My Life My Memories: Angels Have Been Watching Over Me Hebrews 1:14
The Synopsis
This Memoir was written to my family. A book of short stories, to be used to help my children make good decisions.’
Adversity can be a character builder. Poor choices can turn life into a mind field. Finding God is a game changer, and exciting when we find out He has been watching over us all through our lives.
This was my life, and my family was the most important part of all of it. There were times of childhood adventure that I wish every child could have experienced. The time of loss of my father that no child should experience due to death, or any other reason. There is no other life lived of a family member that so sets the course and character of children than their father.
From the memories and romance of the dusty trails, sagebrush, the bellowing of cattle and Domino the gray filly. To the loftiness of Horse Heaven high on Cotton Wood Mountain. Across the luscious green irrigated farm fields of Eastern Oregon.
From the sounds in a small barber shop of the buzz of clippers and the laughter of old men.
To the shadowy shapes of giant gray ships, stormy seas, and far off lands, to the roar of giant planes, and the horrors of war.
From joyful unions and the sounds of new life and family to the unraveling and brokenness of my life.
From brokenness to a new life in Christ. Redeemed, I have experienced the wonders of what God had in store for me, and my story isn’t over.
I have given you the story of my life that you might learn from my mistakes. That you might hold onto the evidence of what Christ has done for me and billions of people through the centuries.
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Excerpt
We sat there watching the flickering flames through the open stove door as the sage brush burned down. The fire cast cascades of dancing light against the old walls of the shack.
It was an uneventful night no rodents, no ghost just a hard floor. The bright morning sun was beaming through the broken window unannounced as I woke. I grabbed a biscuit and cracked the door open.
The world I saw around that little shack on Cotton Wood Mountain that morning aroused my eyes and could have only been created by the hand of God! The grass all over my perch upon that plateau on the mountain glistened like diamonds in the morning sun! A foggy mist lingered in the air like small ice crystals. The air was crisp, but there was no sound. The cotton wood trees stood like silent sentinels guarding the mountain, there grayish leaves hanging like old soiled felt from an old card table. Our horses stood on the small green grass meadow like statues frozen in time! This was Horse Heaven seen by only those who dared climb Cotton Wood Mountain into the prism of time!
Doug came out of shack and stood there in silence as he inhaled the cool mountain air. Then as if he had come under the same spell as I had he sat down on the steps as the words came from his mouth in a whisper Wow! It was as if breaking the silence would magically cause what our eyes beheld to vanish.
We walked up to where the horses quietly stood removed their hobbles and led them back to the shack and saddled them, mounted up and started down the plateau.
We had not gone more than 100 yards when I spotted some large birds moving through the foot-high cheat grass. They looked like grouse, but I knew there were none in eastern Oregon. As we approached, they started to run then they took flight just like a chicken and glided down the slope. When they did that, I knew exactly what they were. They were Prairie Chickens. A bird that pretty much was close to extinction. At one time they were very prevalent when the settlers crossed the great plains, but the great creep of civilization destroyed their habitat and birds like pheasants pushed them out. I could not wait to tell Uncle Burrell. I do not think anyone had seen any in eastern Oregon in decades.