Author: Ira Paine

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

All men judge one another by the quality of their work. Except for sloppy, lazy men. And they aren’t even worth talking about.”
                    –John Deacon  (Conn 2)

       “Making the very most of your time [on earth, recognizing and taking advantage of each opportunity and using it with wisdom and diligence], because the days are [filled with] evil.”
                    –Ephesians 5:16(Amplified)
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The verse for the thought today you can feel.  Oh, what vivid imagery!  My jaws ache when I read it.  “Like vinegar to the teeth and smoke to the eyes, so is the sluggard to those who send him.” (Proverbs 10:26, ESV).  The sluggard, not one who is just tired, but the person who is habitually lazy, the couch potato, the one who has no ambition and wants everything handed to him.  “Work” to them is a four-letter word.
     Vinegar!  I remember tricking my cousin one time into drinking a small glass of vinegar with her thinking it was apple juice.  All kinds of expressions appeared on her face.  Lazy people cause many kinds of expressions on peoples’ faces just like vinegar.  Hire a sluggard and soon you will be making faces, soon you will be gritting your teeth.  Perhaps, if they stay around they will even fray your nerves and cause the bile to rise.  Perhaps you have had to do group work, either in school or in a crew on the job.  There’s always the slacker–the sluggard–the person who allows everyone else to do the work.  Sometimes, just to get rid of him, he is the one sent on an errand.  These lack-luster individuals just make you jerk your jaws.
     I love to camp, but I don’t much care for the smoke that gets in my eyes around the campfire.  Annoying to say the least, but it also burns and reddens the eyes.  “The eye is the light of the body,” J.L. Flores reminds us, “if vision is in any way obstructed or impaired, delay and vexation must ensue.”  That’s what the sluggard does.  The sluggard’s employer and colleagues become the victim of perplexity and annoyance.  Trust is gone for the sluggard is not dependable.  They delay in the performance of their duties, if they do them at all, and to carry their part in the workload is a hindrance and greatly affects the attitudes of other workers.  
     Where are they?  “The want of punctuality sometimes is as disastrous as not doing the thing at all.” (Flores)  You wait and wait for them to show up.  Then after the work starts you wait for them to show up again.  Oh, he might be physically present, but he is a slug.  His presence not only hinders production, but hurts quality as well, and often, if he does any work it has to be redone.  This person deserves the “right foot of fellowship” as I often put it.
     Attitudes are soured, often to the point of anger.  Plus a crew can lose good workers if the sluggard is allowed to stay too long.  There is a key Scripture which we should all take to heart where the Master asked, “Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?” (Matthew 20:6, NIV)  It is very dangerous to remain idle, to be a sluggard not only in work, but in the mind.  What is the old saying, “an idle mind is the devil’s workshop”?  The sluggard is without purpose, without productivity.  Look at the rolls of the unemployed.  I have had business owners and managers tell me several times, “there’s a reason they’re unemployed.”  Could it be that they are sluggards?  Wanting pay for work not done?  Forbid!  Listen, there’s work to be done!  There is a war going on, a battle to be won.  Why waste the opportunity in front of you?  Why waste your gifts, talents, and abilities?  Are you a good and faithful servant–or a sluggard?  William Arnot states, “Sluggishness is a cutting vexing thing.”  
     Good question then, are we an integral and valuable part to the kingdom or do we cause God to grit His teeth?  We are to be living letters, what then does your resume say?  Sluggard!  I trust not. That would be a poor testimony for the cause of Christ.  See, it is a sin to waste another person’s time, as well as the time the Lord has given to you.  Think of this:  Now is the day of salvation, work out your salvation with fear and trembling, do not be weary in well-doing, work while it is light.  Get the picture?  In other words, avoid the path of the sluggard.  Eternity is in view; will Jesus say “well done” or “go away”?  

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
All along I have tried my best to let wisdom guide my thoughts and actions.  I said to myself, ‘I am determined to be wise.’  But it didn’t really work.”  –Ecclesiastes 7:23 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
     Taking the keys I went inside the cell block to open the cells where Blackhand and Logan were kept.  Opening the cell, I said, “Let’s go.  You’re free.”
     Both looked at me, Billy Blackhand smiled, and Davy Logan gave me a dull, doped look.  I wondered how he would do without the laudanum that Doc was giving him.  We walked on out to the office where Lucas was getting their guns and other personal items for them.
     Blackhand looked at his pistol.  “It’s not loaded!”
     “You can load it after you’re out of town.  If you do so before, I’ll run you back in.”
     “Billy, help me,” cried Logan.  “Fasten my holster around me.  No, the other way, I’ll have to use my left hand.”
     Lucas had sent for their horses which were being kept up at Moses Vexler’s livery.  We were standing outside when Nob Linsell, a youngster who worked for Moses, brought them down.  I flipped him two-bits.
     “Marshal, you don’t have to do that.  Moses pays me well,” he remarked.
     “Take your gal to the parlor for some ice cream,” I said laughing, causing him to blush.
     He joined in with the laughter, “Maybe I just will.”
     Logan was having trouble mounting his horse.  Partially because of his hand, and partially because of the laudanum.  I didn’t bother to help, and I noticed that Billy didn’t either.  Finally, after Logan was in the saddle, Billy mounted his horse.
     “Coloraw has been reported up by Lake City,” I told him, getting no response.
     He stared at me with not hatred in his eyes, but almost as if they were empty.  Hollow, like his soul had become.  “I hope not to see you around these parts again,” I spoke sharply to them.
     “You won’t, lawman!  You won’t see me, you won’t hear me…”
     I cut him off.  “Get on out of here, or I’m liable to throw you back in that cell.”
     He pulled his gun out, and reached for a bullet on his belt.  I pulled my pistol, pointed it at him, and cocked it.  “You put one bullet in that gun and I’ll blow you out of the saddle.”
     Laughing, he pushed the bullet back in the loop, and holstered his gun.  “Let’s go Davy.”  Then he gave a loud whoop, kicked his horse and galloped on down the street to the West, followed more slowly by Logan.
     Lucas stepped up beside me and muttered, “Guess, they’re not going to Coloraw’s camp.”
     He opened the door to the office, then stopped.  “Senor Miles, I have not been in the job long, but I have seen the hearts of men.  It is, as if that one was vacant here,” he said, touching his chest.  “Nothing there.”
     I nodded.  “Lucas, unless the Spirit of God resides in us there is all sorts of evil that can and will take residence in our hearts.  It takes different forms in different people, none of it good.”
     “Si, Senor, I am learning…”

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

It sure seemed bad to die in a place that ain’t got no name. But some boys did.”

                    –John McKinney (Phantom Warrior–biography)

       “For we don’t want you to be unaware, brothers of our affliction that took place in the province of Asia:  we were completely overwhelmed–beyond our strength–so that we even despaired of life.”
                    –2 Corinthians 1:8 (HCSB)
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MEMORIAL DAY!  Several thoughts flood my mind upon remembrance of this day.  No, I’m not speaking of hamburgers and hotdogs, but of blood–meaning sacrifice, the ultimate one.  The poem of J. Maxwell Edmonds came to my mind:
               “When you go home,
                     Tell them of us, and say–
                     For your tomorrows,
                     We gave our today.”
My family has been fortunate with all the individuals serving that only two have died in conflict.  There was a distant cousin of mine who was killed on that horrendous day we call D-Day.  The beaches of Normandy claimed his blood.  My uncle, James, died in Vietnam in 1966.  But so many others died, dreams never fulfilled.  Some left families behind, others only thought that one day they may have a family never to see its fruition.
     Approximately 1.3 million Americans have died in the wars to protect our freedom.  That does not include other casualties, only those who died.  Think of those who died facing an enemy and being struck down, so many in their youth.  Larkin Spivey reminds us that, “It never hurts to stop and think about who we are and what we have become.  It is easy to drift spiritually, and without realizing it, come to a place far removed from God.”  We have been so fortunate, so blessed in this country, but even with the sacrifice of so many allowing us this wonderful privilege to serve God openly, think of how far we have drifted.
     Think of the oath of the soldier, and then look around you at the state of this country.  I recall the words of one sergeant, “I have sworn to protect…even to the death, the sorriest there is.”  True, and they do it to fulfill that vow of honor.  Paul wrote, “Carry one another’s burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2, HCSB)  Some cannot serve, some will not serve, but know this, there are those who pick up the burden and carry it.  Some of those drop it, not because of weariness but because their blood has emptied, their breath is now gone, and only the mystery of death is their lot.
     I know you are anxious to get the grill started, and the watermelon cut, and that is fine; it is alright for that’s why we have this day.  Part of the Memorial Day celebration is to enjoy those special times for there were many who gave their lives for you to do so.  But…some time during the day, take some time to reflect–to remember–to be thankful.  Also I would remind you also of the great martyrs of the church.  My, my, my…..such dedication!  I came across the following from the Union soldier’s prayer book issued in 1861.
               “Servant of God, well done!
                    God forth from earth’s employ.
               The battle fought, the victory won,
                    Enter thy Master’s joy.
   
               At midnight came the cry,
                   ‘To meet thy God prepare!’
               He woke–and caught his captain’s eye,
                    Still strong in faith and prayer.

               Soldier of Christ, well done,
                    Praise be thy new employ;
               And while eternal ages run,
                    Rest in thy Savior’s joy.”

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

The coffee was hot and strong, tasting mighty good right then.”

                    –D.C. Adkisson  (Walker)
 
Pard, let me look yuh over before I serve yur coffee.  From the looks of it, yur doin’ fine, no lumps on the noggin’, no crabs comin’ from the nose nor warts on it neither.  Yur skin ain’t covered like those hostiles we used to fight.  Overall, yur lookin’ fine.  Here’s yur brew, hot, strong, an’ mighty tasty.  Yuh know, there’s jist some days when it seems to be tastin’ extra special.  ‘Course at my age, every day makes it taste special, ’cause it’s another day to be a-tastin’.
     There’s been lots of talk ’bout them UFOs lately.  Now, they don’t bother me none.  The reason bein’ the Lord is in control of the whole, entire, complete universe!  But I want to know about the UMOs.  Yuh know them two-legged creatures movin’ ’round lookin’ like they got themselves all tie-dyed.  Yuh know, hair’s a many colored facet, with rings or crab claws comin’ from the nostril.  Some with pins, some with safety pins, some with rivets, and huge ol’ washers that we used to put in the garden hose.  Why, I remember the missionaries when they came to church would show pictures of those monstrosities in peoples’ ears and such.  My mercy, Pard, the ones we would send missionaries to preach the gospel to look better than what we see on the streets of America.
     Ahhh, the coffee’s good, makes the soul soothe out some.  Pard, let me be continuin’ my tirade.  Some say that clothes don’t make the person, an’ don’t be a-judgin’.  I’ve done my share of interviews over the years…  An’ I’ll tell yuh flat out, they don’t make the person, but they shore ‘nough often reflect what’s inside.  Yuh dress and make yurself up weird, there’s a reason for it.  They look in the mirror an’ think they’re beautiful; well, we know that the Lord will send a strong delusion.  My lands, ol’ Barnum and others with their “freak” shows would go broke today.  Jist walk down the streets, or go into a WalMart.  There’ scary folk around, then add to it all the other crazies wantin’ to maim, kill, hurt, and want rights that they’re not entitled to.  Some folk think they can do what they want–doin’ right in their own eyes.  Why, Pard, the ignorant mayor of Chicago, that foreign city, made the statement, “Arresting Black people for robbery, drugs, rage, violence, and murder by putting them in prison is racism.  Plain and simple.  Prison is not the answer.  Freedom is.”  What in the world is he thinkin’?  Let them run free to do more mayhem and harm?  Racism?  If they don’t go to prison, and folks sure don’t want them walkin’ the streets, what’s left…?
     Common sense ain’t so common anymore, an’ Pard, I’m fearin’ it’s not comin’ back anytime soon.  Normality, well, it’s all relative so I reckon society will not be seein’ normal again.  Folks we’re in a sure ‘nough dilemma.  Tighten yur cinches ’cause yuh never know what’s gonna go on ’round you.  The ol’ devil is sneaky.  Sometime’s he’s a-stalkin’ yuh, other times he’s right on top of yuh like a roarin’ lion, and other times he’s a-layin’ down those traps and snares that’ll grab yuh like jumpin’ cholla.
     Well, the pot’s empty an’ I didn’t get to tell yuh anything about Memorial Day.  Yuh be sure to take time to remember those who sacrificed to keep this country free, and even those UMOs can walk the streets because of their sacrifice.  If’n yur grilliin’ hamburgers and hotdogs, be safe, don’t catch on fire, nor eat too many, or slop the ketchup on yur shirt.  If’n yur smokin’ a brisket be sure yuh don’t let it get overdone.  Sit tall in the saddle, it’s important yuh hold yurself straight an’ steady.  Be wary, ’cause the ol’ devil ain’t gonna let up on yuh.  Have a good Memorial Day.
      Vaya con Dios.