My Father was a soldier. He was actually in the Army/Air Force, which were a branch of our military until higher powers saw a need for change and the Army became our ground troops. I began to think about the women I have served through the years and thought it would be a viable subject of consideration to share with you.
In 1967, GayNell moved to Uvalde, Texas to serve a church no one knew was there. It was a fairly new structure, a very pretty red building that had more bats in the belfry then we had people in the pews. One Sunday night they decided to join us, ladies were ducking their heads under the pews. Just imagine me with a mop swinging at their intrusion with the youth shouting, STRIKE ONE, … STRIKE 15. It is hard to hit a flying mammal with radar and the kids will never forget that riotous service. I am sure they laughed with their families all the way home that evening and still laugh about it today, when they think about it.
In 1967/1968, the population of Uvalde was 15,257. It was eighty miles from San Antonio and 80 miles from Del Rio, Texas on the border of Mexico. Thirty-eight miles from Uvalde, there was a small town called Camp Wood. I found out there was an empty church building that had not had services in it for 20 years. It was right smack-dab in the middle of town. In a few weeks, we approached the owner of the Hotel who was the custodian to the church and we started services on Thursday Evenings. The proprietor of the Hotel also was an old time Pentecostal Believer, and she was the caretaker of the church. I loved it and the people were the salt of the earth.
Now this was in 1967 and one of the men who came to worship with us had been a soldier in World War I. I remember the first time I saw him. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of kaki's and a long sleeve dress shirt. He had some stories held away in the deafness of his life. It was in the teen years of the turning of the century. A violent influenza had swept across America, and as a result of this plague thousands died. It was after the war. Many were left with the aftermath of sicknesses. The proud soldier that was left deaf as a result of its impact on his life. It is hard to believe but when you think about it, WWI had only been fifty years before. He walked like a soldier; with his shoulders back, and his head held high. We communicated the best we could with him, talking with our hands and in his heart he had the scars of war.
In the early 60's I worked with many who had fought in World War II, these guys loved our country. One of them -- Jim, had stormed the beach at Normandy. Jim had glaucoma and he bore painful memories of those years and the thousands losing their lives around them.
I had cousins, an uncle, and neighbors that fought in WWI and WWII, along with some who fought in Korea and other lesser conflicts around the globe, fighting for democracy and freedom. My Uncle Gene Britt was taken as a prisoner of war in Germany and marched across Germany in the bitter cold of winter.
One of our friends would disappear from our jobs for a few weeks and you would wonder where he went, but when he came back to the job, he didn't talk. In confidence he would tell my uncle that he was a mercenary and had been down in South America fighting Communist influencers.
I had second twin cousins that had served in the military and they were men who had P.T.S.D. That is not what we called it back then, nobody did. We called it shell-shocked. I had friends that served in VIETNAM, in different aspects of the war. Some were pilots, others were nurses, but the broader scope in those days made us all feel like we owed something to the men and women who have served us.
When I read the Bible, I read it with these life experiences in mind, and as I do, I think about those in the present conflicts that are going on at this moment in real time in other time zones. It is real to me. As we pray for those in military service caught up in conflict in the middle East, I pray where I can almost feel the missiles flying overhead, hear the explosions, feel the buildings rattle, watch families hurrying to the safety of bomb shelters and hear the weeping of families who have lost loved ones.
May God teach us to pray, because when it seems the calendar of heaven is on it's toes in regards to the players who are on front page of the end-time gazette, we need an awakening to pray. History has a way of repeating itself.
A woman in Paris wrote in her diary years ago, "Nothing of significance happened in Paris today." In fact it was the very day they stormed the Bastille. When I learned how to type, I typed this line hundreds of times:
"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country." "NOW IS THE TIME FOR ALL GOOD MEN TO COME TO THE AID OF THEIR COUNTRY." Here we are again.
Larry Norman wrote these words below two and a half decades ago:
I was in the Atlanta Airport one afternoon on the way home from a ministry trip and the announcer came on the inner-com and announced the transfer of the remains of a fallen soldier in the very terminal and gate where I was waiting for my flight home. Everything stopped, I stood with people looking out the window when the widow and his family stood on the tarmac and received the body back to American soil. There was a forced reverence, a solemn respect for the price that had been paid on foreign soil. He was more than a body bag, more than a toe tag and more than just a number, he was an American hero and I for one have never forgotten them.
There was another battle another day, where the precious blood of Christ was shed. Some may ask what made His blood so precious?
Have you been watching the way in which God is reaching men on the 7 mountains of influence? A transformation is taking place in the hearts of men and women around the earth. I am reading on a daily basis how even in some cases, He is revealing Himself to people groups, "God is not willing that any man should perish but that all should come to repentance."
Always remember, "God watches over His Word to perform it".
HIS WORD IS CHASING ME TODAY AS WE MOVE FORWARD INTO TIME, AFTER THE RESURRECTION SEASON, 2026.
HE IS ALIVE!!!!!
I LIVE WITH RESURRECTION HOPE I LIVE WITH BLESSED ASSURANCE
I LIVE WITH HIS PROMISED RETURN
I LIVE VICTORIOUSLY IN THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB THE BATTLE IS THE LORD'S
IT IS A JOY TO SERVE YOU,
Pastor Cleddie Keith
In 1967, GayNell moved to Uvalde, Texas to serve a church no one knew was there. It was a fairly new structure, a very pretty red building that had more bats in the belfry then we had people in the pews. One Sunday night they decided to join us, ladies were ducking their heads under the pews. Just imagine me with a mop swinging at their intrusion with the youth shouting, STRIKE ONE, … STRIKE 15. It is hard to hit a flying mammal with radar and the kids will never forget that riotous service. I am sure they laughed with their families all the way home that evening and still laugh about it today, when they think about it.
In 1967/1968, the population of Uvalde was 15,257. It was eighty miles from San Antonio and 80 miles from Del Rio, Texas on the border of Mexico. Thirty-eight miles from Uvalde, there was a small town called Camp Wood. I found out there was an empty church building that had not had services in it for 20 years. It was right smack-dab in the middle of town. In a few weeks, we approached the owner of the Hotel who was the custodian to the church and we started services on Thursday Evenings. The proprietor of the Hotel also was an old time Pentecostal Believer, and she was the caretaker of the church. I loved it and the people were the salt of the earth.
Now this was in 1967 and one of the men who came to worship with us had been a soldier in World War I. I remember the first time I saw him. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of kaki's and a long sleeve dress shirt. He had some stories held away in the deafness of his life. It was in the teen years of the turning of the century. A violent influenza had swept across America, and as a result of this plague thousands died. It was after the war. Many were left with the aftermath of sicknesses. The proud soldier that was left deaf as a result of its impact on his life. It is hard to believe but when you think about it, WWI had only been fifty years before. He walked like a soldier; with his shoulders back, and his head held high. We communicated the best we could with him, talking with our hands and in his heart he had the scars of war.
In the early 60's I worked with many who had fought in World War II, these guys loved our country. One of them -- Jim, had stormed the beach at Normandy. Jim had glaucoma and he bore painful memories of those years and the thousands losing their lives around them.
I had cousins, an uncle, and neighbors that fought in WWI and WWII, along with some who fought in Korea and other lesser conflicts around the globe, fighting for democracy and freedom. My Uncle Gene Britt was taken as a prisoner of war in Germany and marched across Germany in the bitter cold of winter.
One of our friends would disappear from our jobs for a few weeks and you would wonder where he went, but when he came back to the job, he didn't talk. In confidence he would tell my uncle that he was a mercenary and had been down in South America fighting Communist influencers.
I had second twin cousins that had served in the military and they were men who had P.T.S.D. That is not what we called it back then, nobody did. We called it shell-shocked. I had friends that served in VIETNAM, in different aspects of the war. Some were pilots, others were nurses, but the broader scope in those days made us all feel like we owed something to the men and women who have served us.
When I read the Bible, I read it with these life experiences in mind, and as I do, I think about those in the present conflicts that are going on at this moment in real time in other time zones. It is real to me. As we pray for those in military service caught up in conflict in the middle East, I pray where I can almost feel the missiles flying overhead, hear the explosions, feel the buildings rattle, watch families hurrying to the safety of bomb shelters and hear the weeping of families who have lost loved ones.
May God teach us to pray, because when it seems the calendar of heaven is on it's toes in regards to the players who are on front page of the end-time gazette, we need an awakening to pray. History has a way of repeating itself.
A woman in Paris wrote in her diary years ago, "Nothing of significance happened in Paris today." In fact it was the very day they stormed the Bastille. When I learned how to type, I typed this line hundreds of times:
"Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country." "NOW IS THE TIME FOR ALL GOOD MEN TO COME TO THE AID OF THEIR COUNTRY." Here we are again.
Larry Norman wrote these words below two and a half decades ago:
"Life was filled with guns and war!
And everyone got trampled on the floor
I wish we'd all been ready
Children died, the days grew cold
A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold
I wish we'd all been ready
There's no time to change your mind
The Son has come and you've been left behind
A man and wife asleep in bed
She hears a noise, turns her head, he's gone
I wish we'd all be ready
Two men walking up a hill
One disappears and one's left standing still
I wish we'd all been ready
There's no time to change your mind
The Son has come and you've been left behind."
And everyone got trampled on the floor
I wish we'd all been ready
Children died, the days grew cold
A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold
I wish we'd all been ready
There's no time to change your mind
The Son has come and you've been left behind
A man and wife asleep in bed
She hears a noise, turns her head, he's gone
I wish we'd all be ready
Two men walking up a hill
One disappears and one's left standing still
I wish we'd all been ready
There's no time to change your mind
The Son has come and you've been left behind."
I was in the Atlanta Airport one afternoon on the way home from a ministry trip and the announcer came on the inner-com and announced the transfer of the remains of a fallen soldier in the very terminal and gate where I was waiting for my flight home. Everything stopped, I stood with people looking out the window when the widow and his family stood on the tarmac and received the body back to American soil. There was a forced reverence, a solemn respect for the price that had been paid on foreign soil. He was more than a body bag, more than a toe tag and more than just a number, he was an American hero and I for one have never forgotten them.
There was another battle another day, where the precious blood of Christ was shed. Some may ask what made His blood so precious?
- In the first place, God did not have blood. He said, "A spirit has not flesh and bone, as you see me have." But he made no reference to the blood, did he? Therefore because the blood was His, His blood was precious."
- Then His blood was precious because it was shed for us. I love the verse that earmarks its value. "This is the blood of the New Covenant, SHED FOR MANY." For His blood to be precious to us, it had to be shed for us. In the early church there were those who believed in his humanity but denied his deity and their were those who believed in His deity that denied his humanity. Do you realize that if He had not consented to His crucifixion, nobody would have been able to kill Him? He came to give His life a ransom for many. Oh Precious is that flow that washes, white as snow, no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.
- Finally, His blood is precious because of what it accomplished and is accomplishing. Have you ever stopped to meditate on his words, "Come ye after me and I will make you?" My friend He is still doing it, making mighty men out of reprobates.
Have you been watching the way in which God is reaching men on the 7 mountains of influence? A transformation is taking place in the hearts of men and women around the earth. I am reading on a daily basis how even in some cases, He is revealing Himself to people groups, "God is not willing that any man should perish but that all should come to repentance."
Always remember, "God watches over His Word to perform it".
HIS WORD IS CHASING ME TODAY AS WE MOVE FORWARD INTO TIME, AFTER THE RESURRECTION SEASON, 2026.
HE IS ALIVE!!!!!
I LIVE WITH RESURRECTION HOPE I LIVE WITH BLESSED ASSURANCE
I LIVE WITH HIS PROMISED RETURN
I LIVE VICTORIOUSLY IN THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB THE BATTLE IS THE LORD'S
IT IS A JOY TO SERVE YOU,
Pastor Cleddie Keith