Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on July 13, 2017

Wantin’ takes too much time. I’d rather be working.”
–Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove)

“We must quickly carry out the tasks assigned us by the one who sent us. The night is coming, and then no one can work.”
–John 9:4 (NLT)
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This world, this country, is not only chaotic, but it’s crazy! Let’s see: cities are suing states, states are suing the federal government and in particular the President, people on Twitter are now suing the President, companies are being sued by almost everyone imaginable. We are in such an enlightened society that we do not know what to do. There is agitation and consternation on every hand. It makes me recall the words of Paul,

“For though they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God or show gratitude. Instead, their thinking became nonsense and their senseless minds were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools.”
–Romans 1:21-22 (HCSB)

Look at that second sentence and see if that doesn’t fit our country’s situation–“their thinking became nonsense.” Why I even hear one of our elected officials, a Congresswoman said that North and South Korea need to come together. After all, they’re both Japanese. Listen, we pay those folks–crazy!
In the Book of Proverbs we read, “It is not fitting for a fool to live in luxury…” (19:10) Right now this sinful world is upside down. We have elected fools to exalted positions in our government; and they gloat in it and tell us how to live. Who are the real fools?
The problem is that man wants or thinks he is autonomous. That is hardly the truth, yet he likes to think that he is master of his fate. Even Christians get caught up in this. Listen, you cannot glorify God and yourself at the same time. “It is the desire to be God rather than to worship God that creates an almost unbearable tension in the Christian.” (Stephen Brown)
Man is not God and never will be God; man is not autonomous and never will be autonomous. Therefore, the cry goes out, “There is no God.” The person who declares that goes back to what I have written earlier, “He is a fool.” And “claiming to be wise, they became fools.”
Christians bicker over personalities; they bicker over political parties when they should be in the Bible and seeing what the Bible says about the issues. Oh, and not their opinion of what the Scripture says, but what does it actually say.
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Take a gander at this little poem, especially if you’re fond of Sinatra’s “I Did It My Way.”

“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
. . .
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charted with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.”

What malarkey! The only way this can be true is that there can be no God. If there is no God, life is meaningless and hollow. By the way, this was written by William Henley and his life ended in suicide. (Brown)
Yes, in a sense, he did it his way. You came into this world with nothing and you’ll find that when it comes the time to bid goodbye, that you’ll leave it the same way–even if you did it your way. (A good study in this is found in the Book of Ecclesiastes.)

Echoes from the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on July 12, 2017

He’s past friendship. Your debt is to the living.”
–Jack Shaefer (Shane)

“But Jesus told him, ‘Let the spiritually dead bury their own dead! Your duty is to go and preach about the Kingdom of God.'”
–Luke 9:60 (NLT)
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This old hymn has been running through my mind for about a week now. It is really what all Christians should be doing and singing, especially in this days. With all the fear, toil, terror, and chaos do we really believe that we are on our way to Heaven?

          “I am on my way to Heaven where the saints are robed in white
           Shouting glory, shouting glory!
           To that blessed land immortal where can never come the night,
           Shouting glory all the way!”
                    –Herbert J. Lacey

I don’t know if everyone is ready to go to Heaven; they are having too much fun down here, or they don’t even think much of their heavenly eternal abode. We don’t have many descriptions of that city but we know there are mansions and the streets are of purest gold. (I had a pastor preach that they will be apartments. That may be true, but in doing a little research on the word they will be “mansion-type apartments.”)

          “I am on my way to Heaven where the streets are paved with gold,
           Shouting glory, shouting glory!
           To the place of many mansions and of glories yet untold,
           Shouting glory all the way!”

What is it the delights you down here on earth? What is it that keeps you from thinking of Heaven? I’m not one of those who believe that we will be doing all the things in heaven that we did down here. There will not be an ice cream buffet, for example. I do believe that the Lord has things for us that we cannot even imagine.

          “I am on my way to Heaven, blessed land of pure delight,
           Shouting glory, shouting glory!
           Where the blest of every nation are forever clothed in white,
           Shouting glory all the way!”

There greatest thing about Heaven is that we will see Him face-to-face. We will see the One who bled and died so that we have the opportunity to be in Heaven. Then, and only then, will we truly sing redemption’s story for we will finally have seen it from beginning to end.

          “I am on my way to Heaven where I’ll see my Savior’s face
           Shouting glory, shouting glory!
           There I’ll sing redemption’s story, blessed song of saving grace,
           Shouting glory all the way!

                    O glory, hallelujah!
                    I am on my way to Heaven,
                    Shouting glory, shouting glory!
                    O glory, hallelujah!
                    I am on my way to Heaven,
                    Shouting glory, all the way!”

Be ready to recognize that we are heavenward bound. This is not to be a life of toil and drudgery, but a life where we see the work of the Lord within each of us. Don’t get so tied-down to this old earth that you are no longer moving toward Heaven.

P.S. This one almost makes me want to “clog in the kitchen”.

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on July 11, 2017

It scared us when Marta collapsed. Charlie picked her up and took her to our pallet behind the kitchen. Doc shooed us out, except Molly, and checked her over. We could hear him muttering and once in a while pick up a word or two. “No fever…throat feels normal…stay with her…cool compress…”
He came out, walked past us and went over to the table. Before sitting down he poured a cup of coffee. Charlie and I looked at him, then at each other. At the same time we walked over to the table.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?” came his reply as he took a sip of coffee.
“Marta! Is she okay?” asked Charlie.
Doc took another sip, he could be downright ornery at times. He smiled and said, “It’s not the diphtheria. I think she just plain wore herself out. She’s been through a lot over the past week or so. Beaten by those ruffians, her mother hurt and then dying, and little Lucas and Molly almost dying. I figure she is just plumb tuckered out. A good day of rest or two and she should be alright.”
By the middle of the week Marta was up and around. Glass had been put back in the now M & M Diner, and with Doc declaring the quarantine over there were a few customers. There were quite a few folk that were tired and so came to the diner for a meal as they didn’t want to cook at home. Charlie and I went hunting a couple of times and filled the icehouse up with elk and venison. Charlie even bagged a black bear.
Marta was back to her old self, smiling and working with Molly. Things were so busy with me out hunting and the customers that I hadn’t even had a chance to talk with her about Eliana. Nor had I had the chance to ask Molly about a piece of pie. She was baking them, but always they went out to the customers.
Last Sunday after Sunday sermon, Charlie told me to come with him. Durango was fortunate to find him for a marshal. Some of the ones in the past were a little on the shady side, especially when Judge Wray was in office. He said he had something he wanted to show me.
As we were walking up the street from the diner he said, “Miles, that kitchen is not the place for you to make a home. It’s small and has no privacy whatsoever!”
“Charlie, if you remember right, I had a cabin once. It was destroyed by my enemies.”
“I recollect. But that’s just it. Once you let the ashes settle you clear them out and start building again. Didn’t you hear the parson this morning? You need something for you and Molly.”
“Well, maybe with the reward from Bellows I can start looking for something,” I declared.
“Miles, how long have you been away?”
“On to a month.”
“And when was the last time you ventured up the hill to where your cabin was?”
“Oh, let’s see, maybe last fall. Why?”
We walked up the hill and low and behold, there was a cabin standing on the property where the old one was built. Not exactly the same place but only a few yards from it. I looked at Charlie.
“Doc, and few of the folk in town,” he stammered a bit, “And myself pooled our resources and work and built this for you and Molly.” He paused again. “‘Course it isn’t completely free. The taxes on the land have to be paid, but with the reward I figured that would not be a problem.”
“Charlie, we can’t…”
“Okay, be stubborn, we’ll give it to Molly then!”
I turned toward him and then put out my hand. We started up toward the cabin when Henry came running up. He was sort of the town errand boy and I thought at first something was wrong with Hawk.
“Mr. Forrest, I’ve been lookin’ all over for yuh,” he said out of breath. “Yur to come immediately to the Wells Fargo office. There’s a man there to see you. I think Covney was his name.”

Echoes from the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on July 10, 2017

He closed his eyes and tried to shut out his thoughts. It would be better just to listen to the rain falling, to smell the pines and the wood smoke. They couldn’t take that from him–the memory of countless lonely fires built in countless lonely places, a memory that leaves a man with a taste for wild country.”
–Louis L’Amour

“I will lead blind Israel down a new path, guiding them along an unfamiliar way. I will brighten the darkness before them and smooth out the road ahead of them. Yes, I will indeed do these things; I will not forsake them.”
–Isaiah 42:16 (NLT)
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Can you remember your first campfire?
I can’t exactly remember mine. When I was a kid, Grandpa took me fishing. My Aunt Bern went with us as Grandpa wasn’t comfortable with me by himself, me being a youngster and all. If we went to the mountains we wouldn’t have a campfire, but Bern would fire up Grandpa’s Coleman stove. We ate breakfast and lunch cooked over that old Coleman. It wasn’t a campfire, but it sure was fun back then and a great memory.
My first campfire was probably either one time I went camping to Brainerd Lake. I can’t remember too much about it; add to it several with my Sunday School class and also the campfires made for special youth services. They always seemed to be special times.
After I had a car and I could get out on my own I would spend some time doing just that–being alone. I might add some fishing to it from time to time. I used to practice starting a fire with only one match, or sometimes even using flint and steel, or for the modern person a magnesium match. In the morning it was blowing on a coal left somewhere under the ashes. Then came my famous hat. I don’t know how many fires I have fanned into flame with my hat. Sure much easier than getting on your knees and putting your face in the ashes to blow on an ember.
After the campfire dies down there is only a glow of the coals and a person enters the tent or their bedroll for the night. It brightens and the wind blows and then goes back to a dull glow. It is still hot and glowing as you fall asleep but the next morning you have to get it started again. Raking through the ashes to find some coals you put on tinder and taking the old hat begin to fan those coals into flames again. In a few seconds there is a flame and now you add kindling and soon there is the fire needed for warmth and for cooking.
That is sort of like life. The Holy Spirit has given us gifts (do not confuse gifts with talents–look especially at Romans 12). We tend to let them die down as we sleep. And which of us Christians have not become woozy with sleep and need to be wakened up? Paul tells Timothy to fan them alive again. “That is why I remind you to fan into flame the gracious gift of God, [that inner fire—the special endowment] which is in you…” (2 Timothy 1:6, AMP)
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Here is a little tidbit of truth to ponder, especially when you begin to hear folks complain.

“Complaining has about as much effect as the barking of a faraway dog.”

Most people who complain just want to gripe about the situation. They are normally not in a position to do anything about what they are complaining about anyhow. What they really do is get you all riled up and destroy your attitude so that you have a bad day.