Author: Ira Paine

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven.  A time to be born and a time to die.  A time to plant and a time to harvest.  A time to kill and a time to heal.  A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.”  –Ecclesiastes 3:1-3 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     The windows of the entrance were blasted out with the shot flinging glass and buckshot everywhere.  Barnes caught a good bit before we had time to react.  A few pieces found their way to me, but nothing serious.  Watching where the glass was I half-crawled to the doorway.  There was no one there but a few onlookers across the street.  I stood up then went outside to see if I could spot anyone.  In the far distance, up at the end of the street I saw a horseman pounding away.  
     I pointed to the couple across the street to come over to me.  As they began to approach I went back inside to check on Barnes.  He was bleeding from several spots, but from a casual observance I didn’t think any of them posed a severe threat to life.  I helped him up to a chair, then went to the bar to grab a couple of towels.  “Use these to stop the blood, until Doc gets here,” I ordered, then turned my attention to the couple.
     “Everyone all right?” questioned the man quite concerned.
     Nodding, I replied, “Nothin’ serious.  You’re the Hansens right?”  He seemed proud that I remembered.  “Linda and Cory.”
     He was gloating a little, then answered, “Proud you remembered us.  Yes, we own the leather and cobbler’s shop down the street.”
     “I saw you were across the street when the blast occurred.  Did you see the man who fired the shot?”
     He began to shake his head.  “We were hurrying to get to the shop as we’re some late in opening up this morning.  I wasn’t paying attention until after the shot, then I grabbed Linda and we got down close to boardwalk,” he said then smiled.  “Sorta to make ourselves as small as possible.”
     “I understand that.  But you can tell me nothing about the man?”
     Continuing to shake his head, “I’m sorry Marshal.  All I know is that he was wearing a brown coat and riding a bay horse.”
     “His spurs,” blurted Linda.  “He was wearing those Mexican rowels.  I saw them when he spurred his horse to ride off.”
     My hand went to the side of my face where I felt the same type of spur a month ago.  I wondered if it was the same person.  Someone with a vendetta.  “If either of you think of something else, come see me.”
     They both nodded, but before they turned to leave Cory asked, “How are the boots holding up?”  I remembered that I took a pair of boots to him for new soles.”
     “Fine, fine.  You do good work.”
     That made both of them beam and as they left Linda patted me on the arm.  “I pray that your day goes much better.”
     “So do I, “Ma’am, so do I.”
     As they walked off I saw Doc scurrying up the street as fast as he could in the slush and mud.  He glanced at me upon approaching and I pointed for him to go inside.  I followed.
     Barnes was gone.
     I followed the drops of blood out the back.  Doc was coming behind me.  The trail was hard to spot, but every now and then there was a drop of blood.  Wish the snow had stayed on the ground longer.  We walked down the alley cautiously.  I had already been startled once today and didn’t want a similar occurrence to happen.  
     The trail moved from the alley to the back of a warehouse where I saw that it went between two buildings.  “You stay here until I say it’s clear,” I ordered Doc.
     “You say he was hurt badly?” came his question.
     “Not that I could see.”
     He muttered something I didn’t quite hear, then spoke up.  “That blood is getting brighter.  I’m wondering if an artery wasn’t nicked.”
     I looked at him, then started moving up between the buildings.  A nice set up for an ambush if ever there was one.  No place to go if a shooter appeared.
     It was like I was prophesying.  A voice sounded in front of me, but in the dark of the shadows I couldn’t see anyone.  “You’re as good as dead, Forrest.”
     Stopping in my tracks I flung the Greener up…

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Sometimes in life, situations are simply out of our hands, and all we can do is trust God and give him room to work without us getting in the way.”
                    –Kenneth Pratt  (Emerson Solstice)

       “…Noah was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked faithfully with God.”

                    –Genesis 6:9 (NIV)
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Psalm 135 was the last Psalm that David Livingstone and his father shared together before Livingstone sailed for Africa.  This psalm is often called the “big God” psalm.  Read it, then read it again slowly.  Many believe that it was written after the exile in Babylon.  Today, we will look at the first part; though we won’t get to verse 21, note that the psalm begins and ends the same.

          1 — Praise the LORD!  Praise the name of the LORD; praise Him, O you servants of the LORD!
          2 — You who stand in the house of the LORD, in the courts of the house of our God,
          3 — Praise the LORD, for the LORD is good; sing praises to His name, for it is pleasant.
          4 — For the LORD has chosen Jacob for Himself, Israel for His special treasure.
          5 — For I know that the LORD is great, and our Lord is above all gods.
          6 — Whatever the LORD pleases He does, in heaven and in earth, in the seas and in all deep places.
          7 — He causes the vapors to ascend from the ends of the earth; He makes lightning for the rain; He brings the wind out of His treasuries.
          8 — He destroyed the firstborn of Egypt, both of man and beast.
          9 — He sent signs and wonders into the midst of you, O Egypt, upon Pharaoh and all his servants.
        10 — He defeated many nations and slew mighty kings–
        11 — Sihon king of the Amorites, Og king of Bashan, and all the kingdoms of Canaan–
        12 — And gave their land as a heritage, a heritage to Israel His people.  (NKJV)

     George Wood states, “This psalm contains not even a hint of trial or sorrow.  The battles have all been fought and won.  God’s work is complete, and His ways have been found perfect.”  This psalm lifts us out of despondency and tells us that His work in us will one day be complete.  I want to share a story about Billy Bray, who was a somewhat unconventional Methodist minister.

               In the early 1800s Billy Bray was known as a no-good drunken miner in a village in Cornwall, England.  Through the reading of John Bunyan’s book, “Visions of Heaven and Hell,” he became converted and he was never the same again.  “I can’t help praising God,” he once said.  “As I go along the street, I lift up one foot, and it seems to say, ‘Glory,’ and I lift up the other, and it seems to say, ‘Amen.’  If they would put me in a barrel to keep me quiet, I would shout, ‘Glory!’ out of the bunghole.  Praise the Lord.”
               Billy would often say about the Lord, “He has made me glad and no one can make me sad; He makes me shout and no one can make me doubt; He makes me leap, and no one can hold down my feet.”  Shortly before his death, Billy was asked if he was afraid, and he answered, “My Savior conquered death.  If I was to go down to hell, I would shout, ‘Glory, glory’ to my blessed Jesus until I made the bottomless pit ring again, and then old Satan would say, ‘Billy, Billy, this is no place for you; get out of here.’  Then up to heaven I should go, shouting, ‘Glory, glory, praise the Lord.'” (Petersen, William J.  One Year Book of Psalms.  Tyndale House, Wheaton, IL, 1999)

     What actually is praise?  First it is an act of the will.  Then we see the Hebrew word “halal” which means “to boast”; therefore praising God means boating in the Lord or braggin upon him. (Steven Lawson)  Listed in this psalm are several reasons for us to praise the Lord.  We see first that the Lord is good which means “beneficial, positive, giving what is needed, dealing bountifully with.” (Lawson)  This is an attribute of God.  We praise Him because He is good (all the time and all the time He is good)!  Both His character and the attribute are worthy of praise.
     Note that He has chosen Jacob (Israel).  We have no need to worry over the nation of Israel for it is in God’s hands.  Praise Him for His keeping of His chosen people.  But hold on, wait just a minute.  Realize that He has also chosen you.  Praise Him for He has chosen you.  You do not have to worry, for He will keep you, protect you, and bring you home to glory.  Then He deserves praise because of His authority and sovereignty.  He is the great God; He does whatever pleases Him.  Look at His power.  One more aspect, look at His miracle-working power on behalf of His children.  “Signs are clear evidences of God’s character.  Wonders leave a sense of awe and terror in their hearts.” (Lawson)  This is true not only for Israel but for you and me also.
     We are God’s, we belong to Him.  “You are chosen of God.  You may not understand all the mystery of that; but for sure you are not some afterthought or a cheap nothing.  You are God’s treasured possession.” (Wood)  No matter what is happening in this world, or in your life, know this–He has control over all the events, and He is not concerned or surprised by them.  Then when we realize that, why is it that we do not praise Him more?  Lift one foot as the preacher of old said and proclaim “Glory” and then as it comes down and you lift the other declare “Amen”, and thus go through life with a “Glory–Amen” on your lips.  Ahhh, what a way to live this life!

               “His dress was always homely;
               His dwelling somewhat poor,
               But the presence of his Savior
               Made up for that and more.”
                     (unknown, but written for Billy Bray)

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Good morning, come on in out of the cold and grab yourself a cup of coffee. I got a fresh pot over there on the stove and it should be just above ready.”

                     –Nathan Wright  (The Pursuit)
 
Brrr, it’s cold, an’ I’m afraid it’s gonna get colder.  Coffee’s hot though an’ it’ll warm yur innards.  Say, Pard, next week is settin’ up to be quite a week.  Monday, a new President will take office.  Out with the old, liberal, wokeism and hopefully in with some type of genuine, get-down-to-business plan.  Let’s see what happens.  We have an situation given to us by the good Lord to get back to the foundations–let’s see.
     Feel that coffee workin’ its way down into yur core?  Ahhh, even in the midst of the storms, we can still share a cup of hot java.  Speakin’ of storms, that’s the second thing that’s settin’ up to happen.  Supposed to get downright cold here in this part of Texas, well, in fact most all of the state.  Predicticatin’ snow.  That’ll be all right as long as the electricity doesn’t go out like it did a couple years ago.  But we’ll face whatever comes with the Lord by our side.
     I remember a few years back when I told someone the cold makes my bones ache.  Why she almost threw a conniption fit.  She said don’t speak those words.  Now, I’ve been ’round long enough to hear hoo-doo and even some voodoo an’ that was what that was.  Listen, Pard, the holy Scripture is not hocus pocus.  We are to worship in truth, that means reality.  We worship no matter the situation, no matter if the bones ache or not.  Why that ol’ ‘postle Paul said that he bore the scars on his walk with the Lord.  He didn’t testify them away.  I saw that lived first-hand in the lives of my Grandma and Aunt Bern.
     Sure hopin’ I don’t have to get out.  Supposed to see the heart doc on Tuesday, that’s the day it’s supposed to snow.  Might have to change my appointment.  Not that I can’t drive in snow, but it’s the rest of these fools around here that concern me.  Yuh, be havin’ a safe week, stay warm, and if’n yuh have to go out in the cold and weather for land sakes check yur cinch.
     Vaya con Dios.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

I take very seriously the preference of men with many scars.”
                    –John Deacon  (A Man Called Justice)

       “He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.”
                    –Psalm 147: 3 (NKJV)
——————–
     I was reading the other day and within the material was the idea of “scars.”  It reminded me of one of my best friends growing up who had scars on the side of his face.  One day I asked him, “Tommy, how did you get those scars?”  Deadpanned, he replied, “While sledding, a barb-wire fence jumped out at me.”
     Everyone carries some kind of scars.  Some more pronounced, some hidden.  Many carry physical scars while others bear hidden ones.  The number varies as well.  In my book, “Winter of the Wolves,” Miles Forrest remarked, “Scars also remind me that a person cannot run from life.”  Then I thought of the words I read recently from Mike Allred, “Maybe life isn’t about avoiding the bruises.  Maybe it’s about collecting the scars to prove you showed up for it!”
     True, often scars are the result of the lack of common sense, or even sheer stupidity.  As David wrote, “My wounds stink and fester because of my foolishness.” (Psalm 38:5, ESV)  Take a look in the mirror, glance at your scars, including those etched and marked on the soul.  How many came from the lack of good sense?  Perhaps we need to think like Greg S. Baker, “He studied the scars, old friends that sometimes reminded him of things best forgotten”; and hopefully lessons learned.
     Dave Roever, a man well acquainted with scars, asks a poignant question, “Can He trust you with your scars?”  That brings me back to what I was reading.  
               “Then Jacob was left alone; and a Man wrestled with him until the breaking of day.  Now when He saw that He did not prevail against him, He touched the socket of his hip; and the socket of Jacob’s hip was out of joint as He wrestled with him…  Just as he crossed over Penuel the sun rose on him, and he limped on his hip…the socket of Jacob’s hip in the muscle that shrank.”  –Genesis 32:24-25, 31,32, NKJV
Not only did Jacob have a spiritual experience, but for the rest of his life he walked with a limp.  God’s touch caused pain.  (Ponder that!)  “Like Jacob, like all of us who limp along in this life, wounded within or without, we are called to be stewards of our scars.  It is a sacred duty.” (Chad Bird)
     Stewards of scars!  Imagine that; something I had never considered before.  God should be able to trust us as good stewards of anything that belongs to the Master.  Chad Bird explains, “Stewards do not own that for which they are responsible.  They are called to faithfully manage what another has given them.  God owns our scars; we steward them.”  The Vietnam veteran Dave Roever reminds us, “The scars are only temporary signs of a worldly battle.” Paul wrote, “I carry on my scarred body the marks of my owner, the Lord Jesus.” (Galatians 6:17, Phillips)
     Scars are also valuable in identification.  “Any identifying scars?” may be on a questionnaire for employment or used by law enforcement to aid in apprehending a criminal.  Scars identify battles which were fought and bonds that were forged.  As Shakespeare penned the words spoken by Henry V:
               “He that shall live this day, and see old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, and say, ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian’:  then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.  And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day’….  We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother…”
     Perhaps there is more to the words preached by the Chaplain of the Senate, Peter Marshall when he said, “When we eventually reach the goal to which we are all striving, God will look us over, not for diplomas, but for scars.”  As the now deceased missionary Charles Greenaway used to say, “we’re going to make it.  We may not look like much when we enter the gates of heaven, but we’re going to make it.”
     I would be remiss if I did not mention the Man of Sorrows who caused Thomas to cry out in anguish, “My Lord and my God!”  Remember what Thomas said, “Unless I see in His hands the prints of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.” (John 20:25, NKJV)  Scars–proof.  Scars–battle.  Scars–stewardship.  Scars–identity.  There is one stanza of Edward Shillito’s poem, “Jesus of the Scars”, I want to share:
               “The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
                    In all the universe we have no place.
               Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
                    Lord Jesus, by thy scars we know thy grace.”
     Alexander Maclaren tells us, “The wounds can all be healed, for the Good Physician has lancets and bandages, and balm and anodynes for the deadliest; but scars remain even when the gash is closed.”  Thus the question remains–“Can He trust you with your scars?”  “It is a sacred duty!”