copyright 1993
What follows is a true story. The comparisons are presented only for allegorical purposes, as viewed from the perspective of the people at the time and place where they occurred.
The sun was nudging it's way into the early morning sky. A breeze was gently blowing as the soldiers sadly watched two of their comrades being slowly lowered into their graves. Horses were whinnying in the distance as troubled minds mulled over the events of the night before. How could this have happened again? How had the Indians gotten onto the Fort? If something could not be done, which one of them would be next?
The young prideful Lieutenant watched as the Old Timer trembled with grief. The Old Prospector loved these young men, and the others who had been killed in recent weeks. Why would they not listen to Him?
The Lieutenant also had tender affections for his soldiers. Was it his fault the Indians had enter the Fort? Should he have listened to the Old Timer? As conviction and regret flooded into his soul the questions tumbled through his mind, which now plagued the others. Was the Fort safe? Should they abandon it for the nearby hill? Should they retreat to the valley below?
The young Lieutenant turned and stepped toward the Old Timer. The time had come. Would he and the others remain prideful and stubborn and eventually perish? Would they turn to the one who had the experience, knowledge and wisdom? The one who could help them to make the changes necessary which were so absolutely vital for the survival of the Fort, and ultimately themselves.
As a child growing up in the deserts and mountains of southwestern New Mexico and southeastern Arizona, I had the privilege of being part of a family who spent a great deal of time out in God's nature exploring the many wonders there.
It was also my privilege to have been exposed to the three cultures which are a part of that area. The most important of these was that of the American Indian. Many stories were told of historical events that occurred as these noble people struggled for their survival, and that of their culture.
Not far form the town of Deming, New Mexico, about eighteen miles to the Northeast stands the remains of an old fort, Fort Cummings. The fort was built in the eighteen hundreds for the opening of the frontier and protecting settlers, from hostile Indians.
As a child and again as a young man and still later as a parent sharing these precious experiences with my own children, I returned to the old fort. These experiences would in later years be used by my God as a precious object lesson. These helped me through a life experience in which Satan would seek to destroy my salvation.
The path that has led me into the full time service of my God is strewn with the debris of many not so very wise choices. As a "Nominal Seventh-Day Adventist" my Christian experience was very shallow. It seemed I would gain a step and then lose two. For the most part, I felt that I was only responsible for what I knew instead of what I could know. My God loved me too much to leave me in that condition. Thus after many painful experiences I have learned that every difficulty that presents itself is a precious gift from God. My God has made something beautiful out of every apparent disaster. This has taught me to view these experiences as nothing less than opportunities for character development.
One morning very early I was discussing just such an experience with my Father. As I prayed about this I drifted off into a not quite asleep state. I began to recall the details of my visits to the old fort, and the stories that I had read or which had been told to me. I remember asking my Father why I had recalled this and what it had to do with my present dilemma. He mercifully answered that request. It is my prayer that what follows will help you to deal with any character building experiences you may have.
When Fort Cummings was being built a young Lieutenant who had graduated from West Point was put in command. He had a degree in engineering and thus felt qualified to accomplish the task. During the construction of the fort, an Old Prospector wandered in from the nearby mountains. As the Old Timer watched, and when construction reached a certain point He was compelled to present some essential suggestions to the young Lieutenant. The Lieutenant scoffed at the Old Timer telling Him "What could an old man tell me about engineering?", as he proudly glanced at his degree.
The Old Timer humbly withdrew, his concern growing with each passing day. He watched pride, ignorance and rebellion create a circumstance that would someday be paid for by the blood of some of his companions.
Not long after the fort was completed, the arrogant Lieutenant made some very unwise decisions that started the Apache Indian Wars. Just a little courtesy and patience could have avoided the death of many people. The result of those rash actions, travel and living became very hazardous throughout the Southwest.
Sometime later a strange and frightening thing happened. As the guard was being changed one morning, it was discovered that two of the soldiers had been killed during the night. A search was made for the intruders but none were found. It was then discovered that along the west wall in the northwest corner of the fort a very large hole had been neatly cut.
The walls had been constructed with adobe block made form dirt, straw and water, shaped and dried in the sun. The wall's thickness was approximately two feet. It's height, twelve feet.
All were shocked to discover that the supposedly ignorant savages, would have the technology to do so much damage so quietly and neatly.
As time passed this incident repeated itself until the events developed, mentioned at the beginning of the story. The Lieutenant realized that perhaps the Old Timer might know something that could make the fort secure and prevent further loss of life.
I have stood with my two daughters viewing the graves of those soldiers on that wind swept hill overlooking the remains of the old fort. I have experienced the grief of those on that long ago day as we read the epitaphs. I have drunk from the cool water of the spring in the valley below. I have felt disheartened as I faced the hot, dry, dusty hike back up to the fort.
The Lieutenant humbled himself and gently asked the Old Timer what He might know about how the Indians were breaching the security of the fort. The Old Timer only said, "follow me." He left the hilltop graveyard and went into the fort where He had left His mule and tack. He pulled a long length of rawhide rope from His pack and headed toward the gate. He passed through the gate and turned to the right around the southwest corner of the fort. He stopped to pick up a stick one foot long and about the size of His thumb. He tied knots along the length the rope every few inches and then tied the stick to one end. A little further He picked up a double hand sized rock and tied it to the other end. Reaching the place where a section of the wall had been cut out the night before, he gently tossed the rock over the wall holding onto the stick. At this point He streaked His arms over His head, the weight of the rock pull the rope with the knots over the top of the wall. He then slowly pulled the stick down toward the ground bringing the rope with the knots over the wall toward him. He repeated this process and each time a trail of dirt fell at His feet. It did not take long for everyone to see how the Indians were getting into the fort.
Amazement turned to horror as all present realized how easy it was for their pride of engineering accomplishment to be put to naught. Frantically the Lieutenant asked the Old timer if He knew how this could be prevented. The Old Timer nodded and stated very humbly that the top three courses of the wall should be removed. When they have done this, they needed to replace each course. This time as they put the mortar in place they needed to insert finger size sticks at irregular intervals not leaving any gap. It took several days to accomplish this task. When they had finished, no other lives were lost inside the fort.
As I lay in my half-asleep state I again asked my Father what this meant and how this could apply to my present character building experience. It was at this time that He allowed me the privilege of seeing how the events of this portion of history could be applied to my relationship with Him, my relationship with others and my relationship to His Church.
As my understanding began to unfold, I could see the parallels between each event in this experience and that of the Christian walk. I could see how the fort represents God's plan of salvation as nurtured by "His Church." I could see how the top three rows of block could represent the following, His Holy Word; the Bible; His Book of Nature; and the lesser light, the Spirit of Prophecy. I could see how the Old Timer represents God the Holy Spirit. I could see how the Lieutenant represents me. I could see how the graveyard represents the judgement for myself and those whom I do not minister to appropriately. The spring in the valley below represents the pool of worldliness. The longer you stay at the pool and the more you drink, the harder it is to muster the will power to start the journey back to the safety of the fort. I could see how the rawhide, stick and rock represent compromise. I could see how the sticks in the mortar represent the standards of our faith; order, dress, diet, movies, reading, jewelry, marriage, tithe...etc. The blocks represent different levels of the structure of Gods Church, the vehicle He has chosen to carry His plan to a dying world.
How do we support our God's Fort?
Each Military organization is divided into smaller units. The smallest unit is the individual. For the larger units to be effective, the individual must be educated, trained and disciplined.
You and I are the smallest unit in our Lords army. For the Fort to function effectively we must be educated (an intellectual awareness). Trained (hands on, how to apply the knowledge). Disciplined (willing to be educated, trained and compliant to the standards that we have learned and experienced).
I realized that I need not compromise on any point of faith. If any area of my Christian life is not protected by the standards, the enemy would have that degree of access to cut through my relationship with my Creator. This would deprive me of my rightful heritage as a son of the Almighty God.
I have heard that it was an old Jewish custom to use the salutation, "Breathe Deeply." This simply means to breathe in the word of God through study and meditation and to breathe out prayers and praises. Prayers to God giving thanks for His love, praises to others about what He has done for us. This is our responsibility. If we fail here...... we fail.
C. Dale Ruebush is the president of International Health Education Institute. We have been in operation since 1993. It is our goal to share information which will help others live a healthier, happier and more fulfilled life. We believe that the vast majority of misery in the world is caused by poor lifestyle choices. These choices are often precipitated by ignorance of the needs and functions of the body, mind and soul.
It is our belief that we do not inherit disease, so much as we inherit lifestyle. As a particular lifestyle is passed from generation to generation, the greater the likelihood that the diseases associated with that lifestyle will manifest themselves more and more severely.