Month: September 2016

The Daily Paine

by Ira Paine, Posted on

I really don’t know why, but “Rock of Ages” is my second favorite song.  Perhaps it is the haunting melody, or maybe it is the message that there is no hope with Jesus Christ and the grace that He bestows.  The Rock is a place of safety.  The Rock brings shades in during the heat of the day.  The Rock is a fortress, a place in which we can hide from the enemy of our souls.  Plus look at the phrase, “be of sin the double cure.”  It is not only for salvation, but also for sanctification.

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.”
–Augustus M. Toplady

It is not of works, lest any man should boast, but it is through His grace.  We can work our fingers to the bone to try and earn salvation–it won’t happen.  We can do great works of kindness and benevolence–still no salvation.  Sacrifices, rituals, jumping at the altars, and tears–all these do not work.

“Not the labors of my hands
can fulfill thy law’s commands;
could my zeal no respite know,
could my tears forever flow,
all for sin could not atone;
thou must save, and thou alone.”

We are helpless; we are hopeless without Christ.  Perhaps this is why man fights against God so much.  Man likes to think he can do great wonders, and he can, but he cannot save himself.  If he tries there is only frustration and despair.  It must be Christ and Christ alone.  When all efforts have gone and there is nothing left to do–then cling to the cross.

“Nothing in my hand I bring,
simply to the cross I cling;
naked, come to thee for dress;
helpless, look to thee for grace;
foul, I to the fountain fly;
wash me, Savior, or I die.”

That last wilderness awaits all of us.  Death is a mystery and defies imagination.  We try to conjure up images; there are records of “death and near death” experiences, but it is that last wilderness in which everyone must trod.  But with Jesus Christ we can enter that time and be ready to soar.  In that day we shall truly see Him as He is, in all of His splendor, majesty, and glory.

“While I draw this fleeting breath,
when mine eyes shall close in death,
when I soar to worlds unknown,
see thee on thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee.”

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on

I had just poured a cup of coffee when Molly came out of the kitchen with Greta and Hannah.  This didn’t look good.  As they approached where I was sitting I got up and asked, “Coffee?”
Molly said she would take a cup, but the others declined.  They all sat.  I looked at them, drank half my cup, then refilled it and joined them.
“I take it there’s something on your minds.”
“Miles,” started Hannah, “You’ve been a good friend in all of our sorrows and troubles.  But,” she looked at Greta, “We just can’t work here any longer.”
Putting her hand on my arm, Molly looked at me and then back at the ladies.  Greta was sober, and kept her head bowed.  “Continue,” I said.
“We’ve told Molly we’re quitting.  I’ll work until you can find someone, but Greta will be leaving today.  We figure we can build up the egg business.  But it just seems like something is always happening because of you, and often we get caught up in the middle of it.  The thought of those snakes being loosed in our laps; well, that did it.  Miles, I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize to me.  I understand that you are victims of my circumstances.  The person you are leavin’ in the lurch is Molly.  She has nothin’ to do with what has happened.”
“If she hadn’t married you; if you weren’t around!” Greta snapped.
Now that brought an ire up within me, but it also brought a little laugh from me.  “Don’t blame her for givin’ you a job.  Don’t blame her for carin’ for you when you were hurt.  And certainly don’t blame her for comfortin’ you in your sorrow.  Now ladies, you’ve said your piece.  I understand, and am not upset, until you start to throwin’ blame around.”  I finished my coffee.  “Hope you’ll give her a good price on eggs.”  With that I figured it was time for me to depart.
I went on down to the Wells Fargo office to check in and see what was happening.  Nothing else had happened in Silverton, but there was a load of ore ready for transport in Telluride.  I was to take a couple of men with me up there and help escort it down here to Durango.  Then escort it by train to Denver.  This would be the last major load for the summer, so it would be substantial.
On my way back I stopped at the mercantile and left word that Molly was looking for a dependable person to help out at the eatery.  I would be leaving the day after tomorrow and wished she could get some help before I left, but at the same time wanted someone that would work.  Sure didn’t want another Tandy or his type around.
Hannah was waiting on a table when I arrived and Molly was in the kitchen.  I went on back and started to sneak up behind her and give her a bearhug when I saw she was making a pie.  Not wanting to do something to startle her I sort of grunted to make my presence known.
“I heard you back there,” she said.  “And no, these are not for you.  The apple pie is for Greta, since she’s leaving.  But if you go out and chop some wood I’m also making an apricot pie and a butterscotch one and you might just get a piece of one of them.”
“Yes’m,” and went out the back door.  What is chopping some wood for a piece of pie?
Checking the ax, I put a quick edge to it, and began to work.  There was plenty of wood, but it needed to be cut into smaller pieces of kindling for the stove.  I went to chopping the large pieces into small ones, and then took the hatchet to finish up the job.  it must have been an hour later when Molly called for me to come in.
She was smiling, “Go wash up,” she ordered.  I wasn’t going to argue with a smile so I cleaned up as well as possible and went to the dining room.  At my table was a piece of pie.  Now, that was a woman!
There were more people eating now and Hannah was busy running from table to table and Molly was back in the kitchen doing the cooking.  Pouring a cup of coffee I sat down, and began to enjoy.  It was apricot.  Maybe I’d eat the butterscotch for supper.  All of the customers had their food so she came over and sat with me for a minute and took the fork from my hand, and dug into my pie for a bite.  All things considering I let her.
“Want some coffee, too?” I asked jokingly.  She jabbed me with the fork.
“I’m headin’ for Telluride day after tomorrow.  Be gone ’bout a week.”
“It will be alright.  I’m going to cut the menu back to stew for dinner and supper.  Let me get you a bowl,” and she got up for the kitchen.