A cloud of red dust that could only be made by the scorching heat and ruddy Texas soil rose up over the town of Sunrise, Texas. Colton James galloped down main street on his midnight black mustang, the lynch mob only seconds behind. He quickly scanned the town, hoping for some place to take cover, rather than being forced to ride another 50 miles to Stampede. The store fronts blurred by; the blacksmith shop, Syl's Saloon, Herb's General Store, the Sheriff's office, but no place to hide. Finally, almost at the edge of the quaint town, he spotted the one place in which anyone could seek asylum; the church. Colton hastily dismounted, rushed up the stairs, and crossed the threshold into safety.
The building appeared to be empty; the only sounds were the creaking of the old wooden floors under Colton's heavy step and the faint scratching in the walls from what he assumed to be mice scurrying about. Stepping into the sanctuary, Colton was met with a flood of memories; recalling the feel of hard wooden pews while waiting for his father to finish preaching, the service dragging on for what seemed like an eternity to a boy who would much rather be out riding than sitting in church. The light refracting through the lingering dust in the air brought memories of him and his wife, Sadie, standing in front of a crowd of friends on their wedding day rushing back. The slightly musty smell of books and mahogany reminded him of their country church back home, the one he and Sadie took their boys, Judah and Micaiah, to every week.
Then came the voices from outside. They were cold, harsh voices, all calling his name, all speaking accusing words. They were all lies, and were enough to abruptly pull him back to the immediate, making him flee back into the hard shell of a man that he had worked so hard to perfect. In this reality, he was being perused as a criminal, and unless he convinced them otherwise, he would be set to hang in a matter of days, leaving his precious boys and beautiful wife behind.
The building appeared to be empty; the only sounds were the creaking of the old wooden floors under Colton's heavy step and the faint scratching in the walls from what he assumed to be mice scurrying about. Stepping into the sanctuary, Colton was met with a flood of memories; recalling the feel of hard wooden pews while waiting for his father to finish preaching, the service dragging on for what seemed like an eternity to a boy who would much rather be out riding than sitting in church. The light refracting through the lingering dust in the air brought memories of him and his wife, Sadie, standing in front of a crowd of friends on their wedding day rushing back. The slightly musty smell of books and mahogany reminded him of their country church back home, the one he and Sadie took their boys, Judah and Micaiah, to every week.
Then came the voices from outside. They were cold, harsh voices, all calling his name, all speaking accusing words. They were all lies, and were enough to abruptly pull him back to the immediate, making him flee back into the hard shell of a man that he had worked so hard to perfect. In this reality, he was being perused as a criminal, and unless he convinced them otherwise, he would be set to hang in a matter of days, leaving his precious boys and beautiful wife behind.
Sheriff Tyler calmly climbed the steps, his spurs scraping the wood along the way, but he stopped short when he got to the top and found that no one followed him. He turned back to find the rest of his posse still mounted on their horses with a look of disbelief on their faces.
"Well men, ya'll didn't chase James all across the state to just sit here! Let's go."
"Wait Sheriff, you can't just go in there. That there church don't lie on Texas soil, it sits on God's ground and you ain't got no jurisdiction there."
"What's that, Clint?"
"Well, everyone knows that a church don't sit on American land, it belongs to the LORD. You can't just go barging in. The Almighty judges in there and you can't go try and take His place," the tall, rugged rancher solemnly replied.
"I know you're a God-fearin' man, Clint, but I've never had much time for religion, and as far as I can figure, we ain't gonna get struck down for going in there. We're just keeping the law."
"Well, everyone knows that a church don't sit on American land, it belongs to the LORD. You can't just go barging in. The Almighty judges in there and you can't go try and take His place," the tall, rugged rancher solemnly replied.
"I know you're a God-fearin' man, Clint, but I've never had much time for religion, and as far as I can figure, we ain't gonna get struck down for going in there. We're just keeping the law."
"It is the law, Sheriff." Riley Parker, the youngest man in the group called out, "it don't matter what you believe, the law stands regardless, and it says that you can't touch no one in a church."
"That's right, Sheriff," echoed his father-in-law, Avery Cash.
"So ya'll are gonna let a few walls and someone's religion get in the way of justice?" Sheriff Tyler threw back, "remember what he's done. That man robbed the train, and shot the mayor. Are you just gonna leave him loose to harm your families because of some building?"
"It's more than a building!" cried Clint Davis. "No judge in the state of Texas is going to let you get away with dragging a man out of the church. Besides, it's more than the law, it's a matter of honour."
"All that aside, we still aren't even sure that he was tryin' to kill the mayor!" threw in Parker.
"How can you say that Riley? The mayor was shot, things were stolen off the train, and he was the only one there," Sheriff Tyler replied, clearly annoyed at the controversy. "Who else could have done it?"
"I'm just sayin'..." he mumbled back.
"All that aside, we still aren't even sure that he was tryin' to kill the mayor!" threw in Parker.
"How can you say that Riley? The mayor was shot, things were stolen off the train, and he was the only one there," Sheriff Tyler replied, clearly annoyed at the controversy. "Who else could have done it?"
"I'm just sayin'..." he mumbled back.
The voices that only a few moments before had tenaciously grabbed Colton's attention now faded into the background as he noticed the cross at the front of the room for the first time. He slowly made his way down the aisle to the front of the sanctuary, his well worn boots causing the old wooden floor to groan with every step.
"LORD, you know what happened at the train station back home. I never meant to hurt anyone, I was only trying to save the train from the bandits, and the mayor got caught in the cross fire," Colton prayed as he dropped to his knees in front of the time-worn cross, "I don't know what's comin' next, but I pray you'll look after my family, keep my boys safe, and comfort Sadie..."
"I've heard enough of this religious nonsense! I'm going in there. Justice must be kept." Sheriff Tyler firmly concluded.
"How do we even know that is justice, Sheriff?" asked Riley Parker, "Talk around town was that he said he wasn't robbing the train..."
"We gotta follow logic and reason, Parker, not idle gossip, or some far-fetched, religious notions," with that he turned, and crossed the doorway leaving the men in his wake struggling over what they had been hearing, all wondering how their nation that had been founded so firmly in the LORD could have so easily forgotten Him, and wondering what it would cause the future to look like.
The Sheriff entered the sanctuary only to find the man he had pursued across the state calmly kneeling at the front. He felt a twinge of remorse for having to apprehend the man in such a place, but quickly shoved the feeling aside, he couldn't let anyone see the chink in his armor caused by the church.
"Colton James, I'm takin' you to jail for robbing the train and tryin' to kill the mayor."
Two weeks later, Colton abruptly arose to the smell that had become so familiar over the last while. The stench of gunpowder drifting in from the Sheriff's office, of rusty metal, and of too many men needing showers washed over him as he came out of a much needed sleep. Filtered light washed over his eyes from the open doorway where Sheriff Tyler stood, a menacing sight to his light deprived eyes.
"Let's go, James," he huskily demanded.
Colton rolled off the sorry excuse for a bed and stepped out of the tiny cell he had called home for the past two weeks. However, he instantly regretted it when he remembered what today was; his execution. He was loaded onto a wagon already packed people awaiting the same fate, all looking as solemn as him. They arrived all to soon at the one place none of them wanted to be: the gallows. Time seemed to drag on forever, yet at the same time it slid by all too quickly as he waited for his summons. They finally came, and as the guard walked him up to the platform and slipped the noose around his neck he couldn't help but think of how this wasn't really fair. He had been given no last words with his family, in fact, he hadn't seen them since this nightmare began. But what bothered him most was the church. He should have been safe there, and yet, here he was. How could his beloved country have fallen so far as to not even respect the LORD? Didn't they know that the church didn't sit on Texas soil? However, what hurt the most in all of it was that his voice hadn't even been heard, and neither would it be, for it was then that the click of a lever was heard, and the floor gave way beneath his feet.
The Sheriff entered the sanctuary only to find the man he had pursued across the state calmly kneeling at the front. He felt a twinge of remorse for having to apprehend the man in such a place, but quickly shoved the feeling aside, he couldn't let anyone see the chink in his armor caused by the church.
"Colton James, I'm takin' you to jail for robbing the train and tryin' to kill the mayor."
Two weeks later, Colton abruptly arose to the smell that had become so familiar over the last while. The stench of gunpowder drifting in from the Sheriff's office, of rusty metal, and of too many men needing showers washed over him as he came out of a much needed sleep. Filtered light washed over his eyes from the open doorway where Sheriff Tyler stood, a menacing sight to his light deprived eyes.
"Let's go, James," he huskily demanded.
Colton rolled off the sorry excuse for a bed and stepped out of the tiny cell he had called home for the past two weeks. However, he instantly regretted it when he remembered what today was; his execution. He was loaded onto a wagon already packed people awaiting the same fate, all looking as solemn as him. They arrived all to soon at the one place none of them wanted to be: the gallows. Time seemed to drag on forever, yet at the same time it slid by all too quickly as he waited for his summons. They finally came, and as the guard walked him up to the platform and slipped the noose around his neck he couldn't help but think of how this wasn't really fair. He had been given no last words with his family, in fact, he hadn't seen them since this nightmare began. But what bothered him most was the church. He should have been safe there, and yet, here he was. How could his beloved country have fallen so far as to not even respect the LORD? Didn't they know that the church didn't sit on Texas soil? However, what hurt the most in all of it was that his voice hadn't even been heard, and neither would it be, for it was then that the click of a lever was heard, and the floor gave way beneath his feet.
soli deo gloria
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