Nwsltr-100310-Broken and Defeated
“Amidst the turmoil of America’s Past lay broken peoples, dreams, and lives, yet for those of us who believe in our God and his Savior Son, there is hope, in a kingdom to come, where all men, will sit under their tree in peace, safety, and harmony with God and man.”

By the Watchman
Dana G Smith
Keywords: watchman, expose, newsletter; god, indian, tribe, lion, judah, faith, america, white man, races, creed, war, broken, defeated, wind river, arapahoe, shoshone, Jesus Christ.
Words: 2916

Revelation 5:5  And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.

The Wind Rivers in a bit of haze during the morning sun as the valley lay below

As a Watchman I do many things, that is, have many hats to put on. We are small and in that, we are content as long as we know the Lord is working in us and through us. One thing I do besides Warning, teaching, and preaching on the radio, is write. I have written for many years, in fact since a child. I knew then, I would write. Deep inside the Lord had already put the talent, desire, and love to put into words, what he would lay on my heart. Now many years later, this is what I do.

This week found me in the midst of Tabernacles, but we had to leave town to take care of family business, very personal for us both. I went back to my home town where I was raised this last week and spent time with a very elderly father. He is the last of our line of elders. He has outlived all of the clan elders so to speak. Staunch German with a Norwegian mother, my dad is a believer in the Lord. He saw to it that mom and I were in church on Sundays. In that church I received my first bible, and saw our families both grandparents and my parents participate. Yet, for us, there was still something missing. When I grew older, the Lord dealt with me and I came to truly know the ‘born again’ experience in the Lord Jesus Christ. So this week, much of these memories came back to me.

I stood over the valley of the Wind River, home of the Northern Arapahoe and Shoshone tribes. Only God knows why or how my dad who freshly out of the military and world war II came to this valley. He was a dapper young man, handsome, wearing glasses, and in a golf shoes, with club in hand. This was the picture I saw from our album. This California kid whose dad was a tough old German and a golden gloves boxing champ had left his family to come to Wyoming. Now some 60 years later he still says “I love Wyoming and don’t ever regret coming to this state.” He smiles when he thinks of Santa Catalina Island and his family who lived on Wrigley’s Island. Wrigley the chewing gum billionaire had bought the Island and also owned the Chicago cubs, eventually Wrigley’s field came to be built.

The Wind River mountains stood amidst some haze as I focused the viewfinder in my camera on the range before me and snapped a picture. I stood on the edge of a part of Griffy Hill as we knew it. Back then it was sagebrush, rabbits, snakes, antelope, and deer. Today it is fenced, subdivided, and people are everywhere. Back then as small boys, my friends and I could go hiking and exploring and loved every minute of the desolate outback of the Wyoming high plains. I snapped the picture and looked around for my dog ‘Sadie’. She loved it here and was running, exploring, sniffing, and looking for all them rabbits and other animals. But today, as I looked over at the distant sand dunes which had been sculpted by the winds, nary a rabbit could be seen. We even used to see a hawk, eagle, or something, but now, nothing!

The Wind River surrounded by trees, meanders in the valley beneath the range of the Wind rivers

I saw the Wind river itself winding through the valley below and off to my right some 15 miles or so was my Granddad Eaton’s old farm. It has been sold and today it looks somewhat like it used too with the same barns, out buildings, and the house itself. It has been painted and re-arranged along with some new stuff, but I could still seek Grandpa working there with my cousin Darrel and I helping out. All that is left to us today are the mineral rights, as of yet, we have done nothing with them.

Granddad Eaton was a hardworking Dutchman of the faith who worked and lived the farm. Many years ago he and Grandma came to this country in a covered wagon. They bought a small piece of property along the river. Life was hard then. With tough winters, little to eat, they scrapped by and raised a family. Dirt poor, but free, all then were Methodists. Shouting Methodists, on fire for God, yes that was them then.

The Indians were close by as they always had been. We knew many of them. To us growing up, there were two kinds of Indians. I was taught there were good Indians and bad Indians. As I stood there the valley seemed quiet today. Thoughts were rolling by and being lost in the moment I realized that ‘Sadie’ has not been around. I looked back and did not see her, then in the distance I saw her. I pushed my buzzer that rings her collar and raised my hand. She heard the buzzer and turned around and saw my hand. This was her signal to come to me, which she did right away. We loaded up and went to town.

Today the Arapahoes have a large casino on the reservation. Their reservation surrounds my home town and we have learned as did the Indians to get along. Of these, I have had friends, slept in their homes, and played with them. I also had friends of Mexicans, Cowboys, and even Hippies. Yet as I visited this time and came close to the town, I could not help but think that the Whites in power in the old west had made sure these Indians were put in a place where they could not cause trouble. I know that the good Indians for instance as we called them had large farms, became adept at the white mans ways. They raised kids, made a living and used the white mans money they received monthly to invest. Other Indians were broken. They spent their time drinking, partying, and forgetting. It is sad. The White mans victory, the Indian demise.

Sandy shapes, these sandstone rocks shaped by decades and centuries of Wyoming winds

I started out the mornings in the park downtown reading and praying. Every morning the Indians were there. This morning a group stumbled out of the empty band shell in the park. They looked like they had a party. They were stumbling and some threw up. One could barely walk as the liquor had not worn off yet. The group of men and women saw me and were wary. I looked on and knew they did not trust me. Little did they know, I had compassion on them. But around these parts, a white man is trouble. They put up with us, and do not trust us. The last thing they want is the White mans Jesus and the white man destroying their heritage. This is what we did wrong in the dealings with them. They were a tough foe, proud, and had families. They fought us because we came and took, devoured and conquered. Their Indian heritage and even prophecies foresaw the White man coming and even his demise. A time when their rule over this land would end. What they need is the Savior of all men, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, not white mans religious ways. What they need is the touch of the Son of God who through him, all things were created. All things exist in him and through him. Yes this is what these people need.

John 1:1  ¶In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
2  The same was in the beginning with God.
3  All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.
4  In him was life; and the life was the light of men.

Colossians 1:16  For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him:
17  And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.

The ones that were before me were not dangerous. But there are others, on the reservation who are. Over the years and the many sins of both Indian and White man have created a back lash. Today many on both sides live with each other. Many come to the casino to gamble and hopefully get rich. The casino provides money and jobs. This reservation along with the Shoshone Tribe that lives towards Lander are poor. Today though some things are changing. But alongside the casino are the board shacks, and some nicer line of homes. But in town, the saga of the drunken Indian and the squaw are still there, a reminder that although things change, other things do not.

In bible school I had a friend who was an Assiniboine and from Montana. He had gotten saved and was preparing for ministry to Indian peoples. When an Indian was saved, he did not go back to his own tribe or reservation, he was moved to another reservation to reach other Indians. These people as with many others had culture and heritage, family and love. Yet, they did not know the Son of God, of the tribe of Judah.

Below is an excerpt of such a tribe.

My people, Hude´shabina (the Red Bottom people), were one of forty bands of Assiniboines who roamed the northern Great Plains from York Factory on Hudson’s Bay, Lake Nipigon, and Lake Superior in the East to the Rocky Mountains of Alberta and Montana in the West. Before the coming of the white man, members of our tribe were characterized by their method of cooking: fist-size stones were heated until they were red hot and then immersed into hides of water making the water boil for soups and stews.

The name Assiniboine was derived from the Chippewa words u´sin i and u´pwawn´, which literally means “stone boilers.” Others of our tribe are called Stoney, a name derived from the same source.

Our name for ourselves is Nakona, or Nakonabi, meaning “The Friendly People.” [http://mtprof.msun.edu/Win2003/r4star.html]

The Indians in the west were defeated and no doubt many evils have been done to them. Yet it was a war of one people against another. One group lost, the other won. But even in the winning of a war, the healing of a nation is slow. In this case, the healing for many has never come. They still hate the whites, and even the other Indians who allied with them. This same hatred exists among other people groups, the Negro who cannot forget nor forgive slavery. The Mexican who wants to bring back the glory of Mexico and take back territories they feel were given away to America. In the Melting pot of America the cauldron continues to boil with this same animosity. It underlines many things going on today. This allows others who come in to the political scene with promises to make things right. They do so with a revolution and social justice all wrapped up to give hope to the peoples that feel slighted and hurt. They use political socialism and av-ant garde new world order ism’s to bring a unity which gives hope to many. But in the foundations of their plans lay a ground breaking world that gives no heed to the person, instead giving him a number. Individual nations and identities will be removed and thus give place to a world that is ordered down to the last bit of meal and bread. Nothing will be bought or sold without a mark. A time and era when not only white people but people of all races will be reduced to chattel with a number and a mark.

Revelation 13:15  And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.
16  And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads:
17  And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

The Indian in short hates the white mans ways, that is unless you’re an Indian who made it in the white mans world. You have money, status, lands, family, and even white friends. But let me tell you from the stand point of the Indians I know and have seen, this is just an exception and not the rule. The point being here is that the trouble coming to this nation and is now here will affect all peoples. If your going to survive, hatred of the white man or of any group will not help at all. I have seen while in bible school friends who became closer than family. They were Samoan, Indian, White, Mexican, Negro, and many other races. Races and creeds, peoples and family, all one in Christ. Because in that place the Spirit of the Lord, the Word of God, and faith in Christ were paramount. He revealed himself in us, and through that we became one. We loved each other, prayed for each other. Today though the hatred, bias, and mistrust have made it almost impossible to reach some people. Yet where it is impossible for man, with God all things are possible. I guarantee that this God and our Savior Jesus Christ will have all men, all races, all of them in one in his Kingdom. That will occur, but it will only occur if they receive him and follow him with all their heart. He is the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, not a mere savior of white men, but of all men. Thank God, our Father for that, and our Lord Himself, the passover lamb.

Mark 10:26  And they were astonished out of measure, saying among themselves, Who then can be saved?
27  And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible.

I don’t get back to this area much. I was raised here, it has many bad memories. It is like a place that is both sweet and sour, bad and good, tough and easy. It had been home to me as a child, yet I was not born there. I was conceived in this place, born in Whittier California, and as soon as that occurred, I wound up back in Wyoming. This place today is full of the same thing. The history of the white man, the sadness of the Indian peoples. Into this throw the old west, cowboys, then the modern. In the sixties it was a drug culture and hippies. Today it is oil exploration, gambling, and fast living. The old is taken over by the new amidst the thrust of a government that is too big and many times seems corrupt in its dealings. Here Indians still live in the hope of the old ways while the forefathers of these warriors watch as the hapless drunken Indians wander about with their squaws on the streets. They stand on corners with Indian blankets, in the cold, half drunk and watch the white man go by. The whites mock, ridicule, but some have compassion and see the trouble.

So as I leave the area, in the rearview mirror the valley is giving way to the horizon. The mountains called the Wind Rivers are the last thing I see as I drive back some 2 hours to a place I have called home for many years. As I do so, I realize the challenges ahead for America, the people here, and also a group of Northern Arapahoe and Shoshone tribes that are broken and defeated. But then, even many whites and other races are broken and defeated. That is why the son of God came, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. To fix what was broken, to raise up those defeated, and to heal all men. In this I believe, Even so come LORD Jesus, Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Amen

Revelation 5:5  And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Juda, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.

Revelation 11:15  And the seventh angel sounded; and there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.