Month: November 2025

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Just around the corner,
There’s a rainbow in the sky.
So let’s have another cup o’ coffee,
And let’s have another piece of pie.”

            –Irving Berlin
 
Mercy me, Pard!  Looks like yuh ate the whole turkey and most of the dressin’.  Feelin’ poorly towards yur hoss this mornin’.  What’s that?  It wasn’t the turkey, it was the pie.  Well, I reckon I can understand that.  Whoopee, but wasn’t it wonderful at the camp.  The weather mostly was cooperative, and fellowship grand, and the food superb, especially that Thanksgiving dinner.  Yuh know, Pard, it makes me thankful that we live in a country that has time set on the calendar to celebrate a day of thankfulness.
     Oh, don’t let me forget the coffee, yur cup is there on the table.  Ahhh, good coffee, tryin’ something new, Lavazza Super Crema an’ I crunched up the beans this mornin’.  Smell it ‘fore yuh go slurpin’ it.  Mighty fine, mighty fine…
     Now, as I was a-sayin’, sittin’ ’round the campfire, drinkin’ plenty of coffee I was ponderin’ from time to time the idea of bein’ thankful.  My, there is so much, and we don’t think of half the things we should be thankin’ the Lord for.  Just think, we should be thankin’ Him for this gadget I used to grind the beans, and the pot I brewed it in, and the cup yur a-holdin’, plus the delcious brew itself.  When we get to thinkin’ rightly, we get to thankin’ rightly and more often.  
     I don’t want to be spoilin’ yur sippin’, but I saw where there are some fools, not ignorant, but downright moronic folk who think…no they don’t think, they say that Thanksgiving is racist.  One snip was sayin’ that it was the day that the Europeans started the conquerin’ of the Indians.  Yuh know, she should be thankful for the Europeans or she wouldn’t be here, livin’ in this country, and able to be spoutin’ her poor measly mouth off.   Yes, there were problems and wrong-doin’s by all parties, but there was so much happenin’ in the providence of God.  Just think, and be thankful, for all the millions that have come to know the Lord either directly or indirectly from those few that took a bold step in pioneerin’ this country.  Let’s drink another cup of coffee to them, I won’t be feedin’ yuh no more pie for a while.
     We’re headin’ into the wonderful month of December that will close out the year, but also brings us to an invitation to be celebratin’ the birth of our Lord and Savior.  Be thankin’ the Lord, not only for the Savior, but also that we take time to recognize the miraculous birth.  Ahh, so much to take in, so much to be thankful for.  Why, Pard, I’m thankful that yuh showed up today, an’ didn’t forget to check yur cinch.  Why with those Thanksgivin’ pounds added yur saddle for shore would’ve slipped.
     Vaya con Dios.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

I sat down on the rocker and for a while just gazed at the moon, pondering the blessings and workings of the Lord.”

                    –D.C. Adkisson  (Redemption)

       “For your giving does not end in meeting the wants of your fellow-Christians.  It also results in an overflowing tide of thanksgiving to God.”
                    –2 Corinthians 9:11 (Phillips)
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Sure been nice sitting around the campfire, drinking coffee, chatting with friends and family, and just enjoying God’s wonderful outdoors.  Relaxing, refreshing, renewing, and it causes the soul to contemplate the important things in life, not the frivolous, not the wants and desires, but what is truly important.
     I pause here to say that there will not be an Echo sent out tomorrow, nor probably Friday either.  Enjoy your Thanksgiving and be giving God the thanks and glory for there are many who do not have it as well as you on Thanksgiving.
     Here is a little something I found to tide us over.  I do not know the author but the thoughts are good.

Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woes;
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth;
Count on God instead of yourself.
 
“Count your blessings and name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”  (Johnson Oatman, Jr.)

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
All people spend their lives scratching for food, but they never seem to have enough.”  –Ecclesiastes 6:7 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     “Finegan!  What are you doing up out bed? exclaimed Doc, flabbergasted upon seeing the two men come through the door.
     There was a big smile on Finegan, or Copper’s face as Rev. Chapman helped him walk over to the table.  “What’s the matter, Doc?” asked the Preacher, “Don’t you believe in miracles?”
     There was a mixture of anger and frustration on Doc’s face as he pulled out a chair for Finegan to sit on.  “Sit down, and now please tell me, Preacher, what gives you the right to bring one of my patients out?  One who is confined to his bed!”
     Rev. Chapman was just beaming as he helped Finegan to the chair.  “Easy Doc, don’t get yourself all ruffled.  Doc, Miles, Molly, I was you to meet a new brother in the Lord.  This here is a new believer, Boyd “Copper” Finegan, formerly of New York.”
     “Wonderful!” exclaimed Molly.
     “Well, if that don’t beat all,” huffed Doc as he began to look his patient over.
     “Why don’t you all sit down, and we’ll tell you what happened,” suggested the Parson, as he pulled out a chair for Molly to sit.  “It’s not all that spectacular and yet it is.  Anytime someone comes to the saving knowledge of the Lord it is a spectacular event, but why should we be surprised?”
     I hadn’t said a word, I was just listening and watching.  Watching Copper, or Finegan’s expression, and watching Doc begin to hover around him looking him over carefully.
     “You know, walking over here could have killed you!” snapped Doc, finally beginning to settle down.  His gaze went to the Preacher, “Why would you do such a thing?”
     “Doc, it was my fault.  After we prayed, and I accepted the Lord as my Savior, the preacher here touched my stomach, and put his other hand on my head.  Something hit me, no, more like something was jerked from me.  I told the Rev. Chapman that I wanted to get up and walk.  He found my clothes, and we walked on over here knowing that you all would be here,” explained Finegan, touching his stomach and then looking at Doc.
     “Honestly, doctor, I feel fine, just a little weak,” then he turned his attention to me.  “And Marshal, I want you to know I’m not holding any animosities towards you,” and he reached out his hand.
     As I shook it, the Preacher asked, “Are there any charges against Brother Boyd?”
     “Uh, as far as I’m concerned Mr. Slocum is doing well, and unless Deputy Ramos wants to press charges, I reckon his time recuperating should cover his jail sentence.”
     “Wonderful!  Say, Doc, could Brother Boyd stay at your place for a couple of days until I find him a place to live?  He was crawling into the stables at night,” the Preacher paused, then added, “He’s rather down and out right now.”
     Doc was still looking at Finegan, then all of a sudden he poked where I had hit him with the Greener.  He flinched some, but it didn’t seem to hurt him.  “Doc!” yelled the Parson, “what are you doing?”
     Doc scratched the side of his face, then went back to his chair and sat down.  “I won’t question the good Lord, and I do believe in miracles, even though I am somewhat skeptical at times.  Yes, yes, let him stay,” he scratched his face again.  “At least that way I can keep an eye on him.”
     The Preacher was beaming.  Finegan spoke up, “I’ve heard about your Thanksgiving festivities, I’d be proud if I could be of help.”
     It got quiet, then I spoke out, “No one can say that the Lord don’t work in mysterious ways…”  

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

You can know a man if you follow his trail, if you follow long enough. By his tracks on the land the ways of a man are made plain—his kindness or his cruelty, his ignorance or his cunning, his strength or his weakness.”
                    –Louis L’Amour  (The Key-Lock Man)

       “You have armed me with strength for the battle; you have subdued my enemies under my feet.”
                    –Psalm 18:39 (NLT)
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Ever have frustrations?  Trying to get people to do something, and then on top of that to do it right?  I know as a coach and principal I experienced that to some degree.  It seems that the more you expect, the more you prod, the less things get done.  It’s as if they are saying, “Try and make me.”  I would get frustrated with students and would tell them the problem is that I want you to succeed more than you want to.  As we look at the Song of Deborah, she found herself in that sort of situation.  Nobody was doing anything about the situation.  Keep that in mind as we look at the first part of her song in Judges 5.

          2 — When leaders lead in Israel, when the people willingly offer themselves, bless the Lord!
          3 — Hear, O kings!  Give ear, O princes!  I, even I, will sing to the LORD; I will sing praise to the LORD God of Israel.
          4 — LORD, when You went out from Seir, when You marched from the field of Edom, the earth trembled and the heavens poured, the clouds also poured water;
          5 — The mountains gushed before the LORD, this Sinai, before the LORD God of Israel.
          6 — In the days of Shamgar, son of Anath, in the day of Jael, the highways were deserted, and the travelers walked along the byways.
          7 — Village life ceased, it ceased in Israel, until I, Deborah, arome, arose a mother in Israel.
          8 — They chose new gods; then there was war in the gates; not a shield or spear was seen among forty thousand in Israel.
          9 — My heart is with the rulers of Israel who offered themselves willingly with the people.  Bless the LORD!  (NKJV)

Why, bless the Lord!  I can imagine the feeling when the people got together to purposely fulfill God’s will under the call and leadership of Deborah.  A leader’s joy is when others do their duty without being told and they do it right–the first time.   Hmm, perhaps the Lord looks down on us and thinks the same thing–“I wish they would just do what they are supposed to do”.  
     A little background on Deborah is necessary at this point.  You may find that you relate to some of her responsibilities.  “Deborah wore three hats:  a judge, a prophet, and ‘a mother of Israel.’  Israel desperately needed all three right then.  They needed a judge to bring law to a land that was falling apart.  They needed a prophet to bring them God’s message when they thought God had forgotten them.  And they needed a mother to call everyone together and get them moving.” (William Petersen)  Look at it more again, and bring it closer to home.  That seems to me to be the role of the Christian mother in the home.
     Because of Deborah’s actions, Israel was rescued from the Canaanites.  How many times have mothers rescued their homes from the onslaught of the Canaanites–the enemy that seeks to destroy the home.  It is not easy, and it often is not appreciated.  Saying an emphatic “No” is hard, but often it must be done.  Saying, “get busy” and then making sure it happens takes time, effort, and follow through.  Without Deborah the Israelites would most likely have just continued on with cultural compromise losing their identity and purpose.
     Now is the time for us to get busy with what our Lord wants us to be doing, using our gifts and talents to the best of our ability.  Doing the work He has called us to do, and doing it in the place where we find ourselves.  Work as unto the Lord and submit to His leading and know that He has armed us with strength for any battle we face.

               “Lead on, O King Eternal, we follow, not with fears;
               For gladness breaks like morning where’er thy face appears;
               Your cross is lifted o’er us; we journey in its light;
               The crown awaits the conquest:  lead on, O God of might.”
                       –Ernest W. Shurtleff