Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on December 17, 2021

That’s most what life is: reacting to what happens to us. We just like to delude ourselves that we are in charge. But we can choose how we react.”

–Ron Schwab (Grit)

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.”

–Luke 1:46-47 (NKJV)
——————————-
Paul speaks of the “fullness of times.” Christmas is one of those “times” that is easily recognized. In the midst of all that was going on in the heavenlies and the spiritual realm God had to bring in the human element for the Christ was to be born of woman. When I wrote of Joseph last week, I mentioned that I had often pondered the Incarnation. It is grand, it is mysterious, it is simple yet complex. I don’t understand it but I live in wonder of it. The Son of God, born as a baby, destined to die on the cross for the sins of mankind.
Think for a few minutes of Mary. She was between the ages of 13-16 years old, and some say she might even have been twelve. She was betrothed to Joseph when one day the angel Gabriel appeared to her. That in itself must have startled her, but what he told her must have been almost overwhelming. He said she had “found favor with God.” Imagine a 14-year-old hearing that from an angel in her presence, but then he said that she would have a son. Not just any son but the Son of God for He would be conceived of the Holy Spirit and would be called the “Son of the Highest.” She shook her head–impossible; but then Gabriel told her “For with God nothing will be impossible” (Luke 1:37, NKJV).
Upon hearing those words, Mary uttered those now familiar words. The words of an obedient servant of the Most High, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word.” The wonder of a young girl willing to be the mother of the Son of God.
I have wondered about what happened after she was pregnant, and I imagine after she spoke to Joseph, she went to visit her aunt. Why is there no mention of her telling her mother? Did her parents spurn her since she was pregnant? Did they think she committed an immoral act and not believe what Mary told them of the conception and the words of the angel? Was she an orphan, therefore she went to visit an older woman? Hmmm.
I will not go into the exchange when Elizabeth greeted Mary, but she asked Elizabeth the question, “Why me?” They must have had interesting conversations for Mary stayed with Elizabeth and her mute husband for three months, then went back to Nazareth and the gossip of the town. Then on top of the pregnancy she had to travel with Joseph seventy miles to Bethlehem.
When my oldest was born, she was stubborn. She didn’t come on her due date, or the day after. Finally, a week later I took Annie on a trip up the Rampart Range Road. I figured the washboards on the rugged dirt road might shake her loose. Whether it worked or not a few days later she was born. Mary, nine months pregnant, rode on the back of a donkey over the rugged roads of Judea. In her mind, the timing might not have been the best, but remember “in the fullness of times.” It wasn’t the best of circumstances, but Mary bore the journey. Then, the problems were not over, there was no place for them to stay. Joseph found refuge for them in a stable where Mary gave birth.
Take time to read the thoughts of Mary for they show her character. Read her famous words in Luke 1:46-55, ponder them, contemplate them. Then consider all that was involved in the conception, the journey, the birth of Jesus. Mary certainly did; all the things that happened she “kept all these things and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, NKJV).
Amazing isn’t it? Wondrous and mysterious, yet we should take heart in this story for God knows the future. He knows each of us and He has special things planned for our lives. We need to be willing as was Mary and say, “Let it be to me according to your word.”

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on December 16, 2021

This was raw, open country, rugged country, and it bred a different kind of man…. Just so it bred the kind of man with guts and toughness no eastern man could use.”

–Louis L’Amour (The Daybreakers)

“For we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms.”

–Ephesians 6:12 (NLT)
———————————–
How to Live in a Pagan, Apostate, and Foolish World

Key Verse: “We know that we are of God, and that the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” –1 John 5:19 (NASB)

Right off I want us to look at several verses from 1 John 5. They come right to the point of our life.

1 — Whoever believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God, and whoever loves the Father loves the child born of Him.
2 — By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and observe His commandments.
3 — For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments; and His commandments are not burdensome.
4 — For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world–our faith. (NASB)

John states, what he has already written about in the Gospel of John, that there is a new birth. He doesn’t try to prove it, but simply assumes the doctrine of the new birth that results in salvation. Far too many people have the notion that being a Christian is simply living a good life. No, it means that a person is now “born of God”–they are a new creation. That individual is different from those who are not Christian; they see the world differently.
Paul writes the same thing in 1 Corinthians 2:14, “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him.” Why do we then wonder that we have so little in common with those around us? They walk to the sound of the world, not the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Our whole faith must be focused on the Lord Jesus Christ; it is what we believe about Him that makes us Christian.

“If I believe, I commit my whole life to Him. If I believe, I know that I am delivered because Christ has done that for me. I see that apart from Him I am lost and undone and doomed. This is a profound action; it is a commitment; it is a banking of one’s everything upon that fact.”
–D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

Here are some questions that you need to ask yourself. The answer to these might give an indication of whether or not you have commited your whole life to Him.

1) Is my Christian living a task?
2) Is it something that I resent and object to?
3) Do I spend my time trying to get out of it?
4) Am I trying to compromise with the life of the world?
5) Am I just living on the edge of the Christian life, or do I want to get right into the center and live the life of God and be perfect even as my Father in heaven is perfect?

Where do you stand in your relationship to God? Do not be among those who think that it is just another term, another religion. Jesus is the only way, there is no other way to the Father except through the blood of Jesus Christ. It should be part of our daily prayer that we hunger and thirst after righteousness instead of seeking the things of the world.

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on December 15, 2021

He decided that he would never ignore Christmas again, and not just the date on the calendar.”
–C.J. Petit (The Second Star)

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”

–Luke 2:7 (KJV)
————————————–
Christmas! a great time of the year. But why? Where is the focus? Is it on business as usual, or on the Christ-child? Is it on the hustle and bustle of the time, or is it on the birth of Jesus? Christmas is a wonderful time to sit down and look at priorities. It is a time to regather your focus on the important things of life, and nothing is more important than your relationship with Jesus Christ–the reason for the season.
I cannot remember the first time I heard the term “Advent.” It was not a term used in our little Assembly of God church; it seemed like it fit better into the more mainline, liturgical churches. Perhaps there was fear about using such a term, but we did celebrate “Advent.” There was always the Christmas story and the play with children acting out the nativity scenario.
Since that time I have no problem using the term, since I have come to know what it actually means. In fact, I enjoy liturgy and tradition and they can be a wonderful addition to teaching the truths of the Incarnation. However, there is also the danger that the liturgy and tradition become the focus of worship rather than the Jesus and the purpose of His birth. The same is true in a lesser sense with family. Most families have a certain “liturgy” they follow on Christmas and traditions. They can bring the family closer together and help them bond as a unit, but if not careful the traditions get in the way of the importance of the family.
It is up to each of us to keep proper focus. The liturgy can enhance the meaning of the season or we can become bored with the same old thing again. It should never get that way! Boredom has no place in Christmas! It is a time of excitement, of happiness and joy. A time of singing, laughter, and smiles. It should never become, “bah, humbug.” If we get to that point we need to get back to the manger and get a fresh renewal of the meaning of Christmas.
The same is true of families. Christmas is not just for children; it is for all of humankind. If not careful the wonderful family traditions can become boring as well. Here we go again, has no place in Christmas. I always look forward to the grand, whole picture of Christmas, then enjoy the wonderful details.
So what then is “Advent”? I like what James S. Stewart says regarding “Advent.” “It means the glory of the coming of the Lord. It means the breaking in of the divine into human history, of the supernatural into the natural. It means a sense of something great impending from the side of of heaven.” Seldom is heard in the churches the majestic carols that speak forth the truth of Advent. The meaning of “O Come, O Come, Immanuel!” is lost, unless, unless we strive to look at the wonder of the birth of Jesus and His purpose in coming as a baby to this earth. Stewart continues, “Be still, my soul; for God will surely come. That is Advent.”

“Jesus, thou art all compassion,
Pure, unbounded love Thou art;
Visit us with thy salvation;
Enter ev’ry trembling heart.”
–Charles Wesley

The purpose of Advent, that one time in history, that one moment in the universe when everything was right for the birth of Jesus then is to bring us to the Father through Him. Look at the purpose of the season: Hope, Peace, Love, Joy. Let this wonderful time of the year cause you to dwell upon the meaning, and upon the Jesus Christ the Son of God, the Savior of the world.

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on December 14, 2021

I woke the next morning to a skiff of snow covering my bedroll and frost all around. It made me glad I wore my coat to bed last night so I was warm, but now I needed to get up and face the cold and the day. I pulled my boots from my bedroll, something I learned many years ago as there’s few things worse than pulling on cold boots early in the morning. It was the beginning of graylight as I reached to touch the handle of the coffeepot to find the leftover coffee from last frozen. It must be colder than I thought.

Picking up some twigs and small branches I had laid by the fire I shook the snow off then got down to business of starting a fire. I blew on my fingers to warm them and was ready to put a match to the tinder when a whiff of smoke touched my nostrils. There was someone else in these ruins. Putting the match back in my pocket I went to rouse Charlie from his slumber. Stooping down I touched his shoulder.

“Charlie, Charlie, wake up,” he started to say something for my cruelty in waking him to the cold. “Shhh, I smell woodsmoke.”

His eyes widened then he threw on his hat, pulled on his boots then fastened his gunbelt. I pointed in the direction of the smoke. I couldn’t tell exactly where it came from, just the general direction. We moved slowly trying to detect where the smoke was coming from. Charlie stopped suddenly, then nodded his head to indicate that the camp was on the other side of a broken down adobe wall. He was right. I could see light in the dawn.

It could be the outlaws, or it could be a Navajo boy with a group of sheep. We crept to the edge of the wall. I pointed toward one way. Charlie nodded then headed off in that direction. I moved down the wall in the other direction and we would come to the camp and have them in a crossfire if they were indeed the outlaws. Charlie gave me a few minutes. I had the longer route and there were several obstacles of wood, cactus, and broken adobe to heed my progress.

Moving around the far end of the wall, I could make out two men kneeling by a fire, two more in a bedroll. I knew there were five in the holdup, one was missing. We held our positions, the cold starting to work on our bones. I was getting ready to make a move when a sound came to my left of a man walking–the fifth man. When he approached the fire I could see it was the bum who accosted Molly in the diner.

I moved out from behind the wall. Charlie moved at the same time. “Easy boys,” he said calmly. “Put up your hands nice and easy.”

The men looked in his direction. Then from the corner of my eye I saw movement from one of the men in the bedroll. He pulled a gun, firing it at Charlie. Now, I surely hate to shoot a man in his bed, but I cut loose at him, both of my bullets hitting him, but he had started bedlam. Charlie fired into the three men, all three of them were shooting, and they now knew I was behind them.

The man who had just entered camp ran and another joined them. One was wounded in the leg for he limped. The man I recognized grabbed up a bag from the bank and was mounting his horse bareback. Charlie fired, hitting him in the hand causing him to drop the satchel. The men who limped was able to mount and the two of them rode off escaping our fire. Fortune had it for them; it seemed that Charlie and I had picked out the same man to throw lead at. He was riddled with bullets.

Checking the man in his bedroll I found him dead as well. Charlie and I looked at each other then went to the other man in his bedroll. His eyes were closed and he was breathing shallow, perhaps trying to make us think he was already dead. “Go ahead, Sheriff, shoot him to make sure,” I said urging Charlie.

He fired, the bullet hitting near the man’s head. He yelped, opened his eyes to holler, “Don’t shoot!” Then came another groan from him. He was the man who somehow was wounded in the explosion. We pulled him out of his bedroll. He had a gash under his ear and had crusted over with dried blood, but when he examined further we saw a piece of metal protruding from his leg.

Charlie moved to build up the fire to help us see. It was full graylight, but we needed the extra light. Sticking out of his leg was a piece of metal, about five inches in width, but narrow. It had pierced his leg.

“How in the world did you ride with that in your leg?” questioned Charlie as he knelt down by the man.

The man didn’t say anything, just looked at Charlie.

I pulled my knife to split his trousers. It was an ugly mess. A piece of the safe had torn into his leg. His pants were soaked in blood. I reached down, and before I could touch the metal, he hollered, “Don’t touch it!”

“Mister, that needs to come out,” I stated. “Riding a horse would move that around and could cut an artery. Might have already.” His eyes were wide. I realized that as long as he didn’t move he could stand the pain.

I looked at Charlie shaking my head. Neither of us knew how deep the metal was in his leg. If Doc Jones was here he might be able to give the man something and cut it out then sew him up quick. I pulled on my moustache then rubbed down my chin as I stared at Charlie. I had one chance. In a flash I moved my hand to grasp the metal piece and Charlie threw himself over the man’s body. I jerked hard, causing a tremendous howl to come from the man, but the piece of metal was in my hand. It was a piece about 5 by 6.

The man had yelled, but now was breathing heavily, but with the metal removed from his leg he was already feeling some relief. Charlie went to the fire, the water for the coffee was boiling. He pulled off his bandanna, placing about two-thirds of it in the water then brought it to me. It was hot, but I grabbed where it was dry and began to wash off the wound. The man yelped again, but it soon went to moaning. I cleaned it as good as I could, then took my own bandana and wrapped it around the wound, tying it off.

“What about the other two?” asked Charlie.

I was taking the man’s bandana off to bind the wound tighter. “Figured you could take these three back to Durango. I’ll follow after those two. Riding bareback they won’t get far.”

Charlie started to protest. “Take them home, see Marta.”

He gave a grim smile, then nodded his head.

“Better get that arm cleaned up before you see her,” I told him. He had not realized that a bullet had grazed his left arm. In all of the shooting, we were fortunate that that was the only wound. Within the hour Charlie was headed with two dead men and one severely wounded toward home and I was on the trail of the other two fugitives.

“Sit down Marta, we need to talk!” ordered Molly. The evening rush was over and Emelda had left for the day. It was only Molly and Marta in the empty diner.

Marta made some smart remark in Spanish, she snapped, “I have nothing I wish to talk about!”

Molly seized her arm forcing her to plunk down in a chair. “Maybe you don’t, but I do!”