Sheriff Robert Mitchell tightly grasped the reigns in his left hand and a rifle in the other as he leaned forward into the wind.  Hooves pounded on the desert floor throwing dirt into the air with a cloud of dust behind.  Mitchell and his thoroughbred raced through the canyon just to the south of town as Major’s sorrel coat glistened with sweat and his raw, muscular power drove them toward the three fleeing bandits.

They had jumped him in town as he walked by the saloon.  He had tried to fight them and got a few good licks in, but they had overpowered him and rode out of town with his revolvers.

Zzziiing!  A bullet flew past the sheriff’s ear with the crack of a gunshot trailing in the distance.  The pursuit had taken Mitchell to the edge of a narrowing in the canyon, and gunmen were in the rocks above.  Robert quickly slowed his steed, dismounted, and shooed him back just out of immediate danger.  He dove behind a large boulder nearby just as another bullet ricocheted off the same rock.

He crouched with his back to the stone shield as grit and sand broken from the canyon walls by flying lead pelted the ground.  After a few minutes, the sounds of gunfire quieted.  Suddenly, the silence broke with a distant holler.

“Give up, Sheriff!  We gotcha surrounded!  Ain’t no way outta here for ya!”

Mitchell knew the sound of that voice.  Tuck McCreary was wanted in four states for several robberies and two murders.  The sheriff had his suspicions Tuck was in these parts and planning something big.

“McCreary!  I know you killed a man in cold blood!  I’m taking you in, today; and you’ll hang for what you did!”

Before he finished the last word, Mitchell grasped his rifle with both hands, swiftly spun around, and raised up to take aim over the boulder.  From the sound of McCreary’s voice, Robert had already determined the murderer’s location.  The sights fell directly on McCreary.  The sheriff squeezed the trigger.

Bang!  Mitchell was knocked to the ground landing squarely on his back as his rifle flew to the side about three feet away.  Dazed and with a sharp ringing in his ear, he gasped to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him.  Another one of the gunmen had shot the sheriff’s rifle from his hands causing him to miss McCreary altogether.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to kill me, Sheriff!”  McCreary let out a yelp of defiant satisfaction.

Once he had regained his composure, Mitchell carefully and quickly retrieved his weapon and crouched behind the boulder.  The hammer was jammed and the receiver cracked.  His rifle was useless.  His quick-draw double holsters were empty.  He had spotted two men, besides McCreary when he tried to shoot him.  That meant the whole gang who were all now in the rocks above made six against one.  He’d been in tough straights before, but none any worse.

Not about to reveal his disadvantage, the sheriff shouted, “Any of you boys decide to turn on your boss, and I might be able to save you from the gallows!  But if you don’t, I’ve got a cell big enough for the lot a ya; and the judge has plenty a rope!”

McCreary’s cohorts laughed and sneered as he retorted, “You’re outnumbered, Sheriff!  You ain’t makin’ it outta here alive!  Just go on and make peace with God ‘cause I got a bullet here with your name on it!”

Robert wasn’t the most religious man.  He didn’t always attend Sunday morning service.  But he respected the preacher.  He believed in God, and he believed in doing right.  He even read the Bible now and then.  And it wasn’t uncommon for him to talk to God when no one else was around.

As he hid there pondering his predicament, Mitchell realized there was no way out of this situation alive without a miracle.  He recalled one of the few Bible passages he had memorized; it was his favorite.  He whispered it to himself, “’Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers.  For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God.’  Romans thirteen and one.”

Mitchell bowed his head.  “Dear, God.  You made me sheriff.  These men can’t do anything, unless You let ‘em.  If it’s my time, it’s my time.  But if it ain’t, help me arrest these outlaws.”

“Who you talking to, Sheriff?!” McCreary shouted.  “You ain’t outta ammo, are ya?  I think we gotcha in a tight spot!  Ha!”

Mitchell knew it wouldn’t be long before they started moving around to set their sights on him from behind.

A high-pitched scream pierced the short-lived silence.  “I’ve been bit!  I’ve been bit!!!”

Mitchell peeked over the boulder to see one of McCreary’s henchmen dancing near the edge of the canyon wildly shaking one leg.

“I’ve been bit by a rattler!”  As the poetic victim panicked, his foot slipped on loose gravel causing him to fall headlong over the precipice.  A scream much louder and more strident than the first filled the canyon for about two seconds and ended abruptly with a thud.

Mitchell could see the man lying contorted and motionless on the ground about thirty feet away.  He saw it, but he couldn’t believe it.  As he pondered in amazement what had just happened, he saw a movement in the corner of his eye toward the other side of the canyon.  He quickly turned his head and looked up to see another gunman looking at him down the length of his barrel.  Before Robert had a chance to move, the gunman pulled the trigger.  With an explosion and puff of smoke, the shooter fell back.

Robert waited and listened.

“Jones!”  McCreary motioned to another of his men on the far side of the canyon, presumably to check on the gunman whose rifle had just exploded in his face.  Jones ran with his head low toward his incapacitated comrade when he tripped.  His head hit a rock with a thump loud enough for Mitchell hear it.

Within three minutes from the time Mitchell prayed for help, three of his adversaries had been disabled.  He was dumbfounded and emboldened as he realized God was truly fighting for him.  With a confidence that surprised himself, the Sheriff decided to physically confront McCreary and demand his surrender.

Mitchell whistled.  Major galloped toward the boulder.  Mitchell stood, grabbed the pommel, and mounted his steed with a single leap.

With a “Giddy up!” from his rider, Major raced toward a steep path to the canyon top a few hundred feet away.

McCreary and his remaining gang were so stupefied by the sudden disabling of three of their own that they failed to even take a shot as Mitchell approached.  Robert brought Major to a halt just a few feet from McCreary.  He remained in the saddle as McCreary aimed his rifle at him.

“You’re under arrest.  Throw down your weapon, and tell your men to do the same.”  Mitchell hopped down from the saddle, stepped toward McCreary, and held out his hand.

Without a word, McCreary handed the sheriff his weapon as he motioned to his men to surrender.

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Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:1-2

Life is fair.  Most say life is not fair.  “Bad” things happen to “good” people.  Some people are born into wealth while others are born into poverty.  Some enjoy good health with ease, but others struggle with disease all of their lives.  We are not all given the same advantages.  But these arguments merely emphasize inequalities while failing to disprove the equitableness of life.

Inequalities in life abound; in fact, this earthly existence would be quite mundane without them.  Not only would the dullness of ubiquitous uniformity depress us, but most of us would still conclude that life is unfair.  Our assessment would be founded on the same measure as it is in reality:  the comparison of ourselves against ourselves.  Paul told the Corinthians those who do such are unwise (2 Cor. 10:12).  They look inwardly to set a standard for justice and make the devil’s job easy by blinding their own selves to truth (2 Cor. 4:4).  Thank God for our differences!

Life is fair because the Source of all life is “free from bias, dishonesty, or injustice” and He is “in conformity with rules or standards.”^[1]  “God is no respecter of persons” (Acts 10:34); He does not show partiality.  He loves us all, but He does not give us all the same gifts.  He deals with us as individuals.  We may not establish true standards by our own selves, but God has established the only true standards by His own power and authority.  And God keeps His standards.

Life is fair, but life is not always easy.  Your life—a testimony of God’s equity—is undoubtedly filled with ups and downs.  During trouble, it can be difficult to recognize God’s fairness; but the wise soul who chooses to place their trust in the Faithful One will find peace in knowing “that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

Rather than setting our own standards or comparing ourselves with others around us, let us keep biblical standards and follow the examples of the heroes who have gone before us blazing the trail of faithfulness.  Avoid those unnecessary things in life that would weigh you down slowing your progress.  Forsake those sins that would injure or disable you.  Run this race toward Jesus.

Your story began with Jesus even before you knew Him.  He is the Author of it.  Your story will end with Jesus.  He is the Finisher of it.

As the Author, Jesus knows how to tell a story exceeding the excellence ascribed by all literary awards and accolades combined.  He is the Doctor of Drama and the Sage of Suspense.  He is the Master at building tension, excitement, and thrill.  He can place you in a disadvantage with the odds favoring your adversary to teach you unwavering trust in Him.  Just as easily, He can draft your deliverance with a rewrite of divine reward for your faithfulness.  It could be that the suffering He scribed in your saga was a setup for the promotion He’s about to pen.

Right now, He is writing your story.  He already has planned your final chapter.  He said, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you…thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jer. 29:11).  He knows your plot.  He’s in control of your storyline.  And He really enjoys writing unexpected and miraculous deliverance into your life.  You see, the Author doesn’t need anything extra or any assistance to change the direction of your story.  Your antagonist is no obstacle to the Author.  Your situation will not stop Him.  All the Author needs is His Words, and He can write in your miracle anywhere He pleases.

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I started working on this article on March 2, 2015, quite a while before the genesis of Treach the Word™.  The inspiration for this writing came from a message my father preached many years ago.

[1] “fair”. Dictionary.com Unabridged. Random House, Inc. 5 May. 2017. <Dictionary.com http://www.dictionary.com/browse/fair>.