Month: February 2026

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Finishing is better than starting.  Patience is better than pride.”  –Ecclesiastes 7:8 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     Lucius proceeded to tell me that he thought he heard someone in the office after we left.  He didn’t think much of it, thinking that one of us came back for something.  He then looked down at his boots.  “I can tell you were thinkin’ that it was either me or my brother.”
     “Well, the thought did cross my mind.  I hated to think that way, but I had to follow up my investigation.”
     “Marshal,” cried Mort, “haven’t we proved ourselves?”
     “It’s called reputation, Mort.  It takes time to live down a poor one,” I told him, then added.  “It’s just my nature to be suspicious,” I smiled, “‘specially of someone who once pointed a gun at me.”
     The snow continued to melt as the days warmed up.  It was only the end of February so I doubted that we had seen the end of winter.  There was more snow and cold weather ahead of us.  I was sorta getting antsy wanting to hit the trail on my new position, but at the same time I didn’t want to get caught out in a snowstorm.  Perhaps I was getting a little too comfortable in my old age.
     I was down at the diner, enjoying the warmth of the stove and the taste of the coffee whilst chatting with Doc.  He was being his cantankerous self and slobbering over a piece of chocolate pie.  It seemed that Molly kept one for Lucas and Doc found out about it.  
     “I don’t know who is more spoilt–you or Lucas?”  I declared, then wiped some coffee residue off my moustache.
     Molly’s voice chirped up as she walked toward us.  “It’s you, Miles Forrest, and don’t you be denying it,” she barked then handed me a piece of berry pie.  “There’s one more jar left until next season, so you have better enjoy it.”
     Lifting my fork I had just cut into the pie when Jimmy Hopkins burst through the door.  He ran up to the table with his hand out holding a scrap of paper.  “Telegram, Marshal.  Mr. Offut said to hurry it down to you.”
     I reached in my vest pocket for my coin pouch and gave him a dime.  That brought a large grin to his face.  Then Molly asked, “Would you like a piece of pie, Jimmy?”  He hesitated then took a step to leave.  “It’s the last piece of chocolate.  Go ahead, sit yourself down.  I’ll bring it right to you.  Stanley can wait for a couple of extra minutes for you to return.”
     “Well, who’s it from?” barked Doc.  “Open it!”
     “From McBride,” I muttered then perused the note ignoring Doc causing him some consternation, which was my intent.  Molly was returning with the pie for Jimmy and tried to read over my shoulder.
     “Some trouble over towards the ruins.  Seems there has been several Navaho killed and McBride wants me to check it out.”
     I was on the trail early the next morning.  It seemed prudent to bring along a pack mule, just in case the weather turned bad.  I was riding Hawk; he was a much better horse for this type of weather.  I had been on the trail for a day.  The trouble was just outside a little place they were calling “Cortez.”  It happened about five miles outside of Mancos.  The impact hit me, then I heard the shot.  As I was falling off Hawk, I remember saying, “Help me, Lord,” then the ground rose up to meet me…

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Sometimes responsibility had an uncomfortable fit, like a right boot on a left foot.”
                    –Elmer Kelton  (The Day the Cowboys Quit)

       “But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin.”
                     –1 John 1:7 (NKJV)
——————————
               “O the bliss of the man whose heart is broken for the world’s suffering and for his own sin, for out of his sorrow he will find the joy of God!”
                         –Matthew 5:4  (Barclay)

     As we continue looking at this beatitude I want to first take a look at false mourning.  Crocodile tears–they mean a false or fake heart.  As a principal I was used to seeing crocodile tears, especially from female students.  I remember one time, this girl was sent to my office, boo-hooing.  I let her go on for a spell, then sharply spoke, “Stop, it!”  The tears stopped flowing and it was as if she had not been crying.  It was a good show, but I was wary and on to her.
     Thomas Watson warns us about those false mourners.  You may have noticed them at some point in your life, or, shame, you might have done one or more of these yourself.  The first is the false mourning of despair.  We see this in Judas.  Matthew tells us that he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver.  We see remorse, and perhaps some sorrow, but no real repentance.  Tears may have flowed and we could suggest several reasons but not one of those tears brought him to repentance; he could have been saved.
     The second false mourner is that of the hypocrite.  We see this in Saul when he is confronted by Samuel.  He looks like a mourner; he even says the right things.  However, he does not take the shame for himself, and makes excuses and does not repent.  The kingdom is lost to his heirs, and it seems that like Judas, his soul was lost as well, for he continued on a downward course.
     The third mourner is the force mourner.  We can almost hear the boo-hooing of Cain as he stands before the Lord in judgment.  “My punishment is greater than I can bear!”  Notice that his punishment bothered him more than his sin.  As Watson relates, “The tears of the wicked are forced by the fire of affliction.”  How many have promised, with tears flowing, when caught in a crime or a sin that their punishment is unfair, unjust, and that they cannot bear it.  Again, no repentance, just feeling sorry for themselves, that the consequences of their actions are unfair, and that they got caught.
     One more type of mourner is that of the external.  This is the one that does all of the outward motions of mourning.  We see this in Ahab.  He was sorry to the extent that he put on a good show to the prophet and the people around.  His sorrow was not from the heart, but lay only on the outside.  He tore his clothes, but his heart was not torn.  Jesus speaks of this type of mourner when He says, “When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting.” (Matthew 6:16, NIV)  They put on a good show and they present themselves as if in mourning, but the reality of it was not real.  
     All four of the above cried their crocodile tears, but they were deceptive, manipulative, and had unclean motives.  This is not true mourning for sin.  Those who are truly mourning will recognize that sin is an action of hostility and enmity against God.  They know that it is the highest form of ingratitude against God, and that it hinders any communion with God except to repent.  See true gospel-mourning is a soul quest for God.  It is mourning over particular sins and self-loathing (which we are not supposed to do anymore in our more enlightened society) because of sin.  This repentance is purifying and there must be an honest hatred of sin, theirs and the sins of the world.  There may be restitution if possible and it will be speedy, it is not put off.  David Wilkerson reminds us that, “Conviction is not condemnation.”  Take care of the sin immediately, repent.   And I will say this, that the need will be perpetual.  In saying that I don’t mean for the same sin, but we need to walk closely to the Lord so that we know immediately if we have committed any transgression against Him.  “The closer the Christian lives to God, the more he will mourn over all that dishonors Him.” (Arthur Pink)

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

But you’ve worn out your stomach with nine cups of coffee every meal.”

                    –Zane Grey
 
Come on in, Pard, grab yur cup.  Listen, no matter what that ol’ sage had to say, I don’t drink nine cups after every meal.  Maybe two or three; it is nice to have a cup after the supper meal though.  Don’t know if’n the coffee would wear out the stomach or line it so’s that it won’t wear out.  Sorta like sealin’ it up.  Been havin’ some good coffee lately.  Ahhh, sittin’ in my chair, watchin’ the sunrise ev’ry mornin’, and sippin’ the hot brew whilst thinkin’ on the Lord and doin’ my mornin’ readin’.
     Well, Pard, I went out an’ did my duty as a citizen yesterday.  Notice I used the word “citizen.”  Only citizens have the right to vote.  I surely don’t know where folks get the idea that all have the same rights in this country.  There are some that are for citizens only.  Non-citizens and felons who have lost the right to vote because of the consequences of their actions need to stop their clamorin’ for their rights.  An’ worse are those pseudo-politicians who back them, not out of concern, but out of the vote that would come their way.  Bunch of lily-livered, white-washed, veneer-covered, mouthy no-goods is what they are.
     Ahhh, but no need to get the gizzard riled.  The Lord has it all under His control, but He still expects us to do our duty no matter where we live.  An’ one more thing, Pard.  That fellow in the Senate who keeps mouthin’ off ’bout Trump wantin’ to be a king, best be gettin’ ready.  Two kings are on the horizon.  One is the man of lawlessness, the one who will demand worship and will bring world-wide anarchy and chaos.  When he is disposed of the true and righteous king of the universe will rule–Jesus Christ.  My, my, my what a day that will be.  Peace, order, and control will finally come to the weary ol’ world.  The curse will be removed, and those wildfires and other natural disasters will stop.  Nature will be quittin’ its groanin’s.  
     Pard, think of it.  No more quibblin’, an’ hopefully all the cinos will be done away with, an’ I’m not jist a-talkin’ ’bout coffee cinos.  I’m speakin’ ’bout those watered-down, mouthy folk who are ignorant of the Lord and His way, and are downright fools.  See Pard, those folks don’t know the truth and many of them don’t want to know the truth.  But thank the Lord, as Paul done tolt us, “We have the mind of Christ.”  Yep, he wrote that to the church in Corinth, let’s me think, first book, 2:16.  But Pard, now is the time for us to be strong, like that thar coffee yur a-slurpin’.  Now, we are to be havin’ the mind of Christ, living a holy life, thinkin’ ’bout the things of the Lord, an’ then be a-doin’ them.
     If’n yuh haven’t done yur duty in votin’, best be gettin’ it done.  Make sure yuh vote for the godliest person yuh know, one that tries to be livin’ by the Good Book.  An’ Pard, don’t go runnin’ out to vote without first checkin’ yur cinch.  Fallin’ on yur noggin’ might knock some sense into yuh, but it could make yuh dizzier than yuh already are.  Be havin’ a good an’ safe week.
     Vaya con Dios.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Never give up to the desert or to any of its minions!  Never cease to fight!  You must fight to live–an’ so make that fight equally for your mind an’ your souls!”
                    –Zane Grey  (Wanderer of the Wasteland)
 
       “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does.  The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world.  On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.”
                    –2 Corinthians 10:4-5 (NIV)
——————————-
     Beware as you travel in the wilderness of nature’s traps.  There may be sinkholes and other hidden obstacles.  Watch your step as you could stumble and fall into a pit.  Maybe it has already happened to you as it did to Pilgrim when he fell into the Slough of Despond.  When one is not paying attention to their steps or when one gives over to the dark days of depression, not caring if you survive, much less go on, is a terrible pit to fall into.  Perhaps there have been friends or family who have turned on you–often that is a hard pit to crawl out of, so you just decide to lay there, accepting your situation, and rot.  You may have tried, but not, finding yourself in the wilderness, you are in shock.  Your shoulders start to droop, your head bows, and you struggle to stand as your knees begin to falter.  You have fallen into a deep, dark pit of despair.
     The pit where you find yourself might not be real as in the case of Joseph, but it is just as deep as dark as his.  Imagine him sitting in the darkness.  What were his thoughts?  I’m sure they rambled all over the place.  Surely the question, “Why” came to his mind.  Perhaps, “Will my brothers really kill me?”  Imagine the despair and thinking of the hate his brothers had for him.  “How could they be so cruel?” might be another question.  His mind must certainly have been in a whirl, sitting in that dark pit–a pit of despair.
     It would not be Joseph’s only venture in the wilderness.  He found himself in other various pits during his life.  His wilderness wastelands varied, but they continued throughout his life.  Perhaps, even while second in power as vizier of Egypt where he lived in luxury, he may have wondered in the wilderness of thoughts–“Why, why, why?”  But he did not live in despair even in the piit.  He proclaimed that God meant it for good while others meant it for evil.
     The key to Joseph’s survival is threefold:  he learned to understand the wilderness, he never forgot to serve the Lord, and he knew that the Lord had a special purpose for his life.  He understood that he would have to survive the physical ordeal, the mental anguish, and the spiritual low.  Mentally and spiritually he would have to fight.  He understood that he must keep his mind active, that he must continue to worship the One that would never leave him alone in the dark pit, or the prison cell, or the despair of the dungeon.  He may not understand the “why” of the circumstances, but he never let an experience defeat him.  In his situation he continued to serve, not only God, but his fellow man, and I am sure he was in constant prayer.
     Take a minute to consider Reuben.  Yes, there was a bit of heroism, though not much, when he stopped the brothers from killing Joseph, and he even had thoughts of rescue.  We read in Genesis, “And Reuben said to them, ‘Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit which is in the wilderness, and do not lay a hand on him’–that he might deliver him out of their hands, and bring him back to his father.” (37:22, NKJV)  He was the oldest, why didn’t he stop them and put an end to their vindictiveness?  Was he afraid?  Had fear thrust him into his own special wilderness?  Imagine his thoughts for the next several decades; he surely had those continual, nagging questions:  “Why didn’t I stop them?”, “Where is Joseph?”, “Did he die; is he a slave somewhere?”  Reuben must have been tortured in his mind.  He faced the torment of a wasteland that could have destroyed a lesser man.  How did he survive?  Was there always the hope hidden somewhere that he might see Joseph again; did he think of the dream Joseph shared with his brothers, or had that hope gone as well?  Even though robust, someone who had the look of a man who controlled his problems, he was actually a man with a hollow soul.
      Joseph moved from pit to pit, but God was always faithful.  Even in the midst of the deepest pit, Joseph always realized that he was never alone.  He let God deal with the situations that were beyond himself.  When his family, years later, came to Egypt facing a wilderness of famine, he was able to save them.  And God, being merciful, allowed Reuben to see his brother that he allowed to be thrown into the pit, and was brought out of his peculiar wilderness and allowed to hope again.
 
(taken from Trails in the Wilderness)