Times have changed since I moved west 37 years ago. Living in Albuquerque-where English is spoken, I had my first taste of the real west. Cowboys, cowgirls, country western music, and a freedom not found back east. And a freedom that looking back, I thought we would never lose.
I had limited access to guns living in NJ, despite what you may have learned on the Sopranos. Guns were for hunting, and hunters, and since I did neither, had little interest. But when moving to New Mexico, before pickups were designer vehicles, but real trucks, they all had gun racks. With guns. Probably loaded, for as my friend once told me, "what good is a gun not loaded?" Makes sense. So with my friend Mike, and his wife Carol, I went to buy a gun like his. A .22 pistol, to go shooting. And on this day of decision, I walked barefoot, tank top, and shorts, without my wallet over to H. Cook Sporting Goods, a large chain of sporting good stores. Walked right up to the gun counter, and was handed many pistols to see what I thought. After picking one out, with a holster, and 1000 rounds, I applied for credit. With no ID on me, they ran my license number I had memorized just for occasions like this, and in 15 minutes I left the store with a gun, bullets, and credit. Never having shown any paperwork, identification, or waiting period. And later went back and bought a .357 Magnum the same way, only 200 rounds this time, big bullets cost more.
And we had more fun shooting, which is very relaxing. And shooting with Mike and Carol, and with my gun toting friend Garcia was a weekly event. And I never saw anyone get hurt! Except Carol, when Mike decided to show her how to shoot a shotgun. He explained to this Pomona lady how it was powerful, so you need to be balanced. And he had her assume a catcher's position, crouched down, handed her the gun, and got her balanced. He said "FIRE!" she did , and ended up about six feet back, on her bottom, from the kickback! If looks could kill, no gun would have been needed. But Mike was smart enough to only load one shell. We told the story often, just not when Carol was around. Just in case she had time to reload.
My friend Garcia had been a bad dude before getting saved. He had a sawed off shotgun, named Oscar, that fit under a jacket, and a .44 Magnum called Jr., carried in a shoulder holster. Living with us at the lake, we shot 2-3 times a week, and Garcia always had Jr. on. With few neighbors, and only one nearby with a phone, he walked up to use their phone one day. And walked in on them drying pot! And they panicked, and ran, thinking he was a federal officer! No shots fired, but a new respect for Garcia, and Jr.
And my Theresa even shot Oscar once, blowing a 4" diameter branch off a fir tree once. And shooting many rounds from the .22. But like I said, things have changed, and today I couldn't walk into a bank wearing my sidearm like I did at the Bank of Durango. Did my business, visited, then left. With no one even mentioning my gun. Loaded as per my friend's advice. And when being stopped by law officers in Colorado, always had them get my registration, for my .22 mag was always in the glove box. And not one officer ever questioned it! Things have changed!
I have good friends who have CCW licenses-Carrying a Concealed Weapon. There may be many others as they don't advertise the fact. And although I haven't gone shooting in years, I remember the fun, and also the potential danger. Ask Brett, who when cleaning his "empty" 30-06, fired a shot, taking a hunk out of his marble end table, that then went through the kitchen wall, through the stove and dishwasher, then left the house. No idea where it ended up! I used to carry a gun while travelling-bet you didn't know that? Until one day a pastor explained to me about how God's protection of me was all I needed. I would deal with some bad people, in some bad neighborhoods in ministry, and had been told by others not to go, or to pack when I did. I could never see myself shooting anyone, but frightened and cornered-who knows. This man reminded me that since I am assured of heaven, I should not be afraid, where God guided, He provided. And if I truly cared about those lost, would I risk shooting a lost soul and sending them to hell? I was there to offer them life-not death. Never looked at it like that. So I haven't carried a gun for almost 25 years, and understand those that do. No opinion either way. I feel safer without one.
But as a man trying to show the love of Jesus to an unsaved thug, I rather let my love show than the barrel of a gun. I rather not threaten him, but show him love. And I am not afraid to die-but me shooting and killing an unsaved person to me is wrong. Jesus came to save! And that is how He sends us out to minister. Whether you pack is your decision. Guns don't kill, the bullet fired from it by a person does. And I desire to honor Christ by offering life-not death! I rather be a man of God, than a man of bullets! Consider this when you are called to minister to someone. Fear is not of God, His perfect love casts it out.
I am not anti-gun-believe me. And I love to go shooting. Just anti-stupid, for the same God who sends us, is the same God who protects us. And salvation was never won with a loaded gun. It took death on a cross. That is the message we should be bringing, one of hope, love, and salvation. Dirty Harry may have needed a gun, God has already armed you with His word, and His spirit. I'm already packing when I go with Him.
Let the only weapon you draw out of your holster today be one of love. Remember that showing love is like pouring hot coals on their head. Not threatening them. And that it is Jesus who saves-not you. We only have the ability to take life-not give it. We can only be the messenger of love, pointing them to Jesus. Leave it to Him to change the heart. There are no gun racks in heaven. Jesus Christ-how the west was really won!
love with compassion,
Mike
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