second reason and our main one, was because it was late autumn, and when fall arrives we always hunt for our winter's supply of meat. One good moose would supply us with enough meat to last until late spring, and a black bear would provide us with additional meat as well as an ample amount of lard for cooking and baking. By rendering the fat from one bear we would get about 25 pounds of lard.  It was whiter than Crisco and my wife Kay found it to be especially great for baking. (Normally she would bake fourteen loaves of bread for us every week.)  Of course in addition to moose and bear we also tried to see that our meat supply was kept well stocked with salmon, grayling, and trout.

Usually, after bringing down a moose or bear, we would hang the meat from a tree outside our log cabin, knowing that the winter weather would keep it well preserved. Of course when doing so we always made sure that it was suspended high enough to keep the wolves and certain other critters from getting to it (and some were certain to try if it wasn't hung high enough).

Food sources such as those just mentioned kept us well provided with mooseburger, delicious steaks, roasts, and stew meat. Some of the meat, Kay and the girls would can, some of it we'd smoke, and some we'd use to make jerky. As for the salmon, there's just no finer table fare than freshly smoked salmon. It's a real northern delicacy, and when you approach almost any cabin in the fall you can smell its delicious aroma arising from their smoke house.

After creeping on in Old Blue for quite a while , it finally became necessary to leave the truck behind and proceed on foot. Heading deeper into the bush it soon became very apparent why the area was named "Bear" Mountain.  Again and again we saw Bear sign on every hand: old logs ripped apart, numerous piles of bear scat, and a number of trees with deep claw marks which are a bear's signature warning one and all to beware, because they're trespassing on his private domain.

As we continued to move ahead, we kept scouting for some recently made sign that would tell us a moose was in the area and fortunately we didn't have long to wait.  After going only a relatively short distance we discovered a clear, freshly made moose trail. It led downhill about 150 yards toward a large pond that was encircled by trees and thick brush. Checking the wind again, we quickly began looking for the most likely spot to set up our ambush. Once that was decided, we quickly and quietly sat down and began our motionless, silent vigil waiting for the animal to appear.

How long we waited I'm not sure, but finally we heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching moose. We both knew, however, that if the breeze were to shift even slightly and cause a faint wisp of scent to reach the animal, it would suddenly vanish into the surrounding bush. And so, we waited breathlessly, as the minutes dragged slowly by. At long last, the dark, bulky form of an enormous bull began to emerge from the dark shadows of the brush.

Prior to this I'd used a bow, and we'd found that one well placed arrow was more than enough to vanquish a moose, in spite of his size.  But on this hunt we both were carrying a rifle.  Consequently, it took only a moment to squeeze off one shot, and the huge beast dropped in his tracks! Quickly, we both approached the downed animal and immediately saw that it would require one more shot to finish him.

It's always sad to see such a regal giant brought down, but what's even sadder is to see the undeniable look of intelligent understanding and resignation in the animal's eyes. It's as if there is no question in the animal's mind; it knows what's about to take place. That's exactly the look that was in the eyes of the moose we'd just shot. It wasn't a look of fear.  Simply an acceptance of what was about to happen, and perhaps a certain tinge of sadness. Flint slowly stepped up, fired the finishing shot, and it was all over.

To tell the truth, I was really glad he'd taken the initiative. Now I know that some will say that's all just sentimental drivel, but we've both seen that look in an animal's eyes too many times to casually brush it aside. Anyway, believe what you will, and we will do the same. It's a matter of record that various Indian tribes felt much the same way, and often spoke to their quarry in those final moments of the animal's life, half apologizing, but also thanking it for providing them with the sustenance they needed for their family.

Wanting to dress out the kill while we still had daylight, we immediately tied the hind legs apart and began working on the carcass. We worked swiftly, and both of us felt sure that we'd be able to finish the task before nightfall. But we were wrong … dead wrong.

It came unexpectedly.

Perhaps when the wind began to pick up, growing stronger and colder, we should have realized that was a sudden ice-cold rainstorm was setting in.  Still, at first, that really didn't disturb us. A little rain would just help cool us off as we worked; but in no way were we prepared for what was to follow.

Swiftly the sky began to grow prematurely dark … no … not dark.  Black! Absolutely  black! And in the meantime a freezing cold rain started to forcefully come pelting down, and too late we both realized that we should have thrown together a hasty shelter.  But any hope of looking for a shelter now had to be totally abandoned due to the sudden enveloping darkness. There was no way that we could see to build a  shelter nor could we hunt for some natural shelter to make use of.

Up until a short time before, the day had been pleasantly warm. The Levi's that we wore, the wool shirts, our light Levi jackets, and our Stetsons had been more than adequate. Now, however, the strong wind combined with the freezing rain had rapidly soaked us to the skin, and we were beginning to shiver. To start a fire at this time was out of the question, and though only four or five yards away lay the carcass of the moose, it had become so pitch black that we could no longer even tell that it was there. When I placed the palm of my hand against my nose it was impossible for me to see my own fingers.

If only we'd had some kind of warning we could have thrown up a small lean-to, built a reflector fire, and a protective cover of birch bark as a roof to protect the fire, and sat it out. Admittedly, it wouldn't have been much, but in our present circumstances it could have made a huge difference. However … as Kermit the Frog would say, "If a frog had wings, he wouldn't bump his belly when he jumped." Hindsight is always better than foresight.

Meanwhile, an inch of cold water had already accumulated on the ground and we both knew there would be no lying down and curling up there until the storm was over. Then, almost simultaneously, we both remembered that only a few yards away there'd been a sapling lying about a foot off the ground. It was only about as big around as a man's calf, but if it would hold our weight, we might be able to sit on it to avoid having to come in contact with the cold, wet ground.

In order to find the sapling Flint and I both separated, but soon discovered that within minutes due to the howling wind and driving rain we couldn't see or hear one another. For several minutes we blindly stumbled around in the darkness before we managed to finally locate one another, and then it required a few more minutes to find the sapling. Though we didn't know it at the time, that beautiful, wonderful, matchless sapling was to be our perch, and our home away from home for the next eight hours.

All night long we sat side by side, arms wrapped around each other in an effort to make the most of our body heat. Our teeth were chattering, our bodies shivering, and from time-to-time one or the other of us would give an involuntary convulsive jerk, and then shake almost uncontrollably. I'm amazed to this day that we did not collapse with a serious case of hypothermia. I personally believe there was only one reason. It has long been said that whenever there's an accident or some other emergency, the Lord seems to nearly always protect drunks and preachers. Well Flint and I couldn't qualify for the first category, but the we did fall within the second category and I'm sure it was the Almighty's intervention that kept us from coming down with a severe case of hypothermia.

There are no adequate words to describe what it was like to finally see the darkness first begin to slowly, and very gradually fade.  And when the eastern sky at last started to barely glow with the faintest tinge of light, we each felt like shouting, but instead we prayed, and gave thanks to God that we were both alive. We were still shivering, teeth chattering, and shaking with the cold, but we'd made it through the long freezing night and we knew that the worst was over!  We also knew that soon we'd start regaining some of our body heat and be able to find our way back to the main trail.

All around us the woods were soaked, and we didn't have an ax with which to split out enough dry wood to get a decent blaze going.  Consequently, we decided that the best way to get warm would be to go to work as quickly as possible in order to get our blood rapidly circulating.  So, as best we could, we immediately went back to finishing the job of dressing out our kill, and quartering the meat.

During the process, we cut off the moose's head and placed it on a nearby stump. It was plain to see that its broad heavy antlers, by themselves, would weigh over a hundred pounds.  Each of us then began to strap a large haunch of meat to our pack-board.  Flint finished loading his pack-board first, and quickly prepared to head toward the main trail, but due to the heaviness of his load, he found that his pack straps were pressing deeply and painfully into his shoulders.  So … in order to lessen the biting pressure … he decided it would be best to use both hands to grip the straps and thereby ease some of the discomfort.  But, in order to do that, it would be necessary to leave his rifle with me, so leaning it against a spruce tree he began trudging toward the trail.

Mistake.

As he headed down the trail with his very first load of freshly killed, bloody, moose meat … (yep …  you guessed it!) he rounded a bend in the trail and there, came face to face with a big, old, boogedy bear! So what happened? Ahhh … that is another story which we'll save for another time, but, obviously, he survived his encounter.  Then, for the next few hours we made trip after trip back to the truck, each time carrying over a hundred pounds of meat.  One thing that helped keep us going was by reminding ourselves that as soon as we'd gone back for the last load we'd be free to head for home, enjoy a hot bath, a home cooked meal, and the feeling of a soft, cozy, warm bed! That would be about as close as we could imagine to dying and going to Heaven! Sufficeth to say that we both brought home the rest of the meat for our winter supply, and all winter long we enjoyed every bite of it!

Still, there is one small detail I left out that I probably ought to mention. When we had finished packing out our last load of meat, we returned to clean up around the site and to pick up the moose head and antlers that we'd left sitting behind on the stump. To our complete surprise, when we went to the stump where we'd left the huge head and antlers, it was completely bare! Nothing remained! Zilch! Nada! There was not one single trace of the large, heavy head and its broad antlers? It had completely vanished!

There could be only one possible explanation. A mighty big bear had been there ahead of us, and decided that he wanted a nice trophy to put up over his own mantle! But there's one question that I have about the whole thing.  Where was that big boogedy bear and what was he doing during the night when we couldn't see and were oblivious to everything going on around us?  We were as helpless as two sitting ducks and only a few yards in front of us lay the bloody carcass of a fresh moose kill?  A bear's sensitive nose can easily smell something like that from well over a mile away storm or no storm.

I do think that whichever of our guardian angels that were on duty that day should definitely have been given Heavenly credit for time and a half and overtime for their services on that memorable occasion.

There's one lesson in this whole thing that should not be overlooked.  Both my son and I were well acquainted with what it takes to survive in wild country. We knew how to build a quick lean-to, how to start a fire with or without matches, how to build a fire in the wettest of weather, where to find dry wood when the woods are soaking wet. how to make a firebed and sleep warm on a cold night, how to build a fire that reflects heat back into a shelter (to mention just a few). In addition to all of that we were used to being out in weather (45 degrees below zero and colder) On more than one occasion we waded hip deep in icy water with snow on the ground and ice in the river (not wearing rubber waders but only our Levis) in order to get salmon with a fire hardened spear. And always we carried with us a small survival kit with the basics for outdoor survival.

YET NONE OF OUR KNOW-HOW OR EXPERIENCE DID US ANY GOOD AT ALL.  WHY?  BECAUSE SOMETIMES THERE'S NO WAY OF TELLING OR PREPARING FOR WHAT'S GOING TO OCCUR IN OUR LIFETIME IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS.  LIFE AND DEATH HAPPEN WITH OR WITHOUT OUR CONSENT. LIFE ON THIS EARTH IS UNCERTAIN AT BEST.  SO WHAT'S MY POINT?  I'm reminded of a verse from the Bible that warns: ”Some of you say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to some city.  ‘we will stay there a year, do business, and make money.'  But you do not know what will happen tomorrow?  Your life is like a mist.  You can see it for a short time, but then it goes away.  So you should say, ‘If the Lord wants, we will live and do this or that.'”

But every one of us needs to realize that our life's circumstances can change in a moment of time.

Life carries with it no guarantees of how much time you or I have here on earth. Many a person got up this very morning with not the slightest thought that before sunset today he or she would be lying on a slab at the morgue before midnight, yet their body is lying there now.  The fact is that Statisticians tell us that this very day 250,000 people will die.

He who treats the Almighty like He doesn't matter is ignoring seven of the most important issues and questions in the Universe:

What if there truly is a God that I must someday answer to for my life?
What if the Bible really is true?
What if there really is life after death?
What if Jesus Christ truly was more than a just a man?
What if there really is a paradise world called Heaven?
What if there really is a horrible world called Hell?
What if I you end up lost forever and ever and ever?

You may be healthy today and be in a wheelchair tomorrow, and none of your skills, your connections, your conquests, your diplomas, your accumulated worldly goods can change anything. Life comes to us with no guarantees and its vicissitudes are unpredictable. We are all living on the knife edge of eternity.

Your time to seek out the truth about life and death, and to make preparation for eternity can end at any time, unannounced.

Don't wait for that moment when you suddenly feel the biting cold winds of eternity blowing, and the icy raindrops of death begin striking your body and soul. Don't wait until a darkness blacker than night, engulfs you, a darkness that will blot out the spark of your life forever.

"They just don’t know what they’re getting themselves into."

 "Those Americans will be gone, come spring."

"Can you believe they’re livin’ over there at Taku?"

"They’ve bit off more than they can chew, they just don’t know it yet."

Those were the words being circulated at the Trading Post, and in the small surrounding community.  However, time is a great vindicator, and it proved them to be wrong.  We did know what we’d bitten off; we did chew it, and we stayed until we finished what we’d come to do.  But, to be down-right frank, no one could blame them for thinking that it would be more than we could handle.

We had come from warm, sunny Florida to a tiny wilderness community called Atlin, British Columbia, a tiny spot nestled near the border of the Yukon Territory.  On arriving there, we set out to a location that required us to cross seven miles of glacier water by freighter canoe, and then shoot several miles or two of treacherous rapids, just to set up our permanent campsite.  During the winter months it was necessary to snowmobile across the frozen lake, transfer to our pick-up truck and drive another 120 miles over ice and snow to get our supplies in White Horse,Yukon, the nearest and only town.

But we did stick it out; and made the most of every minute we were there.  We soon learned, however, that many families move north into wild country every year, and a whole lot of them have little idea of what actual wilderness living really demands.  They start out with excitement and enthusiasm and can hardly wait to begin their new life in the heart of the wild!  But as time goes by, a great many soon discover that it’s not at all what they thought it would be like; and, before long their former dream home is abandoned.  They’ve packed up and  moved on to look for someplace where life isn’t such an exacting taskmaster. 

It’s one thing to dream about camping on some beautiful smooth lake, listening to the call of the loon at sunset, sitting around a pleasant campfire, looking up at the star filled night skies, and relaxing as a gentle breeze fans your cheek.  That picturesque scene is wonderful, and it’s truly a legitimate part of outdoor living, but it’s only one side of the coin.  There’s a whole lot more that needs to be factored into the real life picture than that. 

In some months of the year, and in some locations, the weather is beautiful, but it’s not always that way.  For example, if you’ve settled in canoe country, it generally means having to cross wide lakes of icy cold glacier water, knowing that should your canoe capsize in the rough waves, your chances of reaching the shoreline alive are mighty slim.  

Then too there’s portaging, another little chore you inherit when you live in canoe country.  Portaging means picking up your canoe, loading it onto your shoulders, and carrying it and then your packs over rugged wilderness trails for whatever distance is necessary.  In summer, it often requires doing it while the little black flies feast on any bare flesh they can find … and believe me … they do know how to find it.  I recall one time when they were so bad that I literally threw my canoe beside the trail, and ran at top speed to a pond where a large submerged bull moose just happened to be escaping them too.  I didn’t even slow down; I merely leaped as far out into the water as I could, and joined brother moose as a comrade in misery. 

Add to those minor discomforts the joy of being out on a trail somewhere when heavy rains sets in.  On one delightful occasion I remember all too well having to stay inside a small one man tent for three days and nights while the intermittent rain turned everything outside into mud.  About all I could do was to crawl inside my shelter, slide into my sleeping bag and wait it out.  Since that time I never travel anywhere without at least one good book in my pack, just in case.

If you’re really going to live in wild country, then make up your mind to the fact that it means taking the bad as well as the good without flinching or complaining.  It just goes with the turf, and you just have to accept it or pull up stakes and leave.  Nature has no place for whiners, complainers or wussies.  It’s not an easy life, and if you’re not tough enough to handle it don’t try pursuing it. .  Living a self reliant, independent lifestyle there’s always something that demands your time.

Winter, of course, brings its own set of work and responsibilities.  For one thing, there’s the year-round routine of maintaining your cabin’s woodpile by falling trees, bucking logs, splitting fire wood, and having to do it at times when the snow is up to your hips and the temperature is hovering near the 45 degrees below mark.  Add to that the unavoidable winter chores of continually having to obtain your drinking water.  In our own case we found that we had two ways that we could go about accomplishing  it.  One was by getting it from a fast moving stream where the ice didn’t stretch all the way across the creek or stream.  In our own particular case the creek we had to use was several miles from our cabin.  Once we got there we’d join hands, forming a human chain.  Then slowly we’d inch our way out onto the shoreline ice, attempting to get as close as possible to the swiftly flowing water.  Once there the lightest member of the family could lean out and lower a bucket into the current.  This was done very gingerly due to the danger of the thin icy crust breaking apart and dropping any of us into the swirling deadly current.  Were this to happen, the current’s irresistible pull could easily sweep a person to their death by pulling them underneath the ice.  This little chore had to be done at least once each week.

The second way to get water was by chopping a hole through several feet of lake ice so we could dip our water from there.  When finished, we’d cover the hole with spruce boughs to keep it open until our next trip.  Soon, however, the hole would shrink in size and then another hole would have to be chopped with an axe or cut with a chain saw.  I still shudder to think about having to use a chain saw for that nasty piece of work.

Each fall, about late September or early October, it was time to hunt ---- not for sport ---- but to provide meat for the table.  As a general rule I’d wait until the first snowfall making it easier to find and track game, and also because by then, we could hang the meat outside and the weather would keep it cool.  It was nature’s ice box.  By hanging it high enough  the wolves couldn’t reach it, and we’d have our own home freezer.

When we first went into wild country our hunting was done by bow and arrow until we could get a suitable rifle.  It became a regular routine to try to drop a moose and a bear to supply us with enough meat to last until spring.  Of course fish (especially salmon) were also on the menu, but moose was our main table fare.  Bear steak was also a part of our larder, (black bear, not griz).   We not only obtained meat from a bear, but one bear would also provide us with about 25 pounds of fat that we could render into lard for cooking.  It would turn out as white as snow and my wife said it was better than Crisco for doing her baking and cooking.  I also used it on my boots to soften the leather and help waterproof them.

Hunting itself is extremely hard work, but the climbing, glassing, tracking and killing, especially with a traditional bow and arrow, is only one part of the job.  After the kill is made, the really hard work begins.  It will separate the men from the boys.  Why?  Picture yourself dropping a moose miles from your cabin, and often a long distance from any trail or bush road.  (And where we were located there were no roads).  It then becomes your job to get close to 1000 lbs. of moose back home by yourself, though sometimes, if you’re fortunate, you can get together with a friend and agree to help one another with your kills.

You have only a few options as to how to go about it.  One is by strapping over a hundred pounds (or more) of meat to a stout pack board and carrying it out piece by piece using "Shank’s Mare" (on foot).  And remember, that in order to do that, it means hacking your way through brush, crossing streams, climbing over log blow downs, and slogging through whatever it takes to get the job done.  Nor did you have a lot of time to get as much meat out as you could before the wolves or other predators scented your kill and moved in to help themselves.

But there’s sometimes another way.  If you made your kill near water, you would then dress out the moose or bear, cut it into as many quarters as you can, and then pack as much as you can carry to wherever your canoe or boat is tethered.  It’s then merely a matter of wrestling as much meat on board as possible, and heading for home.       After unloading and hanging the meat, you then need to turn around and head back as soon as you can to get as many more loads as you can.  Usually, but not always, ; if you can get back to your kill within 24 hours the wolves will not have started eating it yet.  The lingering human scent holds them back from beginning to devour it right away.  Consequently, you try to make as many trips as possible,. as soon as possible.  

Option three,you make use of a dog team or snow mobile if you are fortunate enough to have either one.  The truth is that no matter which way you do it, it’s still a whole lot of work.  But it goes with the lifestyle. 

Somehow, when reality dawns on many newcomers regarding what wilderness living really requires, many of the wanna-be’s lose their desire for life in the great outdoors, and decide to return to their former 9 to 5 life, judging it to be the lesser of two evils.

Now, as I look back over those years, I’m continually struck by the striking similarity between those setting out to embark on life in the wilderness, and those who set out to live the Christian life.  Both soon learn that it’s one thing to start out, and quite another thing to see it all the way through.

It’s one thing to kneel at an altar and say, "I now repent and accept Christ as my Savior, and from this day forward I .intend to obey and follow him for the rest of my life."  The truth is, that’s the easy part, but it’s quite another thing to stay on course all the way to the finish line, never turning back, no matter how rough the road becomes.  AND THAT’S WHAT BEING A TRUE CHRISTIAN IS REALLY ALL ABOUT. 

If the truth be told, sad though it is, the majority of those who start out to follow Christ never cross the finish line.  And that undeniable fact quite naturally raises this question, What happens to those who start out but somewhere along the way abandon their former resolve to follow Christ?  Will they still go to Heaven?  Or is it possible that, in spite of having once been a Christian, they nevertheless end up in Hell?  Can a saved person ever lose his or her salvation? 

Please understand, I’m not talking about those who claim to be a Christian even though they never made a true, bona-fide salvation commitment..  Nor am I talking about those who are saved, but living only a shallow Christian life.  The ones I’m talking about are those who once made a genuine commitment to accept Christ and follow him, yet later turned back and no longer make any honest attempt to live the Christian life.  I’m talking about those who even after they’ve been chastened by God have still refused to repent.  If they die in that condition, will God still take them to Heaven? Is God somehow duty bound to grant them eternal life.  Or is Heaven only for the sincere "Overcomers", those who refuse to turn back no matter what difficulties they might be called upon to face? 

To one day enter God’s Paradise world (Heaven) does a person have to make an ONGOING effort to keep the faith and finish the course he or she once set out to follow?  Does salvation require a continued effort of obedience to God, or does it all focus on one past moment when a decision for Christ was made irregardless of how a person lives afterward?

WHAT DOES THE BIBLE SAY ABOUT IT?

YOU BE THE JUDGE

I Corinthians 6:9,10  Surely you know that the people that do wrong will not inherit God’s kingdom.  Do not be fooled.  Those who sin sexually, worship idols, those who take part in adultery, male prostitutes, or men who have sexual relations with other men, those who steal, are greedy, get drunk, lie about others, or rob ---These people will not inherit God’s kingdom. NCV

Ezekiel 38:24,26- But when the righteous turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth according all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live?  All his righteousness that he hath done shall not be mentioned; in his trespass that he hath trespassed, and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them he shall die….when a righteous man turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and dieth in them, for his iniquity he shall die. NKJV

John 15:6  If a man abides not in me he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered, and men gather them and cast them into the fire and they are burned.  KJV

1 John 1:7  If we walk in the light …the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin  KJV

John 8:51  If a man keep my saying he shall never see death.  KJV

Hebrews 3:14  For if we are faithful to the end, trusting God just as firmly as when we first believed, we will share in all that belongs to Christ.  NLT

2 Peter 2:20-22  If after they have escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, they are again entangled therein, and overcome, the latter end is worse with them than the beginning.  For it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than, after they have known it to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto them.  But it is happened unto them according to the true proverb, ‘The dog is turned to his own vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.’

Hebrews 6:4-6, 8  But what about people who turn away after they have already seen the light and have received the gift from heaven and have shared in the Holy Spirit?  What about those who turn away after they have received the good message of God and the powers of the future world?  There is no way to bring them back.  What they are doing is the same as nailing the Son of God to a cross and insulting him in public.    Land that produces only thorn-bushes is worthless.  It is likely to fall under God’s curse, and in the end it will be set on fire.

Some would say that it is impossible for a true Christian to depart from the faith, to turn back, to deny what he or she once believed.  But is that true?  God’s Spirit clearly says that in the last days many people will turn from their faith.  They will be fooled by evil spirits and by teachings that come from demons.  I Timothy 4:1

Hebrews 10:23,26   Let us hold firmly to the hope that we have confessed because we can trust God to do what he promised…

If we decide to go on sinning after we have learned the truth, there is no longer any sacrifice for sins.  There is nothing but fear in waiting for the judgment and the terrible fire that will destroy all those who live against God.  Anyone who refused to obey the law of Moses was found guilty from the proof given by two or three witnesses.  He was put to death without mercy.  Wo what do you think should be done to those who do not respect the Son of God, who loot at the blood of the agreement that made them holy as no different from others’ blood, who insult the Spirit of God’s grace?  Sjurely they should have a much worse punishment.  We know that Gjod said, "I will punish those who do wrong; I will repay them."  It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God. NCV

Unfortunately sometimes these issues surrounding salvation and grace are grossly misunderstood.  Salvation is completely and totally a free gift given to man by a loving, caring God.  "the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."  Nothing needs to be added to it.  Nothing can be added to it.  If we could work for the next 10,000 years to try to earn enough to purchase it, we would come up far short of having enough to pay the price.  The Bible plainly tells us that it is bestowed on us solely on the basis of "grace", and grace is undeserved favor.  It cannot be earned or purchased, by the recipient.  For by grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves.  It is the gift of God, NOT OF WORKS, lest any man should boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9).  There is no room for argument; that statement it is unequivocally true.

But the Bible also has more to say about salvation by grace, and what it says cannot justly be ignored or passed over.  It stresses again and again that to become the recipient of that free grace we must first meet certain qualifications.  And make no mistake about it,…meeting those qualifications must never be misconstrued as being a means of earning salvation!  Search throughout all the galaxies of the Universe and you would never find any treasure valuable enough to purchase eternal life for even one soul!  To do that it took the sacrifice of God’s only Son.  He and He alone was of the sublime value required to pay that price.  We must never overlook the fact that working to become eligible to receive a gift is not the same as paying for a gift by working .

Suppose that a wealthy man decides that he wants to pay the cost for two university scholarships.  He will give away two scholarships as free gifts to the two students with the highest grade scores on a test that is to be given.  Along with the scholarships he was including a new car and four years of room and board paid in advance for each student who qualifies to receive the gifts.  Anyone may take the tests, but only the two with the highest grades will be eligible to receive the donor’s gifts  Did the two who receive the scholarships obtain them because their good scores paid for the cost of the scholarships they received? 

While walking down the street one day a US senator was tragically hit by a truck and died. His soul arrived in heaven and was met by St. Peter at the entrance. 'Welcome to heaven,' says St. Peter. 'Before you settle in however, it seems there’s a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you.'

'No problem, just let me in,' says the senator.

'Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.'

'Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,' says the senator.

'I'm sorry, but we have our rules.'

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse, and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and dressed in evening clothes. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf, and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before the senator realizes it, it’s time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven, where St. Peter is waiting for him.

'Now it's time to visit heaven.' So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns. ' Well, Senator, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.'

The senator reflects for a minute, then answers: 'Well, I would never have thought I would say this, but even though heaven has been delightful, I think that personally I would be better off in hell.' So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

Now the doors of the elevator open, and he's in the middle of a gloomy, blistering hot, barren land. Everywhere he looks there’s cesspool sewage and garbage. He sees all his friends, but now they’re dressed in rags and picking up the garbage as they wade through the sewage that continues to fall from above. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders. 'I don't understand,' stammers the senator. 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course, and a clubhouse, where we ate lobster, caviar, and drank champagne. We were dancing and having a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable. What happened?'

The devil looks at him, smiles and says, 'Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted.'

Some years ago I spent some time looking for the fabled "Lost Dutchman Goldmine" in the Superstition Mountains of Arizona. Looking back, I can remember a saying I often heard uttered: "All that glitters is not gold." It was a saying based on the fact that a worthless ore named iron pyrites, looked a good deal like real gold, and on more than one occasion it had been mistaken for true gold.

I recall one such incident that took place in the Superstitions when a man murdered his best friend to steal his friend’s share of the gold they’d found. After hiding the body, he left the Superstitions and fled to Hawaii. Once there he hoped to convert his gold into cash and then begin to live like a king. There was just one hitch in his plan; he soon discovered that the gold he’d murdered his partner to obtain, was nothing but iron pyrites, commonly known as “fool’s gold”. In a short time after the man’s arrival he was apprehended and he soon found that the worthless fool’s gold he’d acquired wasn’t so worthless after all. It ended up requiring him to pay for it with his life.

What’s the point? Simply this: some things look really good but they’re not always what they seem to be at the moment. All that glitters is definitely not always gold.

Is there something I’m not coming right out and saying? Yes, there is.

You figure it out.

Kay was asleep in the upstairs loft of the log cabin, our three girls were all in one bed in a downstairs room, and Flint, our fourteen year old son was in his small room, under a pile of blankets, with a heavy animal hide thrown over all his other covers.  As for myself I had stayed up until almost 2 a.m., sitting close to the 45 gallon drum that had been converted into a stove.  Intermittently I sat toasting one side and then turning around and re-toasting the other side that had grown cold in the meantime. With a lantern hanging from the beam overhead I had, as usual, been reading and studying.  Finally, after replenishing the fire one last time, I climbed to the loft and turned in for the night.

Immediately I dropped off to sleep only to be awakened about an hour later. It was my son’s voice calling to me from the steps that led to the loft.  He was speaking in a hushed voice in an effort to avoid waking up the rest of the family. I heard his whispered, “Dad. Dad! Wake up, Dad.”  Quickly slipping out from under the covers I padded over to the stairway, and trying to keep my voice low, I asked, “What is it Son?”  Still whispering’ he said, “Dad, be real quiet, and come down stairs with me. There’s something really big just outside my bedroom window. It’s been standing right next to the wall where I sleep.”

Some might have thought it’s just a boy having a bad dream that scared him.  That thought, however, never crossed my mind, because I knew my son too well.  He was experienced beyond his years in taking care of himself in the bush, and in other difficult circumstances.  Nor was he skittish, or prone to get upset over something that was inconsequential. If he said something was out there, then something was out there.  The question was … what?

Moving silently, we approached his room. There was no door to open, and his bunk bed was located off to our right, in the opposite corner of the small room.  The head of the bed frame was close up against the log wall and right next to the only window in the room’s tiny space. The place where he laid his head was only inches from the window.

The window was not made of glass but consisted of two layers of clear plastic, one on the inside and the other on the outside.  They were nailed in place by a frame of one inch wide lathe.  The plastic let in any outside light but was too cloudy to actually see anything outside. As for the cabin’s log walls, they were not tightly fitted together.  To help keep out the snow and the cold the cracks were packed with chinking made of moss and mud.

One thing was sure … something was out there.  Its heavy breathing could be plainly heard, and whatever it was had to be standing right outside the window next to the cabin wall.  It had to have been only inches from where Flint’s head had been resting. It was easy to see why he had been awakened by the sound of its breathing.

At first he had laid there without moving, listening to be sure of what he was hearing.  Then quietly he had crept out from under the covers and made his way to alert me.

Things now began to happen fast.  Quickly backing out of the room, I climbed to the loft, whispered to Kay not to worry, that I would be back in a little while.  Without waiting for her reply, I grabbed my clothing, descended to the floor below and quickly began donning the necessary wool garments, boots, parka, and mittens. Dropping some cartridges in my pockets, I took my rifle from its pegs over the door and we both stepped outside.  As the door was opened clouds of ice cold air rushed into the opening, looking as if someone outside had set off a large CO2 fire extinguisher through the doorway.   My son and I rapidly stepped outside and found that perhaps two feet of snow was covering the ground.

 As silently as possible we moved toward the corner of the cabin.

Frankly, I was baffled at what we might find waiting for us. In weather like we were having most animals simply would not be on the move. As far as bears were concerned, they would, for the most part, be in hibernation, though some grizzlies do occasionally come out for a short period of time and then return to their den to continue their hibernation sleep.  As for moose, if they had been anywhere near where we were staying I feel sure that I would have come across their sign.  Besides that, they would have almost certainly have been at their winter gathering place on the far side of the mountain.  At least that would have been the most likely place to look for them ... certainly not outside our cabin. It was, of course, obvious that it had not been a wolf.  So what could it be?  We had no neighbors, nor was it the kind of a night that any man in his right man would be traveling.  And even if it had been a man, he would have sought to come inside and spend the night, not stand outside when he knew we would not turn any man away that was looking for shelter.

I had no answers that made sense. It was a weird and puzzling enigma, one for which I was anxious to find the answer.  Consequently, we wasted no time rounding the corner of the cabin, and as quickly as possible we focused our eyes on the place where we knew that our mysterious visitor would be standing.

It was empty.  Completely, and unmistakably empty.

Something large had been there all right, but whatever it was had somehow become aware of our intentions and had moved into the surrounding bush. At once we moved toward the window where it was plain to see that the snow had been disturbed.  Immediately, falling to my knees, I yanked off one of my mittens and thrust my hand into the snow, feeling for some semblance of a track, but to no avail.  Unlike snow in warmer climates, our snow is like fine powder that easily crumbles; it simply does not cling together and as usual, had left no clear, distinguishable print.

Such snow could be a blessing, or if you are hunting, a curse. We could be in snow up to our hips, yet when we finally entered our cabin, we merely had to knock the loose snow from our clothing, remove our boots and go inside.  We brought no wet, slushy mess when we entered, much to our wives relief, I might add.  Most of our cabins had what was termed a “mud room” just inside the door.  It was here that we knocked the snow off, and if the weather was warmer we would rid ourselves of the mud that clung to our boots.  Which, by the way, is why in the north, it is customary to never enter a cabin wearing shoes or boots.

Even though there were no identifiable, distinguishing tracks, it was nevertheless plain to see that something big had left a path of disturbed snow that crossed a small clearing and headed into the darkness of the thick spruce forest. So, heading into the trees, we followed the trail for perhaps thirty minutes before the biting cold drove us back to our warm cabin.  In the bitterly cold weather my eyebrows and my moustache had quickly turned white covered with frost, and I could feel the hair in my nostrils freeze up.  If I were to spit, the spittle would be frozen before it hit the ground.  It didn’t take long before Flint and I both were envying the dogs lying somewhere under their blanket of snow, warm, comfy and with better sense than to be pushing through the snow without even a pair of snowshoes.

Our uninvited guest that night never returned … well, at least if he (or it) did return, we knew nothing about it.  The following night the cold had dropped from the fifties into the lower forties (below) so once again, about 2 a.m., I slipped out of the cabin, alone this time, and spent two or three hours sweeping through the suspected area but heard nothing but wolves, and saw no other creature.  What was it that had paid us a visit that previous night?

To this day … your guess is as good as mine.

1. NAME THREE ANIMALS THAT ARE EXCELLENT TO KEEP AS FOOD SOURCES.
2. WHAT PERIOD OF TIME WOULD BE THE MAXIMUM FOR STORAGE OF GROCERY STORE FOODS?
3. NAME FOUR COMMON EDIBLE PLANTS THAT GROW WILD HERE IN FLORIDA.
4. THERE ARE TEN BASIC FOODS THAT YOU CAN PREPARE AND STORE FOR LONG PERIODS WITHOUT VACUUM PACKING;NAME FOUR.
5. TRUE OR FALSE: AFTER THE BLAST YOU CAN SAFELY LEAVE YOUR SHELTER AFTER TWO MINUTES HAVE ELAPSED?
6. TRUE OR FALSE: ANIMALS OR THEIR PRODUCTS (MILK, ETC.) WHICH MAY HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO RADIATION SHOULD NOT BE EATEN UNTIL AT LEAST ONE MONTH HAS PASSED.
7. TRUE OR FALSE. RADIATION POISONING IS CONTAGIOUS.
8. IF WATER IS IN A COVERED CONTAINER BUT RADIATION PASSES THROUGH THE CONTAINER IS THE WATER SAFE TO DRINK?
9. HOW MANY DAYS, WEEKS OR MONTHS SHOULD YOU WAIT BEFORE DRINKING WATER THAT HAS BEEN EXPOSED TO FALLOUT?
10. H OW CAN YOU USE SEVERAL PIECES OF PLASTIC, SEVERAL STONES, AND SOME CUT VEGETATION TO GET WATER?
11. HOW MUCH WATER DOES ONE PERSON NEED EACH DAY TO SURVIVE?
12. NAME TWO OVERLOOKED SOURCES OF DRINKING WATER IN THE AVERAGE HOME.
13. HOW LONG SHOULD WATER BE BOILED TO PURIFY IT?
14. NAME THREE BASIC NECESSITIES A PERSON NEEDS AFTER A DISASTER.
15. WHAT TYPE OF SHELTER SHOULD YOU LOOK FOR IN A TORNADO?
16. IF AN EARTHQUAKE STRIKES AND YOU ARE OUTDOORS YOU SHOULD STAY AWAY FROM … (NAME TWO THINGS.)
17. IF AN EARTHQUAKE STRIKES WHEN YOU ARE IN YOUR AUTOMOBILE SHOULD YOU REMAIN INSIDE OR GO OUTSIDE?
18. IF YOU ARE IN YOUR HOUSE WHEN AN EARTHQUAKE STRIKES SHOULD YOU REMAIN INSIDE OR GO OUTSIDE?
19. IN AN EARTHQUAKE, IF YOU ARE INDOORS, WHAT SHOULD YOU DO FOR SAFETY?

The answers to these questions,
"ANSWERS TO TEST ON CRISIS KNOW-HOW".

In 1543 the theory of a heliocentric solar system was published by the great scientist priest Copernicus. His theory, of course, set forth the idea that the earth traveled around the sun. In other words, the cause of our days and nights was not due to the sun traveling across the sky, but was because our earth revolved in a circle, as it traveled in a journey around the sun. As a result, a tumultuous furor was raised by the Catholic Church and Copernicus was ordered to renounce his “heretical theory” or suffer dire consequences. Since he thought it better to be a live priest than a dead scientist, he repudiated his former claims.

In 1600 Giordano Bruno openly supported Copernicus’ theory and made the fatal mistake of saying so. He was burned alive at a stake in Rome by the Catholic Church.

In 1832 the people of Lancaster, Pennsylvania took a defiant stand and forbad that their school house be used to discuss that new fangled thing called a “railroad”! In their judgment the very idea of a railroad was clearly an impossibility! And besides that they stated in no uncertain terms “if God had intended that his intelligent created beings should travel at the frightful speed of 17 miles per hour He would surely have foretold it in the Holy prophets. Such things as railroads are devices of Satan to lead immortal souls down to Hell.”

Which all goes to show that, sometimes, good, well meaning people do things that show they are dumber than a sack full of hammers!

Why don’t we use the commonsense that God has given us to garner the facts, intelligently weigh them, and think before reaching a conclusion. All too often we Christians are just as guilty as the world around us of not using our heads. We need to make sure that we do not exercise ignorance and call it faith. There is a vast difference. God never told us to put blinders on when we run into problems that challenge what we believe. Why can’t we follow the Biblical command to “test all things” before taking a solid position on an issue?

Nor are those who so critically oppose the Bible any less guilty of the same error. The attitudes of far too many Christians as well as skeptics of the Bible are a lot like the nervous captain of a ship lowering the anchor down to twenty feet, and then assuming that it must have reached bottom because that’s all the chain left on the anchor. Perhaps we would all do well to ponder the following prayer that someone composed:

“From the cowardice that shrinks from new truth,
From the laziness that is content with half truths,
From the arrogance that thinks that it knows all truth,
O GOD OF TRUTH DELIVER US."

Unfortunately, multitudes of people who look back over their lives today, find that they have garnered few memories that are even worth remembering. And the reason’s plain; they have never climbed out of the rut of mediocrity; never risked anything, never dared anything, and consequently have never experienced the exhilaration of courageously overcoming or triumphing over anything. They live their lives merely trying to play it safe, and missing out on so much of what life is all about.

Such well meaning people remind me of the fellow way back in the hills who was sitting on the porch of his old run down old shack. As he sat there, slowly rocking back and forth, a neighbor came by and started talking to him about his crops. He asked him if he’d planted any corn? The man replied, “Nope. Weather’s likely ta’ be too hot to try raisin’ corn.”
The fellow then asked him if he’d planted any tobaccy? Spitting a large gob of brown juice, the farmer said, “Nope. I ‘llowed there might be too much rain fer ta’baccy ta grow good.”
Finally, the neighbor asked him, “Since you didn’t plant no corn, an’ ya didn’t plant no tobaccy, that jest leaves one other thing. How much cotton did ja’ plant?”
The old farmer, with spittle from his tobacco juice trickling down over his unshaved chin replied, “Didn’t plant no cotton neither. I wuz a’feared them boll weevils would jus eat a cotton crop plumb up.”
Now, looking a bit surprised, the other man said, “Well then, what did ja plant?”
Dropping his chin down low, and raising one eyebrow, he squinted over the top of his glasses, and then, in a quiet, confidential tone of voice, he said, “ Nawthin …. I jis played ‘er safe.”

All too many are living their lives playing it safe, trying to experience their lives vicariously through the books they read, the TV programs they watch, and the video games to which they’ve become addicted. Millions are permitting them to become substitutes for experiencing any excitement and adventure for themselves. Anything involving risk, hardship, or daring adventure they avoid at all costs.

Such people will one day be left to wonder what it would have been like if they had pursued at least some of their dreams, risen to face some challenge, boldly attempted to do something that they’d always wanted to do. Of course such exploits usually do involve some risk, but risk is a normal part of any life worth living. Life was never meant to be lived in a cocoon. An old Indian proverb says, “If you do not enter the tiger’s den, you cannot catch his cubs.”

Someone once wrote that, “Adventure, with all its necessary wildness and risk, is a deeply ingrained longing that’s engraved upon the soul of a man. In some of us it’s been misdirected, or buried and forgotten; but it is nevertheless within us. Like a faint distant voice crying out to be turned loose, freed to live out the dreams that every man would like to experience.”

Far too many will someday be forced to regretfully ask, “Why didn’t I break free at least once, and go after my dream? What was I thinking?” Too late they awaken and realize that life has passed them by.

They’ve scarcely had even one challenging experience, one genuine adventure that’s worth remembering or worth passing on to their children and grandchildren. And the saddest thing about it is, they never even made one really serious attempt at trying to make their aspirations and dreams come true. They talked about them, imagined what it would be like to experience them, and then put them on a shelf labeled “Things I’m going to do … someday.” The years go quickly by. And then one day it becomes all too apparent that they’ve waited too long, All that they CAN do now is to fantasize about what their life could have been like.

When I lived in the far north there were so many times I heard the cries of the wild geese and watched as they winged their way overhead. Their great V formation could be plainly seen stretching across sky. It was during those years that I came across a story that was simply called “The Barnyard Goose”. I believe that nothing I can think of so aptly describes what I’ve been trying to say.

As the story goes “A flock of wild geese were flying south for the winter. As they looked down from the sky they could see a barnyard where a farmer was giving several chickens corn to eat. One goose who prided himself on his wit and wisdom, thought to himself, “What’s the use of all this flying south to get food when those chickens are getting it for nothing?” Deciding he would cash in on the windfall he told his friends good-bye. They urged him to stay with them because winter would soon be arriving.. The goose, however, said, “No.” I can enjoy the warm comfort of the chicken house and won’t have to spend all that time and energy flying south. So he stayed.

Winter came and the goose was quite happy with himself over the decision. He had all the corn he could eat. The farmer had taken a real liking to him, and the other fowls in the barnyard did not object to his presence.. How glad he was that he was smart enough to recognize a good thing.

When the spring came all was well. The earth warmed again and the breezes blew softly. Soon the wild geese began returning for the summer. The barnyard goose heard their cry as they flew over, and his nature told him to join them. With heart beating fast with anticipation to again greet his fellows in the sky, he stretched forth his wings to rise. However, to his sorrow he fell back to earth. He tried again and again but each time he slammed back to the ground. During the summer, while eating the farmer’s corn he had gotten fat and now to his dismay he found he could no longer follow the call of the wild that surged in his heart.

…..The application is clear, and the truth certain. How often we choose the easy way, only to find that eventually it robs us of the very best. We limit ourselves to the barnyard when we were created to soar in the heavens.”

I THINK MY SOUL IS LIKE A TAME OLD DUCK,
WADDLING ABOUT, IN THE BARNYARD MUCK,
FAT AND LAZY WITH USELESS WINGS,
AHH, BUT SOMETIMES, … SOMETIMES,
WHEN THE NORTH WIND SINGS,
AND THE WILD ONES HURTLE OVERHEAD,
IT REMEMBERS SOMETHING LOST AND DEAD,
AND COCKS A WARY PUZZLED EYE,
AND MAKES A FEEBLE ATTEMPT TO FLY.
IT’S FAIRLY CONTENT,
WITH THE SHAPE IT’S IN.
BUT IT’LL NEVER BE THE DUCK,
THAT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

.....The bottom line is that far too many die without ever having really lived. I have tried to avoid that mistake. Some thought it was foolish, that the barnyard was the better path to take. But now as I am about to reach my 75th milestone and I look back over the years, I thank my God for the treasure chest of memories that I have been blessed with. Would I make the same choice again, if I had the chance?
………In a heartbeat.

It is my firm conviction that every man called to pastor should make it a top priority to be the best at preaching that he can possibly be. Unfortunately, however, many men will stand in the pulpit this Sunday and fail to deliver an effective, anointed message. Some won’t even be aware of their shortcomings, and some are no longer even interested in trying to improve their speaking ability They’ve reached the point where they’re content to just do what they’ve always done. No preacher should ever be satisfied to be less than his best when it comes to preaching!

A would-be preacher was being questioned at his ordination service and the interrogator
asked him if he knew the Bible?
“Yes Sir, I shore do.”
“Well, what part do you know the best?”
“I am a serious an’ studious preacher of that there New Testament.”
“I see. And what part of the New Testament would you say that you know the best of all?”
“Wal, I reckon I bin knowin’ the story a’ the Good Samaritan the best.”
“Mighty fine. Would you be kind enough to preach a little bit for us on that there story?
“I sho nuff would be privileged to do thet. It all begins wif this here SamariTAN. He wuz goin’ down from Jerusalem to Jericho when all at oncet he fell down amongst a whole passel ‘a thorns. An them thorns done springed up an’ choked him, an’ ‘nen they tuk his gold, frankincense an’ myrrh an’ lef’ him for dead. But after three days, he done rose up, an’ verily he did come forth. An’ he backslid till he’ cum to a tree an’ he got hung up by his har in thet thar tree fer forty days and forty nights. An’ whiles he wuz there, the ravens verily did cum an’ fed him wif locusts an’ wild honey. An’ bout thet time, along cum a gal, name ‘a Dee-lilah, and she tuk a’ pair a’ shears an’ cut off his har; Now this here caused him to fall on stony groun’. An’ she sed to him, “Rise up an’ walk!” Ah’ he done riz up an’ walked till he cum to a wall. An’ Jezebel wuz a sittin’ on thet wall, an’ she mocked him. An’ he shouted, “Thow ‘er down!”, An’ they thowed ‘er down. An’ he said, “Thow ‘er down agin! An’ they thowed ‘er down 70 times 7, an’ verily I say unto you, great wuz the fall thereof. And of the fragments that remained, they done picked up twelve baskets full. An’ the queshun I wants to ask YOU this mornin’ is ---- whose wife she gonna be in the resurrection?”

To be brutally frank, I am amazed at how some people can go to church Sunday after Sunday and endure the poor preaching that they have to listen to! I have to confess there’s no way I could stand to sit there week after week and be thoroughly bored as some poor laymen unquestionably are! They truly amaze me with their enduring dedication to the Lord that brings them back week after week.

The fact is, I doubt that if some of the well meaning fellows who are doing the speaking could stand to sit under their own preaching for very long, if the tables were turned.

Now please understand, I am not down on preachers. I’ve been one myself since 1950. and so many of my closest friends to this very day are, preachers. (or were before i wrote this article!). N1either, am I wanting to sound like I am any great authority on preaching. the Lord knows that I am well aware of my own shortcomings. but, after nearly fifty-five years of preaching and of listening to a multitude of other preachers, I am convinced that there are four reasons why so many of our sermons are deader than a sack-full of hammers.

ONE - In a large number of churches there are pastors who preach on questions that no one in the congregation is asking, nor have any real need to hear. They deal with sterile subjects that do the congregation very little good. The subjects may be theologically correct, and are of obvious interest to the preacher (largely due to the reading material he’s been absorbing at the time) but mostly do very little to train, or teach their congregation about the practical problems and hurts that their people are facing in their everyday lives and the eternal issues that we all need to be continually reminded of.

The sad thing about all this is that in service after service there are people sitting in the church who are hurting and desperately in need of help, understanding, and direction. They are souls seeking answers to their perplexing problems and heartfelt needs, but instead of going home with help and hope, they are forced to leave as empty and as hurting as they were when they first walked inside the church doors. And in many of our churches it’s happening every Sunday, and yet we wonder why so many leave, never to return?

When a man of God stands to preach the Bible, he should be doing all that he can to meet the needs of his congregation from God’s word. Sometimes the occasion will call for giving answers to relevant questions and problems, sometimes it will be to teach and train the people how to perform some necessary spiritual task, while at other times, it will be to deliver a persuasive salvation message. We should make sure that we neglect none of these things; there is no viable excuse for omitting any of them.

TWO - Too, many sermons consist of very little but repetitive reiteration of the obvious and boringly familiar. It’s not that the sermon isn’t about something that’s true, it’s just that it’s a constant repetition of the same old things over and over, things the congregation is already completely familiar with , things they know backwards and forwards. It’s preaching that doesn’t give the congregation anything else of practical spiritual value. Such preaching produces Christians whose growth has been stunted. They may mutter or shout “Amen!” but the truth is their spiritual light and life drained out a long time ago.

That kind of preaching only produces the kind of church that’s described in the following blip: “During a church service a man died of a heart attack while sitting in his pew. Someone called 911. Quickly the emergency team and a hearse arrived to remove the body. Five people were carried out before they got the right one.”

THREE - In some cases every Sunday there’s an ongoing pattern of entertaining the saints with “the gospel”, It consists of mainly preaching salvation messages to a house full of the same people who have been saved for years, and all the while neglecting to feed the sheep on their very own doorstep. THERE MOST ASSUREDLY IS A TIME TO PREACH TO THE LOST, and no preacher should ever minimize an emphasis on the gospel, BUT… THERE ARE OTHER THINGS THAT ALSO NEED TO BE ADDRESSED. In my opinion the real reason so many preach a salvation message practically every time they preach is because they haven’t prayed and sought God enough to find out what He actually wants them to preach. And in many cases the reason is because the preacher himself hasn’t gone any deeper or learned anything new for years. To truly feed the flock you’ve got to have something nourishing to give them, and to do that requires prayer, ongoing study, and effort, often more than some are willing to give. (2 Timothy 2:15)

Now some, unfortunately, go to the other extreme. They apparently think that the church was meant to merely be a theological factory to parade their Greek and Hebrew exegesis in what they’d like to boast is a “deeper life institute for mature believers”. They’d do far better to recall D. L. Moody’s words to all of us preachers: “Always put your cookies on the lowest shelf where they’re within in reach of even the smallest child.”

Though the church is not meant to become a seminary in embryo, neither should it be a soul-winning station only. Scripturally speaking it should endeavor to be a place of real corporate worship, a training station to prepare Christians to go out and take the gospel to a dying world,( Ephesians 4:11-12, Matthew 28:19) and a place where God’s people can find fellowship, strength, and teaching that will enable them to deal with life’s ups and downs. Unfortunately, the God who loves them dearly, and whose Book has the very answers they need, all too often sees them leave His house devoid of what they came hoping to find there.

FOUR - Some refer to the Scripture that says, “Open your mouth and I will fill it.” and so they say, “That’s the real way to preach; just open your mouth and God has promised to fill it with the right words. All that reading and study isn’t necessary.” Men who make statements like that need to stop blaming God for their own inability to come up with something that will really feed their flock! And… by the way, the above Scripture doesn’t refer to filling our mouths with words to preach. Look it up. (Psalm 81:10). Such statements are absolute nonsense!

Nevertheless, over the years I’ve heard some reply to all of this by saying, “It just requires too much time, and study to do all of that. I have too many other things that demand my time. Besides, I’m really not sure I could ever come up with what it would take to find answers that would help meet those people’s needs. We’re all different you know, and I’m just not that kind of studious person. Plus, I’m really too busy with other things to spend all the time that would be required.”

I have only one reply to that rejoinder … HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF GETTING INTO SOME OTHER KIND OF OCCUPATION?

Of course it’s true that a preacher, especially today, has a multitude of duties and responsibilities to shoulder. but it’s also true that “Proper duties never conflict.” Sometimes as pastors we paint ourselves into a corner allowing ourselves to become too busy and instead of delegating,(or eliminating some of the load altogether) we try to involve ourselves in far more things than we should. We fall into the trap of thinking that far too many things must be accomplished right now.

Regrettably, we forget or simply ignore that wise old adage, “All things in their own time” We would do well to remember that so often the shortest way home is the longest way around. Like eating, it should be done only one bite at a time. To try to chew and swallow too much at once can only lead to choking.on which can be fatal.

“Too busy?” When I’m inclined to feel I’m too busy I find myself forced to recall the life and ministry of John Wesley. After his heartwarming conversion at Aldersgate he went across England preaching the gospel. Physically he was unimpressive, standing only five feet four inches tall and weighing less than 130 pounds. But he mastered six languages, and was thoroughly versed in theology, history and literature. With seemingly limitless energy he preached 40,000 sermons, traveled 250,000 miles (mostly on horseback) and wrote 400 books and pamphlets. His audiences sometimes numbered 20,000 which he held spellbound without a public address system of any kind. I wonder what such a man would have been able to accomplish had he lived in our day, and had our modern means of travel to utilize? With radio and television? With our up to date means of printing? And of course with the use of computers and the internet. What if he’d had all these at his disposal instead of a horse, a saddlebag containing his food, his library, a quill pen and a bottle of ink? When I read about men like him it makes me feel like a bicycle in a Mercedes Benz parade.

The least we can do when we preach is to be the very best we can be at what we’re doing.
The ministry is a calling, and one of a minister’s chief duties is to “feed the sheep”, and to “preach the word instant in season, and out of season”. It’s a major part of any pastor’s duties. It should never be belittled or considered of only mediocre importance.

The famous pastor Dr. A.J. Gordon had an unusual dream, one that he said he’d never forget as long as he lived. In his dream he was standing in the pulpit of his church and, as usual, a large crowd was present. It was a Sunday morning and the service was about to begin when a stranger was ushered down the aisle and shown to his seat. The preacher announced the opening hymn and felt strangely drawn to the unknown visitor. The man stood with the others to sing the hymn, but his eyes turned toward the pulpit and there was something in his glance that was overpowering. When he smiled, it was as if his face possessed a captivating and illuminating charm; when he became pensive, it seemed as if a cloud had momentarily passed across the face of the sun. Dr. Gordon tried hard to look elsewhere, but again and again his eyes kept coming back to the stranger. The service continued, until the message was finished and the preacher hurried to get to the door to speak with this compelling stranger. But the stranger was nowhere to be seen. He had quietly slipped away.

When the stranger once again was shown to a seat in the evening service, the minister was delighted and as before a soft light seemed to shine from the eyes of the unknown visitor. Dr. Gordon found himself almost incapable of focusing on the other members of his congregation. When he announced his text he was instinctively aware that the stranger was listening and watching intently. As soon as the service was over, the minister again hurried to the door, but once again he was too late; the visitor had left the building. This time the pastor was unable to disguise his disappointment, and turning to the deacon at the door he said, “Who was that man who just left the church?” The deacon seemed a little surprised and answered, “Dr. Gordon, don’t you know who that was?” The minister replied, “No, I don’t know Him. I saw him this morning and again tonight and I wanted to welcome him to our church, but I missed meeting him both times. Who was he?” The man quietly replied, “Pastor, that was --- Jesus of Nazareth.” And in that one electrifying moment Dr. Gordon said, “Jesus of Nazareth --- in my service – listening to me? “Oh, WHAT did I say?” And then he awakened.

From that day forward Dr. Gordon was never the same, nor did he ever forget his dream! During the following days he continually relived his memorable experience, and for the first time in his life he became acutely aware that Christ was present in every service that he preached and was listening to every sermon. That dream changed Dr. Gordon’s ministry. He became passionate in his preaching and his words stirred an entire continent! Some members of his congregation were amazed and wondered what had happened to their pastor. He was a different man.

And what about the rest of us? Should we not prepare and deliver every message with that same realization in mind? Shouldn’t all our words and service be rendered in the light of that same great awareness? Dare we declare the messages that we preach with any less passion and sensitivity than Dr Gordon exercised in his preaching? May the Lord help us all to prepare our preaching with the prayer, diligence and dedication that our high and holy calling deserves. Preaching is only one of a preacher’s duties, but it should occupy a place as one of the foremost things on his list of priorities. There is no excuse for failing to do it right and do it well.

Separately, Prime Minister John Howard angered some Australian Muslims by saying he supported spy agencies monitoring the nation's mosques. Quote: "IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT. Take It Or Leave. I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on Bali , we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Australians.

This culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom.

We speak mainly ENGLISH; not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society… Learn The Language!

Most Australians believe in God. This is not some Christian, right wing, political push, but a fact, because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented. It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.
We will accept your beliefs, and will not question why. All we ask is that you accept ours, and live in harmony and peaceful enjoyment with us.

This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you to take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE'.

If you aren't happy here, then LEAVE! We didn't force you to come here. You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted."

Prime Minister John Howard – Australia

OU’VE GOT IT STRAIGHT, MATE!

Maybe if we circulate this amongst ourselves, American citizens will find the backbone to start speaking and voicing the same truths.

Dear Lord,
In our coming election please give us a man like John Howard who has the conviction and courage to not only speak out on these matters, but to act decisively on them as well.
AMEN.

Phil McGlaughlin

So the man goes home and sees his wife in the kitchen facing the stove.  He says from the door, “What’s for dinner tonight?”
No answer.
Ten feet behind her, he repeats, “What’s for dinner tonight?”
Still no answer.
Finally, right behind her, he repeats, “What’s for dinner tonight?”
And his wife turns around and says, “For the third time ---- chicken!”

When I first read that story, my mind immediately went back to an occasion when Jesus told a rather humorous illustration about human nature, and then followed it with an astute piece of advice.  He said, “You can see the speck in your friend’s eye, but you don’t notice the log in your own eye.  How can you say, ‘My friend, let me take the speck out of your eye’ when you don’t see the log in your own eye?  You’re nothing but show offs!  First take the log out of your own eye. Then you can see to take the speck out of your friend’s eye.” (Mt. 7:3-4 cev)

Why is it so easy for us to see the personal failings, personal quirks, dumb things, bad habits (ad infinitum) in other people, yet overlook our own flaws which are often far more obvious and serious than theirs?

Now, I don’t know about you, but as for myself, I can only plead “Guilty.”

But there is one more thing that Jesus said on that particular occasion, and it does tend to dampen any “thinking person’s” inclination to be critical of others.  In fact, if we truly consider what he said, it will certainly make us think twice before being quick to judge other people.  His simple but poignant words of warning were, “Don’t condemn others, and God won’t condemn you. God will be as hard on you as you are on others.  He will treat you exactly as you treat them.” (vs. 1-2 cev)

As one old preacher once said, “Thet kind of preachin’ tends to fetch a sudden coldness over the congregation.”

• Mysterious beings of great power who live in a kingdom beyond the stars?
• An evil fiend of darkness who can assume the form of a huge cunning serpent to deceive and destroy its victims?
• An immortal King who leaves a throne in the sky to descend to earth and live in a mortal body?
• A magical tree whose fruit is capable of imparting eternal life?

Honestly now … isn’t it true that such far out tales sound more like a fiction plot from the “Hobbit”, “Star Trek”, or “Grimm’s Fairy Tales”?

Who, in their right mind, could ever accept such bizarre concepts as being accurate accounts of real events? Yet these stories are a basic part of the fabric that makes up the Christian faith? Being absolutely candid, doesn’t it appear that to become a Christian, the very first thing you’d have to do would be to assassinate your intelligence? Certainly no person with a scientific, analytical mind could ever believe such ridiculous, unfounded claims.

OR COULD THEY?

Who would you say was the greatest scientist that ever lived? It would seem that such a question would be practically impossible to answer, yet surprising though it may be … it isn’t. Among scientists today there seems to be overwhelming agreement that only one man fits the description. Einstein? No. Hawking? No. Let’s listen as the late Isaac Asimov, one of the most prolific and well informed science writers of our time, answers that question:

"If the question were, ‘Who was the second greatest”’ it would be impossible to answer but since the question is, “Who is the greatest?” there is no problem. I feel that most historians of science would declare at once that Isaac Newton was the greatest scientific mind the world has ever seen. He founded higher mathematics by working out the calculus. He founded modern optics by his experiments on breaking up white light into the colors of the spectrum. He founded modern physics by stating the laws of motion and deducing their consequences. He founded modern astronomy by working out the law of universal gravitation.” …. After Newton’s death Alexander Pope said it all in two lines: ‘Nature and Nature’s laws lay hid in night, God said, "Let Newton be! And all was light."

There can be no doubt that Newton’s powers of observation, analysis, and judgment must have been incredible! Certainly no one could accuse him of being ignorant or disorganized in his thinking. Few men could match his peerless analytical mind. It will no doubt come as a shock then, to some people, to learn that this same Newton was an outspoken, fervent believer in the Bible and in Jesus Christ. On one occasion he declared, “I find more sure marks of authenticity in the Bible than in any profane (secular) history whatever.”

Nor is Newton alone in his view of the Christian faith. Many outstanding, highly intelligent people of both the past and the present have been ardent, outspoken believers of these very things! Something they discovered convinced them that the claims of Christianity are sober, absolute truth!

Lord Kelvin who established thermodynamics as a science said, “With regard to the origin of life, science positively affirms creativepower.”

Sir William Ramsey was one of history’s most notable archaeologists. He had graduated from Oxford with a Ph. D. and was also a very wealthy man. He had been reared by atheistic parents and was himself an outspoken atheist. He’d openly declared his intention to utilize his archeological expertise to disprove the Bible. After years spent in the Holy Land, attempting to discredit the Scriptures, he produced a book that shocked the world of Biblical criticism. In it he announced that his Archaeological digs had led him to one inescapable conclusion. The Bible was true after all; he had become a Christian.

Dr. Robert Dick Wilson, formerly a professor at Princeton, was a man whose scholastic accomplishments were truly amazing. While still a student in seminary he was able to read the entire New Testament in nine different languages, and that included a Hebrew translation that he had memorized word for word! During his lifetime he actually mastered forty-five languages and dialects so that he could examine and investigate the Bible in the languages in which it had been translated. There can be little doubt that he was the world’s most out-standing authority on ancient languages of the Middle East. After forty-six years of intensive study of the Bible, particularly the Old Testament, his faith in its inspiration and accuracy was unshakable.

Dr. Werner Von Braun, rocketry and space scientist, and past director of NASA said, “{It is} as difficult to understand a scientist who does not acknowledge the presence of God … as it is to comprehend a Theologian who would deny the advances of civilization.”

Many other men and women of outstanding intellect and achievement could be cited who have openly declared their faith in the Bible and Christianity.

When we read of people such as these becoming believers, some very obvious questions come to mind. What was it that caused them to decide in favor of the Bible and Christianity? Surely men such as these wouldn’t have embraced the claims of Christianity without having found good, solid reasons for doing so? What were those reasons?

WHAT IF GOOD REASONS FOR BELIEVING DO EXIST?

Stop for just a moment and think about it. What if the Bible really IS the revelation given to man by the Creator? What if there actually IS life after death? And what if there really Is a Heaven and a Hell? C.S. Lewis has correctly said, “Christianity if false is of no importance … and if true, of infinite importance.

The one thing it cannot be is moderately important.”
In our present day age of skepticism far too many people write Christianity off without ever giving it a fair hearing. They’re under the impression that science and the Bible are at odds, and this mistaken idea causes some to reject the Bible and Christianity without ever investigating the facts.

What about YOU? Have YOU ever taken the time to honestly and fairly seek out the facts for yourself?
You can be wrong, and marry the wrong person and still get by. You can be wrong
about choosing your life’s and still muddle through. You can be wrong about the
place that you put down your roots and spend your lifetime there. You can be wrong
about a lot of things and somehow bumble through, miserable though it may be.
BUT THERE’S ONE THING YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO BE WRONG ABOUT.
AND THAT’S THE DESTINY OF YOUR SOUL.
ETERNITY IS A MIGHTY LONG TIME.

“The Prodigal” - The Cowboy version from Luke 15:11-31
By: Craig Nelson

Dad, can I have the money, that you’ve set aside for me?
My pickup truck, is loaded up, n’ there’s a world a waiting on me.
Feed ol’ Blue, and my rope horse too,
Work them, if you get a chance.
There’s just so much more, that life has in store,
Than workin’on this old ranch.

Wish my brother Jess, all the best,
And I’m glad that he’s gonna stay.
And don’t blame no one, that I broke and run,
Like some old slick eared stray.
The ol’ rancher watched, as the tires kicked up dust,
Till the wind blew it out of sight.
Then he stared a long time, at the gray skyline,
Till the day turned into night.

But that pickup rolled on, though the day was far gone,
Drawn by the cities bright glow,
To a bar in town, where the night life abounds,
And the whiskey, like a river, did flow.
Though he didn’t fit in, with money to spend,
A crowd soon gathered ‘round,
Now he had drinking pals, and low neckline gals,
Just look at the friends he had found.
That party went on, each night til near dawn,
Was just the bars and the names that changed.

Smoke and cheap thrills, wine women and pills,
He was proud of the life he’d arranged.
But too soon he went broke, with no money in his poke,
A friend just couldn’t be found,
There wasn’t one here, that would buy him a beer,
In what once was a real friendly town.
That night life sure enough, had him looking rough,
His life had gone to the dogs,

As he drug out of town, a farmer he found,
Gave him work a’feeding his hogs.
He fed them their swill, with his own hunger still,
A’gnawing at him way down deep.
‘N he thought of the hands, ridin’ for his Dad’s brand,
Well fed, with a warm place to sleep.
Through the mire it came clear, he had to leave here,
And go back to his Daddy’s land,
I’ll tell him how wrong I been, an’ if he’ll let me in,
I’ll be just another hired hand.

It took all his will, to climb that last hill,
That looked over the old home place,
Then he saw his Dad come, in a wide open run,
With a great big smile on his face!
At his feet the boy fell, in his rags and hog smell,
And cried “Father, great is my sin.”
The rancher knelt to embrace, with his heart full of grace,
The son who’d come back to him.
Bring some clothes over here, an’ kill a fat steer,
For we have cause to rejoice!

But just about then, Jess rode his horse in,
And wondered at all of the noise.
He learned from a hand, that a party was planned,
For his lost brother, just now had come.
He wanted to cuss! Why make such a fuss?
For a sinner and a drunken bum?
The rancher was grieved, as Jess turned to leave,
And went out to ask him to stay.

Jess said, all these years, of sweat and tears,
And now you treat me this way?
But the Rancher said Jess, you’re my faithful Son,
And I know you will be, till the end.
But now it’s my choice, that we should rejoice,
For your brother, who was dead, lives again.

___ Given to me by Craig Nelson, rodeo roper and cowboy preacher
___ May 2006

Someone told him that scientists had discovered a serum called Krebiozen,and that it appeared to be remarkably effective against cancer. He begged his physician, Dr. Philip West, to inject him with this new serum. Dr. West finally agreed and gave Mr. Wright an injection on a Friday afternoon. The following Monday, the astonished doctor found his patient out of his death bed, joking with the nurses. “The tumors,” the doctor wrote later, “had melted like snowballs on a hot stove.”

But the story doesn't end there.

Two months went by and Mr. Wright's condition was still excellent. But then --- something surprising occurred. Wright somehow came across medical reports that said Krebiozen had been proven to be a farce, nothing more than a quack remedy.

Immediately, the patient suffered a terrible relapse! His cancer had returned!

In a desperate effort to try and restore him, Dr. West told him not to believe what he'd read in the papers! He then injected Wright with what he claimed was “a new super-refined, double strength“ version of the drug.

In reality---- it was water.

But once more, to the doctors delighted amazement, the tumor masses melted, and Wright again became the picture of health! For another two months his startling recovery remained, and then the unthinkable happened----he read another definitive report stating that the serum, Krebiozen, was ABSOLUTELY AND BEYOND ALL DOUBT WORTHLESS!.

Two days later Wright was dead!.

NEVER underestimate the power of the thoughts you think; what you believe does exert a strange and unexplainable power in your life. As Jesus once said, “Only believe. All things are possible to him that believeth.”

I relate that story because of the principle it demonstrates. If you do NOT believe that what you pray for will happen ---- then, YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT! It won't. What you believe is what you'll get! In other words … the things we want to see changed in our lives can literally be influenced and transformed---- by changing the way we think about them.

Jesus put it this way,“According to your faith be it done unto you.” And, “Whatsoever things you desire, when you pray believe that you receive them, and you shall have them.” An attitude of expectant faith is of extreme importance.

Emerson once said, “Beware of what you set your mind on, for that you will surely become.” He was100% CORRECT. You that are taking notes ought to write this statement down and muse over it later: You are not what you think you are, but what you think …you are.

People who seem to receive an unusual number of their prayers answered are people who expect to get their prayers answered. They have a positive attitude about life. They're individuals who think, talk, and attempt things that most people their age wouldn't even think of trying.

When I was 48 years old I resigned a pastorate in Florida and our family of six stepped out on faith, sold everything we owned and drove some 3000 miles north into British Columbia. We saw one church built there, and then, once again, packed up and moved 1000 miles further up the Alaskan Highway. Near the Border of the Yukon Territory, deep in the wilderness, we pitched our tents and began our second northern ministry. It was an effort in which we attempted to reach out to the bush people (as they are called), the fur trappers, outfitters, gold miners, Indians, and families who live deep in remote areas of the wild country.

While there we were told of an old white haired gentleman who came there every year from the States. He would leave his vehicle, take a canoe and disappear into the wild country. For two weeks no one would see him. When he finally re-appeared, his canoe would be loaded with several hundred pounds of meat from the moose that he'd killed and somehow managed to pack out. The last I heard about him, he was close to eighty, and had shown up with his grandson who'd insisted on coming along to help him carry out the meat.. Again, the point I'm trying to emphasize is that some people are old at thirty, and some are young at seventy. Let me repeat my previous statement once more…“You can't measure age by birthdays. Biological time varies, clock time doesn't.”

I remember going on a canoe trip into the Quetico-Superior Wilderness years ago. One day as I was several days from civilization and paddling across a lake, I spotted another canoe in the distance with two people in it. As we drew close to one another, I was quite surprised to see an old white haired man and woman. He was seated in the stern of the craft and I couldn't help but notice that he sat straight as a sapling and paddled with powerful strokes toward my canoe. They both smiled, and we began to exchange greetings. After a few minutes of friendly conversation we wound up swapping some salt for some fishhooks, items that we were both in need of. When I asked what they were doing so far out in the back country, the old gentleman laughed and said that ever since he'd taken his bride on their first canoe trip many, many years ago, they'd been returning every year for this special time together. He said they wouldn't miss it for the world. They may have been old in years, but they were still young in heart. We parted and I never saw them again, but whenever I think of them I'm once again reminded that you can't measure age by birthdays.

It's been claimed by some that William James, was one or the wisest men our country has ever produced. He once stated what he considered to be the greatest knowledge breakthrough of his generation. He said, “The greatest discovery of my generation is, that human beings can actually alter their lives, by altering their attitudes of mind.”

He knew that once a person believes they CAN do something, the chances are good that they actually WILL be able to do it. To state it more plainly ---- what you see,--- AND expect---- is what you're going to get!

I am now approaching my 74th birthday. Ten days ago I was in a wilderness area of central Florida. It was late at night and I was traveling on a trail that led through the jungle-like swamps and palmetto thickets. Up ahead of me was a herd of about ten very wild, and ornery, mean “Russian Boars” (not the common wild hogs of Florida). In my hand I carried an old fashioned, traditional hunting bow with an arrow nocked and ready. The opportunity I was looking for finally presented itself. Working up to about ten yards from the biggest one, a 300 pounder, I managed to drive an arrow into his broad, black torso, He was able to rush about forty or fifty yards through the palmettos before dying. It was all over for that evening but I still had one day left to hunt. The following evening I was also fortunate, and was able to put an arrow into a beautiful Indian Black Buck.

Both animals have now taken up residence here in my home freezer.

Now, some would say I'm too old to be doing things such as that; I should be acting my age. What they don't understand is that I am acting my age … I'm just not looking at the the years and at ageing in the same way they are. Naturally, I don't have the body or strength that I once had, and yes, though I hate to admit it, arthritis does slow me down considerably, BUT I'm still a man. I'm alive, and I intend to live and enjoy life to the full for as long as I can. I have not surrendered in my mind, or my body to the common carica-ture of what old age HAS to be like. Have you?

I've observed many friends and acquaintances over the years who, while still comparatively young (perhaps in their late forties) already talk as if old age was right on their doorstep, and they were already feeling its effect in their bodies.. They'd accepted the idea that they were at the place in life where they'd passed their prime, and were now on a downhill slide. It was common to hear them saying things like:

“Well, I'm getting to an age now when I figure it's time to scale down… After all, ya' know, I'm no spring chicken anymore.

or

“I've made up my mind that at my age, I'm just getting too old to still do that sort of thing any more …”

or

“People my age just have to realize they've got to begin easing up and start slowing down ”

In their minds they'd started thinking of themselves as having begun to physically deteriorate with age. They'd been expecting to start ageing, to start falling apart, and people who believe and talk that way are never disappointed.The sad thing about it is ---- it didn't have to happen to them at all, at least not at that early stage of their lives.

I suppose I have what would be labeled as just a normal memory span---nothing at all out of the ordinary. But one day after reading an article that I came across on memory, I decided that I was going to set out to improve my ability to remember…and do it in spite of any so-called age barriers.

In a short time I became able to learn and recall a list of 70 to 100 things after hearing them only once. I was also able to remember and recall any 40 digit number after going over it only once. Now, make no mistake about it ...I'm certainly no memory expert, but there was one main thing I learned …memory is just like everything else; if we neglect to do anything to keep it sharp or improve it, then like any muscle in your body that you fail to exercise, it's going to grow weak.

Practically anyone can learn to improve their memory. The rub is that you have to want it enough to put out the extra effort that can help make the difference. The steps needed are not hard, but effort does have to be put forth to get results.

Of course, as we grow older there is some natural memory deterioration, but usually not to the extent that many expect. Some people believe that serious memory loss simply must happen to them…and because they expect it to happen to them…like Mr. Wright… it does. But barring serious physical problems, it doesn't HAVE to be that way.

You won't progress beyond what you have in your heart.

If you believe you cannot------ you're right ---- if you believe you can --- you're right.. Both concepts are right. In the words of Jesus, “…according to your faith be it done unto you”… “all things are possible to him that believeth”.

IF YOU THINK YOU'RE BEATEN, YOU ARE.
IF YOU THINK YOU DARE NOT, YOU DON'T.
IF YOU'D LIKE TO WIN, BUT THINK YOU CAN'T,
IT'S ALMOST CERTAIN YOU WON'T.

IF YOU THINK YOU'LL LOSE, YOU'VE LOST,
FOR OUT IN THE WORLD WE FIND,
SUCCESS BEGINS WITH A PERSON'S THOUGHTS,
IT'S ALL IN THE STATE OF MIND.

IF YOU THINK YOU'RE OUTCLASSED, YOU ARE.
YOU'VE GOT TO THINK HIGH TO RISE.
YOU'VE GOT TO BE SURE THAT GOD'S ON YOUR SIDE,
IF YOU'RE GOING TO WALK OFF WITH THE PRIZE.

LIFE'S BATTLES DON'T ALWAYS GO,
TO THE STRONGEST OR SWIFTEST MAN,
BUT SOONER OR LATER, THE MAN THAT WINS,
IS THE MAN WHO THINKS HE CAN.

February 16, 2007
Dr. Phillip McGlaughlin

There must be some reason why all this grandeur is lavished on this one spot in the heavens. The colors are of a hue found only in Orion, and are studded around the opening so that they appear as if they were a pavement of starry sand."

Astronomers tell us that the diameter of our earth's orbit is about 186,000,000 miles; the opening that stretches across the opening of the canyon in Orion is perhaps more than nineteen trillion miles!. Unbelievable though it may sound, this encompasses an area so large that our entire solar system could literally be lost in its interior. There can be little doubt that, to this day, it's one of the most baffling and fascinating areas in the heavens!

Those who now study the heavens tell us that part of the astonishing sights that Prof. Larkin saw practically defy description even today! The dazzling bursts of light that he beheld may likely have been stars in the actual process of forming. Today, when our modern telescopes are trained on that area, they reveal a display of what appears to be breathtaking, exploding, fireworks, surrounded by a virtual rainbow of undulating colors, and great rolling masses of luminous, glowing clouds. In our attempts to peer further inside, photographs reveal an area of blinding light, so awesomely bright that its brilliance outshines all the other stars combined!

What else lies still concealed within the interior of Orion's Nebula? It's something about which one can only speculate. It's no wonder that some thoughtful men and women have postulated that when our Lord returns, this vast corridor of Orion might well be the star-lined procession way through which He will pass.

Abraham Lincoln once said, "I can see how it might be possible for a man to look down on the earth and be an atheist, but I cannot see how he could look up into the heavens and say there is no God."

I agree with Mr. Lincoln except for one thing. I cannot see how any person can be an atheist no matter where he or she looks.

"Since earliest times men have seen the earth and sky and all God made, and have known of his existence and great eternal power. So they will have no excuse [when they stand before God at Judgment Day--implied] Romans 1:21

As David said, "The heavens keep telling the wonders of god, and the skies declare what he has done ... They don't speak a word, and there is never the sound of a voice, yet their message reaches all the earth, and it travels around the world…"
Psalms 19:1,4

Astronaut Jim Irwin, when sharing his experience about going to the moon, said, "When I looked out and saw the earth only as big as a little marble, I thought, how big am I? I'm just a speck of dust, if that big, when compared to the universe. And yet this little speck has the capacity to know God! To know the One Who holds the universe. To know His love and have His direction. (He then quoted John 3:16) I realized then that God loves that little blue marble …that little planet. He loves all the billions of people on it, and he loves me. I realized that my relationship with Jesus Christ was the most precious thing I had."

From Dad