THE FOREST OF THE DEEP FETCH

¶ Though the snow has not yet fallen, the frosty breath of my Steed does attest to the fact that the temperature has. Winding through the mysteries of the Old Growth Forest that I knew back in my younger days as The Forest of The Deep Fetch, my Steed and I, in awesome wonder, do gently lace our way through, amongst, and beneath the Venerable Old Giants of days gone by, out of whose hallowed heights burgeoning boughs, like massive arms, reach up into the winter sky above displaying what can only be described as an ancient yearning for their Creator, for their roots do run deep.  High up in their windy spires, in the grasp of the finer fingers of the younger little spindles and branches of these deeply rooted massive Old Timers bedwells the mounting expectation of a celestial adornment to come; Christ the King. To these Stately Wonders, the Majesty of a Heavy Winter Snow is but a Harbinger of the far Greater Wonder yet to come.  With Great Expectations, they spend their entire lives in yearning for the Second Coming. They consider everything prophetic, from the slightest summer zephyr to the heaviest winter snow. Oh, how these Gentle Giants do yearn for His return, and when in the restless throes of a tempest, they are a sight to behold. Is it any wonder why I do enjoy their company so?

¶ However, between Thanksgiving Day in that Lodge hidden in the Forest of the Deep Fetch and the Celebration of the Virgin Birth of Jesus Christ, the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, there is a lengthy stretch of Ruthless Roman Road that runs right through the Wilds and the Woolies of Humanity that I must navigate, and from what I understand, it is one of the favorite haunts of the Bushwhackers of the Souls of Men, where souls are taken captive and caged in Religious Structures made by the hands of men who, with great swelling words, religious programs, condemnation, theatrics, and Grammy award-winning oratory skills convince the unaware that, “If they simply ‘Repeat After Me’,” they have been Saved from the wilds and woolies of the Evil One, and that “No Matter What”, nothing can snatch them from below. And that they have, indeed, attained eternal fire insurance and that no matter how they live their lives as long as they remain $omewhat faithful to the “$tructure” that encages them, they are  “Once Saved, Always Saved”. Oh, yes, for some strange reason they hate the Spirit of God and those who are in “Possession of the Evidence” of such a “Treasure”.

¶ From there, the Old Roman Road runs down through the bottoms, or should I say the dregs, winding around and through another massive organization known as the ‘NicoTarians”, where they teach the doctrine, “NOT TO WORRY” about the “FLESH” for it’s the “SOUL” that Jesus came to “SAVE”. They say that, He knows you’re just an “OLD SINNER SAVED BY GRACE” and that you can’t help sinning and that He “SO LOVED THE WORLD” that He went and SAVED the “Whole Ball A Wax” and that if your still troubled you can head on down to the NicoTarian Honky Tonk and wash away your worries, for it is but a short distance from the church and easy to find, for it is quite difficult to differentiate between the two for they are identical. Notwithstanding, just around the bend and over a hill or two that Old Roman Road runs out through, what seems to be endless desert flats, not unlike Death Valley, where there are a blue jillion denominations, and none of ’em like each other. I could go on, and I do intend to, but honestly, if there was a shortcut through Nineveh, I’d take it.

¶ It seems as though the main theme running through much of what I must negotiate to get to that City Not Made By Man, goes like this;

They’re rioting in Africa,

They’re starving in Spain,

There’s hurricanes in Florida,

And Texas needs rain.

The whole world is festering

With unhappy souls,

The French hate the Germans

The Germans hate their foes.

Italians hate Yugoslavs,

South Africans hate the Dutch,

And I don’t like anybody

Very much.

Yet they claim Christ!

¶ Now, not to the point of Sweating Great Drops of Blood, yet in the dire straits of my own human perplexity, with my head in my hands, and my heart in a quandary from considering the tangled mess that’s up ahead, I strongly pondered lingering here for the duration amongst these Great-Hearts of Old, for among these Venerable Old-Timers a man my age certainly does feel at Home, and somewhat younger. Why the thought even occurred to me that If I linger long enough perhaps I might take root and become one of them, for these Old Oaks of Righteousness are not only splendid company, they are, as the Truth has it, the Planting of the Lord.

¶ Oh, Deep in the Fetch of an alternate plan was I, when my thoughts were interrupted by a loving, gentle, warm, yet Powerful Voice within me saying, “WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?” “What about the children and all those bewildered and hungry souls that have not yet met Me?” “Have I not taken all that is of My Father and given it to you?” “You now know, full well, that what I have given to you came from My Father, and We gave you Our All, Yes, We even gave you our Spirit” “Now is it not up to you to take what I have given to you and distribute IT (the Word of God in which lies Eternal Life in the Good News of Jesus Christ Who was the Sacrifice for your filthiness) …is it not up to you to take the TRUTH OF THE MATTER out amongst the Heathen and all those threatened by Religious Harriers and held captive by the Religious Harlot? Furthermore, You let Me be the Judge of who comes in and who does not.” “For whoever I call will come and whoever I choose will enter, and even though many are called, few are chosen (ponder that one), nonetheless, none will be lost except for the Sons of Perdition who love the World and the wickedness of it. Now learn this well, the Harrier, the Harlot, and the Heathen alike will hate you with the same perfect hatred with which they did hate Me.” “As My Father sent Me into the world for you, you must head on out down that rough and ruthless Roman Road for the sake of those who have not yet heard the Good News, and I will follow you with Signs and Wonders, for it is the Holy Spirit alone that will touch the hearts of many meek and brokenhearted souls – and when it’s all said and done – I will meet you on the Road to Emmaus to take you to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, where, for starters, We will dine for seven years at a celebration you have never seen the likes of.” (John Ch. 17, Luke 24:13, Mark 16:20, Revelation 19:9, ¹wcv&²)

ANY OL’ TIME  ©Will Callery

My Father told me He could not lie,

He gave me His Word, It is written on high.

He told me, son, that River is Mine,

And you can drink from that River

Any Ol’ Time

 

My Father said, son, you are My own.

He gave me His Word, It is written in stone.

I will never forsake you, never, never, leave you alone

You are under His Blood, bone of His bone.

 

He found you layin’ by the side of the road.

He scattered the wolves, He carried you home.

Everything that I have, son, it is yours

But you’ve got to go back into the midst of those wolves.

 

My Father said, son, I have Another

When I gave you My Word, you gained a Brother

A Kinsman Redeemer, A Warrior King,

He will deal with those wolves,

You just bring in My sheep.

 

Through that Cross over yonder to that River that flows

From the Throne of your Father to all those dry, thirsty souls,

He is the River of Life, He is the River of Delights,

And you can drink from My River

Any Ol’ Time.

 

You will look high and low through Heaven and Earth,

Through the mysteries and wonders of My whole universe,

No danger, no death, No devils, no goons,

Will you find anywhere on My fine Afternoon.

In that CITY Not Made By The Hands Of Man.

 

{Any Ol’ Time ©Will Callery /©wcpub}

Twenty-three days out and eight to go.  I am once again looking forward to that Lodge in the Wilderness where I might, like before, find fellowship for this wayfaring man and his winsome woman amongst our Kindred Kind, for my “Iron” does indeed need sharpening and my wits warmed, for unless they are, I fear, my “iron” may grow dull and my “countenance” cold. (Proverbs 27:17, ¹wcv)  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, “WE NEED THE LORD AND WE NEED EACH OTHER”. 

One Old Oak of Righteousness does not make a Forest.

THE KINGDOM OF GOD by Will Callery / ©William & Cynthia Pub. Co. / ©2008 BMI / Pete’s Productions

 

¹wcv / My Emphasis, My Version  {Always taken from the Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, and Arabic translations, definitions, and connotations}

² / My Insert(s)

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Letters From Over Yonder, The Deep Fetch, The Covenant, & Ain’t It So are published by William & Cynthia Pub. Co. ©2023.

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