Author: Ira Paine

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

If women are the spoils of barbarous conquerors, they are also the sinews, the strength, the soul of defenders.”
                    –Zane Grey  (The Desert of Wheat)

       “Songs of joy and victory are sung in the camp of the godly.  The strong right arm of the LORD has done glorious things!”
                    –Psalm 118:15 (NLT)
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I am going to only look at another portion of Deborah’s hymn/song.  You can go back and read all of it at one time.  But pause to think of what is happening; it would be good to read Judges 4, then come back to Deborah’s Song.  The people were living in fear.  William Petersen says, “Fear paralyzes; faith frees.  And a fearless faith inspires others.” Keep that in mind as we read the next few verses from Judges 5.

          12 — Awake, awake, Deborah!  Awake, awake, sing a song!  Arise, Barak, and lead your captives away, O son of Abinoam!
          13 — Then the survivors came down, the people against the nobles; the LORD came down for me against the mighty.
          14 — From Ephraim were those whose roots were in Amalek.  After you, Benjamin, with your peoples, from Machir rulers came down, and from Zebulun those who bear the recruiter’s staff.  (NKJV)

     Fear had paralyzed Israel, that is all except for a woman named Deborah.  Deborah was not the one to lead the armies; it was to be Barak, but he too was frightened and was not up to the task.  Finally, he said he would not go to war unless Deborah went with him.  Deborah, obedient, went with him into battle and the Lord brought about a great victory.  As we read these verses and the rest of the song, we note that there were some of the tribes that did not follow her.  Perhaps it was because she was a woman, and whoever heard of a woman leading an army into battle.  Perhaps it was because they were too afraid.  Either way, they simply were not obedient to the call of the Lord.
     We read in Judges 4:14 where Deborah said to Barak, “Up!  For this is the day in which the LORD has delivered Sisera into your hand.  Has not the LORD gone out before you?” (NKJV)  Get this!  The Lord has already paved the way for our victory if we would but take the step to follow Him.
     There is one more little section I want to draw your attention to simply because I like the little rhyme, “Jael, drove the nail.”  

          24 — Most blessed among women is Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite; blessed is she among women in tents.
          25 — He asked for water, she gave milk; she brought out cream in a lordly bowl.
          26 — She stretched her hand to the tent peg, her right hand to the workmen’s hammer; she pounded Sisera, she pierced his head, she split and struck through his temple.
          27 — At her feet he sank, he fell, he lay still; at her feet he sank, he fell; where he sank, there he fell dead.  (NKJV)

     If we are obedient the Lord will act on our behalf.  If we have the courage to take the step He will give up faith and then add more faith, until the victory is won.  It may not be the way you expected.  The Lord may have someone to “drive the nail,” or He may simply confuse the enemy but if we have faith, He will supply the means and the victory.  We either accept challenges that come our way with fear or with faith.  Let your faith inspire others.  

               “Encamped along the hills of light, ye Christian soldiers rise,
               And press the battle ere the night shall veil the glowing skies.
               Against the foe in vales below, let all our strength be hurled;
               Faith is the victory, we know, that overcomes the world.”
                           –John H. Yates

 

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…”