MY PURSUIT OF THE HAWK PART  2 Return to Part 1 Chapter Four of seven In the early summer of 1986, I loaded up everything I owned into an old Ford station wagon. My son, Mitchell, who had just graduated from high school, wanted to ride along with me to the golden state. He said he would like to visit his birthplace once again, and keep me company on the trip. He suggested that he could fly back once we got to California. I was indeed excited about both his desire and choice to come along. It would be wonderful to share with him at his age some of the great scenery of the west. I don't recall what day we left on, but it was quite early in the morning before sunrise. We made it just past St. Louis Missouri the first night, literally camping along the roadway. From there we mapped out a route to Flagstaff Arizona for a look at the Grand Canyon. Neither one of us had ever seen it before, and even the thought of it was exhilarating!  It turned out to be a very wise choice for both of us. We headed southwest from St. Louis, through Oklahoma and Texas, then on to New Mexico and into the heart of Indian country. We took turns driving, talked about a variety of things; remarking often about the unequalled scenery, and deeply enjoyed one another's company. Sight-seeing with one's child or children is a great honor; a time to thank God for such an experience. I had always thanked Him for the little journeys over the years, as I had enjoyed countless outdoor adventures with my children the entire time they were growing up. But this was going to be a big "thanks"; a great time of discovery!  Though I did not foresee it, ten years later I would be allowed to make a similar journey of discovery with my only daughter, Carrie.— Anyway, after spending a night in a motel in Flagstaff Arizona, we headed up to the Grand Canyon early in the morning. Our first stop was the viewpoint known as Desert View. We parked the car and wandered up to the viewpoint's edge together. The sun was just rising above the distant mountains and it was quite warm. If you've never been to the great canyon, you are in for more than a thrill. Your first view across and down into its massiveness will literally take your breath away. Several minutes passed before my son or I could utter a word. At the time, I wasn't sure what had caused our delay in speech, but I now believe it was the reality of seeing the work of the great flood of Noah before our very eyes; so much impressive carving by water in one place. It is truly unfathomable until you see it first hand. When you do see it, there can be no mistake; it was carved in a very short period of time by a tremendous force of water. Its history is still visibly obvious. Mitch and I were indeed fortunate to have shared the canyon, each for the first time, together. At the time of this writing I have been allowed a few more trips to the Grand Canyon, over the last several years. It has been a great inspiration in the creation of the Hiking the Trail of Truth video series and website. I wish I would have began that endeavor in 1986, but there was still much more to learn before my impulsive, anxious personality would allow me to seek an in-depth understanding of its creator. A couple of days later we arrived at Tim Murray's residence in the city of Monrovia, which borders Arcadia in southern California. His coal black hair had turned gray in the fifteen years we had been apart, but he was still, ol' Butch, the best friend I had ever known in my early days with the APD. It was a grand reunion. Tim had a young wife and two daughters who treated us with great respect and concern. Mitch stayed on for about a week, allowing us to view his birthplace and our old home on Loma Avenue in Temple City. We took in as much as we could during his short stay, and I believe our entire adventure from Ohio to California turned out to be one of our best quality times together. I was sad the day that I had to take him to the airport, but we didn't know at the time that he would be back in about six months...more on that later. In the meantime, I began the application process at the Arcadia Police Department. At first they didn't want to consider me because of my age, but some of my old friends there (Tim being at the top of the list) convinced Chief Johnson that he would not be disappointed. It turned out that He wasn't;  I was later elected class president at the Rio Hondo Police Academy (class # 81), and at the end of sixteen weeks, came out in the top ten of that class. I had the honor of giving the opening speech at our graduation, in the presence of Chief Johnson. God was exceedingly gracious to me. I look back and wonder, why—why such mercy on a sinner like me? I'm still wondering. I guess it's the fact that God, in His faithfulness, always continues to have hope in the most wayward of us. I have disappointed Him so many times, and will in this life never be able to fathom the depth of His grace. After my graduation I joined the rank and file at APD, and was congratulated on being the oldest person to graduate from a police academy (at that time). Thus, the men and women at APD nicknamed me, The Old Man. Very seldom did they, from that day on, ever call me Mark, or Taylor. It was always, "Hey, Old Man."  Some went as far as "Old Buzzard" or "Ancient Warrior", and to them, that was who I was. I didn't mind. I was just glad to feel like somebody once again, and in the next eight years I became a legend among my fellow officers;  I worked in the patrol division, the traffic division and the detective bureau. I continued my college education, became both a patrol and traffic training officer, coordinated the reserve officer training program, and became a leader in the fight for law and order in the city of Arcadia. I lectured on law enforcement at the local high school and counseled young people in the junior high and grade schools. I worked enjoyable and profitable overtime for the Santa Anita Race Track, for high school football games, local parades and for the movie industry. I continually received certificates and honors in all categories related to my work efforts. I also received letters of commendation from the police department and from citizens as well. My certificates and commendations were in excess of fifty by 1994. It appears that I had a great second chance at life, doesn't it?  My son, Mitch, was both living and working in California (he had arrived from Ohio with his girlfriend just after my academy graduation in January of 1987). I had a great paying job with lots of benefits (including full dental and medical, paid sick leave, training officer pay, educational incentive pay, and far above average retirement pay). I attended a local church and taught some informative classes there, thanks to a wide variety of life experience and Biblical study. I was able to continue my research into Biblical archaeology as well. I took some great desert and mountain trips with my son and my friends, and hiked whenever and wherever I wanted amidst the most beautifully rugged terrain in the country. My sister even came clear out west to visit me, Marc and Carrie (my third son and only daughter) flew out and spent a few weeks with me...on and on and on...things couldn't be better, right? Wrong!  If you don't have your priorities right on the inside; within your spirit, then it doesn't matter who you are, what you have, or where you are, sin will eventually catch up with you, because it's who you are. David wrote in the Psalms; For I was born a sinner—yes, from the moment my mother conceived me (Psalm 51:5). In spite of God's blessings, I continued to be a moral failure; I couldn't say no to certain passions. I was not at the time ready to confront in battle certain regimes within my sinful nature. I certainly did not comprehend the strength of their fortresses, and therefore allowed sinful desire to maintain its rule over me. I had relationships with several women during those years. The success of new life in California served to put the needed remembrance of old failures on the back burner. This is not good!  The Scriptures warn us not to forget that we have been purged from our old sins, and that we should keep them in mind so as not to repeat them or continue to live in them. We seldom consider the brevity of life and, though we boast of loyalty and sincerity, rarely do we give our lives completely to God. Even when death stares us in the face we sometimes refuse to see or consider these things. I believe that a part of God's patience finally wore thin with me. I believe at this time He took some action to restrain me; to wake me up!  Early in 1992, I was struck with a severe attack of pancreatitis. It knocked me off my feet and put me in the Huntington Memorial Hospital for a month. In that very early stage, my chances of living were about fifty/fifty, however, God was merciful and spared me. I recovered somewhat, thanks to Dr. Glen D. Littenberg, the Chief of Staff at that large hospital, whom the Lord had allowed to be my attending physician. I was eventually sent home with intravenous feeding, eighteen hours a day, for over four months. I was trained by the hospital staff and became my own stay-at-home nurse. I wasn't allowed solid food for that entire time. I looked like a skeleton with a thin layer of flesh on it. My sick leave had run out after the first two months, but members of the entire police department donated overtime hours and vacation leave allowing me to not miss one paycheck through the entire ordeal. At that particular time, my son (Mitch) was living with me. He and his high school sweetheart had split up and had gone their separate ways. He felt pretty lonely then, and being ill and not the best moral example in the world, I was unable to comfort or encourage him for the better. In his loneliness he went to Ohio for a short visit around May, and upon his return he informed me that he was going to move back to Ohio for good. He had met someone there and wanted to be with her. I couldn't blame Mitch. Losing him would take a toll on me, but I deserved it. I had for sure not been the best father, nor did I realize how much I truly needed him and he needed me, those five years he spent in California. I had only shown him how wild and carefree his dad could be. Once again I had wasted unredeemable opportunities which my Creator had given me. The pain of that ignorance also remains forever, and rightly so. Like King David, my latter years are broken with remorse for my failure as a father. If you, dear reader, have children, you had better give them all the love and attention that you've got; when you can and while you can. If you're too busy, or you think they're okay without it, or you think your own personal life is more important, then, in each and any of these circumstances, you're a fool! I returned to work in late May of that year. I was limited as to my duties at the police department. About seven months later I had to return to the hospital for an emergency operation related to the healing of the pancreas. I was in there about a week, but in two months was well enough to return to patrol. I had gained some weight back, and actually wasn't doing too bad. I had some problems with stomach pain and bowel movements, but as long as I could get to a toilet when needed, I survived. I dirtied my underwear from time to time, but was able to keep the other guys from knowing about this embarrassing disability. With this digestive weakness I pretty much became a recluse. I dropped off somewhat in attending police functions and also in attending church regularly. I was quite lonely at times, truly missing the recent years in California that I had been allowed the association and companionship of my son. The consequences of illness and lonliness were indeed humbling. When I look back, I know that I thought that God was giving me a warning through that entire misfortune, and that I had to make a change. In my limited understanding I eventually went a little overboard with change. Instead of realizing, where I currently was and the benefits and opportunities I currently had, as well as the many talents I had over the course of time developed (and all by God's grace to be used for Him), I began to dwell on my home of origin once again; on Ohio. Instead of seeing that Ohio was where I spent my worst years, I saw it as a place of escape; a place where I thought I could slow down and live any remainder of life that God was going to allow me. Since the doctor was not sure just how long I would live, I thought I was going to die!  I saw Ohio as the place of my roots. Since the majority of my children were living there, I somehow envisioned that being around them would help make up for some of my failures. That is possible, in part, but, once again my self-will would create a stumbling block for God's plans, and I would eventually suffer the consequences. At the time, I was renting a room from a friend, Sandie Eisenhower, in a small house in Sierra Madre, just below the mountains I so often hiked. Her advice was not to leave the police department, and not to cash out my retirement. After all, I had bought my earlier years back and had a total of eleven years in the retirement fund. The police department even offered me a full time detective position, a daytime job and my own office, away from the higher stress of patrol work. Unfortunately, once anxious Mark Taylor makes up his mind, no one can offer any advice or compromises that would alter his decision. There was no depth to his thinking then. All things had to be solved right now!  Mitch and his mother had also advised me over the phone not to come to Ohio; there was no work there and, with my disabilities, I needed to consider my retirement. My friends on the police department did not want me to leave. My friends at the local church did not want me to leave. If I could go back in time, I would shake the life out of that Mark Taylor and tell him how things were... I would tell him to put the mistakes of the earlier years back on the top shelf of experience. I would tell him to think about the good he had since accomplished as a police officer. I would tell him to consider the great learning advances he had made through his Biblical studies. I would tell him he cannot make up for his sins; he has to realize he was born a sinner, learn to live with the consequences, work harder at not yielding to sin, and go on with life!  Nothing can change what has happened. Examine your life as it really is!  Make only necessary adjustments!  Don't throw away more than you need to!  Don't make a shipwreck of what you have accommplished. You will always, for the remainder of your days, be a strange mixture of good and evil, and no one on earth can escape that dilemma!  Seek God for help when temptation strikes!  Let Him carry your load!  Do not let Satan use guilt to destroy you!  Don't be a damn fool! Guess what? I was a damn fool; guilt was my worst enemy. In May of 1994, I resigned from APD and applied for a cash settlement on my retirement. That means I gave up all the money the city had put in for me, and paid tax on what was left. I got a check for 26 thousand dollars. I thought I was rich, but the reality was that I gave up a retirement pension which in ten years I would live to deeply regret. I thought I could find a job in Ohio and everything would be just fine. Well, it didn't work out that way. When impulsive, anxious Mark Taylor arrived in Ohio, he immediately bought an old house for 22 thousand dollars. Then I took out a loan on the house to remodel it. I spent about a year in the work, fully enjoying it, and increased the value on the house. I worked at security jobs here and there during the remodeling (I always had to keep busy). I tried to get into law enforcement with the State Park Rangers and got to the final interview, when they decided they were going to promote from within. I had wasted my time there—though in reality it was just not in God's plan. I taught law enforcement at a local vocational high school (juniors and seniors) for a semester. That was probably the most fun thing I did during my Ohio adventure, other than remodeling that old house. In teaching law enforcement, one has to teach something of God. No law enforcement officer can properly perform his duties if he does not understand the depravity of man, that he, the officer, may then endeavor to enforce the spirit of the law and not necessarily the letter. Teaching about God's attributes was not accepted by the state faculty, who supervised the curriculum of the school. With this grave hindrance, it became impossible for me to balance my teaching for a true and accurate enlightenment of the students. This "conflict of interest" eventually forced me to walk away from the teaching position. I was however able to stress the importance of physical training and problem solving, and shared many interesting and energetic field activities with my students. The faculty hired some boring, retired Ohio State Patrolman to finish out the year in my stead, and this caused several of my former students to randomly drop by my house to let me know just how much they missed my insight and leadership. In spite of the difficulties encountered, I believe the semester I taught there turned out to be an informative and rewarding experience of relationship, both for my students and myself. I also had some great times with my own children during that Ohio adventure. A dear friend of mine, Patti Palitto, whom I had graduated high school with, organized a remarkable 50th birthday party for me in June of 1995. It was the first time all of my children and grandchildren were together in one place. So far, that has not happened again. That year I also made a video of my life story (I got into video making back in '87 and will talk more on that later). The video was patterned somewhat after the Forrest Gump movie. It was during that difficult storytelling and filming that I realized what I had actually done with my law enforcement career; two times!  My impulsiveness had led me back to Ohio twice.— All of our lives we're taught not to make the same mistake twice, but, impulsive, anxious Mark dit it anyway. I then determined that I was going to right that wrong and go back to California, try to get that Arcadia job back, and hopefully buy back into my retirement. In September of that year, I put the house up for sale. It was indeed a long, impatient winter. The house didn't sell until the late Spring of 1996. I finally cleared 15 thousand dollars after all was said and done, and loaded my Bronco II and a small U-haul trailer to the max. My daughter, Carrie decided to join me on my return trip. She was single at the time and wanted to share some sights of the west with me. Mitch was also sad to see me go, but he said that, if I could get my retirement back, it would be worth my going back and make acceptable his loss. I was honored by his unselfishness. My oldest son, Mike, was in Boston and doing well. He was then and has always been an encouragement. My youngest son, Marc, was much like me; he had a difficult time searching out his true feelings, but I had spent some memorable times during my Ohio adventure with him as well.— Oh, yes, there are also an abundance of quality memories of the early years with my children in Ohio. We encountered many outdoor adventures in their growing up, which has indeed helped them in their own spiritual development. My daughter once remarked,  "We always did things together, Dad. It sure beat sitting at home and watching TV." My daughter and I headed out on a June morning in '96, enroute to Denver and points west. I have traveled back and forth across the USA several times in my lifetime now. One thing is sure, nothing gets inspiring until you get to Denver and beyond. You hit the Rockies first and from there you soar like an eagle, covering a diversity of sky and terrain that helps you to somewhat understand why the eagle soars.— Our first major stop was just into Indian country at Arches National Park. From here you can journey on to Monument Valley and the Grand Canyon, taking in all those great wonders as you're continuing west. It was at this time and on this journey that the sum total of my life's experiences began to weave themselves together with my life's endeavors. I began to understand why one should not attempt detours along the road of life which God has granted him/her. This however was not what I would call an actual turning point in my life, but I was thinking on and storing up the insights that would eventually serve to help me to understand the absolute necessity of walking in God's way, twenty-four hours a day. I was able to relate to my daughter many of God's attributes. Walking among the great evidences of Noah's flood; Arches, Monument Valley and the Grand Canyon, provided a great backdrop, if you will, for this type of conversation. I had studied, in depth, Biblical archaeology, geology and history by this time in my life, and could relate them well in reasoning the truth of Scripture to those whom I taught. These things were quite interesting to my daughter, and our presence among the red rock wonders were no small help to her own understanding. We drew closer together on that trip, and my daughter was a few years later baptized into Christ in my presence, near her home in rural Ohio ('99). I had baptized Mike in '77 and Mitch in '83, both in Ohio, when I was a young student of the Bible.— In those days of course I was only a part time father to each of my children. True, some full time fathers accomplish much less, but the overall matter still continues to crush my spirit. Should-not-have-been's, do much more for the development of one's God-respecting attitudes than, oh-well's. We went through Las Vegas after crossing the mountains into Nevada. On our way in I began to lose the gearing in the Bronco's transmission. This would become the third time in the ten years I owned the vehicle that the tranny gave out. The other two times were during adventures out in the middle of the Mojave desert.— Anyway, we limped off the freeway and pulled up in front of the first unpainted curb in town, in front of a large building, and came to a stop. Over-heated at that time, the ol' truck wouldn't budge any further with that heavy U-haul behind it. We climbed out and walked up the street about a block to eat lunch in the first available restaurant. After lunch, when we walked back toward the truck, we saw that both it and the U-haul trailer were surrounded by people, who were looking into the truck's windows. As soon as I said,  "Hey, that's my truck, what are you doing?"  the group of men and women suddenly drew out handguns, flashed badges, and told my daughter and I to face the wall of the Federal Building, which we were parked in front of.  "Hands in the air,"  they ordered, and began a pat down search on each of us... Chapter Five of seven It turned out that they were FBI, and thought we had a U-haul full of fertilizer; a bomb!  It hadn't been too long after the Oklahoma City bombing had occurred, and folks in the Federal Buildings all over the country were just a little bit nervous. Once they had established who we were, and after looking as best they could into that stuffed trailer (only being able to pry the door up and open about two feet), they let us go. I was parked legally, but they wanted that trailer out of there in a hurry!  By then, the Bronco had cooled down enough for me to get it started and limp to a motel, where a transmission service later came and towed the truck off for repair. That Federal Building incident has remained a good source of humor unto this day. Unfortunately the Bronco's transmission bill was twenty-five hundred dollars, which knocked a big hole into my "re-establishment in California fund".  Pulling that heavy U-haul also shortened the life of my trusty 'ol vehicle and I was forced to get rid of it not too long after that.— Anyway, we were a couple days in Las Vegas waiting on the truck before we could begin the drive to Los Angeles. That day however did arrive and we pushed on, or should I say, "pulled on"?  Either way, while crossing the Mojave Desert I was a little nervous about that tranny, for about 250 miles; right up until we reached the Los Angeles area. I was certainly glad we made it! In spite of that slight bit of anxiety, crossing that section of the Mojave desert felt good. The landscape was more a part of me than I had realized. Its unique inspiration has always been the Creator's way of teaching me its importance for my purpose in life. I cannot believe the wonders He has allowed me to behold through the years!  It hadn't all come together at that time, but it would not be long until it did. I wasn't thinking about it at the time; I just wanted to get back to the PD and get the job processing started. But, let me say this: God uses the creation in drawing each of us to Himself. We were made from the dust of the earth, and our true spirit, when we allow Him to enter into it, knows this. We catch a glimpse of this truth whenever we are allowed to visit or vacation into the wilderness. Do you not feel strangely attracted to nature? It's really not a mystery, for you are indeed a part of nature. Only God's Spirit can make you aware of it. If He has done that, if He has indeed revealed that to your inner being, you should consider yourself blessed. I found an apartment in the ol' town of Sierra Madre the very day we arrived. The landlady was a sweet ol' gal in her eighties, who respected police officers. She considered my situation and allowed me to move in right away. I paid the deposit and rent up front and she said she would confirm my references another day. My daughter stayed another few days and helped me to unpack and get things organized.— Why do we haul so much junk around with us when we move?  Clothes and toiletries would have been enough, but I was dragging things around that I really had no need for. The entire U-haul was full of junk. I guess certain things remain familiar to us over the years, even though we only use them once in a blue moon, and so we become pack rats. Then, when we die, someone else sorts through it all and throws half of it away—perhaps all of it. Bottom line is, none of it will fit into our casket; we couldn't take it along with us on the next journey anyway. If you have any questions about your focus in life, one can certainly learn where his/her focus is by the things they accumulate. After I, reluctantly, put Carrie on a plane back to Ohio, I went to the APD and asked them to consider my going back to work for them. A new chief was in charge at that time, who had not come up through the ranks and did not know Mark Taylor from Adam. Nevertheless, he was the one I first had to interview with if I was to have any hope of returning to work. Actually, the interview went well, but he didn't fight for me like former Chief Johnson would have. I had to take a written test again, pass an oral review board again, run the physical agility course and wait on a background check, again. This process took over eight weeks. In the meantime, I worked as a bodyguard to roving nurses through a private security agency, run by an LAPD sergeant. I also worked, for a short time, as an Animal Control Officer in the city of Pasadena. That job eventually fell through. The males in charge there were homosexual, and accepting their life-style was obviously a conflict of interest in my being a believer in God. No true believer in God has survived long in an environment of that type; consider Abraham's nephew, Lot, who lived in the depraved city of Sodom (Genesis 19).  Though I never got into a conflict with them about their sexual appetites, they eventually fired me, accusing me of allowing some vagrant to trespass on Animal Control property. It was about that time that I was contacted by APD and advised that they could not rehire me. It had been the City Attorney's decision that, considering my past illness, even though the doctors had, in writing, released me, I was a risk the city could not afford. I realized that the City Attorney had acted in the only way he could have, but my hopes of buying back into my retirement faded into the sunset. I also realized that no other police department would hire me due to that medical condition, and also due to my age. My former Captain, Rick Sandona, also paid me a call. He said that he and other friends on the department had fought hard for my return. He also said that there would have been no fight at all, if I had re-applied in May instead of in late June. The reason was that I would have been covered under a two year 'leave of absence clause' in the police contract. I missed that deadline by about a month.— It took so long to sell that darn house back there in Ohio! I was devastated at the time, but now I can look back and see God’s hand at work; not to punish me for the foolishness in my life, but to protect me from continuing in that foolishness. Knowing myself as I do now, I know that the good pay and stability of the police department would only have allowed me to continue to not truly consider, in-depth, the cost of past foolishness in my life, nor would it allow me to live out some further consequences that needed to be lived out. I would have more than likely continued in the same old fashion; wasting money, perhaps chasing women, and holding to a form of Christianity that so many do, but actually denying, through continued indulgence in carnal behavior, its true power (2nd Timothy 3:5). I would point out here that for one to be successful at Christian living, there needs to be daily self-examination. Each of us are more prone to certain temptations than others. We each have significant weaknesses. Therefore, we need to take the time to attempt to understand ourselves and the individual spiritual struggles we face everyday. Knowing somewhat of who you truly are will help you to grow spiritually. But, since no one can ever completely know themselves, the best way to deal with temptation is to pray... and run from it—literally. Like I said, I didn’t reason like that at the time. I was pretty much down and out in attitude. With a damaged pancreas I was also limited as to what type of work I could do; I was okay with physical activity, but had to have a toilet nearby, in whatever I did. I eventually took a job as a chauffeur for a nice fellow who ran an air conditioning outfit in Pasadena. It was a pretty easy job, and allowed me to consider more in-depth the things that were taking place and had taken place in my life. What did I think on the most? I thought about my first marriage; about Jenny and Mike, when we first came to California in 1967. I thought about Mitch’s birth, and I drove by our little home many times.— Instead of trying to conquer the world back then, why wasn’t I just a simple sort of guy who could have been satisfied with a job like this?  If I had been a chauffeur, perhaps I would not have fallen into the grip of the world. Perhaps I would not have been deceived by the arch deceiver. I could have just been a regular ol’ guy who went home to his family every night and loved them. Maybe we could have had a couple dogs and some horses, instead of me trying to be the macho cop who lived life on the edge and then came home to worship all those insignificant material possessions. What the hell really happened to me? It was at that time that true light began to dawn, that both experience, length of life, and a more mature understanding of self began to reason together, and that I allowed God time to speak to my heart; probably in depth for the first time. I recalled the wilderness wanderings of the Israelites in the Desert of Sin (Numbers 14:33, 34). For forty years they were destined to wander in the desert for their unbelief. Moses himself had wandered as a shepherd in the wilderness of Midian for forty years, in preparation for leading the Israelites out of Egyptian bondage (Acts 7:30). David wandered in the wilderness, Elijah wandered in the wilderness, John the baptist wandered in the wilderness, and even Jesus Himself wandered in the wilderness. The apostle Paul, shortly after his conversion, spent many years out of the limelight, of which we are not informed of his activities. All of God's true children wander, for a time, in the wilderness. I, too, realized that I had been wandering many years in the Desert of Sin; the wilderness portion of my life that would serve to enlighten me as to my purpose, or serve to destroy me, if destruction was my desire; if that was how I chose to look at and consider those wanderings. We all spend time in the wilderness. When we finally come to realize it, we have a chance, if it is our choice to take that chance, to use all that God has so wisely allowed us to endure for His good purpose. Every talent we’ve acquired, every experience we’ve added, every loss we’ve suffered, every sin we've committed and every challenge we’ve ever in our lifetime faced, or ran from, can be used for God’s good purpose (Romans 8:28). The purpose of our wilderness wanderings is that we discover this potential. Paul convinced us that he was the Chief of sinners (1st Timothy 1:15). Yet, God used him to bring the faith of Jesus to the entire Gentile world!   He wrote the major portion of the New Testament. He endured and conquered; so can we. It’s just a matter of accepting that truth by faith, in spite of the difficulties along the way. What happened to me is linked to the fate of the entire human race. Satan is out to destroy us. He is out to destroy you as he is out to destroy me. He deceitfully uses our carnal desires to lead us astray. He is the god of this world. You will not escape his influence in your life!  If you don't know God, you are already Satan's disciple. If you do know God, Satan has become your fiercest enemy, and there is no middle ground. On the other hand, do you think that the God of heaven has rejected you?  Do you feel that you are far or quite far beyond redemption?  Have you given up on yourself because your sinful deeds are so overwhelming?  Or, are you not worried about these things because you feel you’ve lived a good life?  Do you feel you’ve done enough good to outweigh the bad?  Will that take you out of Satan’s grip and put you into the arms of God at the end? — Dear reader, understand this: There is no one who does good, no, not even one (Romans 3:12). Good only comes from the Spirit of God. It is His Spirit operating on the heart of a man/woman that enables them to produce good. It is not of yourself (Ephesians 2:8, 9). The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked (Jeremiah 17:9). The sooner you consider that and begin to comprehend it, the more God is able to work through you and make something of your life. When you fall to the ground and place your lips against the dust of the earth and cry out,  "Lord, I am truly a sinner, please help me", then, at last, there may be hope for you (Lamentations 3:28, 29). Prior to my chauffeur duties, I had submitted an application to the U.S. Forest Service. In the early summer of 1997 they called me. They told me that, out of many qualified applicants, I had been the only veteran who had applied for a technicians position in the Angeles National Forest. The job was to assist in the operation and preservation of the off highway vehicle (OHV) area in the San Gabriel Canyon. When they asked me to come out for an interview I was elated, to say the least. I interviewed with them in a field office, surrounded by white granite mountains and tall, cone-bearing pine trees. The San Gabriel River moved powerfully yet with much grace over a picturesque, boulder strewn wash nearby. We could hear it as we conversed.— With what they called, veterans preference, they hired me on the spot. In a couple days I was issued uniforms, including the traditional forest green jacket with the Forest Service emblems on its upper sleeves. I didn’t know what to think and darn near didn‘t know how to act—like a little boy or a grown man or somewhere in between! All I know is that I went out among the rocks, fell to the ground, and gave thanks to the Lord for granting me the unearned privilege of earning a living in such a manner. I thanked Him over and over, day after day for the job. I also thanked a good fellow by the name of John Seals. At the time, John did not know, nor did I, that the Lord had worked through him to put me in that position. He was the fella who hired me on the spot. It wasn't until I saw John again, just recently in fact, that I was able to tell him what his kindness to me, some seven plus years ago, had eventually produced. I told him that he indeed had a great part in the birth of Hiking the Trail of Truth, the website that is now known around the world.— Anyway, I went at the forestry experience hard back then and learned well. I figured I was as happy as a squirrel in a walnut tree in those days. As for the pancreatic problems, well, if you carry a shovel in your truck, the outdoors is one giant toilet— I was free! I took to hiking on most of my days off. Hiked a lot during my work routine as well. I had hiked most all of my life, but at this time I turned into one hiking son-of-a-gun. What grand therapy this honor became!  I hiked the highest mountain in southern California; San Gorgonio (Old Grayback). I hiked all the mountains in the San Gabriel range and many of the San Bernadino mountains. My hiking partner, when I had one, was a dentist; Dr. Mike J. Mucci, of Glendora California. I had trained Mike as a reserve officer while on the PD, back in the late 80’s. He became my dentist after that. When we learned that we shared a common interest in hiking, we hiked; Strawberry Peak, Mt. Baldy, and many other notable peaks in the San Gabriel range. In August of '98, we climbed the highest in the contiguous United States; a rugged, High Sierra wonder known as Mt. Whitney, and that's a story all by itself. We had each climbed it at separate times before, but the '98 climb was truly memorial for both of us. You can see the adventure on HTTOT video # 9, or visit the High Sierra Trail at this website. I will talk of that monumental experience a little more, momentarily. Naturally, when you're out hiking, you spend much time in thought. I spent most all of that time looking over my life and thinking about God. After all, I hiked in some very desolate areas and extreme wilderness; the high places where there were few humans about; only the most dedicated to hiking. It was indeed a pleasure to meet someone on the trail. I would always comment in some way as to God's grace upon us. People seem the most encouraged about God in their conversation when they're out on the trail. I believe that's because it's how we're meant to be as well as where we're meant to be. It would seem that one could feel God's presence most vividly amidst His wonders; through the deserts and back country, and most strongly in the high country. One reason why I see it that way is because it's the easiest place to concentrate on it. I mean it's quiet out there—why wouldn't God be there?  That's one place He can get through to you; where He can open up your eyes and your ears and cause you to stop in your tracks and listen. He can even walk along with you and talk with you as a friend and, oh, how we so desperately need His counsel!  King David loved to meditate on God in the wilderness. He wrote, I have more understanding than all my teachers, for Your testimonies are my meditation (Psalm 119:99). As I said earlier, through thinking about my life and God, I started talking about His creation on video. I would pick a remote spot to set up the camera, and I would talk. I would even talk to the camera as I was hiking. As I informed you earlier, I was into video making. Early in my police career, I got interested in video photography and made tapes of police activities, but mostly of our off-duty adventures. Lot's of tapes were made from '87 to '93. Adventures of the good ol' boys, we called them. They were pretty rowdy, to say the least, but made for a whole lot of laughs, even when we watched them over and over again. I learned to edit a little bit, which helped the productions. I never did own expensive equipment, and edits and copies on half-inch (VHS) tape are not of the greatest quality, but there was always enough behind the stories to keep you interested. Anyway, as I was hiking and talking to the camera, I decided I wanted to create a video series and call it, Hiking the Trail of Truth. It all started on a day off, in a wash on the north side of the San Gabriels, near a unique rock formation called, the Devils Punchbowl. The Devil's Punchbowl is merely a multicolored rock formation, bowl shaped and quite visible from the higher trails. In fact, I was hiking up Mt. Baden-Powell with and old friend, Ed Ostashay, when we saw the Punchbowl, some 7000 feet below us. It was a beautiful formation from up there, and I told Ed that I was going to seek it out within the next few days. I later found it an easy hike to the Punchbowl from a sand wash just to its east. I remember that it was in September of '97, on a weekday, in beautiful weather, and the six mile round trip hike took just over two hours. I saw no one else in the Punchbowl or on the trail.— That was how the series started. I just couldn’t imagine that there was no one around. Where was everybody?  Where were their minds?  Didn't anyone want to be out in this place; to walk in the beauty of its silence and contemplate God?  That became the theme of my first video. I wanted to share with others what life had so graciously taught me. I wanted them to understand the truth about life; the truth about God's existence, through His creation. I must say that I was moved to tears in thinking about it. Emotion comes easy when you've made a wreck of your life, and then God suddenly gives you thoughts of hope or a nudge of some kind or another to let you know He's still there. He does this often, and usually when you least expect it. You just have to be looking for it in order to see it. From the time of my chauffeur duties and while with the Forest Service (1997), I was again renting a room in the home of my friend in Sierra Madre, Sandie Eisenhower. By the end of my second video, I was really starting to get into the teaching. I had a mailing list of about fifty people, mostly friends and relatives at that time. I mailed out one video to them each month, beginning in January of 1998. I also sent a newsletter with each one, describing the contents of the film, and wrote short articles of inspiration to go along with them. By that time, to save a little money and be closer to my work, I had moved to the Forest Service barracks in the Crystal Lake area of the Angeles National Forest. I was one of two full time occupants in the barracks, located in a grove of pines amid the granite boulders, just above the 6000 foot level. It was indeed a wonderful place for inspiration. I put out several videos that year, using Crystal Lake, Mt. Whitney area, the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley and Arches National Park as scenery backdrops. Sandie had traveled with me to most of those distant places, and assisted me in the making of the films. Sandie is a talented painter, and I have used her work and continue to use it in some of the series material. She was destined to design the Hiking the Trail of Truth website in 2002. As I mentioned a little earlier, Mike Mucci and I climbed Mt. Whitney in August of 1998. Video Volume 9 in the HTTOT series was a result of that memorable hike. It has to do with life's turning points. Mt. Whitney has become very special in my life. I can send you the video, and/or you can hike the High Sierra Trail at this website; hike # 7; Your Monuments, and learn of its particular inspiration. (Note: I can happily say that I have never charged anyone money for any HTTOT materials. Why should anyone charge for what God has so graciously taught them? Freely you have received, then freely give. Whoever you are, don't start thinking you can use Godliness as a means of gain. If you have been using it as a means of gain, get out from under it. There are indeed many ways.) The other occupant in the Forest Service barracks was a fellow named Hal Deckhert. Hal worked for L & L campground management, a private group who operated the large campground at Crystal Lake. Hal also assisted me on a couple of the films. We shared equal enthusiasm for the Lord and for the high country. He and I eventually developed a way to talk to the many coyotes in the area; that's on film too!  We spent time among the bears, the big-horned sheep, the hawks, the owls and the eagles. We conversed often with campers about these wonders of the Lord. Hal was indeed a great inspiration and a faithful brother in the outreach of the truth. (He has since moved to Needles, California. I hope to visit with him someday and talk with him once again about those days of high adventure.)  Other forest workers would visit and sometimes spend the weekend at the barracks, and since all loved the outdoors, they took an interest in the Hiking the Trail of Truth series. One individual, Storm Yetter, was baptized. In about July of ‘98, I made the 7th video volume of the series and titled it, the Scumbag Dilemma. It was about the dilemma of the sin nature, of which we all share. A couple of the scenes were shot while I was out patrolling in a Forest Service vehicle. I shared a copy of the finished product with a lady that worked for the Forest Service Fire Department, who had shown an interest in learning about God. It must have offended her, as she took the film to Forest Service Headquarters and gave it to the District Ranger, complaining that I was using Forest Service time and equipment to promote religion (a couple brief shots of my Forest Service pick-up truck, as well as me in their uniform, were in the film). I was called into the District Ranger’s office on the matter. She didn’t say much, she just wanted to know if I took the shots on Forest Service time. I told her I was on my lunch hour during the filming. The Ranger knew that I had a good record with the Forest Service. She herself had written a commendation on my saving a family in their stranded vehicle during the high water season. About two weeks later I was advised by my supervisor, John Seals, that there would be no disciplinary action regarding the film, but, my seasonal contract with the Forest Service would not be renewed for the fall/winter season of 1998-99. I was deeply saddened by the outcome, but was able to immediately go to work for American Land and Leisure (with my friend Hal Deckhert), the private campground management company I mentioned earlier, who managed Crystal Lake as well as other Forest Service campgrounds. The Lord indeed works in mysterious ways; I was able to remain in the Forest Service barracks, and I continued the film series for a total of nine films by December of 1998. It was a productive year!   I was eventually promoted to Area Manager with ALL, through the efforts of two superiors; Emil Madsen and Thom Hutchinson. In March of 1999 I was asked if I wanted to go to the Stumpy Meadows Lake and Campground area of the El Dorado National Forest, in northern California’s gold country. They wanted me to manage the area, under the supervision of the Forest Service, for the 1999 camping season. I happily agreed to the offer, and went down the mountain at the first opportunity to purchase an older travel trailer, which would become my home on wheels. It was indeed a fine trailer!  I pulled it up to Crystal lake where I began some detail work on it in preparation for yet another new adventure... Chapter Six of seven In early April I traveled north to Orem Utah in the company of Thom Hutchinson, who had been my mentor at Crystal Lake, preparing me for the area manager position at Stumpy Meadows. There we attended an area managers meeting with other folks who made up the campground managing staff of American Land and Leisure. It was exciting training, where we learned the latest techniques of camp management and host supervision. It was a two day experience in learning, and adding to that adventure was an exquisite view of the high, snowcapped mountains of the eastern Salt Lake Basin. The round trip driving to and from Orem, over and through Utah's vast, red rock canyons, was equally inspiring. The beautiful things which God has allowed me to see and to comprehend, when I have so utterly failed Him along life's trail, continue to this day to amaze me. His mercy is new every morning (Lamentations 3:23). When Thom and I returned to the Angeles, we began to prepare for our new season positions. Thom would be going to El Dorado as well, managing several Union Valley Reservoir camping areas just east of Stumpy Meadows. He and I would be able to meet in Placerville once a week to enjoy breakfast, do our banking, and discuss mutual campground duties and upcoming events. I soon left Crystal Lake and the Angeles Forest while Thom stayed behind to complete the training of new area managers and to introduce them to the Forest Service district. He would proceed to El Dorado in a week or so and meet with me in Placerville at our first convenience. I had a Ford F-350 pickup truck at that time which easily pulled my old Prowler trailer through some steep northern California canyons and on into Georgetown, some five-hundred miles north of Los Angeles. Georgetown was the home of the Ranger Station whose Forest Service crew would oversee the Stumpy operation. They turned out to be some nice folks and, after directing me to Stumpy, sent a man out to instruct me on the camp's water system. There was no electricity at the campgrounds, nor at the boat ramp on the lake. There were no flush toilets and no trailer sewer hook-ups, save one. It was primitive camping all around, but was a pleasantly quiet area with towering pine trees that surrounded a beautiful lake. The nearest store was about ten miles east, toward the Ranger Station, which was sixteen miles east of the campgrounds and four miles west of Georgetown. Again, there was one sewer hook-up; at the camp manager's site which I would occupy. The campgrounds would require much cleaning up and the sites needed to be fully raked of winter debris, but I was more than ready. There would be some picnic table painting, some outdoor restroom cleaning and painting, some sign posting and other types of organizational work, which suited me just fine. What a kindness God had extended me! I was a man who had learned to live simply, like Jeremiah Johnson, and was right happy about it!  There was the main campground, with about 40 sites, the group campground with 4 big sites, the overflow camp with about 18 sites, and the boat ramp parking area, which was about a half acre. People were allowed to camp in the parking lot overnight. There was also a large picnic area at the lake, and plenty of beach area for folks to wander on or just sit around. The lake was about 360 acres, large enough for several fishing boats and open to swimmers. The speed limit on the lake was 5mph. I never had any trouble in two seasons of boaters—lucky, I guess. The Fish and Game didn't patrol the lake all that often, but most folks followed the rules. There were some illegal campfires on the far side of the lake now and then, but I couldn't get to them and wasn't given that responsibility. The Forest Service didn't patrol over there that much either, but when they did, they would issue tickets to folks and send them on their way. I would hear about it through camper's scuttlebutt and the local Forest Service law enforcement officer, who would drop by to visit with me on occasion. I met a local transient type fellow on light disability, Ray Laird, who helped me to get the place cleaned up and open for the season. A few other folks volunteered. We did a lot of work. The Forest Service told us that it was the cleanest they had ever seen the campgrounds in years. We cut some new trails, rocked and signed them, always raked sites when people left, and even decorated the site picnic tables with pine cones. You could eat off the outdoor toilets, if you were so inclined, and we used bleach to cut down the odor. They were usually fine until it was time to pump them, then the smell kind of hung around for awhile and traveled into the camp. I never did resent the fact that I had to clean toilets; any type of permanent work in that beautiful country was envied by most who visited it. I couldn't pay Ray much, but he camped free on the boat ramp all season (no toilet smell over there), and got about ten hours pay a week. He did so well that I was able to get him a full time position at Thom's area for the following season. Thom visited my campgrounds a couple times, as I did his, and we met once a week in Placerville during the summer. I didn't do much filming, being at that time unable to afford the productions (tapes, cost of mailing, etc), but the campground duties gave me time to write, and I continued the Hiking the Trail of Truth effort through a series of newsletters (five in 1999). I made copies of them at the Forest Service office once a month, and continued to mail them out to an ever-growing list of recipients. I taught spiritual lessons through them, geared mostly toward God's wilderness areas and hiking. I even worked on a couple booklets and devotionals that have since then become incorporated into the website. All the while, God was teaching me many things through the avenue of His creation, and through my experiences with folks in the wilderness. That doesn't mean that I didn't make mistakes or think about sinning, it just means that the location in which I was living made it more practical (less polluted by the attitudes of the world) for God to communicate with me. I was and still am only a man, a product of the earth, and prone to wander. I always tried to be nice to folks; informative, and considerate of their wilderness experiences, but there were times when I didn't feel like talking and kept to myself. I've since learned that those times, those feelings, are all part of growing up in the Lord. Patience with life and with one's self is the most difficult thing to learn, and all things which one takes the time to consider do give birth to understanding. Way back in 1992, the doctor who handled my pancreatic disorder advised me that, due to the damage to my pancreas, I would probably develop diabetes about seven or eight years down the road. He was right. About mid-season, I found myself getting very tired physically while raking campsites. I could usually rake 40 of them in a couple of hours. But during one week there, I got tired after raking just two sites. I felt somewhat light-headed for a few days after that, and could not seem to find any energy to complete my campground tasks. I finally went to a Georgetown doctor. My blood-sugar checked in at over 500, when 70 to 120 is normal. The rest is history. I am still a type 2 diabetic, which means I can get by on light insulin, as long as I exercise daily and remain active. I had no weight problems to worry about. I have always been a thin fellow and hope to remain that way. I got use to taking the insulin shots, and haven't, to this point in time, had any major problems as a result of the diabetes. It did put a little damper on life though at that point in time; I couldn't be Jeremiah Johnson anymore. I don't think he had diabetes. Even if he did, he didn't have to carry insulin around with him. It turned out that I had to try and be Mark Taylor from then on. My friend, Sandie, made a couple camping trips to Stumpy that season with her daughter and son-in-law. She had moved from southern California to be near her daughter in the Santa Rosa area, the coastal wine country about 200 miles west of Placerville. They enjoyed my campfires on their visits, and we always ate good when Sandie was cooking. She had taken a position with an RV sales company in Santa Rosa, and had herself purchased a tent trailer from the outfit. It wasn't hard to travel with, and became a conversation piece in the campground. That's how those kinds of sales are made, I guess. Campin' folks are always looking for a better way to camp. Most start with tents and work their way on up to trailers or motor homes.— I loved my trailer, even though it was an ol' timer. I knew that I could change my backyard scenery about anytime I wanted to, as long as I could afford to travel from one place to another. The seasonal campground work allowed me to do that for about three years. I can't say it was the best time of my life, but it was indeed the most continually inspiring. I had solar panels on my trailer and could run a word processor, a VCR, or a TV without plugging into conventional electricity. The inside of the trailer had a good floor plan, and I had decorated it with an outdoor taste. Like I mentioned earlier, there is nothing like a home on wheels. When my camp seasons ended, I spent the first couple months traveling in the trailer. Sandie would always take vacation from her work and join me for the first couple weeks. We always headed into Indian country (Utah and Arizona) first. After all, the rock formations are great evidences of God's handiwork, and I have always felt the most comfortable, the most peaceful in their presence. The rocks and brush in these areas have varied and distinct scents. There are myriads of shapes and colors among the rocks, and with each exploration of the country new discoveries are made. I am humbled when I walk among them, each and every time I walk among them, never wanting my encounter to end. The first year of the off season we took the northern route from Auburn California to Utah, and then headed southeast toward Arches National Park. We visited Monument Valley, Grand Canyon, and headed south to Saguaro National Monument, then onto Tombstone Arizona, experiencing some great camping in each of the areas mentioned. I took some videos of much of the scenery for a future film (video # 10), and we headed on toward Albuquerque New Mexico. There, Sandie boarded a train to return to Santa Rosa. I was going to spend that winter with my daughter in Ohio, and made my way from Albuquerque, camping in the trailer along the way. I arrived in Ohio in November, and stayed with my daughter and son-in-law on their five acre farm in the Amish country. They put me up in the basement recreation room, and I worked a few days a week with Chad, my daughter's husband, who owns his own plumbing business. I was able to visit Marc, who lives in nearby Wooster, and also spent a good bit of time with Mitch, who lives down along the Ohio River. My sister lives nearby as well, so all in all it was a nice vacation. I wasn't use to that cold winter though, but it afforded me several opportunities to hike through the snow in some local state parks. While there I also continued the newsletter series, and made some headway on the aforementioned video. March 2000 was approaching and I was somewhat torn between staying in Ohio, to be near my grown children and grandchildren, or returning to the campgrounds for another season. I tried a factory job (which was the only thing available) and I lasted about a month. It was fairly demanding and my being on insulin made it somewhat inconvenient for me. There was also little time for restroom breaks and it was a long walk to a toilet. I had to give it up. That experience helped to convince me that God wanted me back where His inspiration could continue to be put to good use; in the western terrain I loved so much. March came quickly and I was truly glad to leave Ohio's cold weather behind. My daughter wanted me to stay, and was slightly upset that I was again leaving to such a far away destination. She's always been worried about my health since I developed the diabetes. Mitch on the other hand knew well that I would go back west once again. He had of course lived with me out there, and he knew that the "west" was who I was. He seemed to sense it more than I did. I took the southern route, going through Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. I lost one solar panel from the top of the trailer in a cyclone, near Pecos Texas. My insurance company was generous in replacing it, giving me a little extra cash to make it to the campgrounds. I continued along the southern route and stopped in Arcadia California to visit some of the old PD friends before going on north to Orem Utah and the annual area manager's meeting. I met with Thom when I arrived in Orem. There were of course training classes, and also the enjoyment of delightful breakfasts and dinners with familiar fellow employees. After three days in Orem I headed west on I-80 through Nevada and then hit the back roads of California, onto Georgetown and Stumpy Meadows. It was April (I was a little early in my arrival) and there was still snow in the campground, but I had no difficulty in setting up. I met with Ray Laird, who helped me to get things cleaned up before he headed to Union Valley to work with Thom for the season. Ray had his own area to manage, about 40 sites, and did a great job. I made a couple trips to that area to visit with him during the summer. I also managed to mail out the first booklet on Hiking the Trail of Truth that year, 37 copies or more, 116 pages in color; A Profound Look at Pure Reality. I also had mailed out a total of nine newsletters by the end of that year. I had no one to cover the boat ramp during the camping season, so I was quite busy. I hired some willing campers now and then to help with site duties, which helped the season run smoothly. Some of the folks who camped there that season evolved into Hiking the Trail of Truth newsletter subscribers. I shared some great campfire conversations about the Lord with some of them. I got into a little trouble with the Forest Service that year however. One camper complained about Ray and I shooting a BB gun in my campsite. By the time the complaint got around, I was shooting at trees with a Winchester 30-30. It turned out that the fellow who complained was a real basket case. He lived with about thirty stray cats in his trailer, and wrote his congressman about every event in life that he wasn't agreeable with. The whole thing blew over, but it caused a little communication gap between myself and the Forest Service. Then, when I helped a Forest Service law enforcement officer deal with a group of violent belligerents, that really stirred the pot. The officer was indeed grateful to me for saving her life, but the top Forest Service brass looked at it as something the campground manager should not have been involved in. One of those bureaucracy things, ya know? When I left Stumpy at the end of that season (October of 2000), I could have returned the following season. My company manager had mended fences with the Forest Service and I planned to return, but that's not the way things turned out: After another trip into Indian country with my friend, Sandie, I ended up in Quartzsite Arizona for the winter, working as an assistant in a private RV park. Ray Laird came down for the winter as well. He enjoyed hanging around with me. He said that I got him the first job he ever had since he had gone on disability for seizures many years before. He liked the campground life, and wanted to work wherever I worked. He became a loyal friend, something quite rare nowadays. As I mentioned earlier, we both planned to go back to the El Dorado for the 2001 season, but there were some financial difficulties. We didn't have enough money to travel on, and I was having some problems with the Ford. Ray's old jeep was about done in as well, pulling his 24 footer down from the El Dorado. When the season was nearly upon us, there was just no way I could afford to go to the area manager's meeting. After notifying American Land and Leisure that we wouldn't make it that year, Ray and I decided we should try and make Bullhead City Arizona, not too far up the road. We figured we could work at the Casino's in Laughlin Nevada, just across the Colorado River. Jobs were plentiful there, and the nearby trailer parks were affordable. Quartzsite was starting to get a little warm, and things would shortly be closing up there for the summer. It was March of 2001. There were many beautiful rock formations along the Colorado River, and most of the cactus buds and other wildflowers were starting to bloom. To me, this desert country had walked right out of the Bible. However, working in a high-rise casino was not like working in a campground. I felt somewhat fenced in. I did manage however to save up some money to fix my truck. The repairs were a bit expensive, and I had to borrow a little extra money from my sister and my oldest son, Michael, in order to complete the work (I stayed poor for quite some time; it took me over two years to finally pay them back). I continued working on the Hiking the Trail of Truth newsletters and continued work on the tenth video in the series. My focus of course began to slip, as working in the casino eventually led to playing in the casino. Gambling, like any other lust of our nature, can consume you. I'm not sure if it is just the lure of money alone, because, unless you are extremely lucky, you cannot get rich in a casino. I believe it is our "hidden" desires or anxieties that cause us to continue to indulge in things that may not be in our best interest; those deep yearnings for something better that seem to dominate our lower nature and long to control our entire being. Through those desires we can become workaholics, we can over eat, we can take up smoking or use dangerous drugs, we can indulge in all sorts of immoral sexual activities, we can lie, steal and cheat, and we can even murder. All of these things begin with some form of desire, which brings forth a variety of anxieties and lusts that eventually give birth to sin. Satan uses the majority of our anxious desires to distract us from the things of God. Is all desire evil?  No. Desire that is motivated by the Spirit of God cannot be evil. The desire to be patient, to be gentle, to be kind, to be merciful, to walk in God’s way, is not evil desire. But those particular desires do not come from our nature. Our nature is against God (Romans 8:7). Our hearts are deceitful and desperately wicked (Jeremiah 17:9). How can our heart produce right desires? I recently read three books by a best selling Christian author; The Sacred Romance, The Journey of Desire, and Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. The sum total of the teaching which these books produce is that there is good somewhere down in our hearts; that God put it there, that it is a part of us. We were created in His image, therefore we have the ability within ourselves to do good; we have desires that are good, and so on... The author makes a fine case, and I respect and appreciate his efforts, but he has missed the most important point of human nature. It is a very fine line and quite difficult to discern, yet it is in fact reality: No good can be produced by any human heart. We are a fallen being. Good is only produced when God works through the heart to produce it. Good does not have its origin within us. In other words, It is the Spirit of God, and only the Spirit of God, working through the heart (mind or soul or being, if you will) that produces good... Flesh and blood do not reveal good. That Jesus was the son of God was not a conclusion of Peter’s heart, but was revealed to his heart and through his mouth by the Spirit of God (Matthew 16:17).  In the very same way, we produce good. If we quote Scripture with a truthful motive, it is always good. If we speak according to God’s will, it is always good. If we are motivated to do a kindness to another, it is good because it is God’s Spirit working through our heart that has motivated us to do it. In addition to food, man can only live by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God (Deuteronomy 8:3, Matthew 4:4).  Without God's words, which can only come through His Spirit, we are dead. Therefore, for the desires of our heart to be good, they must be produced by the Spirit of God. How else would we know that Christ lives in us?  By the fruit of ourselves?  No, but by the fruit of the Spirit. For if we are led by the Spirit of God, we are the sons of God  (Romans 8:14). The Spirit of God does not work in every heart, but can work through any heart; Did He not harden the heart of the Pharaoh of Egypt against Moses?  Did He not give Pontius Pilate, a Roman governor, the power to crucify or release Jesus?  The Scriptures teach that God creates some of us for honor, and some of us for dishonor. This is one of the great mysteries of the Bible. Who can understand it?  Who can know the mind of God? — We are corrupt, and the Spirit of God is indeed a gift. If it is moving and active in your life, obey it, and do not boast in it.  He, or she, that believes and is baptized shall be saved, and he/she shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.— But remember this; as a Christian who has the Spirit of God dwelling within you, you can still grieve the Spirit.  Unless you allow yourself to be controlled by the Spirit, you can quench it.  Your human nature is not subject to the will of God, and cannot be, as we have previously pointed out through this entire writing. Yet, because of the Spirit of God, good is within you, engaged in fierce battle against evil everyday. This battle is indeed much like the drama of Star Wars.— Now that you have finally learned where the "good" that is within you ("the force") truly comes from, you can submit to that revelation and allow God the victory. Only God is good. When you can accept that fact, only then will your eyes be opened to the deceitfulness of sin. May the force be with you. (Isaiah 40:13   Acts 2:38   Ephesians 4:30   1st Thessalonians 5:19   Romans 8:7   Matthew 19:17) After working in the casino for about six months, it was time to leave. I wasn't getting anywhere, and saw no future there, barely living from one payday to the next. The area scenery was breathtaking and always inspiring to the point of being medicinal, but at that time I truly needed a change in my work environment. The consequences of my giving up police retirement benefits were once again upon me, yet, without difficulties no true knowledge could be gained. Whether we like them or not, hardships are always growth hormones at work. To find contentment in hardships, especially if they are the result of your own decisions, is grace (Philippians 4:11-13). — My friend, Sandie, suggested that I come north to Santa Rosa California. She was confident that I could find a job there, and she thought I could learn the computer and perhaps build a website for my series. She said she had been working on some ideas, and she herself was becoming quite computer literate. She was living with her daughter and family at that time, and thought that the two of us could afford a place of our own to share, giving her a little more room. It sounded like a good idea, and I was surely ready to travel a little (that's always medicinal too). I said good-bye to my good friend, Ray, and pulled out of Bullhead City in September of 2001. Ray's father lived in nearby Lake Havasu, and Ray had just heard from his daughter, whom he hadn't seen in many years. She was about to travel from back east somewhere to Arizona and take up residence with Ray for a while. She was also about to give birth to Ray's first grandchild. I was indeed happy for him!   Things are continuing to go well for Ray, and he's still living in Bullhead City and working in Laughlin at the Colorado Belle.— As for me, I was lucky to make it to Santa Rosa that September day. My truck started overheating about a hundred miles west of Arizona, and during the next six-hundred miles I stopped about six times to refill the radiator.— So much for being able to enjoy a peaceful, scenic, medicinal journey. The cooling system gave out just as I pulled into a Wallmart parking lot about two miles south of Santa Rosa—talk about luck—or, was it Divine Providence at work once again?  Never doubt that some of your worst times and your best times come through the hand of God; He is the Master Builder, and knows exactly what you need at any given moment. The thought of that miracle (ie: God knowing exactly what you need at any given moment) is much more comforting and fulfilling than depending upon luck or chance. Chapter Seven of seven Sandie had found a little cottage for rent in a rural RV park. It was small, but the rent was reasonable. I borrowed a pickup from her employer to haul my trailer from the Wallmart to the cottage property. My truck, its cooling system gone, remained in the Wallmart parking lot for about two weeks, where I finally sold it to a restoration buff for a mere three hundred dollars. Not long after that, I had to sell my trailer as well. I hated to say good-bye to both of those vehicles; my entire way of life for nearly three years... My home on wheels was gone, and I continue to this day to miss the spiritual freedom of life on the road, but there wasn't really any choice; I needed money to pay some old bills and to obtain a vehicle that was practical to my situation. At that time I went to work for a Home Depot about two miles from where we lived. I rode my bicycle some days, but walked to work most of the time. A few weeks passed by and I found a Jeep Wagoneer; an ’87 model, which I purchased for about thirty-five hundred dollars. It was a four-wheel drive, and in good shape. I am still driving it to this day. I discovered some local trails to hike for inspiration and continued to work on the newsletters (mailed out five that year). In December, I completed the tenth video for the series; A Spiritual Adventure.  January 2002 began the rainy season in Santa Rosa. I love the rain and I welcomed in the new year with much appreciation, but, for some reason, I allowed a bit of depression to at that time take root... Still haunted by regrets of giving up that police retirement, and not having the freedom to come and go as I had done while a campground manager, and tired of the digestive problems and diabetes monitoring and not feeling strong enough to physically continue at the Home Depot, and finally, not yet motivated for the computer work that Sandie had wanted me to undertake... I quit the Home Depot job and drove back to Ohio to stay with my sister for awhile.— I suppose you could call it running away. But sometimes you just have to run until you can sort things out and find yourself once again. God was of course taking care of me. At that time however I just wasn't ready to accept the way He was doing it. It was May of 2002. I guess I needed to be around my only sister for a time. I needed to visit the resting places of my parents. I needed to connect with some old, familiar surroundings; the parks I had played in and the trails I had hiked over and over as a boy. I wanted to try and understand why I had allowed life to turn out the way it did. I even thought, once again, ‘Maybe I should really be here instead of out west’.— You would think by this time that I would have learned my lesson with Ohio. You would also think that, by now, I had surely dealt with the weaknesses and mistakes of my former years. Yet, the arrows of lifelong guilt were once again being fired at me; an entire quiver full!  Satan was and always has been relentless for my destruction. He does not want any of us to trust in God. These natural longings regarding my life were one way for him to keep me in the deep pit of guilt, where escape becomes extremely difficult. I have allowed myself to return to this destructive pit several times over the years. Most suicides are committed when one is in this pit. Dwelling on unredeemable failures only fuels that probability.— When we fail to rely on God's promises of forgiveness and attempt to reason with life through our own understanding, we open ourselves to a consuming fire. Most of us experience these longings of despair; the longings to know who and what and sometimes why we are. You would think, that if we truly knew God, we would always know who and what and why we are. You would think that we would consider the many times we were down in the pit throughout life, yet He provided a way back up. You would think that we would remember seeing His providence at work from one day to another; there are so many small miracles!  But, it is our nature to fear and to doubt and to disbelieve, because we are prone to wander.— CS Lewis wrote:  Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love; here's my heart, O take and seal it; seal it for Thy courts above.— It doesn't take long for us to forget the greatest adventure of a lifetime; that of knowing God. Because of our natural, uncontrolled anxieties our faith is continually short lived. God could part the Red Sea once again, right in front of us, leading us to the greatest freedom we have ever known, and three days later we would find something to complain about. That’s what over one million Israelites did, did they not?  (Exodus 15:22-24) The Lord Jesus performed many miracles in the presence of his disciples while he was here on the earth. Many times during His three year ministry to them, they slipped into forgetfulness as well as unbelief:  John the baptist had borne witness to Jesus. He saw the Spirit of God descending upon Him and even heard the Father announce Him as His beloved Son. Yet, sometime later while John was in prison, he questioned Jesus’ deity.— When Jesus calmed the wind and the sea, just one of many miracles He had performed in front of His disciples, they became afraid, and wondered at His authority.— When Jesus asked Peter who He was, Peter replied, "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God."  Yet, Peter, a short time later, denied three times that he even knew Jesus.— When Jesus miraculously fed five-thousand people, then later miraculously feed four thousand, the disciples had not long afterward forgotten about both incidents.  There were many other occurrences of "short-term memory" ie: forgetfulness, lack of faith, and unbelief.— Finally, all of the disciples, forgetting who they were, forsook Jesus in His hour of need and fled from the garden of Gethsemane, where He was handed over to sinners to be mocked and later crucified. (Luke 7:18, 19,  Luke 8:24, 25,  Luke 9:20,  Luke 22:54-62,  Matthew 16:8-12,  Mark 14:50, 51) The Bible is full of examples of the forgetfulness of our human nature. We are but flesh!  This is the reason we lapse into those times of fear, doubt, unbelief and depression. This is the reason we seek to right old wrongs and find that we cannot. This is why we scurry about from one purpose to another or from one idea to another and even from one place to another, just to end up with ulcers or a variety of stress related illnesses. All of us are guilty of these things. Only an awareness of why we do these things will allow us to eventually overcome some of them; we are indeed prone to wander!  We are incapable of doing right (Romans 7:15-24).  These are the bottom line reasons we do these things. However, when we learn to focus entirely on the promises of God, then the Savior that we so desperately need becomes available. We can walk ahead in life, not looking back so intently, but looking forward; toward Jesus (Philippians 3:13, 14).  We can learn to be thankful that the experiences of life, both good and bad, have led us to this awareness; to this high point in our learning; that of depending on God's promises. Only then can we hope to accept the trail of life as God lays it out before us, and be extremely glad that He has, for some reason, considered us worthy of His salvation. I worked a couple of temporary jobs while I was at my sister’s, but I somehow knew I really didn’t belong there; in Ohio. God had something in mind for me and I figured I had better get back to the west coast, before I could not financially afford to go back. How did I know He had something in mind?  At the time I really didn’t know for sure, but if I stayed there and ran out of money, I would be so depressed that I would probably not be able to go on with life. It was such a let down from the previous years of my adventurous experiences! — Was I to think that I was at the end of my lifelong earthly trail?  Here?  Had I come all this way in life, through all those joys and trials, through success and failure, through all those battles with my natural self, through all those times I realized and welcomed God's chastening, through all those moments of enlightening self-discovery, just to end up in this barren land?  Perhaps, by birth, my roots were there, but I am a creature of the dust, formed by the hands of a heavenly King. If I couldn’t climb a mountain, sit among huge granite boulders, walk in a desert amidst the tall cactus, or touch exquisite red rock, I would probably go out and die of loneliness and a broken heart in some wooded area of the Ohio landscape. Die in Ohio?  What a sad, insignificant end to my life’s pursuits!  All my life God has shown me a variety of situations and great geologic wonders that have made me who I am. That is why I believe God wants me in the west. There was then and still is much work to do. The end of the trail is not yet, Lord willing. Besides, I'd like to die like an American Indian. If the world does not end prior to my death, if I am to exist until I stare death in the face, then I hope that my Father will allow me the honor, as my end draws near, of the strength to walk out into either the Mojave Desert, the High Sierra mountain range, the red rock of Utah, or the painted desert of Arizona’s Monument Valley, and to die in some remote area there. I will be indeed grateful. I might make a good meal for the coyotes and vultures—even the ants, and my dust will be picked up and scattered by the wind. What an honor! — An old friend from the APD days, Ken Petty, once remarked,  "The most fitting burial we can give Taylor is, when he dies, we’ll take his body up in Cudworth's airplane, put an explosive up his ass, light the fuse and throw him out over Mt. Whitney."  I don’t figure that will ever happen; State and Federal laws being against such foolishness, but it was a kind and kindred thought on Ken’s part. — I don't know if Jack Cudworth still has an airplane or not. When I got back to Santa Rosa, in early September of 2002, I immediately landed a security position with a company who assigned me as the roving patrol officer for the Kendall Jackson Wine Estates. Almost as immediate, Sandie began a design on the website that would become, Hiking the Trail of Truth. I bought a computer and learned its operation via the Video Professor CD series. I was surprised at how quickly those lessons took hold!  I then put my nose to the grindstone. By November, videos #11 and #12 were added to the series. On December 5th of 2002, the website went up on the Internet with its first official Newsletter and initial trail system. On December 25th, a second booklet; The Monuments, was mailed out to series subscribers. Within ten months the entire website trail system was complete, incorporating something of everything I had ever written in my lifetime. It was all that I had at that time to offer to the Lord. I then began a period of final edition edits which were completed by November, 2003. With the addition of this, A Hawk’s Trail (April 2005), the site is almost complete. I am still working on the Mountain and Valley Trail, hoping to complete the daily devotionals for an entire year by the close of 2005. The HTTOT Newsletters will continue indefinitely, and additional trails will be created, Lord willing, as needed. The Wilderness Trail and The Discovery Trail are the newest editions. Editing for clarity and readability will continue to be an ongoing process. The site is at this time available through several major search engines throughout the United States, and I have received positive, uplifting responses from all over the world. Those genuinely searching for both truth and comfort are finding it. I spend more time now doing what I should have been doing from a long time ago. Then again, I'm sure God did not feel that I was ready for this particular endeavor at an earlier time, and, of course, He was right... Due to the many encouraging, even flattering responses, I am compelled to tell you this: As I currently read over the website, I am utterly amazed. I could not have written these things without God's help. I could never have recalled to memory with such detail any of the scenery or the many events described therein, nor could I teach with such profoundness of truth and make it understandable to the reader, unless the Lord's hand was guiding me; unless He was standing over me with His right hand upon my shoulder. How on earth could such a miserable wretch as I ever create so many uplifting thoughts and words and make it all come together with such enlightening passion?  We can do nothing right, remember?  Is it not then profoundly evident?  ie: The Spirit of God speaks through the hearts of sinners. We are saved by unmerited, unfathomable grace. It is not of ourselves. It is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8, 9). Therefore take heart, those of you who think God has not used you or cannot use you. You don't need wealth or fame. You don't need possessions. You don't need to be perfect, because you cannot be perfect. But, you do need encouragement, and you need to encourage others—that's what love is all about. And remember, only God can work good through you. Only His goodness can encourage you and so allow you to encourage others. Again, the Apostle Paul was, according to his own words, the Chief of sinners. Yet, through him the major portion of the New Testament was written. I'm sure that I rank right up there with Paul as far as sinners are concerned, at least in my own mind, yet, God worked through me to produce Hiking the Trail of Truth. I am equally sure He has worked through me in other ways over the years that I am not even aware of !  He has worked through many people in various ways to accomplish His will over the last six-thousand years (ie: from the beginning). He can work through you as well in this present age, if you allow Him to do so. He knows you and has had a plan for you since before the foundation of the world; you need to read Psalm 139. As long as I keep my focus on God and pursue His purpose for me, He will continue to use me to both live and spread his truth. Like Paul, during his earthly lifetime, I have not attained perfection, nor have I laid hold on eternal life. But I press on, reaching for those things which are ahead; that splendid trophy if you will—salvation in all of its fullness—life in glory. Do I continue to make mistakes?  Yes. Do I fail daily?  Yes; didn't the Apostle John say that if we claim we have no sin, we are liars? (1st John 1:8-10)  Am I disappointed with myself?  Of course I am, we will always fall short. But one thing I have learned and now know; God’s promises never fail. You must learn to count on them. Trust. For it is through His great and precious promises alone, and not through any means of our own, that we have any hope whatsoever.— But you may ask,  'How then could Paul say that he had fought the good fight, that he had finished the race, that he had kept the faith, and that there is laid up for him the crown of righteousness?' Paul understood at this point that his impending death was an offering to Christ. He knew that he had fought in life to preserve his faith; He knew that he had kept faith in God's promises and was about to give his life as proof. He knew that Christ holds the crown of righteousness for all the faithful—eternal life that is given the believer at the climax of the process of sanctification. The crown is perfect righteousness; something Paul well knew that he could not attain on his own. He knew also that this crown would be given to all who look forward, in faith, to Christ's second coming (2nd Timothy 4:8).— Now, in view of this, I ask myself;  'Do I really have my nose to the grindstone this time?  Are my days of wandering into sin over?  Will I learn patience with what life has dealt me and come full circle in realizing that God is in control?'  Holiness is not something you can attain; it is only something God can give you; He died for us, and He has forgiven us through faith in His promises (2nd Peter 1:4). This is what Paul meant when he said that he had fought the good fight:  He believed in the promises of God! Since we have been forgiven, why then should we continue to strive against sin?  Because God gave us life by taking our sins away. It is our love and appreciation for Him and His grace upon us (working through our hearts) that gives us the will and the strength to overcome sin. Do you want to overcome sin?  Do you want to remain pure through the One who has made you pure?  Do you think that if you continue in sin grace will abound?  That will never happen. You are the servant of whom you obey. You can choose the kingdom of God, or the kingdom of Satan. Everyone is a servant in one kingdom or the other. There is no in between. Therefore, do not let sin rule as the king of your body, that you should obey it in its lusts. *Allow God's Spirit to put to death the deeds of your body. Strive to give your life and the members of your body to God, as one who is alive from the dead. Sin will not then have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace (Romans 6,  *Romans 8:9-14). To put this in perhaps everyday English, I stumbled across one commentator who has written thusly:  *Believers find within themselves contrary urgings. The Spirit sustains their regenerate desires and purposes, but their fallen instincts (the "flesh") obstruct their path and drag them back. The conflict of these two is sharp. Paul says he is unable to do what is right, and unable to restrain himself from doing what is wrong (Romans 7:14-25). This conflict and frustration will be with Christians as long as they are in the body. Yet, by watching and praying against temptation, and cultivating opposite virtues, they may through the Spirit's help "put to death" particular bad habits (Romans 8:13, Colossians 3:5). They will experience many particular deliverances and victories in their battle with sin, while not being exposed to temptations that are impossible to resist (1st Corinthians 10:13). *Commentary on Sanctification, page 1806, New Geneva Study Bible, NKJV, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1995 edition. Don't be afraid of who you are. Write your own biography. Everyone's biography, whether small or great, is important to God. You may ask,  'If I am so important to God, why has my way been so difficult?'  A five word sentence can answer that: Difficulty gives birth to understanding.  We try to walk a straight path in life. When you get my age you look back at your footsteps and see where you went wrong. Examining yourself is a good place to begin to understand what being impure (sin) has done to your life. Again, realize that, as a human, you are totally helpless without God; unable to make sense of life. Like me or anyone else, you've done nothing to earn salvation, and everything to receive damnation... But, everyone has something to share with others; to shed some light on our dark side. This is how we can learn to love and encourage one another, which is something we are instructed to do daily. This is how our faith in our Savior grows, eliminating us from our personal limelight. Know also that yesterday is gone; you can't get it back. However, remind yourself that God's mercy is new every morning. It will help your spirit to begin each day afresh, no matter what happened the day before. (Lamentations 3:22-24) Epilogue Life must be lived forward, but can only be understood backward... My pursuit of the hawk is merely an overview of my life. I have made grievous mistakes, yet I was allowed the undeserved honor of learning through them and from them. I was a terrible example to my family, and am quite worthy of death. I dishonored the God who formed me. I wanted you also to know that if I were to be given another chance at this earthly life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back. I would begin that life with a sincere and absolute reverence for God and His teachings. All of my thoughts, all of my actions, and all of my talents would be used to honor Him. I would begin each day on my knees, and ask Him for His guidance and protection throughout the day. No day is successful without Him. Most of all, I would ask that He would allow me to allow His love to rule my every word and my every movement.— As I am about to close this writing, you will probably want to know what I consider to be the biggest failure (sin) in my life. My life was plagued through adultery and its difficult aftermath. I broke faith with the wife of my youth (Malachi 2:14-16).  As a result, I have had to live with the ever-present consequences of that chosen path. Therefore, I would answer, stewardship... That particular word accounts for my life from the very beginning. It accounts for every sin or thought of sin that has ever proceeded from my heart.  Why?  Because everything you have is a gift from God; From the youngest person to the oldest who have ever crossed or been a part of your life's path. From the smallest joy to the greatest accomplishment, including any and all talents, occupational rankings, or particular insights that you may have. Everything you've ever owned, every penny you've ever held in your hand, every place you have ever been, and every thing you have been allowed to do, or not allowed to do. These are each and everyone blessings and/or gifts. How you have handled or will handle any and all of these things is entirely summed up in stewardship, because all things belong to God (1st Chronicles 29:14). He has only allowed you their use. They are truly just a loan that you have been given. I have been a poor steward most all of my life. My goal has been to no longer be a poor one. I have grieved the Lord most all of my life, and of that I am thoroughly ashamed. To be a better steward is my daily prayer to God. What is my favorite prayer? Once upon a time, many years ago, when I was taking a walk with Jenny, we saw a penny on the sidewalk in front of a local business. She asked me if I was going to pick it up. I replied, "No, whoever dropped it may discover its loss and return to look for it."  With thoughts of those innocent days in mind, my favorite prayer nowadays is as follows: Though I am far from noble, though I have gone so deeply astray, I can hope to be pure and honest through Your forgiveness, through obeying Your statutes, and by walking according to Your precepts. I am Yours, O Lord. Do with me what You will, and forever keep me in the shadow of Your wings.— I always pray for Jenny, she taught me more than anyone. I pray for each of my children; Mike, Mitch, Marc and Carrie, and for each of my grandchildren (Hannah Elizabeth, Ryan Phillip, Cameron Jacob, Bryce Thomas, Mason Riley, Cael Armstrong, Riley Virginia, and Michael Stephen— eight in all).  I pray for my sister, for relatives and friends, for the homeless and the helpless, and for those without God in this world. Each day I ask forgiveness for the failures of my life, and for the strength to do right with each new dawn. I also pray that those who are truly seeking God will find Him through me. God always answers prayer in one way or another. Don't ever doubt it. Instead, keep at it. For though our windy ways are but dust, God is forever faithful. Take a hike everyday and meditate on God's truth. Read His word and cease to worry; you are not in charge of finding your way. Wherever you are led or whatever you are led into, with as much as possible as is within you, give it your very best. Pray without ceasing.— Today, I was sitting on a large granite boulder, overlooking a spacious valley. I was reflecting on life, something I have done quite often these last weeks while writing this story. I was having a difficult time keeping my pipe lit in the wind. It reminded me that somewhere along the road of life, I died, and I have been struggling ever since to come back to life again.— I recall one time when my son Mitch was very young. We made up a batch of cookies, put them in a cookie tin, and walked together down a long, steep hill in the Ohio country to deliver them to a poor and needy family, whom we didn't even know. The family was so delighted, and we stayed and visited with them for some time. I'll not forget the feelings I had then. I have realized that those feelings were life at its fullest. Now I am old, and each days' existence depends entirely on the depth of my hope in Christ Jesus. My most crucial advice to you in your search for or walk with God, in spite of the stains of your sins, is that you learn to understand that you have great significance to Him. Whether you have great earthly accomplishments, or seemingly no accomplishments, whether you are President of the United States, or homeless on some lonely street in the filthiest part of town—you are important to God. The Bible is full of heroes, both great and small, some so small that only one sentence in the entire one-thousand-one-hundred-eighty-nine chapters of the Bible is devoted to them, and many of them are unnamed. They are listed as "a certain man" or "a certain woman", or described in another way without name. Yet, their contribution to God is significant enough to be mentioned by the Holy Spirit of God, who inspired those who wrote of their deeds in the Bible. Some are even mentioned only as "others" who did this or that, and are listed in faith's grand hall of fame (Hebrews, chapter 11). You may have gone a long way in life, not knowing if you ever did anything worthy of the Lord's attention. You may have accomplished something for Him, but amidst the struggles of life it seemed so insignificant to you that you have no memory or awareness of it. Or, you may be a young person, just starting out, on fire for the Lord and expecting to accomplish great things. Whichever of these you are, God will use you only as He chooses. He may use you for great things, or for just one, solitary, small thing in your entire lifetime. Bottom line—your life is not your own. God will form you as He wishes and will use you for His purpose, in His time, and what you do or have done will serve to glorify Him. That is His purpose for you. God has dealt with your sins, and He alone has the power to deal with them. Your efforts in anything or your failure at anything will not enrich nor thwart His ultimate plan for you. Trust then in Him alone; never trust in yourself. As for me, I hope to continue the website work, teaching others what I have learned. After all, that is my purpose. It took most of my life to discover my purpose;  On the Trail of Time there is a hike to Discovery Rock. There, I have written:  "From the tiny pebbles under my hiking boots, to the large boulders, slabs, and huge granite mountains upon which I have tread, I find an unequaled peace of spirit. Reaching out and touching any of these wonders that God has made, from the smallest pebble to the greatest rock, is more enlivening than I can describe. An excitement that literally burns within me, that yearns to radiate the wonder and joy and encouraging, comforting truth of God to the world... is the nearest I can come to describing it.— It is indeed a realization of the security and presence of God in His creation, echoing through my soul from this simple sense of touch that He has allowed me. The continuing discovery of these things of God, He has allowed me to relate to you throughout this series I have entitled; Hiking the Trail of Truth..." Hope is a good thing.— I hope that God will allow me to continue to inspire those who have phoned in or written in for help. I hope to remain faithful to my belief in His promises, and I hope to boldly give that particular encouragement to all whom I come in contact with. Please pray for me. Each day of life is a day of learning. I hope to imitate Paul, who welcomed all who visited him, proclaiming the kingdom of God with all boldness and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts 28:30, 31). I hope you find this story well written; by that I mean not that I am anyone special, but that you will both learn and benefit from it. I wanted to get it written before I passed on. God has allowed me that honor. So I now present this story to you... That hawk is still flyin’, but I am aboard now; on its back, headin’ toward home. I well know that I won't be the recipient of any "earthly" lifetime achievement award, but I do hope in God's mercy and trust in His promises. May the grace of God encourage and enlighten you as well, and I’ll be hoping to see you in the new world, where forever begins, according to His promise. Sincerely, Mark S Taylor, Hiking the Trail of Truth PS: I am currently living and working in the San Bernadino Mountains of southern California. Next year I will turn Social Security age (June of '07). Lord willing that I am still alive on the earth, I will be free to roam the wilderness areas of Arizona, California, and Nevada. I'm sure I will hit Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico as well. I'll still be Hiking the Trail of Truth in my retirement wanderings, and I am sure there will be some way we can correspond or visit, or maybe even hike together!  Perhaps we can sit on some rocks and discuss the wonders of surrounding scenery.  Anyway, I will have a PO box or an e-mail address somewhere. Maybe I can train a hawk to transport mail.— I just wanted to let you know my plans... Epilogue 2 October,  2007 Time has marched on since my original Epilogue. Over a year has passed since its completion and I now find myself back in northern California's wine country. Fate has led me here once again. It is now early October of 2007. Trial and learning continue to be my daily bread. How true is the proverb—A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps (Proverbs 19:9).  When that Social Security kicked in, I wanted to purchase a small tent trailer—to be free to roam the wilderness areas of Arizona, California and Nevada. I wanted to visit Utah, Colorado and New Mexico. I wanted to spread my wings like the hawk and soar into those desolate places and enjoy the wonders of my Creator. I also wanted to travel east to visit my grandchildren. But, those cherished plans of the heart are on hold due to some help I am compelled to give a friend... In San Bernadino County I was helping a long time friend (Sandie) care for he mother, who is in her eighties and afflicted with Alzheimer's disease. I did their shopping and ran all their errands in exchange for the monthly rent of a room. However, they had to sell the mother's residence there at Crestline, due to financial hardships, and Sandie chose to return to northern California to settle with her mother there. I had to pitch in and help as they would not have been able to handle the move alone, with all of its physical as well as spiritual requirements. Once we arrived in Petaluma, I contacted an old friend who set me up right away to manage a mobile home park, which offered a personal mobile home large enough for the three of us, at a reduced rental price. I was also able to return to work two days a week for the security company I had worked for five years earlier. I was even assigned to the same winery and former position of roving patrol officer. Everything needed at this critical time just seemed to fall into place: a place to rent, a home for Sandie and her mother, a little work, a lot of scenery for inspiration... The Lord speaks to us at times like this. When He provides, you can be sure He has a particular plan—a reason for things to be as they are or turn out the way they do. I have an unfinished life. Sometimes I feel that it's already finished—I've made my greatest mistakes and I live with the consequences. I just want now to fade away and be alone in the desert. I want to do my own thing now—free of any responsibilities. Yet, circumstances have allowed something different to take place. Why?  And what is the reason for all this?  What am I supposed to think—or how am I supposed to feel about what has been dealt?  I guess I want to rebel a little—yet I have been provided for and am not in want—except to do my own thing. I'm a little bit happy—I have no needs—and a little bit miserable—I don't necessarily have what I want. I really want to start over in life—but it's too late. I have to go on, not start over. Sometimes it's hard to go on. One feels like a fish wedged between the rocks—caught by circumstances or consequences and unable to swim away. "Oh, wretched man that I am", the apostle Paul once said, (Romans 7:24) , "Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin?" This is the time when one's trust in God is put to the test. This is the step in the process at which time silver and gold are refined—the fiery furnace of trial and confusion. This is when you cry out for understanding—or plead for death. Yes, an unfinished life at this point. My God, I need strength, wisdom, and most of all, I need hope—and help!  As I ponder each of these things I have told you in this Epilogue 2, I am also aware of the grace God has extended me throughout the toils of my life. Though I consider myself a failure, He has lifted me up and given me wisdom and insight that I never could have discovered on my own. He has kept me alive in famine and seen to my essential needs. He has shown me great wonders over the years, allowing me to see His hand on this marvelous earth. He has allowed me also to share most all He has shown me through the creation of Hiking the Trail of Truth, which I could never have created on my own.— He has in these things blessed me exceedingly. But, at the same time, I am indeed a lonely man—a man of sorrows. How can one accept the grace of God and not see the sinfulness of his/her life?  It is a mental mixture for sure—difficult to comprehend both at the same time. I know that through the promises of God I am redeemed, but through the human nature and acts of myself I am a broken man—torn asunder by the foolish deeds of my youth. I indeed walk with my head bowed. But, when I feel the wind, or smell the rain, or look upon the desert or mountains, I see that God has given me a refuge from the toils and sorrows of this present life. He lifts me up through these encounters of the senses, drawing me into His arms and allowing me a haven of rest—a peace that sometimes passes understanding. I have learned then through all this that one can only march on in life, always expecting in a brief span of time the unexpected. One has no choice but to trust in God to light the pathway ahead and trust Him to sustain us as we walk along its course. I understand more now Paul's desire to leave his body to be at home with the Lord, and I see also his acceptance of the fact that he must remain (Philippians 1:23, 24). I have also learned that each of us have a thorn(s) to bear which can be extremely difficult and at times impossible. It is a handicap to keep us in constant touch with our limitations. I know that we cannot, in this present life, escape our natural inclination to sin. Lust in some form is ever-present within each of us. We have to put forth great effort in learning to deal with it. Thorns then are actually gifts that allow us to learn to let Christ take over the helm of our life, for on our own we are indeed prone to wander. While lying at rest, pondering all of these things I have related to you, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was flying—high—like an eagle or a hawk. In fact, I got so high in the sky I could see where the blue turns to black. From up there, you can see all there is—and it looked like there was a reason for everything... I now move on in life with that profound understanding. It does give some sense to this life. Knowing how lost I have been through the years makes it easier at this time to help other folks. I just try the best I can to put myself in their shoes, walk with them for awhile, and then proceed to instruct them in the truth about life... I've learned that sharing the truth is part of my purpose on the earth.— I have no personal plans for the remainder of this year, nor beyond for that matter. It's just one day at a time now. Thanks for reading and hearing this second Epilogue. May the Lord be with you and enrich your life. Return to Part 1 [Home] [Hiking Maps & Trailheads] [Discovery Trail] [Bible Map] [Trail of Time] [New Birth Trail] [Mountain & Valley Trail] [Desert Trail] [Lake Trail] [High Sierra Trail] [Wilderness Trail] [A Hawk's Trail] [False Trail] [Monthly Newsletter] [Newsletter Archives] [Questions & Answers] [On-Line Church] HIKING THE TRAIL OF TRUTH Mark S. Taylor