Month: January 2024

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Is the black in your eye the same as the soot in your heart?”
                    –Max Brand  (Harrigan)

       “The spirit of a man is the lamp of the Lord, Searching all the inner depths of his heart.”

                    –Proverbs 20:27(NKJV)
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               “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” –Matthew 5:8 (NKJV)

Contemplate that verse for a few moments.  Those with a pure heart will see God.  It seems that the intent of man’s heart is on evil, how can it then be pure?  Jeremiah writes that, “The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it?” (17:9, NKJV)  So if the heart is wicked and cannot be known how can it be pure?
       There must be more to this concept of purity than meets the eye.  The Greek word used in Matthew is “katharas” and it is used twenty-seven times in the New Testament.  It means “clean, free from contaminating substance.”  Barclay puts it this way, “free of unadulterated motives.”  Henry Harbuck states that those who are “pure in heart–act out of pure and genuine motives in their heart/mind.”
       Some theologians seem to think that this purity of heart means “inner purity as opposed to merely external piety” (D.A. Carson).  This theme of purity is seen in many places in the New Testament.  Others say that it means “singleness of heart; a heart free from the tyranny of a divided self” (Carson).    Carson pulls both of these views together, “The one who is singleminded in commitment to the kingdom and its righteousness will also be inwardly pure.  Inward sham, deceit, and moral filth cannot coexist with sincere devotion to Christ.” (Expositor’s Bible Commentary)
       Is it then possible for anyone to have a “pure heart”?  Yes, in the sense that it is clean and to be clean it must be born again.  The grace that saves us is the same grace that inputs righteousness (i.e., purity, right living).  The Latin word for pure is “clean or unmixed.”  Strong renders it “clean, unstained.”  When we read the Beatitudes we see that Jesus is speaking against hypocrisy, therefore our heart must be “unmixed.”  There can be only one motive–to serve Jesus Christ.  Grant Ethridge states that pure of heart means that we are to be holy–that is, “separate, clean and unmixed–authentic and honest.”  
       When we read Job we see that he was called “blameless” by the Lord.  God did not say, perfect or without sin, but he was blameless in God’s sight.  Job had a pure heart.  His motives were clean.  He was focused on serving God with pure motives; God was his aim, focus, and goal.  What is the motive that dwells deep in our heart?   If we look at that verse from one perspective few could have a truly pure heart and that could strike fear within a person’s, shall I say it?, heart.
       I turned to Proverbs where the heart is mentioned eighty-six times (NKJV).  It seems that there are various kinds of hearts:  glad hearts, hard hearts, proud hearts, prudent hearts, foolish hearts, clean hearts, pure hearts, and others.  It is in the heart of man that reveals who he really is (Proverbs 27:19).  So take heart, my friend, we can have a pure heart, therefore we have the promise and the hope of seeing God.

               “He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted up his soul to an idol, nor sworn deceitfully.  He shall receive blessing from the LORD, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.” –Psalm 24:4-5
               “How can a young man cleanse his way?  By taking heed according to Your word.  With my whole heart I have sought You; Oh, let me not wander from Your commandments!” –Psalm 119:9-10

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Edith was quite distraught.  Molly encouraged her to sit down and that she would make her a cup of tea.  Neither of us had seen her act like this before; it was an uncommon characteristic.  She was usually calm, stayed busy, and didn’t seem to have a worry-bone in her body.
     “Something has happened Miles, I can just feel it,” she agonized.  When Molly brought her tea she just held it between her hands and Molly had to coax her to drink it.  Finally, she sipped it, then took a larger swallow.  
     “We’re ready to close up here.  Let Miles walk you home while I finish up,” said Molly trying to encourage her.  
     She took another swallow, then nodded.  I put on my heavy sheepskin coat and led her to the door.  “There’s no use goin’ out tonight.  I’ll start out first thing in the mornin’.  If Doc should come home you be sure to tell me.”
     I waited until dawn before going down to the livery to get Star.  Hawk would have been my normal first choice for a trip like this, but he seemed to suffer some when I went looking for Johnson.  He was a much better bad weather and mountain horse than Star, but it would do the thoroughbred good to get out and exercise.  It was still below freezing, but it had warmed up some and it appeared that the sun would be shining today.  Maybe by the time I was on the road it would be melting some of the snow.
     Molly was waiting for me at the diner with some sausage and eggs sandwiches.  I wasn’t surprised to see Edith standing there with her.  Tipping my hat, I nodded, “I expect to be meetin’ Doc somewhere on the road.”  Then nudged Star and we started off at a walk since the snow was still fairly deep with a crust on the top.
     It was normally about an hour’s trip to McClure’s but halfway there I had to stop to rest Star.  The snow was deep and it was hard traveling.  I had really hoped that I would come across Doc along the road.  A couple of hours later I saw McClure’s cabin.  Smoke was rising from the chimney so I knew they were home.  There were no horses in the corral, but then again, I didn’t expect to see any.  
     Reining in at the front porch, I noticed several footprints around along with the tracks of three horses.  I dismounted telling Star that I wouldn’t be long; I disliked that I had to leave him out in the cold.  There was no answer when I knocked on the door.  I knocked again, “Frank!  Frank, it’s Miles Forrest!”
     The door opened slowly and I could barely make out an image in the crack.  Then Frank McClure opened it wide, “Come on in Marshal.  Go warm yourself by the fire.”
     I glanced at him and he looked a mess.  His face was bruised, he had a cut lip and a black eye that was swollen and partially shut.  Around his head was a bloody bandage.  “Frank, what happened?  Where’s Doc?”  Then I thought of my manners, “How’s Linda?”
     He pushed me toward the fire where he took a seat in a rocker there while I stood looking down at him.  “Linda’s in the bedroom,” he said, then smiled.  “A baby boy,” then he face grew serious.  “Two rough-looking characters busted in through the door and took Doc.  I, I tried to stop them, but they buffaloed me.”
     “Where’d they take him?” I questioned in a gruff manner.  I was upset, but there was no need of me taking it out on Frank.  “Sorry, Frank, I’m just upset.  Do you have any idea where they went?”
     He shook his head.  “I didn’t hear anything.  They hit me over the head and I went down.  Linda told me later,” he lifted his hand to his eye, “that one kicked me in the face.  That’s all I know.”
     I pulled on my moustache, then placed a hand on his shoulder.  “They shouldn’t be too hard to follow.”
     “They’re headed toward Mancos,” came a voice from the doorway.  Linda McClure was standing there, wrapped up in a quilt holding a bundle that I assumed was her baby.  Frank jumped from the rocker to rush to her.  Helping her to the rocker, he was chastising her quietly.  “You should be in bed.”
     “I heard voices, then recognized the voice of Marshal Forrest,” she replied then sat down in the rocker in front of the fire.  She looked tired, but she uttered, “ah, that feels good.”
     Turning her head up towards me.  “Marshal, they’re headed for somewhere outside of Mancos.  From what I gathered lying in the other room, they have a comrade that’s badly hurt.  How they knew Doc Jones was here I don’t know,” she paused, turning her face back towards the fire.  “Thank the good Lord, Doc had already delivered the baby.” 
     “You take care Linda, and take care of that little one.  Frank, you best take care of that head.  When I find Doc we’ll stop back by on the way to Durango.”
     It was over twenty miles to Mancos and I knew I couldn’t make it before dark.  There was a little community eight miles this side of Mancos, hopefully I could make it there before dark or closely after.  It was hard enough traveling in the light; I didn’t want to push Star in the snow during dark hours.
     Before mounting I broke the ice on the water trough and let Star slowly drink.  I didn’t want him guzzling ice cold water.  Then we headed out following the tracks making sure they were indeed heading towards Mancos.  “Lord,” I breathed, “be smilin’ down on my journey and be a-protectin’ Doc…”

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Believe me, no man knows what it means to be scared until he has to think of others besides himself. . . those he’s supposed to care for and protect.”
                    –Louis L’Amour  (Fallon)

       “Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, ‘Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!'”
                    –Mark 9:24 (NKJV)
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As we look at the next portion of Psalm 107, I want you to ponder the words of Charles H. Spurgeon:  “Prayer is good in a storm.  We may pray staggering and reeling, and pray when we are at our wit’s end.  God will hear us amid the thunder and answer us out of the storm…  And when God makes peace, it is peace indeed, the peace of God that passes all understanding.”

          23 — Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters,
          24 — They see the works of the LORD, and His wonders in the deep.
          25 — For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea.
          26 — They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths; their soul melts because of trouble.
          27 — They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits’ end.
          28 — Then they cry out to the LORD in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses.
          29 — He calms the storm, so that its waves are still.
          30 — Then they are glad because they are quiet; so He guides them to their desired haven.
          31 — Oh, that men would give thanks to the LORD for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!
          32 — Let them exalt Him also in the assembly of the people, and praise Him in the company of the elders.  (NKJV)

     I’ve been through all types of storms, but I cannot imagine a raging storm at sea, especially back in the days of wooden ships.  When I read this section I can imagine the waves crashing over the bow, the ship reeling this way and that.  Sailors try to batten down the hatches, but the storm is so bad that it is to no avail.  I think of the storm with Jonah and then again of the storm where the disciples feared for their lives.  In both cases, they cried out to God as this psalm says to do.  In their trouble they remember Him.
     The storm ceased to rage, the NLT translates verse 29 like this, “He calmed the storm to a whisper…”  The angry waves were now calm, as were the spirits within the men aboard the ship.  But that was not the end, God then brings them safely to their “desired haven.”  He doesn’t leave them out on the open sea, another storm could arise, but he brings them to harbor–where they needed to be.
     That’s the second thing I want you to ponder.  As you think of the fierceness of the storm, make it personal.  Apply it to the storm that rages within your soul.  Some may have never called upon the Lord.  I read about John Newton, who was a foul man who found the Lord in the midst of a raging storm.  His ship was being torn to shreds and he struggled not to drown, but the storm caused him to cry out to God.  It may be that you are going through the trials of life like you have never seen them before.  It seems that your very soul is being torn to shreds by the storm.  There was a song that I heard then evangelist Mike Purkey sing (perhaps it was written by Squire Parsons),
 
               “One night upon the sea, a ship was tossing to and fro,
               Breakers dashed on every hand, angry winds around them blowed,
               All on board were filled with fright, as the mighty billows rolled,
               Then they called upon the one, who the winds and waves controlled.
   
               When He reaches down His hand, billows cease at His command,
               Wind and waves obey His will.  When He says to them ‘be still’
               What Man is this they all did say, that the wind and sea obey,
               He’s the one who sails with me, He’s the Master of the sea.”

     When it seems that you are sinking deep into the sea of despair, call upon the Master.  When the house crumbles around you because of the tempest call upon the Master of the storm.  When, like Job, everything is taken away and you cannot see or understand why, call upon the One who cares for you–your Redeemer.  When the pestilence of disease strikes, hope seems feeble, turn to the Master of your faith who will bring hope to you.

               “Thy way is on the deep, O Lord!
               E’en there we’ll go with Thee;
               We’ll meet the tempest at Thy word,
               And walk upon the sea.”
                        –James Martineau

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

They’ve just brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and if you’ve been out long in this weather, I’d imagine you could use it!”

                     –Chris Bennett  (Sedition)
 
Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Yuh got yur longhandles on?  Sorta shake my head at the notion, but I remember when we used to ride that north country.  Why, we wore them all the time through the winter.  Don’t even own a pair anymore, but lookin’ at what the weather seers are sayin’ I might be needin’ them.  Not only that, my ol’ body thermostat don’t work so well anymore; I get cold quicker and stay that way longer.  I’ve heard of some folk havin’ ice water in their veins, but I’ll be having a spa right now.
      If’n the electricity goes out, I’ll just find another blanket.  Went and purchased a two-burner camp stove, just in case; that way I can keep the coffee on.  A couple of years ago we were without electricity for a day or so, and the kitchen and dinin’ room flooded because of the hot water heater.  Not expectin’ no troubles this time like that.  
     Pard, I had somethin’ profound to be speakin’ at yuh this mornin’, but plum forgot what it was.  That happens from time to time nowadays.  At least I remembered to get the coffee on.  Made some from a roaster called “Abeantogo.”  How ’bout that for a handle?  It was taken from that youngster who faced the fiery furnace back in ol’ ‘Nezzar’s day.  Mighty tasty coffee.  Hot coffee–sure is good on a day like today, an’ expect to be makin’ several pots over the next week.
     Yuh know, it’s one thing to sit by the fire and listen to that cold north wind a howlin’ in the trees.  It’s shore another thing to be out in it.  The chilly fingers of freezin’ temperatures will slowly strangle the warmth out of the body.  Why I remember the times I was so cold that my bones actually hurt, especially in the finger and toes.  Makes me think of all those “cold” souls out there walkin’ around when they could be warmed by the “fire” of the Holy Spirit.  There’s a reason that fire is one of His symbols for it is the Fire that brings soothin’ warmth to the cold spirit, similar to that hot cup of coffee yur a-holdin’ in yur hands. 
     Pard, stay warm as yuh can, don’t take no unnecessary trips.  Be sure and warm up yur hoss’s bridle and tighten that cinch.
     Vaya con Dios.