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NOTES  FROM  THE  VALLEY - June 30, 2000

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil for you are with me."  Psalm 23.
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TOPIC:  THE  PRICE  OF  FREEDOM


A little over two centuries ago, men fought a war because they believed in
their right to be free.  They took a stand for freedom against the tyrant
king of England and paid the ultimate price for what they believed.  Upon
the foundation of their faith, tyranny was defeated and we regained our
right to be free.  This coming Tuesday, on Independence Day, we will
celebrate their victory.

Two thousand years ago, a man named Jesus fought a spiritual war because He
believed in the right God had given all men to be free.  He took a stand for
freedom against the tyrant Prince of this World and paid the ultimate price
for what He believed.  Upon the foundation of His faith, tyranny was
defeated and we regained our right to be free.  At Easter, the Christian
world celebrated His victory.

Any student of history knows that the Revolutionary War did not make this
nation free.  Any student of the Bible also knows that the spiritual war
Jesus won did not make all God's children free.  There is a wide canyon of
difference between the right to be free and actual freedom.  That canyon is
only bridged when we reach out to claim what is rightfully ours.  And once
that bridge head is established, it must be held on to, maintained and
defended against the elements of tyranny that will inevitably come to tear
it down.

Since the revolution, the men and women of this nation have fought in a
civil war, two world wars, and numerous "regional" conflicts to defeat a
variety of earthly tyrants.   Since the first Easter, men and women have
fought a continuing spiritual battle against the one who prowls  "around
like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).  The
history of this planet bears witness to the truth that wherever men and
women are free there will be tyrants enough seeking to take that freedom
away.  But it is equally true that tyrants (earthly and spiritual) will
never find a victory as long as they are opposed by people who share the
same selfless faith first demonstrated by Jesus on the cross at Calvary and
then mirrored by the patriots at Valley Forge.


I hope all of you have a wonderful Independence Day.  As you watch the
fireworks light up the night sky, please join me in a heartfelt prayer of
thanks to our Father.  Thanks for our freedom.  Thanks for those who have
and will defend it.  And most of all - thanks for His Son and the love that
sent Him to set us free.

Your brother in Christ,
Sheltered under His wing and overwhelmed by His love,

Steve Hall



THE  BIBLE  ON  BEING  FREE
(All scripture verses are the New International Version , except where
indicated)

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not
let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery . . .  You, my
brothers, were called to be free.  But do not use your freedom to indulge
the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is
summed up in a single command: "Love your neighbor as yourself."  Galatians
5:1 and 13-14

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so
that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death-that is,
the devil-and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their
fear of death.  Hebrews 2:14-15



MR.  LINCOLN'S  THOUGHTS

Our reliance is in love of liberty which God has planted in us. Our defense
is in the spirit which primed liberty as the heritage of all men, in all
lands everywhere.  Destroy this spirit and you have planted the seeds of
despotism at your door.  Familiarize yourselves with the chains of bondage
and you prepare your own limbs to wear them.  Accustomed to trample on the
rights of others, you have lost the genius of your own independence and
become the fit subjects of the first cunning tyrant who rises among you.
An Address at Edwardsville, Illinois, September 13,1858)



WINGED  DELIVERERS  OF  GOD
(Contributed by Mia of Daily Encouragers - Author Unknown)

Walking along the long abandoned airfield's runway, Pastor Robert's mind was
flooded with a river of memories.  Not all these memories were bad, after
all this was were he received his calling to the ministry from the Lord.  As
he stepped onto the cracked pavement, he gazed at the small flowers and tall
grass that had grown between each of the cracks and his memories sharpened
like it was only yesterday.  Once again he saw the powerful B-17 Flying
Fortress aircraft sitting in wait ready to conquer the German strongholds of
Europe.  This England of today was much different than the England in his
memories. Pastor Roberts mind began to run the frames by him like a cinema
presentation.  Once again he was Major John Roberts of the United States Air
Corps waiting for 134 Bomber Squadron to return from their bombing run over
Frankfort Germany.  That November day in 1944 now seemed more real than this
July 4th day of 1999.

He heard the sound of a voice from behind him yell "Here they come, they
look pretty shot up", as he spun around and saw the tower looking brand new
with soldiers scurrying around.  As he turned back around to face the run
way he counted fourteen B-17 bombers heading his way on a landing approach.
He quickly ran back toward the tower and watched in awe as the giant four
engine fortresses sped toward them.  Several were billowing smoke from
feathered engines while several others had visibly had parts shot off.  They
were crippled perhaps but such a welcome sight to see coming from the
Dovers.

As the aircraft began to land, the joy was quickly turned to horror as the
skies again began to rumble with sounds of other aircraft.  It was a
squadron of German Stuka's.  They're engines' whine had a droning sound that
was like no other.  They're aerodynamic design was reminiscent of a fearful
dragon as they swooped down from the skies dropping bombs on the aircraft
below that had just now come to a stop, not yet unloading their precious
cargo of men.  Eight wild cats managed to get off the ground and into the
air to attack the fearful Stukas, but they were no-match for the dark winged
grimaces.  Major Roberts heard the screams from the men in the burning
aircraft as the multiple explosions caused him to duck again and again from
the exploding armaments still aboard.  Three of the 17's just circled the
field with their guns blazing hoping to just stay alive long enough to out
last the Stukas so they could land before the last precious drops of fuel
could be expended.  One of the large war birds lost it's bet and plummeted
to the ground in a fiery ball of flames.

Major Roberts knelt there on that field and began to pray.  "Father, you
have been the deliverer of your people throughout all the history of man.
Father, I ask you once again to be our deliverer.  We need your help Lord,
we can not do this alone.  Lord Jesus deliver us from the Philistines again
Lord" the Major prayed.  Just when all hope seemed to be gone twenty-two
knights in shining armor appeared out of the sun.  Corsairs coming in with
guns blazing like the cavalry coming to rescue the wagon train.  The Stukas
seemed to have been caught off guard, because those Corsairs had them
dropping out of the skies like flies.  The fire crews scurried to the downed
aircraft and burning wreckage as quickly as they could.

Major Roberts, still somewhat in shock at what his eyes had beheld, had been
praying the whole time.  "Lord thank you for our deliverers that you have
sent to us this day.  Lord I feel your calling and I will follow you all the
days of my life.  Amen", he said with shaken voice. As he counted, there
were six aircraft and two crews destroyed in the raid, but some twelve crews
survived thanks to the valiant men of the Corsairs.  As the corsairs began
to land, Major Roberts ran out to the runway to greet the Victors.   Major
Dick Rice came down from his blue shining bird of victory wiping the sweat
from his brow.  Major Roberts saluted him, shook his hand and even embraced
him with tears in his eyes.  "Major, we thought we were goners for sure.
How in the world did you and your men get the message so fast that we were
under attack?" cried the visibly shaken Major Roberts.

"Major you are not going to believe this, but we got here by accident. You
see we were on a routine patrol when my compass froze up.  I called to my
wing-man who also said his compass had frozen as well. For forty-five
minutes we wandered aimlessly until we came up on this base.  Sir not only
did we not come here on purpose, I still do not know where we are."  Major
Roberts took a ground crew and went to each of the Corsairs to check the
compasses.  Each one read north, each one was frozen and each one had to be
replaced.  Major Roberts knew that day who sent those aircraft.

Now looking once again at the grass growing between the cracks, Pastor
Roberts wiped the tears from his eyes.  He walked over to the exact spot
were he had prayed that prayer over 55 years ago and once again knelt down.
"Father, once again I kneel here and recommit my life to you as I did
fifty-five years ago.  You have been faithful to me all these years, and I
will continue to trust in you.  Thank you Lord, for You have always been my
deliverer."

Pastor Roberts arose to his feet and slowly walked off the field across what
had once been a trash pile.  He stumped his foot on something that almost
made him trip and fall.  He reached down and took hold of an object that was
half buried in sand.  As he lifted it to his eyes to examine it, he was
filled with joy once again.  It was an old aircraft compass.  He took out
his handkerchief and wiped away the years of dirt from it's face.  The
needle was still sitting on north.  How wonderful of the Lord to remember
the anniversary of Pastor Roberts' deliverance.  Once again he lifted his
eyes upward and thanked his wonderful Redeemer.



FREEDOM  ISN'T  FREE
(Received from Kimberly at HeartStrings - Author Unknown)

I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze
A young Marine saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.


I thought, how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?

I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.

How many Pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?

I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea;
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, Freedom isn't free!!



THE "RAG" FLAG
(John McCain, From the files of Leadership)

In the final years of our imprisonment, the North Vietnamese moved us from
small cells with one or two prisoners to large rooms with as many as 30-40
men to a room. We preferred this situation for the companionship and
strength we could draw from our fellow prisoners. In addition to moving us
to new quarters, out captors also let us receive packages and letters from
home. Many men received word from their families for the first time in
several years. The improved conditions were a result of public pressure put
on the North Vietnamese by the American public.

In our cell was one Navy officer, Lt. Commander Mike Christian. Over a
period of time Mike had gathered bits and pieces of red and white cloth from
various packages. Using a piece of bamboo he had fashioned into a needle,
Mike sewed a United States flag on the inside of his shirt, one of the blue
pajama tops we all wore.  Every night in our cell, Mike would put his shirt
on the wall, and we would say the pledge of allegiance. I know that the
pledge of allegiance may not be the most important aspect of our day now,
but I can tell you that at the time it was the most important aspect of our
lives.  This had been going on for some time until on of the guards came in
as we were reciting our pledge. They ripped the flag off the wall and
dragged Mike out. He was beaten for several hours and then thrown back into
the cell.

Later that night, as we were settling down to sleep on the concrete slabs
that were our beds, I looked over to the spot where the guards had thrown
Mike. There, under the solitary light bulb hanging from the ceiling, I saw
Mike. Still bloody and his face swollen beyond recognition, Mike was
gathering bits and pieces of cloth together. He was sewing a new American
flag.



THE  STORY  BEHIND  "TAPS"
(Received from Bill Woodfill, Captain, U. S. Navy Retired)

The article is from a recent American Legion Newsletter.

It all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert
Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The
Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land.  During
the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally
wounded on the field.  Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier,
the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for
medical attention.  Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain
reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him towards his encampment.

When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was
actually a confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.  The Captain lit a
lantern.  Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the
dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his son. The boy had been
studying music in the south when the war broke out.  Without telling his
father, he enlisted in the Confederate Army.

The following morning, heart broken, the father asked for permission of his
superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status.
His request was granted.  The Captain had asked if he could have a group of
Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the funeral.  That
request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect
for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.  The
captain chose a bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a
piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. This wish was
granted. This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps" that is
used at all military funerals.  In case you are interested, these are the
words to "Taps".

Day is done,
Gone the sun,
From the lakes,
From the hills,
From the sky,
All is well.
Safely rest.
God is nigh."

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Copyright © 1998-2000 by Stephen J. Hall  -   Weekly letters of
encouragement to Christians written by Stephen J. Hall unless otherwise
indicated.  Notes from the Valley and Humor from the Valley are never
intended to offend anyone.  They're meant only to brighten your day and
encourage you along the way.  Most of "notes" and "humor" are a collection
of items provided to me by subscribers and friends.  Credit is given to both
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have something you'd like to contribute to a future edition or would like to
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Your love, God, is my song, and I'll sing it!  I'm forever telling everyone
how faithful you are.  I'll never quit telling the story of your love - how
you built the cosmos and guaranteed everything in it.  Your love has always
been our lives foundation, your fidelity has been the roof over our world.
(Psalm 89:1-3 The Message)