<TITLE>06. Par 19-21</TITLE>L-19 I started back towards where I thought I could find camp, riding along pretty swiftly, 'cause it was getting towards dark. And the winds come up and blowed away the fogs and by, I say nine o'clock at night, we would have what they call "Buttermilk Skies." I do. You have something like clabbers and some white clouds, like buttermilk does.
And the moon would shine and--and then go behind the cloud, and then shine again. My little horse was sweating pretty heavy, so I felt led that I should stop the little fellow and let him rest. And I stopped him, and tied him up pretty close, cinched him up--or uncinched the saddle, rather, and tied him up close, and I set down on the log.
I was setting there wondering; I said, "O God, how great Thou art," looking around. And just then, the winds a-blowing east, and I heard the most mournful noise I ever heard. I thought, "What's making that real funny noise." And I looked just ahead of me, and there was an old burn-over. I guess you all know what a burn-over is, where there's been trees, and the fire's went through and burned all the bark off of them, and they're just standing there, some of them blowed down and hard to get through.

L-20 And every time the wind would blow, then that wind blowing down through those old light bare trees, and the moon shining on them, it looked very (well, I should say, called it in a street expression), "spooky," kind of a funny feeling, give you. It looked like a graveyard, tombstones sticking up. And every time that wind would blow, that real mournful sound would set up in them trees. Oh, such a sound. And I thought, "Isn't that a spooky looking place?"
And I watched, stood and looked at it a little while, I thought, "You know this reminds me of the text I used to use over in Joel, said, 'What the palmerworm has left, the caterpillar has eaten. What the caterpillar left, has the cankerworm's eaten. What the cankerworm left, the locust has eaten.'" I thought, "Well, that sure is a picture of Joel." And I thought, "Yes, that reminds me of all that mournful noise of these great big high-standing steeples on churches, great big denominations behind them, but not a bit of life, like the old dry cowhide.

L-21 Then every time God sends down that rushing mighty wind like He did on the day of Pentecost, the only thing they can do is just groan, moan: "The days of miracles is past. Don't you go around such stuff. Oh, it won't do." See? Just moaning and groaning.
Well, I thought, "Why don't them trees...? What makes them moan is because they haven't got any life in them. That's the reason they are moaning.
Well, I thought, "If they had life in them, they could sway with this wind." Well, I said, "That's right. What the Lutheran left, has the Methodist eaten. What the Methodist left, the Presbyterians eaten. What the Presbyterians left, the Baptists eaten. What the Baptists left, the Nazarenes eaten. What the Nazarenes left, the Pentecostals eaten." I said, "It sure come down to a big old bunch of bleak churches with nothing in them." That's exactly right. That's right.


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