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This is my new blog. That sentence implies that I had an old blog. (No, I won’t tell you where it is, but I will repost some of the better articles.) So why make a new one?


Several months ago I had a spiritual revelation.  A revelation that left me a changed man.  As such I couldn’t continue my old blog; I don’t believe in erasing the past, but there was too much stuff on the old blog that I’m just not proud of anymore. Things that I don’t think honor him.


The purpose of this blog will be to share my views on The Most High, to chronicle my adventures, to provide (occasional) political commentary, and to encourage others: other believers; other preppers; other libertarians; other people of the gun; other people who are searching for answers.

Exodus 2:22 And she bare him a son, and he called his name Gershom: for he said, I have been a stranger in a strange land.


As I implied above, the name of this blog is taken from two sources: Wayfaring Stranger, a song which I have always enjoyed and which I feel describes my journey here & Exodus 2:22, a verse that I paraphrased during my spiritual awakening without even realizing it was from The Bible.


My friend, Pastor Joe Fox, invited me to go on a camping trip with him.  I met Joe through a company he owns, Viking Preparedness; He was cosponsoring this gathering with Pastor Charles Dowell of Straightway Truth Ministries and they needed someone with a medical background to help them.


I agreed, not knowing full well what I was getting into.  I spent a week in Tennessee with the pastors and 150 others, some believers – some preppers, many both.  Being surrounded by The Saints of Straightway was an eerie experience; they are the nicest, most giving people that anyone could hope to meet.  So nice that, at first, I didn’t know what to think of it.


As our time waxed short I grew more and more comfortable, so comfortable that I didn’t really want to leave. The last day of the gathering was a Saturday.  The day which The Saints celebrate as the biblical Sabbath; at the time I didn’t worship on the seventh day, I had been raised to believe that was a Sunday occurrence for Christians, but I really didn’t celebrate it at all.  Straightway holds that the new day begins at the setting of the sun, so Sabbath for them begins on Friday evening. That evening we sat around a fire, talking, singing, praising The Most High.  Late in the morning on Saturday they have a worship service each week.


People start drifting in for the service about an hour early and they sit in (mostly) silent prayer – or so I was told. I got there about half an hour early and found a seat beside a couple old friends who had come up for the gathering. All around us people were praying; every kind of prayer that can be imagined.  Prayers in total silence, silent prayers with moving lips, mumbling prayers, seated prayers, standing prayers, kneeling prayers, prayers of obeisance, prayers at the foot of the dais, grown men openly weeping in prayer before Yahweh.  To say it wasn’t what I expected is to put it mildly.  In fact I was more than a bit uncomfortable; I didn’t know what to think,  I had never seen such raw emotion towards God.


As I sat there trying to gain my bearings, I decided to pray in the half-hearted way that I was used to. I don’t remember what I prayed, but if I had to guess it went something like this:

Yo Lord, What’s up? I’m in TN. Havin a pretty alright time. Some of these people are freakin me out a little bit with the weeping and the what have you. It’d be cool if we could have a safe trip home. If you could keep my truck from breaking down that’d be awesome. So…. I guess I’ll talk to you later then? Cool. Amen.

After that I twiddled my thumbs a bit, got a drink of water and kept waiting; and waiting; and waiting… Then from no where my skin felt as it were on fire!  I looked left and then right; Pastor Dowell was walking down the aisle between the rows of chairs.  For the next 4 hours I sat mesmerized by the message he delivered, by the songs of praise, by the Spirit of the Living God that filled that tabernacle.   I don’t even remember what he preached about; I just remember the Word of the Lord washing over me; I remember that the burning of my skin never ceased while he preached.


Someone asked me what I thought of the service, I told him that I felt like a stranger in a strange land.  I had no idea that I was quoting the bible.


One of the main things that I like about both Pastor Dowell and Pastor Fox is that they encourage a Berean approach to the scriptures – study the scriptures daily to see what is true.  Since that time I’ve been amazed just how many of our common colloquialisms are taken from scripture.  I don’t agree 100% with either of them, but if someone with whom you agree 80% of the time is a friend and someone with whom you agree 90% of the time is an ally then I have very good friends and allies.


Now that I’ve returned home, I still feel like a stranger in strange land.

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Travelling through this world of woe
There is no sickness, toil or danger
In that fairy land to which I go

I’m going home
To see my mother
I’m going home
No more to roam
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home

I know dark clouds will hover on me,
I know my pathway is rough and steep
Beauteous fields lie right before me
Where weary eyes no more will weep
I’m going home to see my father
I’m going home no more to roam
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home

I’ll soon be free from earthy trial
This form will rest beneath the sun
I’ll drop the cross of self-denial
And enter in that home with God
I’m going home to see my savior
I’m going home no more to roam
I am just going over Jordan
I am just going over home

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