XXV.
By noon, Blane could not stay in bed any longer. He was concerned about Faye who had not returned from her search for Claude. The children had not been fed. And he needed to check on Wade who was tied up in the barn.
The pain in Blane’s lower leg was excruciating. Even the thought of moving it made him wince. Finding a way to become mobile in spite of the pain, however, would at least lend comfort in knowing he was doing something.
He turned to the little girl who was sitting in a chair by his bed. She had posted herself between him and Andy, ready at beck and call, to furnish any need either he or Andy may have had.
“Amie, do me a favor. Stand up and slide the chair over here.” As he spoke, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The little girl stood up. “What are you going to do?”
Feeling his lower leg begin to throb in pulsating waves of pain, Blane breathed heavily in and out. For a moment, he could not speak to answer the girl. After a moment, however, he said, “I’m not sure, yet.”
As Amie slid the chair next to his bed, he took hold of the seat and turned it away from him. Then he placed one hand on top of the chair’s back and his other hand at his side.
“Now sit down on the chair, Amie. That way it won’t tip when I stand up.”
When the girl’s weight had anchored the chair to the floor, he used the back of the chair for leverage. Slowly, he raised himself into a standing position, holding most of his weight on his good leg. When he finally straightened himself, he placed both hands on the back of the chair and stood motionless for several moments. His lower leg came alive with a fiery pain that caused him to feel dizzy and weak.
“Are you alright, Parson Blane?” the girl asked.
The sound of her voice caused him to open his eyes and glance at the girl. “Yeah, Amie, I’ll be alright in a minute.”
After the initial shock of the pain had subsided, he began to accustom himself to the throbbing agony. He asked the little girl to stand up. Then he slid the chair forward a few inches. Holding his weight with both hands on the chair’s back and ever-so-slightly on his wounded leg, he hopped forward until his weight was again on his good leg.
Several more times, he inched forward. Then he pushed the chair a slightly longer distance and was able to increase the length of each painful step.
Amie, who had watched with great interest, stepped alongside him. She placed one hand on her hip and asked, “Now that you’re up, where are you going?”
Blane was so amused by her gesture and tone of voice that he almost chuckled. The girl was obviously upset at having lost her position of being in charge of him.
Before answering, Blane thought for a moment. Then he said, “Amie, I would like your opinion about something.”
His words totally disarmed the girl’s attitude. An adult wanted her opinion about something!
“You and I,” Blane continued, “want to be as much help to your mother as we can, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then how do you think we can best do that? Well, let’s see. Do you think you can find something to eat for you and Andy? And me, well, how about I go out to the barn and check on the man tied up in there. After that, we will have to plan what to do next. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Blane watched the little girl’s eyebrows rise and her face break out in a wide smile. “Yes, Parson Blane. I think that’s a good idea.”
“Good. Let’s get busy!”
Blane made his way to the front door. When he opened it, he saw that the rain had slowed to a drizzle. But also the ground was muddy. He closed the door from the inside and swung the chair around so he could sit on it to rest. “Amie, would you fetch my boots?”
The little girl had been preparing sandwiches smeared with apple butter.
“Yes, Parson Blane, I’ll get them.”
When Amie handed Blane his boots, he sat them on the floor. He slipped into one boot with the foot of his good leg. Then he realized the top of his other boot would rub against his wounds. “Amie, I need a knife so I can cut this boot.”
The little girl retrieved a knife and held it up. “Here’s a knife.”
“That will work. Thank you.”
After Amie handed the knife to Blane, he cut the stove pipe of the boot off at the tongue area below the cuts Wade had made. As he did, he lamented the fact he was further ruining a good pair of boots for which he had paid $1.19. They were made of fine leather and had served him well for the past three years.
He stood up and swung the chair around to use again as a crutch. Then he opened the door.
When he stepped outside, he noticed the mule tied at the hitching rail near the barn. Immediately, he knew Faye had returned. But where was she?
Scanning the area, Blane concluded Faye must be inside the barn. And that could only mean trouble!
Now, in his haste, he inadvertently put more pressure on his wounded leg. He immediately recoiled at the pain. Whereas he had been debating whether or not to muddy the chair to cross the yard, or perhaps to hop on one leg, the pain told him to use the chair. Additionally, he would be less likely to lose his balance while hobbling across the soggy ground.
Hurry as he might, however, his progress was very slow. As he drew near to the barn, he heard Faye’s voice. She had begun to scream at Wade.
When Blane opened the barn door, the light of day streamed in. There, before him, Faye stood, pointing a pistol at Wade’s temple.
Faye turned her head and looked at Blane.
Wade cried, “Help me. This woman is crazy. She’s gonna kill me!”
“Don’t do it, Faye,” Blane said.
Still watching Blane, Faye said, “You shouldn’t be up and about on that leg.” She continued to hold the gun to Wade’s head. “This man killed my husband. Now, he’s going to get what’s coming to him!”
“Claude is dead?”
Faye nodded. “Cut with a knife across his stomach.” She turned back to Wade. “You left him there to rot like an animal. Even his feet were bare. What did you do? Steal his boots?”
“No,” Blane said. “Clem did that. I remember when he walked his horse to the water trough. He walked like his feet were hurting. And I’ll bet that extra rifle Clem had tied to his saddle belonged to Claude, too.”
Wade was shaking. “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. Clem did it! I begged him not to kill an innocent man, but he did it anyway.”
“That’s a lie,” Blane said flatly. “There was only one knife between you and Clem. And it belongs to you.”
Faye cocked the hammer on the pistol.
“You can’t kill him, Faye. That would be murder.”
“Are you going to try to stop me?”
“No,” Blane said. “But if you kill him your soul will be linked to his for the rest of your life. You will be guilty of murder. Then what will become of your children? They need their mother.”
Faye stood motionless. Finally, she said, “Well, he’s not going to get away with it.”
“I’ll turn him over to the law. He won’t get away with it.”
After a long moment, Faye uncocked the hammer and lowered the gun to her side. The gun slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. Then she stepped around in front of Wade and slapped him hard across the face.
She turned and walked toward Blane. “Come on.” She placed her arm around his waist and Blane put his arm across her shoulders. Together they made their way to the cabin.
XXVI.
For the first few days when she wasn’t preparing meals, Faye stayed mostly to herself in her room. Occasionally, Blane would see her late at night. She would come into the room and check on Andy, speaking softly to him. Then she would sit in the chair beside Blane’s bed. “Do you need anything?” she would ask.
He could see she had been crying. Invariably her hair was a mess, and she looked tired and worn out.
Blane spent the days mostly in bed, allowing his leg to heal. Twice daily, he took food to Wade in the barn. The routine continued for more than a week.
Then, late one night, Faye came into the room and sat in the chair beside his bed.
“Faye, I want you to come to Abilene with me when I leave in a few days.”
Faye tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you and the children can’t stay here. You can’t work the farm alone and Andy should be checked by a doctor. You need people around you and a place where you can buy supplies.”
“You mean I should leave my home?”
“I know a woman in Abilene who will take you in and give you time to establish yourself. You can sell the farm and have money to provide for your children.”
“No, Sam. I couldn’t possibly leave. It’s simply out of the question.”
“Faye, you have no choice. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know how Claude and you were able to manage so far away from civilization. Andy needs to be in school. Amie should have started school already. You can put the farm up for sale in Abilene. Let someone else have it. There’s nothing here for you anymore.”
“Sam,” she said. “I’ve been thinking. Would you stay on here and manage the farm? I promise I will provide for all your needs.”
Blane blinked hard.
“It wouldn’t be that bad, Sam. We could build a life together. And you’re so good with the children. We could be happy here. I know it.”
“Faye, you don’t know what you’re asking. I have work to do for the Lord.”
“Oh, you and your ‘Lord’! You may not love me now, Sam. But time will change that. We could live as husband and wife. You would be happy here.”
Blane sat up. “Faye, I can’t be with a woman who is not a Christian.”
Faye straightened in the chair. “Why not?”
“Don’t you know? The Bible says, ‘Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.’ It is one thing for two people to be married already. But to choose such a situation from the beginning is entirely different.”
“What do you mean?”
“When one person is a Christian and the other is not, it’s like two apples in a barrel. One apple is spoiled, which will spoil the other.”
Faye turned her head away. “Are you comparing me to a spoiled apple?”
“Yes, I am. Your soul is lost. I pray for you, Faye, that the Lord will soften your heart so you will seek Him.”
Faye stood up. “I will never leave my home!”
XXVII.
The days passed. Blane’s leg grew stronger.
After the night Blane and Faye talked, Faye had changed. Every morning she was up at dawn. She habitually wore pants and blouses instead of dresses. She spent the mornings cleaning and fixing up the cabin. In the afternoons, she rode the mule out to the fields and returned with fruits and vegetables. Occasionally, Blane heard her chopping wood in the yard. Despite her efforts, however, the work grew harder and the farm began to show signs of neglect.
Each night she returned to the cabin, exhausted and dirty. Recently, she had caught a cold, and Blane could hear her coughing at night.
Finally, after a time, Blane awoke one night and saw Faye sitting in the chair beside his bed. Her eyes were full of tears, and her face was pale and smudged with dirt.
In a monotone, she asked, “Did you say you knew a woman who could take us in?”
XXVIII.
Late in the morning on the fourth day of travel, the rickety wagon crested a small rise. Blane pulled in the reins and the mule ambled to a halt. In the distance, Blane and Faye could see Abilene.
Amie was sitting beside Andy in the wagon. Surrounding the two children were several, small trunks that held the few, meager possessions Faye had brought along. Tied up securely, Wade sat on the Black who was tied to the back of the wagon.
After a few moments, Blane snapped the reins and the mule plodded ahead. For Faye and her children, Abilene represented a new start in life. For Blane, the town represented the end of a long journey that had challenged his strength and his wits as a man. For Blane, as a child of God, the ordeal had tested and strengthened his faith.
THE END
Dear Subscriber,
This episode concludes the Series, entitled Faith, of The Wild West Adventures of Parson Sam Blane.
The next issue will begin the Series, entitled Hope.
Thank you for your continued support. God bless you.
--Steve
Comment on Faith (Part 8)
Each individual is responsible for his own actions. He is also responsible for his own reactions when others cause harm.
In the story, Wade murdered Faye’s husband who was the family’s sole means of support. Faye’s first reaction was the intention to seek revenge by killing Wade.
Jesus taught that we should love our enemies. Whereas our (lower) natural instinct is to pay back in kind the harm that has been done to us, God commands us instead to bless those who persecute us. Why? Because when we repay our enemies with harm, we, ourselves, perpetrate evil.
We also, therefore, incur the consequences of the sin we commit. Should someone murder my brother, for example, and I, in turn, murder the murderer, it is I who will go to jail or be executed. The law does not justify my crime regardless of the reason. Likewise, sin has no justification.
Although most of us will never face such a grievous event wherein a loved one is murdered, Christ’s commandment applies to all circumstances, great and small. When someone is rude to us, for example, how do we react? Are we rude in return? Or do we instead say a quick prayer for a blessing upon the person who has offended us? If we do the latter (or if we act in any way that conveys kindness), we act/react as an instrument of God’s love and not as a pawn of instinctive hostility.
Our reward may not come from our offender when we show kindness as our reaction to an offense. In fact, we do not show kindness to receive a reward from our offender. We show kindness for three much more important reasons.
First, Christ commanded it, and Christ’s commandments are always for our benefit. When we obey God, we show Him
we love Him. Obedience is a form of love. It demonstrates to our Father that we trust Him and that we want first to please Him, not ourselves and not others.
When we stand before Christ and give an account for all our actions, our acts of kindness will be counted in our favor.[1] God’s favor is a greater reward than any offender can offer.
Second, our loving reaction to an offense “heaps burning coals” on the head of our offender. In other words, we are to remain compassionate and loving and allow our offender to experience God’s judgment. “God is just: He will pay back trouble to those who trouble you and give relief to you who are troubled….” 2 Thessalonians 1: 6-7 (NIV). We, however, are not to revel in the thought that God will take revenge for us. Rather we are to imitate Christ when on the cross he said, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”[2]
Finally, who are we to judge others and demonstrate our condemnation by acting rudely? When we condemn others, we condemn ourselves. That is because we ourselves have committed the same sins for which we condemn others. Let us lift our minds and hearts above such petty pursuits. Let us focus instead on the glory and majesty of our Father who has seen fit to sacrifice his Son so that we might have eternal life in Paradise with our risen Lord and Savior.
Rom 12:17-21
17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody.
18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.
19 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord.20 On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head."
21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (NIV)
-----o-----
[1] Matt 12: 36-37, cf. 2 Cor 5: 9-10 (NIV)
[2] Luke 23: 34 (KJV)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 7)
XX.
Blane believed that every man has a sixth sense. Call it by whatever name, but something inside a person can warn of danger as it draws near.
As he drew nearer to Clem, Blane figured Clem’s sixth sense sooner or later would awaken him. It was crucial, therefore, to act before Clem was drawn out of his sleep. Still, Blane had not decided just how to render the two men helpless. That is, until Blane almost tripped over a piece of wood. The piece of wood was about a foot long and perhaps two inches in diameter.
Blane picked up the piece of wood. Quickly, he took one step forward and unceremoniously struck Clem over the head. As Blane hit him, he wondered if he should have hit him harder.
Clem, however, immediately slumped and began to fall backwards. In one motion, Blane caught Clem’s collar with his left hand and plucked up the Winchester with his right. All the while he kept careful watch on Wade. The man never moved.
Holding Clem’s collar, Blane quietly lowered him to the ground. As he did so, he used his right hand and arm to bring the Winchester up, trained directly on Wade.
When Clem was flat on the ground, Blane stood up. He took a few short steps to retrieve his six-shooter. Withdrawing the pistol from the holster, he quickly examined the gun. As far as he could tell, Wade had never touched it.
Wade lay on his left side, half-covered with the blanket. His right hand lay near his six-shooter which lay on the ground beside him.
Blane stepped securely on the barrel of Wade’s gun. Then he crouched down and placed the cold, hard point of his revolver on Wade’s temple. Wade flinched as he felt the metal. In a hoarse, shaking voice, he cried, “Don’t shoot!”
What Blane had not expected was that Wade’s cry stirred Clem out of unconsciousness. Clem sat up and shook his head. Seeing Blane, Clem went for his gun.
Blane shouted, “Don’t!” But Clem had untethered the thong on his holster and continued to draw his pistol in one sweeping motion. The man was surprisingly fast.
Blane aimed and fired. The bullet pierced Clem’s heart. As Clem crumpled to the ground, Blane heard the man’s final sigh.
While Blane was busy with Clem, he could feel Wade’s desperate attempts to free the gun from beneath his foot. But Blane’s weight firmly anchored the gun to the ground. Then he felt the blade of a knife slice his shin.
Blane’s reflex caused him to move his foot off of Wade’s six-shooter. But now, Wade’s right hand held the knife while his left arm was still beneath him. Wade could not grab his gun without releasing the knife.
Blane looked down to see Wade making another lunge. The knife cut him again. This time lower on the shin and deeper.
Blane brought his pistol up and took aim at Wade’s head. When he cocked the hammer, Wade shrieked, “Wait! Here’s the knife! Here it is!”
With a shaking hand, Wade tossed the knife to Blane’s side. “Just don’t shoot!”
“Turn onto your belly!”
Wade turned onto his stomach.
“Keep your legs straight. Extend your arms and hold yourself up.”
Wade did as he was told.
“If you move from that position, I will kill you.”
“You’d shoot an unarmed man?”
“As a rule, no. You’ve qualified as an exception.”
Blane kept his gun pointed at Wade, watching him carefully. Blane’s leg was bleeding profusely, but he could not think of that now. He kicked Wade’s revolver out of reach. Then he picked up a rope that had been tied to Wade’s saddle.
“Now, let yourself down and put your hands behind your back.”
When Wade complied, Blane tied Wade’s hands behind the man’s back. Then he stood him up and walked him to a wooden column. There he tied Wade up, wrapping the rope around Wade and the column from his neck down to his ankles.
“I can’t move!”
“That’s the idea.”
When Faye had heard the shot, she ran to the barn. Looking through a space in the boards, she watched until Wade was securely tied up. Then she hurried into the barn.
When she saw Blane’s pant leg soaked with blood, she gasped. “Come on. Let’s get you taken care of.”
XXI.
With a clean cloth, Faye held direct pressure on the wounds on Blane’s leg. After several minutes, she relaxed the pressure and examined the cuts. Both wounds began to bleed again. She quickly reached for a fresh cloth and applied more pressure.
“He got you good,” she said. “That bottom cut is to the bone.”
“You’re going to have pour whiskey over the cuts and sew me up.”
“It’s going to hurt real bad, Sam.”
“I know. But let’s get it over with.”
When the bleeding finally had slowed enough, Faye drew in a deep breath. Then she generously poured whiskey onto the cuts.
Every muscle in Blane’s body tensed tightly from the pain. Grimacing, he breathed quickly in and out.
With genuine concern, Faye asked, “Are you alright?”
Still grimacing, he nodded. “Yeah, now, pour whiskey over the needle and thread and sew me up. Apply some of that bark mixture onto a clean cloth. Put the wet cloth onto the wounds and then wrap my leg with a cloth that’s dry. I’m going to lie back and catch my breath.”
When Faye had completed the procedure, she asked, “How do you feel?”
Without opening his eyes, he said, “Thank you, Faye.”
XXII.
Just before dawn, Faye awoke and began to dress. She picked out a wool blouse, pants and a vest. When she sat down on the bed to pull on a pair of boots, Amie, who had slept beside her, awoke.
“Where are you going?” the little girl asked.
“I’m going to look for your father. Now, you listen to me. I want you to take care of your brother and Parson Blane until I get back. Will you do that?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“One more thing. You mustn’t go into the barn. There is a very bad man tied up in there. If you were to go into the barn he would try to trick you into setting him free. But he must stay tied up for now. Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am. I understand.”
“Good. I’ll put on a pot of coffee for Parson Blane before I leave, and I’ll fix breakfast when I get back. Don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”
She leaned over and kissed Amie on the cheek. As she did, she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. A storm was coming.
XXIII.
When Blane awoke he turned his head to see two wide eyes watching him intently.
“Well, hello, little girl.”
“Hello, Parson Blane. Do you want some coffee?”
“Coffee? Yes, that would be nice.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Blane felt a terrible soreness in his lower leg. He sat up and massaged the sides of his leg with both hands. He glanced at Andy who was watching him from the other bed.
“How you doing, son?”
“I’m doing okay. You were moaning in your sleep all night long.”
“Did I keep you awake?”
“A little. But I didn’t mind. Ma said you were hurt real bad.”
Blane straightened, sensing something was wrong. “Where is your mother?”
“She went looking for Pa.”
All of Blane’s senses were alert now. He heard rain battering the roof. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Immediately, his lower leg began to throb.
He hesitated a few moments in that position and the pain intensified. He tried to stand up but immediately he fell back into a sitting position. Finally, he swung his legs back onto the bed. He placed a couple of pillows under his leg to elevate it. The throbbing pain lessened only slightly.
Amie walked into the room, carrying the coffee pot and a cup. She set them on a small table beside the bed.
“How long has your mother been gone?”
“She left right before the rain started. She told me to take care of you and Andy until she comes back.”
“Amie, there’s a tree limb in the barn that would make a good crutch.”
Before Blane could say another word, Amie said, “Mommy told me not to go into the barn. She said there’s a man tied up in there.”
Blane nodded. Faye’s warning to Amie had been a good idea. “That’s right, Amie. Good girl.”
Blane searched his mind. There must be a way for him to get up and move around. Then he carried the logic a step further. Even if he could find a way to become mobile, he could not leave the children alone. Faye’s looking for Claude, however, made him apprehensive. Whatever she would find, Blane figured it would be far from pleasant.
XXIV.
The rain had begun to come down in sheets whipped by a strong, southwesterly wind. The sky was dark with thick, cumulus clouds ranging low over the plains. Great streaks of lightning arced across the heavens. Frequently, the angry, white fingers of electricity stabbed at the ground in the distance.
Faye felt the water-soaked wind relentlessly pelt her face and hands. Although she wore a slicker and a rain cap, her clothes beneath were already soaked and she was terribly cold. Again and again, she wiped the rain from her glasses and her eyes. Mostly, she kept her head down against the wind with her gaze focused on the ground. When she occasionally looked up, she could see only a few feet in front of her.
She sat steady on the ambling mule whose secure plodding was Faye’s only comfort. Occasionally, she cried out, “Claude!” But the storm eagerly swallowed up
the sound of her voice in the whir and the howl of a savage wind.
One by one, she checked the places where Claude would have worked the small fields. Her search, however, was erratic and she could not be sure she had covered the area thoroughly. Yet, there was nothing to shelter a person from the elements. The closest stand of trees was almost a half mile away bordering a small stream in the opposite direction of the cabin. Claude had to be here somewhere!
Again, she called his name.
She felt warm tears come to her eyes. As they streamed down her cheeks they quickly mixed with the cold rain.
She lowered her head against the rain and the wind and watched the animal’s hooves sink into the mud, one step after the other. A lonely feeling of abandonment engulfed her and she began to sob even more.
Again, she called her husband’s name, but her voice had grown hoarse and weak.
Suddenly the animal stopped. She kicked the mule with her heels. “Come on! Get up!” But the animal would not budge.
She raised her head to see what had caused the mule to stop. Startled, she cried in a low voice, “Claude?”
TO BE CONTINUED
Why Did God Allow It To Happen?
This is for you, Diane.
The other day, you asked why God would allow a spider to bite your younger daughter’s leg. You said the doctors wanted to amputate. But you demanded instead that they heal the leg. Your daughter now has lost part of the tissue from her leg and owes the hospital tens of thousands of dollars.
Tears were in your eyes when you asked why God would allow such a terrible thing to happen. My sterile reply at the time was, “I can’t speak for God.” But, now, allow me to try.
Over years of study, one principle continually stands out for me. It is to be thankful to God in all circumstances. God did not bite your daughter on the leg. A spider did that. Still, God is present in life in everything that happens. He was there when you demanded that your daughter’s leg not be amputated. He was there when your daughter’s leg was finally healed. And, he was there when his Son hung on a cross.
Regardless of what happens in our lives, we can always thank God. Why? Because you and I received the better end of the bargain. We received God’s unmerited favor (Grace) instead of what we should have received.
For our sins against God and against our fellow Man, we should receive eternal punishment in Hell. That’s what I deserve, that’s what you deserve, and that’s what your daughter deserves.
God, in his mercy, however, sent his only Son to pay the penalty for our sins. Jesus Christ became the ransom for our transgressions.
Here is what we did to the only man whoever walked the earth and did not sin. We mocked him, we spit on him, and we beat him. We put a crown of thorns on his head. In front of an angry mob, we paraded him to a place called Calvary. Then we nailed his hands and his feet to a cross. Between two criminals, we executed him, Roman style. And we yelled, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!”
But that was nothing in contrast to what God himself did to His own Son on our behalf. While Jesus hung on the cross, God took my sins and your sins and your daughter’s sins and everyone else’s sins and poured them into Christ’s body. Jesus became our sins, so much so, that God could not look upon his own Son. When Christ felt his Father turn away, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
While Jesus was suffering and dying for us, we huddled at the foot of the cross and flipped coins to see who would get his clothes. Even after his death, you and I pierced his side with a spear so that his blood poured forth.
And what did the sinless man say about his murderers? “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
Finally, after Christ had risen, one of his own disciples said, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.”
So, a week later when Jesus appeared among the disciples, he told Thomas to touch the wounds. Then Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus replied, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
So, you see, you and your daughter and I got the better end of the bargain. For that, we ought to fall on our faces, weeping, and call out praise and thankfulness to our Father...who thought it better to sacrifice his only Son than to allow us to experience the pain and suffering of eternity in Hell.
Now, God promises this: When you turn from your sins and instead trust in, and rely on, Me, through Jesus Christ, you shall have what is contained in the promise itself; that is, forgiveness for your sins, peace in your soul, and life everlasting in Paradise.
In all circumstances in life, let us remember, dear Lord, to be thankful for what we receive, instead of receiving what we deserve. In the precious name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Someone Must Pay the Price
Allow me to speak further on the subject of why God allows bad things to happen to people.
Let’s go back to the beginning when God created the first man and the first woman. The first principle to remember is that God made Adam and Eve with free will. God did not want robots that walked the earth as automatic machines. He wanted living souls with whom he could commune. He loved us then and he loves us now with a perfect, divine love that never changes.
The closest parallel we can understand is the love between a mother and her child. The mother loves the child. She is bonded to the child as no one else can be. Even when her child causes her anger and grief, the mother continues to love the child. The mother’s greatest gift from the child is when the child says from the heart, “I love you,” and then shows that love by obeying the mother’s words.
Now, the mother is much wiser than the child. The mother has lived many more years and has accumulated much more experience in life. She, therefore, is able to instruct her child in ways that will keep the child safe from harm. Should the child disobey, he puts himself in danger. But like his mother, the child is a creature with free will. He is not bound, as a robot, to obey his mother. He may, indeed, choose to act in a manner that may bring harm or even death.
After God created Adam and Eve, he gave one command: “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.”
A mother’s first desire is to keep her child safe from harm. She tells the child, “You must not run into the street.” Her unspoken words continue, “For when you run into the street, surely a car will hit and kill you.”
We all know what happened in the Garden of Eden. Tricked by the serpent, Eve ate of the forbidden fruit. Then she gave some to her husband who was with her and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked. They covered themselves with sewn fig leaves and HID FROM GOD.
Adam and Eve had disobeyed God. It was the first sin. It was the Fall of Man. Man’s heart had been corrupted by a free will decision to disobey God. And Man’s impulse, ever since, has been to HIDE FROM GOD.
Hiding from a right relationship with God, however, causes extreme torment for the individual’s soul, which was created to commune with God. Only when the corrupt heart of the individual is converted by means of God’s grace through faith in Jesus Christ[1] will the individual find lasting peace.
At the time of the Fall, what was God to do? His human creations had invoked upon themselves the curse of death; that is, they had nullified their original state of eternal life. They had also lost their state of innocence. They now knew both good and evil. And at Satan’s prompting, they had chosen evil.
Adam and Eve had effectively changed their own nature. They, in effect, had become children of the devil, rather than children of God. Not only that, but all the offspring for all generations to come would be the product of the corrupt seed. They would have the same depraved nature. Everyone would be, and is, born into a state of condemnation (inherited sin). [That’s also why Jesus, the Messiah, in order to be perfectly sinless had to be born of a virgin.]
So, again, what was God to do? His heart was broken. Just as a mother would grieve for her child who had run into the street and was killed, God grieved to no end over the loss of the loving relationship he had had with Man. Perhaps, he, indeed, should have created robots instead of living souls with free will. But that would have defeated the whole purpose! How satisfying is it to hear a robot say, “I love you”?
In his agonizing grief, God saw that the earth was filled with wicked people whose every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually.[2]
Just as a judge cannot erase the penalty for murder committed by one person against another, God’s righteousness cannot allow him to erase the penalty for Man’s sin.
Someone must pay the price.
But no man on earth could have served as a satisfactory sacrifice, because all had sinned and come short of the glory of God. One sinful person cannot be sacrificed for another sinful person. No, what was required was someone who had no sin at all. A spotless lamb had to be sent to the slaughter in order for the offering to accomplish its end.
And in raising his head from looking upon the earth, which was filled with Man’s wickedness, God’s gaze mournfully came to rest on his precious, only, sinless Son.
Every individual is born with inherited sin and is, therefore, condemned from birth to eternity in Hell. Additionally, the sins we commit during our lives exceed the number of grains of sand on all the beaches in the world. There, however, is one, and only one, way out: Jesus Christ.
John 3:18
18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son.(NIV)
Acts 4:12
12 “…Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved."
(NIV)
Ever since Adam and Eve misused their God-given free will, Man has lived in a world of good and evil. Of Adam’s first two offspring, Cain and Abel, one murdered the other. This is the world we live in.
During one occasion, God had become so angry that he decided to end the entire human race. Only one man found favor with God. So, God sent a flood that killed everyone and everything that breathed, except for Noah and his family. This also surely broke God’s heart. Afterward, he said he would never send such a flood again.
But even on the arc, sin showed itself in one of Noah’s sons.[3]
Now, the question: Why does God allow us to continue to live in this world where the lusts of the flesh and the interests of the self and the guiles of the devil seem to reign supreme?
First, let’s recognize what this life is. In a sense this life is not life at all; that is, it is not true life. True life is what comes after we depart this world.
This world and this life combine to establish the PRELUDE to true life. During this prelude to true life, there are two kinds of people: those who are saved and those who are lost. For a long time, I was among the lost. Now, I’m among the saved. Had I died or had the world come to an end while I was lost in this life, I would have remained lost for eternity.
True life, the way God intended it from the beginning, has no end. There is no death, no disease, no suffering, no strife, and no harmful spiders that bite and cause sickness. All creatures live at peace with one another.
Life in the current world, however, is fraught with evil, danger, disease, and spiders that cause sickness. That is because this world has been utterly corrupted by sin. Everyone and everything in this world lives under the curse brought on by Man’s disobedience to God.
Is it a stretch to say that a person’s sickness due to a spider bite is ultimately due to Man’s sin? Absolutely not! Sin produces consequences, whether the effects manifest as weeds in a wheat patch, sickness from a spider bite, or eternity in Hell.
But then, God is supposed to be a good God. Why would he allow a precious daughter to be harmed so severely? The answer is God allows the world to operate as it does because he IS good. He is long-suffering; that is, he is patient. He will allow the condemned and the saved to live side by side until the world, as we know it, ends. Then he will sift the weeds from the wheat. Should he do it early, he would cut off those who would be saved. Thus, he will first ensure the Gospel has been preached to the ends of the earth. Then when all the other events which must take place have occurred he will come again as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Still, God is present everywhere. He was with the precious daughter when the spider bit her. I dare say that, because God is merciful, he mitigated the circumstances of the daughter’s affliction. I believe that, left without God, the daughter would have lost her leg or possibly died.
So then, what is our lesson? First, we must repent of our sins, surrender to Christ, and become one of his own. The primary job of the lost is to get saved. The primary job of the saved is to spread the Gospel so those who are lost receive the means by which they must be saved. Salvation comes by God’s grace through faith in Jesus Christ. So, how does one gain, and/or strengthen his, faith?
Rom 10:17
17 So faith comes by hearing [what is told], and what is heard comes by the preaching [of the message that came from the lips] of Christ (the Messiah Himself). (Amplified Bible)
The word of Christ is the Gospel; that is, the good news that Christ has taken away the sins of the world. Through his sacrifice, salvation is bestowed upon everyone who believes that this truth applies to himself personally. The world will pass away. But the Word of the Lord will never pass away. Read all about it in God’s personal revelation of himself in the Holy Bible. The Word as contained in the Bible, in itself, has the power to save. Simply take it to heart.
The only remaining question is whether or not one uses everything that happens in life to strengthen his faith. Does he use the good times and the calamities to draw nearer to our loving Lord? Happiness is not about getting what one wants in life; it is about being happy with what one has and what one gets. But there is something that transcends happiness. It is the lasting joy of knowing Christ.
With Christ as my Lord and Savior, I can endure absolutely anything. The worst life can do to me is kill me. And then all my troubles are over forever…for on that day, I will meet my loving Lord face to face. Until then, I will offer up into God’s hands whatever suffering I may experience. And I will always remember that whatever troubles I experience in this life are nothing in contrast to what my personal Lord and Savior sacrificed for me.
No, the troubles of this life can touch me no more. For I am a living, loving child of Almighty God through the completed work of Jesus Christ.
Christ has won the victory for me!
Thank you gracious Father through Jesus Christ. I will glorify you forever. Amen.
[1] Genesis 9: 20-27
[2] Genesis 6: 5
[3] The individual’s heart must be reborn through faith in Jesus Christ because only Christ paid the penalty for the individual’s sins.
Blane believed that every man has a sixth sense. Call it by whatever name, but something inside a person can warn of danger as it draws near.
As he drew nearer to Clem, Blane figured Clem’s sixth sense sooner or later would awaken him. It was crucial, therefore, to act before Clem was drawn out of his sleep. Still, Blane had not decided just how to render the two men helpless. That is, until Blane almost tripped over a piece of wood. The piece of wood was about a foot long and perhaps two inches in diameter.
Blane picked up the piece of wood. Quickly, he took one step forward and unceremoniously struck Clem over the head. As Blane hit him, he wondered if he should have hit him harder.
Clem, however, immediately slumped and began to fall backwards. In one motion, Blane caught Clem’s collar with his left hand and plucked up the Winchester with his right. All the while he kept careful watch on Wade. The man never moved.
Holding Clem’s collar, Blane quietly lowered him to the ground. As he did so, he used his right hand and arm to bring the Winchester up, trained directly on Wade.
When Clem was flat on the ground, Blane stood up. He took a few short steps to retrieve his six-shooter. Withdrawing the pistol from the holster, he quickly examined the gun. As far as he could tell, Wade had never touched it.
Wade lay on his left side, half-covered with the blanket. His right hand lay near his six-shooter which lay on the ground beside him.
Blane stepped securely on the barrel of Wade’s gun. Then he crouched down and placed the cold, hard point of his revolver on Wade’s temple. Wade flinched as he felt the metal. In a hoarse, shaking voice, he cried, “Don’t shoot!”
What Blane had not expected was that Wade’s cry stirred Clem out of unconsciousness. Clem sat up and shook his head. Seeing Blane, Clem went for his gun.
Blane shouted, “Don’t!” But Clem had untethered the thong on his holster and continued to draw his pistol in one sweeping motion. The man was surprisingly fast.
Blane aimed and fired. The bullet pierced Clem’s heart. As Clem crumpled to the ground, Blane heard the man’s final sigh.
While Blane was busy with Clem, he could feel Wade’s desperate attempts to free the gun from beneath his foot. But Blane’s weight firmly anchored the gun to the ground. Then he felt the blade of a knife slice his shin.
Blane’s reflex caused him to move his foot off of Wade’s six-shooter. But now, Wade’s right hand held the knife while his left arm was still beneath him. Wade could not grab his gun without releasing the knife.
Blane looked down to see Wade making another lunge. The knife cut him again. This time lower on the shin and deeper.
Blane brought his pistol up and took aim at Wade’s head. When he cocked the hammer, Wade shrieked, “Wait! Here’s the knife! Here it is!”
With a shaking hand, Wade tossed the knife to Blane’s side. “Just don’t shoot!”
“Turn onto your belly!”
Wade turned onto his stomach.
“Keep your legs straight. Extend your arms and hold yourself up.”
Wade did as he was told.
“If you move from that position, I will kill you.”
“You’d shoot an unarmed man?”
“As a rule, no. You’ve qualified as an exception.”
Blane kept his gun pointed at Wade, watching him carefully. Blane’s leg was bleeding profusely, but he could not think of that now. He kicked Wade’s revolver out of reach. Then he picked up a rope that had been tied to Wade’s saddle.
“Now, let yourself down and put your hands behind your back.”
When Wade complied, Blane tied Wade’s hands behind the man’s back. Then he stood him up and walked him to a wooden column. There he tied Wade up, wrapping the rope around Wade and the column from his neck down to his ankles.
“I can’t move!”
“That’s the idea.”
When Faye had heard the shot, she ran to the barn. Looking through a space in the boards, she watched until Wade was securely tied up. Then she hurried into the barn.
When she saw Blane’s pant leg soaked with blood, she gasped. “Come on. Let’s get you taken care of.”
XXI.
With a clean cloth, Faye held direct pressure on the wounds on Blane’s leg. After several minutes, she relaxed the pressure and examined the cuts. Both wounds began to bleed again. She quickly reached for a fresh cloth and applied more pressure.
“He got you good,” she said. “That bottom cut is to the bone.”
“You’re going to have pour whiskey over the cuts and sew me up.”
“It’s going to hurt real bad, Sam.”
“I know. But let’s get it over with.”
When the bleeding finally had slowed enough, Faye drew in a deep breath. Then she generously poured whiskey onto the cuts.
Every muscle in Blane’s body tensed tightly from the pain. Grimacing, he breathed quickly in and out.
With genuine concern, Faye asked, “Are you alright?”
Still grimacing, he nodded. “Yeah, now, pour whiskey over the needle and thread and sew me up. Apply some of that bark mixture onto a clean cloth. Put the wet cloth onto the wounds and then wrap my leg with a cloth that’s dry. I’m going to lie back and catch my breath.”
When Faye had completed the procedure, she asked, “How do you feel?”
Without opening his eyes, he said, “Thank you, Faye.”
XXII.
Just before dawn, Faye awoke and began to dress. She picked out a wool blouse, pants and a vest. When she sat down on the bed to pull on a pair of boots, Amie, who had slept beside her, awoke.
“Where are you going?” the little girl asked.
“I’m going to look for your father. Now, you listen to me. I want you to take care of your brother and Parson Blane until I get back. Will you do that?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“One more thing. You mustn’t go into the barn. There is a very bad man tied up in there. If you were to go into the barn he would try to trick you into setting him free. But he must stay tied up for now. Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am. I understand.”
“Good. I’ll put on a pot of coffee for Parson Blane before I leave, and I’ll fix breakfast when I get back. Don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”
She leaned over and kissed Amie on the cheek. As she did, she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. A storm was coming.
XXIII.
When Blane awoke he turned his head to see two wide eyes watching him intently.
“Well, hello, little girl.”
“Hello, Parson Blane. Do you want some coffee?”
“Coffee? Yes, that would be nice.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Blane felt a terrible soreness in his lower leg. He sat up and massaged the sides of his leg with both hands. He glanced at Andy who was watching him from the other bed.
“How you doing, son?”
“I’m doing okay. You were moaning in your sleep all night long.”
“Did I keep you awake?”
“A little. But I didn’t mind. Ma said you were hurt real bad.”
Blane straightened, sensing something was wrong. “Where is your mother?”
“She went looking for Pa.”
All of Blane’s senses were alert now. He heard rain battering the roof. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Immediately, his lower leg began to throb.
He hesitated a few moments in that position and the pain intensified. He tried to stand up but immediately he fell back into a sitting position. Finally, he swung his legs back onto the bed. He placed a couple of pillows under his leg to elevate it. The throbbing pain lessened only slightly.
Amie walked into the room, carrying the coffee pot and a cup. She set them on a small table beside the bed.
“How long has your mother been gone?”
“She left right before the rain started. She told me to take care of you and Andy until she comes back.”
“Amie, there’s a tree limb in the barn that would make a good crutch.”
Before Blane could say another word, Amie said, “Mommy told me not to go into the barn. She said there’s a man tied up in there.”
Blane nodded. Faye’s warning to Amie had been a good idea. “That’s right, Amie. Good girl.”
Blane searched his mind. There must be a way for him to get up and move around. Then he carried the logic a step further. Even if he could find a way to become mobile, he could not leave the children alone. Faye’s looking for Claude, however, made him apprehensive. Whatever she would find, Blane figured it would be far from pleasant.
XXIV.
The rain had begun to come down in sheets whipped by a strong, southwesterly wind. The sky was dark with thick, cumulus clouds ranging low over the plains. Great streaks of lightning arced across the heavens. Frequently, the angry, white fingers of electricity stabbed at the ground in the distance.
Faye felt the water-soaked wind relentlessly pelt her face and hands. Although she wore a slicker and a rain cap, her clothes beneath were already soaked and she was terribly cold. Again and again, she wiped the rain from her glasses and her eyes. Mostly, she kept her head down against the wind with her gaze focused on the ground. When she occasionally looked up, she could see only a few feet in front of her.
She sat steady on the ambling mule whose secure plodding was Faye’s only comfort. Occasionally, she cried out, “Claude!” But the storm eagerly swallowed up
the sound of her voice in the whir and the howl of a savage wind.
One by one, she checked the places where Claude would have worked the small fields. Her search, however, was erratic and she could not be sure she had covered the area thoroughly. Yet, there was nothing to shelter a person from the elements. The closest stand of trees was almost a half mile away bordering a small stream in the opposite direction of the cabin. Claude had to be here somewhere!
Again, she called his name.
She felt warm tears come to her eyes. As they streamed down her cheeks they quickly mixed with the cold rain.
She lowered her head against the rain and the wind and watched the animal’s hooves sink into the mud, one step after the other. A lonely feeling of abandonment engulfed her and she began to sob even more.
Again, she called her husband’s name, but her voice had grown hoarse and weak.
Suddenly the animal stopped. She kicked the mule with her heels. “Come on! Get up!” But the animal would not budge.
She raised her head to see what had caused the mule to stop. Startled, she cried in a low voice, “Claude?”
TO BE CONTINUED
Why Did God Allow It To Happen?
This is for you, Diane.
The other day, you asked why God would allow a spider to bite your younger daughter’s leg. You said the doctors wanted to amputate. But you demanded instead that they heal the leg. Your daughter now has lost part of the tissue from her leg and owes the hospital tens of thousands of dollars.
Tears were in your eyes when you asked why God would allow such a terrible thing to happen. My sterile reply at the time was, “I can’t speak for God.” But, now, allow me to try.
Over years of study, one principle continually stands out for me. It is to be thankful to God in all circumstances. God did not bite your daughter on the leg. A spider did that. Still, God is present in life in everything that happens. He was there when you demanded that your daughter’s leg not be amputated. He was there when your daughter’s leg was finally healed. And, he was there when his Son hung on a cross.
Regardless of what happens in our lives, we can always thank God. Why? Because you and I received the better end of the bargain. We received God’s unmerited favor (Grace) instead of what we should have received.
For our sins against God and against our fellow Man, we should receive eternal punishment in Hell. That’s what I deserve, that’s what you deserve, and that’s what your daughter deserves.
God, in his mercy, however, sent his only Son to pay the penalty for our sins. Jesus Christ became the ransom for our transgressions.
Here is what we did to the only man whoever walked the earth and did not sin. We mocked him, we spit on him, and we beat him. We put a crown of thorns on his head. In front of an angry mob, we paraded him to a place called Calvary. Then we nailed his hands and his feet to a cross. Between two criminals, we executed him, Roman style. And we yelled, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross!”
But that was nothing in contrast to what God himself did to His own Son on our behalf. While Jesus hung on the cross, God took my sins and your sins and your daughter’s sins and everyone else’s sins and poured them into Christ’s body. Jesus became our sins, so much so, that God could not look upon his own Son. When Christ felt his Father turn away, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
While Jesus was suffering and dying for us, we huddled at the foot of the cross and flipped coins to see who would get his clothes. Even after his death, you and I pierced his side with a spear so that his blood poured forth.
And what did the sinless man say about his murderers? “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
Finally, after Christ had risen, one of his own disciples said, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.”
So, a week later when Jesus appeared among the disciples, he told Thomas to touch the wounds. Then Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus replied, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
So, you see, you and your daughter and I got the better end of the bargain. For that, we ought to fall on our faces, weeping, and call out praise and thankfulness to our Father...who thought it better to sacrifice his only Son than to allow us to experience the pain and suffering of eternity in Hell.
Now, God promises this: When you turn from your sins and instead trust in, and rely on, Me, through Jesus Christ, you shall have what is contained in the promise itself; that is, forgiveness for your sins, peace in your soul, and life everlasting in Paradise.
In all circumstances in life, let us remember, dear Lord, to be thankful for what we receive, instead of receiving what we deserve. In the precious name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Someone Must Pay the Price
Allow me to speak further on the subject of why God allows bad things to happen to people.
Let’s go back to the beginning when God created the first man and the first woman. The first principle to remember is that God made Adam and Eve with free will. God did not want robots that walked the earth as automatic machines. He wanted living souls with whom he could commune. He loved us then and he loves us now with a perfect, divine love that never changes.
The closest parallel we can understand is the love between a mother and her child. The mother loves the child. She is bonded to the child as no one else can be. Even when her child causes her anger and grief, the mother continues to love the child. The mother’s greatest gift from the child is when the child says from the heart, “I love you,” and then shows that love by obeying the mother’s words.
Now, the mother is much wiser than the child. The mother has lived many more years and has accumulated much more experience in life. She, therefore, is able to instruct her child in ways that will keep the child safe from harm. Should the child disobey, he puts himself in danger. But like his mother, the child is a creature with free will. He is not bound, as a robot, to obey his mother. He may, indeed, choose to act in a manner that may bring harm or even death.
After God created Adam and Eve, he gave one command: “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.”
A mother’s first desire is to keep her child safe from harm. She tells the child, “You must not run into the street.” Her unspoken words continue, “For when you run into the street, surely a car will hit and kill you.”
We all know what happened in the Garden of Eden. Tricked by the serpent, Eve ate of the forbidden fruit. Then she gave some to her husband who was with her and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked. They covered themselves with sewn fig leaves and HID FROM GOD.
Adam and Eve had disobeyed God. It was the first sin. It was the Fall of Man. Man’s heart had been corrupted by a free will decision to disobey God. And Man’s impulse, ever since, has been to HIDE FROM GOD.
Hiding from a right relationship with God, however, causes extreme torment for the individual’s soul, which was created to commune with God. Only when the corrupt heart of the individual is converted by means of God’s grace through faith in Jesus Christ[1] will the individual find lasting peace.
At the time of the Fall, what was God to do? His human creations had invoked upon themselves the curse of death; that is, they had nullified their original state of eternal life. They had also lost their state of innocence. They now knew both good and evil. And at Satan’s prompting, they had chosen evil.
Adam and Eve had effectively changed their own nature. They, in effect, had become children of the devil, rather than children of God. Not only that, but all the offspring for all generations to come would be the product of the corrupt seed. They would have the same depraved nature. Everyone would be, and is, born into a state of condemnation (inherited sin). [That’s also why Jesus, the Messiah, in order to be perfectly sinless had to be born of a virgin.]
So, again, what was God to do? His heart was broken. Just as a mother would grieve for her child who had run into the street and was killed, God grieved to no end over the loss of the loving relationship he had had with Man. Perhaps, he, indeed, should have created robots instead of living souls with free will. But that would have defeated the whole purpose! How satisfying is it to hear a robot say, “I love you”?
In his agonizing grief, God saw that the earth was filled with wicked people whose every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually.[2]
Just as a judge cannot erase the penalty for murder committed by one person against another, God’s righteousness cannot allow him to erase the penalty for Man’s sin.
Someone must pay the price.
But no man on earth could have served as a satisfactory sacrifice, because all had sinned and come short of the glory of God. One sinful person cannot be sacrificed for another sinful person. No, what was required was someone who had no sin at all. A spotless lamb had to be sent to the slaughter in order for the offering to accomplish its end.
And in raising his head from looking upon the earth, which was filled with Man’s wickedness, God’s gaze mournfully came to rest on his precious, only, sinless Son.
Every individual is born with inherited sin and is, therefore, condemned from birth to eternity in Hell. Additionally, the sins we commit during our lives exceed the number of grains of sand on all the beaches in the world. There, however, is one, and only one, way out: Jesus Christ.
John 3:18
18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son.(NIV)
Acts 4:12
12 “…Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved."
(NIV)
Ever since Adam and Eve misused their God-given free will, Man has lived in a world of good and evil. Of Adam’s first two offspring, Cain and Abel, one murdered the other. This is the world we live in.
During one occasion, God had become so angry that he decided to end the entire human race. Only one man found favor with God. So, God sent a flood that killed everyone and everything that breathed, except for Noah and his family. This also surely broke God’s heart. Afterward, he said he would never send such a flood again.
But even on the arc, sin showed itself in one of Noah’s sons.[3]
Now, the question: Why does God allow us to continue to live in this world where the lusts of the flesh and the interests of the self and the guiles of the devil seem to reign supreme?
First, let’s recognize what this life is. In a sense this life is not life at all; that is, it is not true life. True life is what comes after we depart this world.
This world and this life combine to establish the PRELUDE to true life. During this prelude to true life, there are two kinds of people: those who are saved and those who are lost. For a long time, I was among the lost. Now, I’m among the saved. Had I died or had the world come to an end while I was lost in this life, I would have remained lost for eternity.
True life, the way God intended it from the beginning, has no end. There is no death, no disease, no suffering, no strife, and no harmful spiders that bite and cause sickness. All creatures live at peace with one another.
Life in the current world, however, is fraught with evil, danger, disease, and spiders that cause sickness. That is because this world has been utterly corrupted by sin. Everyone and everything in this world lives under the curse brought on by Man’s disobedience to God.
Is it a stretch to say that a person’s sickness due to a spider bite is ultimately due to Man’s sin? Absolutely not! Sin produces consequences, whether the effects manifest as weeds in a wheat patch, sickness from a spider bite, or eternity in Hell.
But then, God is supposed to be a good God. Why would he allow a precious daughter to be harmed so severely? The answer is God allows the world to operate as it does because he IS good. He is long-suffering; that is, he is patient. He will allow the condemned and the saved to live side by side until the world, as we know it, ends. Then he will sift the weeds from the wheat. Should he do it early, he would cut off those who would be saved. Thus, he will first ensure the Gospel has been preached to the ends of the earth. Then when all the other events which must take place have occurred he will come again as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Still, God is present everywhere. He was with the precious daughter when the spider bit her. I dare say that, because God is merciful, he mitigated the circumstances of the daughter’s affliction. I believe that, left without God, the daughter would have lost her leg or possibly died.
So then, what is our lesson? First, we must repent of our sins, surrender to Christ, and become one of his own. The primary job of the lost is to get saved. The primary job of the saved is to spread the Gospel so those who are lost receive the means by which they must be saved. Salvation comes by God’s grace through faith in Jesus Christ. So, how does one gain, and/or strengthen his, faith?
Rom 10:17
17 So faith comes by hearing [what is told], and what is heard comes by the preaching [of the message that came from the lips] of Christ (the Messiah Himself). (Amplified Bible)
The word of Christ is the Gospel; that is, the good news that Christ has taken away the sins of the world. Through his sacrifice, salvation is bestowed upon everyone who believes that this truth applies to himself personally. The world will pass away. But the Word of the Lord will never pass away. Read all about it in God’s personal revelation of himself in the Holy Bible. The Word as contained in the Bible, in itself, has the power to save. Simply take it to heart.
The only remaining question is whether or not one uses everything that happens in life to strengthen his faith. Does he use the good times and the calamities to draw nearer to our loving Lord? Happiness is not about getting what one wants in life; it is about being happy with what one has and what one gets. But there is something that transcends happiness. It is the lasting joy of knowing Christ.
With Christ as my Lord and Savior, I can endure absolutely anything. The worst life can do to me is kill me. And then all my troubles are over forever…for on that day, I will meet my loving Lord face to face. Until then, I will offer up into God’s hands whatever suffering I may experience. And I will always remember that whatever troubles I experience in this life are nothing in contrast to what my personal Lord and Savior sacrificed for me.
No, the troubles of this life can touch me no more. For I am a living, loving child of Almighty God through the completed work of Jesus Christ.
Christ has won the victory for me!
Thank you gracious Father through Jesus Christ. I will glorify you forever. Amen.
[1] Genesis 9: 20-27
[2] Genesis 6: 5
[3] The individual’s heart must be reborn through faith in Jesus Christ because only Christ paid the penalty for the individual’s sins.
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 6)
XVII.
Sitting at the table with Faye, a feeling of helplessness came over Blane. As he began to regret his mistakes in the current situation, he interrupted his thoughts. He already knew what his “little mind” was about to do.
Should he let it, what he called his “little mind” would convict him with a mountain of doubt. It would suggest he should have lied to Wade and Clem about Andy’s condition. He should have said the boy had smallpox. The lie probably would have scared the two men into leaving the farm immediately.
His “little mind” would assert he should have taken a firmer stand when the two strangers first appeared. Such action would have at least caused them to declare their intentions. Finally, he should have actually lobbed boiling water onto the men and made the dash for his gun when he had had the chance.
As a mature Christian, however, Blane would have none of the nonsense his “little mind” would have him believe. Instead, he would turn to his heavenly Father in prayer.
He glanced at the woman sitting beside him. “Faye, will you pray with me?”
“Pray?”
“Yes.”
“I told you, Sam. I don’t believe the way you do. I’m too worried right now for any of that.”
For a moment he studied the woman. Although she was relatively young and attractive, she looked haggard. “Alright, Faye, I won’t preach you a sermon about it.”
She turned her head and gazed into his eyes. For a fleeting moment, she felt as though she were missing something. She watched him close his eyes and bow his head.
Blane calmed his mind, erasing all doubt. Then he fervently prayed. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and raised his head. He glanced at Faye who appeared bored with the silent interlude. He smiled at her faintly. Then he stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere yet.”
“How can you stand by and do nothing? I thought I knew you. Right now, I don’t know if I understand you at all!”
“That’s okay, Faye. I’m not the one you should be trying to understand anyway.”
Faye turned her head and glared at him. “I thought you weren’t going to preach me a sermon.”
“You’re right, Faye. How about some coffee instead.”
“Coffee? There’s still some in the pot. Help yourself. I’m worried about Claude. He should have been home by now.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
“Sam, go look for him.”
“I can’t leave you and the children here alone with those two out in the barn.”
“If they try something, what are you going to do?”
“If I leave you here alone and they try something, what are you going to do?”
“We can’t stay here and do nothing! Wonder if Claude is hurt and needs help. That’s what happened to Andy. I’m worried, Sam.”
“I understand you’re worried. But let me ask you to be patient. Let’s not jump out of the frying pan into the fire.” He picked up two cups and the coffee pot. “I’m going out to the barn.”
“What are you going to do, offer them coffee?”
“Precisely.”
XVIII.
As Blane approached the barn, he looked for a gap in the boards. Perhaps he could peek inside to see what the two men were doing. Finding such a gap near the barn door,
he stopped for a moment and peered inside. The relative darkness inside the barn prevented him from seeing anything clearly. Listening, he heard the men talking, but he could only make out a few words now and then.
He decided not to knock and opened the door.
When the two heard the creak of the barn door, they looked up. Wade had a scowl on his face.
“Thought you might like some coffee.”
Wade’s frown instantly disappeared. “Well, that’s right nice of you, Preacher.”
Blane handed the men the cups. Then he knelt down to where the two were seated on a bed of straw and poured the coffee. “Faye said you were cleaning my gun. I appreciate that. Mind if I take it now?”
“Uh, I haven’t had a chance to clean it yet.”
“That’s okay, Wade. It’s already clean. I’ll just take it now.”
“No, Preacher, I’m afraid not.”
Blane had begun to reach for his gun belt which sat between Wade and Clem. When he heard Wade’s remark, he withdrew his hand. “Why not?”
“Let’s just say I feel better keeping your gun.”
Blane tightened his jaw and looked Wade in the eyes. “Okay, what do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s get this out in the open. Do you intend to harm us?”
“If you behave yourselves, me and Clem won’t hurt ya.”
Blane figured that was a lie. “What do you want?”
“We’re gonna hole up here a while.”
“For how long?”
“I haven’t figgered that out yet.”
“Are we talking another day or a month?”
“Like I said, Preacher, I haven’t figgered that out yet.”
“Well, you can’t stay here.”
“Why not? Seems to me you’re in no position to start telling us what to do.”
“Look, Wade, I’m asking you nicely. Get on your horses and ride out of here right now.”
Wade frowned. “Preacher, you’re startin’ to git on my nerves. How would you like a bullet in your gut?”
“You’d shoot a man in cold blood?”
“I’d shoot you or carve you up with my bowie. Either way, I won’t hesitate. Now, git out of here!”
Blane stood and turned to walk out.
“One more thing, Preacher. Boil some more water. I’m gonna take a bath in that washtub out back. After that, Clem’s gonna take a bath.”
Clem flinched. “I ain’t taking no bath!”
“You stink to high heaven. You’re taking a bath!”
Blane turned, “Okay, I’ll bring your water.”
XIX.
During the day, Blane could not see inside the barn. Under cover of darkness, however, the situation had reversed. Through the space in the boards, Blane could clearly see the two men by the dim light of the overhead lantern. Now and then, he could make out a few words.
Clem said, “We got to get rid of that preacher! I haven’t seen a fine-looking woman like that Faye in a long time.”
“Yeah,” Wade replied, “that preacher gits under my skin. Now, you keep awake, hear? Git me up halfway through the night and I’ll take over watch.”
Clem nodded as Wade turned over and pulled up his blanket.
Clem sat with his legs crossed, staring off into space. After a few minutes, he stood the Winchester upright between his legs. Then he wrapped both hands around the barrel. Finally, he rested his cheek on his hands.
Blane turned his back to the wall and slid down into a sitting position. Now, all he had to do was wait. He had not eaten supper so he would not tend to fall asleep. The
two inside the barn, on the other hand, had stuffed themselves. Blane figured he would not have to wait long.
After about an hour, he peered through the space in the boards. Clem was in the same, cross-legged position. His eyes were shut and his breathing was deep and even. Wade had not stirred.
Blane knew all along that the problem would be entering the barn without disturbing the men. The barn door squeaked horribly every time someone opened it. Blane had never opened the back door, but if he could do so quietly, he could sneak up behind Clem. Stealthily, he made his way to the back of the barn.
Near the back door, Blane found a space between the boards wide enough to peer through. Clem had not moved and his eyes were still closed. Ever so carefully, Blane stepped to the door and released the latch. Inch by inch, he opened the door. As careful as he was, however, the door creaked again and again. But Blane would allow it to creak only once, after which he waited a full minute or two. As he waited, he listened intently for any movement inside.
After what seemed like an eternity, he had opened the door enough to turn sideways and squeeze through. He stood erect and let his arms hang at his sides. Quietly, he shook his arms and moved his head and shoulders, limbering up his muscles. He also allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Clem had not moved. Wade was still lying quietly.
Cautiously, he took the first step, of perhaps twenty, toward Clem. His first thought was to pick up his own gun belt. But that would mean he would have to walk between Clem and the lantern. Blane figured a shadow across Clem’s eyelids would wake him. Blane’s next idea was to approach Clem from directly behind and draw the pistol from Clem’s holster. He altered his course with the next couple of steps to approach Clem from the rear.
As Blane rehearsed what he planned to do, a disturbing thought occurred. Many men wore guns with a thong on the holster holding the gun in place. Blane’s holster had just such a thong. If Clem’s holster had a thong and it was strapped over the hammer of his pistol, Blane would not be able to pull Clem’s pistol from the holster.
From this distance, he could not tell whether or not Clem’s holster had a thong. Furthermore, he could not remember whether or not he had seen a thong when he had sized up the man earlier in the day.
Additionally, Blane had to decide what to do once he had surprised Clem and had taken his gun. Blane’s instinct, of course, was not to shoot, but the situation might demand it. Certainly, Wade would awaken. Rather than surrender, he would react violently. Blane would be forced to kill Wade in such a circumstance. Clem, he figured, would present less of a problem since Blane had already taken the rifle away.
Still, anything could happen.
He took a step closer.
Within five steps of Clem, Blane’s heart sank. Clearly, Clem’s holster had a thong and it was tightly strapped over his pistol. That left the Winchester. But Clem had his hands locked around the barrel with his head resting on his hands. Blane would have a hard time prying the rifle from Clem’s hands. The man would certainly wake up and tighten his grip. It was possible Blane might not be able to get the rifle away from Clem at all!
Blane took another step. In doing so, he felt his nerves begin to jitter. He was too close to run away and too far away to fight. And still, he had not decided on the best course of action.
If either man woke up now, all would be lost. Blane must make his move now. He took another step. He was close. Very, very close.
TO BE CONTINUED
Comment on Faith (Part 6)
Our walk through this world is one we must tread alone. Although we have relationships with family and friends who may guide us (or criticize us), we are accountable for our own decisions. Decisions we make today, either wise or foolish, strongly influence our circumstances tomorrow.
Part of human nature is to second guess our decisions. We tend to characterize some decisions as mistakes and imagine what current circumstances would be like had we decided differently.
We may recognize that regret and worry add only sorrow to our lives. Learning by one’s mistakes is wise. Regretting past decisions and worrying about future circumstances, on the other hand, are pointless torments and inevitably produce their emotional equivalent: feelings of worthlessness.
As we become quick to recognize when our mind is beginning to regret or worry, we can interrupt our thoughts with something beneficial. One of the best cures for regret and worry is prayer.
Whereas regret focuses on the past and worry focuses on the future, prayer operates in the present. When we pray, we can ask for and receive forgiveness for our past mistakes. We can ask God to guide us in the present and watch out for us in the future. Assured of our worth as a child of Almighty God, we need not condemn ourselves.
How much does God value us? He loved us so much that he sent his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross for us. Jesus saw us in our sinful condition and said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”[1]
Blane had learned the lesson. He replaced his regrets with prayer.
[1] Matthew 11:29; cf. Matthew 11:28-30; Luke 12:22-31
Sitting at the table with Faye, a feeling of helplessness came over Blane. As he began to regret his mistakes in the current situation, he interrupted his thoughts. He already knew what his “little mind” was about to do.
Should he let it, what he called his “little mind” would convict him with a mountain of doubt. It would suggest he should have lied to Wade and Clem about Andy’s condition. He should have said the boy had smallpox. The lie probably would have scared the two men into leaving the farm immediately.
His “little mind” would assert he should have taken a firmer stand when the two strangers first appeared. Such action would have at least caused them to declare their intentions. Finally, he should have actually lobbed boiling water onto the men and made the dash for his gun when he had had the chance.
As a mature Christian, however, Blane would have none of the nonsense his “little mind” would have him believe. Instead, he would turn to his heavenly Father in prayer.
He glanced at the woman sitting beside him. “Faye, will you pray with me?”
“Pray?”
“Yes.”
“I told you, Sam. I don’t believe the way you do. I’m too worried right now for any of that.”
For a moment he studied the woman. Although she was relatively young and attractive, she looked haggard. “Alright, Faye, I won’t preach you a sermon about it.”
She turned her head and gazed into his eyes. For a fleeting moment, she felt as though she were missing something. She watched him close his eyes and bow his head.
Blane calmed his mind, erasing all doubt. Then he fervently prayed. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and raised his head. He glanced at Faye who appeared bored with the silent interlude. He smiled at her faintly. Then he stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere yet.”
“How can you stand by and do nothing? I thought I knew you. Right now, I don’t know if I understand you at all!”
“That’s okay, Faye. I’m not the one you should be trying to understand anyway.”
Faye turned her head and glared at him. “I thought you weren’t going to preach me a sermon.”
“You’re right, Faye. How about some coffee instead.”
“Coffee? There’s still some in the pot. Help yourself. I’m worried about Claude. He should have been home by now.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
“Sam, go look for him.”
“I can’t leave you and the children here alone with those two out in the barn.”
“If they try something, what are you going to do?”
“If I leave you here alone and they try something, what are you going to do?”
“We can’t stay here and do nothing! Wonder if Claude is hurt and needs help. That’s what happened to Andy. I’m worried, Sam.”
“I understand you’re worried. But let me ask you to be patient. Let’s not jump out of the frying pan into the fire.” He picked up two cups and the coffee pot. “I’m going out to the barn.”
“What are you going to do, offer them coffee?”
“Precisely.”
XVIII.
As Blane approached the barn, he looked for a gap in the boards. Perhaps he could peek inside to see what the two men were doing. Finding such a gap near the barn door,
he stopped for a moment and peered inside. The relative darkness inside the barn prevented him from seeing anything clearly. Listening, he heard the men talking, but he could only make out a few words now and then.
He decided not to knock and opened the door.
When the two heard the creak of the barn door, they looked up. Wade had a scowl on his face.
“Thought you might like some coffee.”
Wade’s frown instantly disappeared. “Well, that’s right nice of you, Preacher.”
Blane handed the men the cups. Then he knelt down to where the two were seated on a bed of straw and poured the coffee. “Faye said you were cleaning my gun. I appreciate that. Mind if I take it now?”
“Uh, I haven’t had a chance to clean it yet.”
“That’s okay, Wade. It’s already clean. I’ll just take it now.”
“No, Preacher, I’m afraid not.”
Blane had begun to reach for his gun belt which sat between Wade and Clem. When he heard Wade’s remark, he withdrew his hand. “Why not?”
“Let’s just say I feel better keeping your gun.”
Blane tightened his jaw and looked Wade in the eyes. “Okay, what do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s get this out in the open. Do you intend to harm us?”
“If you behave yourselves, me and Clem won’t hurt ya.”
Blane figured that was a lie. “What do you want?”
“We’re gonna hole up here a while.”
“For how long?”
“I haven’t figgered that out yet.”
“Are we talking another day or a month?”
“Like I said, Preacher, I haven’t figgered that out yet.”
“Well, you can’t stay here.”
“Why not? Seems to me you’re in no position to start telling us what to do.”
“Look, Wade, I’m asking you nicely. Get on your horses and ride out of here right now.”
Wade frowned. “Preacher, you’re startin’ to git on my nerves. How would you like a bullet in your gut?”
“You’d shoot a man in cold blood?”
“I’d shoot you or carve you up with my bowie. Either way, I won’t hesitate. Now, git out of here!”
Blane stood and turned to walk out.
“One more thing, Preacher. Boil some more water. I’m gonna take a bath in that washtub out back. After that, Clem’s gonna take a bath.”
Clem flinched. “I ain’t taking no bath!”
“You stink to high heaven. You’re taking a bath!”
Blane turned, “Okay, I’ll bring your water.”
XIX.
During the day, Blane could not see inside the barn. Under cover of darkness, however, the situation had reversed. Through the space in the boards, Blane could clearly see the two men by the dim light of the overhead lantern. Now and then, he could make out a few words.
Clem said, “We got to get rid of that preacher! I haven’t seen a fine-looking woman like that Faye in a long time.”
“Yeah,” Wade replied, “that preacher gits under my skin. Now, you keep awake, hear? Git me up halfway through the night and I’ll take over watch.”
Clem nodded as Wade turned over and pulled up his blanket.
Clem sat with his legs crossed, staring off into space. After a few minutes, he stood the Winchester upright between his legs. Then he wrapped both hands around the barrel. Finally, he rested his cheek on his hands.
Blane turned his back to the wall and slid down into a sitting position. Now, all he had to do was wait. He had not eaten supper so he would not tend to fall asleep. The
two inside the barn, on the other hand, had stuffed themselves. Blane figured he would not have to wait long.
After about an hour, he peered through the space in the boards. Clem was in the same, cross-legged position. His eyes were shut and his breathing was deep and even. Wade had not stirred.
Blane knew all along that the problem would be entering the barn without disturbing the men. The barn door squeaked horribly every time someone opened it. Blane had never opened the back door, but if he could do so quietly, he could sneak up behind Clem. Stealthily, he made his way to the back of the barn.
Near the back door, Blane found a space between the boards wide enough to peer through. Clem had not moved and his eyes were still closed. Ever so carefully, Blane stepped to the door and released the latch. Inch by inch, he opened the door. As careful as he was, however, the door creaked again and again. But Blane would allow it to creak only once, after which he waited a full minute or two. As he waited, he listened intently for any movement inside.
After what seemed like an eternity, he had opened the door enough to turn sideways and squeeze through. He stood erect and let his arms hang at his sides. Quietly, he shook his arms and moved his head and shoulders, limbering up his muscles. He also allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
Clem had not moved. Wade was still lying quietly.
Cautiously, he took the first step, of perhaps twenty, toward Clem. His first thought was to pick up his own gun belt. But that would mean he would have to walk between Clem and the lantern. Blane figured a shadow across Clem’s eyelids would wake him. Blane’s next idea was to approach Clem from directly behind and draw the pistol from Clem’s holster. He altered his course with the next couple of steps to approach Clem from the rear.
As Blane rehearsed what he planned to do, a disturbing thought occurred. Many men wore guns with a thong on the holster holding the gun in place. Blane’s holster had just such a thong. If Clem’s holster had a thong and it was strapped over the hammer of his pistol, Blane would not be able to pull Clem’s pistol from the holster.
From this distance, he could not tell whether or not Clem’s holster had a thong. Furthermore, he could not remember whether or not he had seen a thong when he had sized up the man earlier in the day.
Additionally, Blane had to decide what to do once he had surprised Clem and had taken his gun. Blane’s instinct, of course, was not to shoot, but the situation might demand it. Certainly, Wade would awaken. Rather than surrender, he would react violently. Blane would be forced to kill Wade in such a circumstance. Clem, he figured, would present less of a problem since Blane had already taken the rifle away.
Still, anything could happen.
He took a step closer.
Within five steps of Clem, Blane’s heart sank. Clearly, Clem’s holster had a thong and it was tightly strapped over his pistol. That left the Winchester. But Clem had his hands locked around the barrel with his head resting on his hands. Blane would have a hard time prying the rifle from Clem’s hands. The man would certainly wake up and tighten his grip. It was possible Blane might not be able to get the rifle away from Clem at all!
Blane took another step. In doing so, he felt his nerves begin to jitter. He was too close to run away and too far away to fight. And still, he had not decided on the best course of action.
If either man woke up now, all would be lost. Blane must make his move now. He took another step. He was close. Very, very close.
TO BE CONTINUED
Comment on Faith (Part 6)
Our walk through this world is one we must tread alone. Although we have relationships with family and friends who may guide us (or criticize us), we are accountable for our own decisions. Decisions we make today, either wise or foolish, strongly influence our circumstances tomorrow.
Part of human nature is to second guess our decisions. We tend to characterize some decisions as mistakes and imagine what current circumstances would be like had we decided differently.
We may recognize that regret and worry add only sorrow to our lives. Learning by one’s mistakes is wise. Regretting past decisions and worrying about future circumstances, on the other hand, are pointless torments and inevitably produce their emotional equivalent: feelings of worthlessness.
As we become quick to recognize when our mind is beginning to regret or worry, we can interrupt our thoughts with something beneficial. One of the best cures for regret and worry is prayer.
Whereas regret focuses on the past and worry focuses on the future, prayer operates in the present. When we pray, we can ask for and receive forgiveness for our past mistakes. We can ask God to guide us in the present and watch out for us in the future. Assured of our worth as a child of Almighty God, we need not condemn ourselves.
How much does God value us? He loved us so much that he sent his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross for us. Jesus saw us in our sinful condition and said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”[1]
Blane had learned the lesson. He replaced his regrets with prayer.
[1] Matthew 11:29; cf. Matthew 11:28-30; Luke 12:22-31
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 5)
By becoming lax in a lawless land, Blane had broken a cardinal rule. Now, he was caught in the open and he was unarmed.
Blane was certain the two men before him would react violently at the first provocation. He decided, therefore, not to threaten them in any manner. At the same time, he knew he must “test the spirits,” that is, he must satisfactorily answer for himself whether the two before him were sheep or wolves.
With a smug smile, the first one asked, “Did we scare ya?”
Blane knew not to lie. “You scared me a little; surprised me a lot. My mind was on the sick boy inside. I came out to fetch some water to boil. I didn’t hear you ride up.”
The first one bowed his head momentarily. The brim of his hat blocked Blane’s view of the stranger’s eyes and lips. Blane, however, heard the man mutter something to his partner.
The second man had held his gaze steady on Blane. When he heard his partner’s words, his gaze fell to Blane’s side, precisely where Blane’s gun should have been. With a slow blink, his gaze came up, steady on Blane’s eyes.
A long moment passed. Blane felt the tension of the silence. The still, small voice within him, however, told him not to speak.
The first man raised his head so that now both strangers watched him. Blane stood calmly. He was careful not to return their stares but also he did not look away.
Blane knew that men in this country, especially outlaws, were savvy at reading another man’s intentions. A careless word, a wrong gesture, or a bead of sweat could betray hostility or fear. Unlike God, however, the devil cannot read minds. Blane would not communicate his sense of foreboding as long as he showed no fear. He would stand and wait for the strangers to make the first move.
In reality, what seemed like hours was only a few passing moments. But Blane knew these moments were crucial. Eventually, he must get to his gun. First, however, he must pass this test without getting shot. As suspicious as Blane figured the strangers were, he had presented no reason for them to react. Blane also figured the next stranger to speak would be the leader.
Another moment passed.
Finally, the second man said, “Mind if we water our horses and trouble ya for a meal?”
“You’re welcome to water your horses. I’ll have to ask about the meal. This is not my land.”
“Whose land is it?”
“A farmer owns this land. I’m expecting him to come in from the fields anytime now.”
The two dismounted and walked their horses to the water trough.
“I’m Parson Blane.”
“You’re a preacher?” the second stranger asked with surprise.
“Yes sir, I am.”
“I knew something was different about you. I just didn’t know what.”
In a gentle voice, Blane said, “If you don’t mind my asking, who might you be?”
“I’m Wade,” the second man said. “This here is Clem. You say you got a sick boy inside? He ain’t got nothin’ that’s catchin’, does he?”
“No,” Blane replied, “his leg is broken and the wound got infected.”
Wade grunted.
While the two let their horses drink from the trough, Blane pumped fresh water into a bucket. With quick glances that did not arouse suspicion, Blane tried to learn as much as he could about the two strangers.
Wade was the taller of the two, standing perhaps six feet. A scar on his left jaw was only partially covered by his scraggly beard. On his right hip, he wore a Colt .44 Open Top, the same model six-shooter that Blane owned. On his left hip, he wore a bowie knife. An 1860 Henry rifle hung in its scabbard on his horse.
Blane noticed that Clem, a husky man, walked with a waddle, gingerly placing each foot in front of the other.
During his glimpse of the man, Blane decided Clem was either lame or that his feet hurt. Clem’s weapon of choice was a Colt Model 1860 Army revolver that he wore on his right hip. On his horse, Clem carried a Sharps .44 rifle in its scabbard. Blane also noticed an unsheathed Winchester that Clem had tied to the saddle.
Blane continued to pump water into the bucket until it was full. Then he turned to walk to the cabin.
“Where ya goin’?” Wade asked.
“I’m taking this water to boil.”
“I’ll go with ya,” Wade said.
“It’s best you wait here. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No,” Wade said, “I’ll go in with ya.” He turned to Clem, “Take care of the horses.”
Walking toward the cabin, Blane thought quickly. He did not want these men to have access to the cabin. He decided to gamble. With Wade walking right behind him, Blane stopped abruptly and turned on his heel.
“Whatcha doin’?” Wade asked.
“I can’t allow you to come in. This is not my home. We must ask permission first.”
The words made so much sense that Wade hesitated, as if searching for a way to insist upon going inside. Just as Wade had found words and was about to speak, Blane asked, “What’s the matter, Wade? Don’t you trust me?”
After a long moment, Blane saw resignation come to Wade’s eyes. He had decided to wait outside. Just then, however, the door opened and Faye walked out onto the porch. “Who are you talking to?”
“Well,” Wade said in a drawn-out tone, “who do we have here?”
Blane turned toward Faye. “These two men asked to water their horses.”
Faye glanced at Wade and then looked past him to Clem at the water trough. Without moving, Blane glared at Faye, trying to catch her attention in order to communicate danger.
Before Blane and Faye could make eye contact, Wade stepped from behind Blane. He took off his hat and said, “Ma’am, me and Clem has ridden a far piece on only beans and jerky. Could you find it in your heart to fix us a meal?”
“I guess that would be alright,” Faye said. “My husband isn’t in from the fields yet, but I’m expecting him shortly. Two more for lunch should be no problem.”
Exasperated, Blane lowered and shook his head. His plan to get his gun had failed. He felt sure that making these men feel welcome was like offering shelter to the devil!
XV.
Faye stood at the window, looking out toward the fields. She was worried about Claude. He should have been home by now.
“Where is that man?” she said.
Wade and Clem sat at the table, burying their faces in the plates of food Faye had prepared for them. Blane sat at the fireplace, watching the kettle of water he had hung over the fire. Now and then, he would glance at his gun belt that hung on a hook by the door.
When Blane stood up, Wade turned his head, watching him intently.
“Is that your pistol hanging by the door?” Wade asked with his mouth full.
Blane nodded, “Yes, it is.”
Wade grunted and shoveled another mouthful of food. Still, he carefully watched Blane.
Blane took a step toward Faye at the window to test Wade’s reaction. As soon as he did, Wade straightened in his chair. Still chewing his food, Wade let his right hand drop to his side.
Blane stopped. In as casual of a tone as he could manage, he asked Faye, “You said Claude was supposed to be back around noon?”
“Yes,” she said without turning.
“Maybe he just forgot about the time,” Blane offered.
“No,” she said. “That’s not like him.”
“Maybe he found work that needed to be done and decided it couldn’t wait.”
“That’s possible,” Faye said. “Sam, sit down and eat your food. It’s getting cold.”
“I’m not hungry, Faye. Thanks all the same.”
Wade glanced at the extra plate on the table. “Mind if me and Clem splits your food? This pretty lady sure makes some fine cookin’.”
“Go ahead,” Blane replied.
Wade said to Clem, “Grab that plate and scrape half off for me.” All the while, Wade kept watching Blane.
Blane sat back down on the chair by the fireplace. He could not make a move without arousing Wade’s suspicions.
When the water finally began boiling, Blane removed the kettle from the fireplace and sat it on the floor. For a brief moment, he felt the impulse to lob boiling water onto the two at the table and make a dash for his gun. But the move would be too risky with Faye so close by. Also, the two, so far, had done nothing to warrant radical action. His sense of foreboding, however, had not abated.
XVI.
After Blane changed Andy’s bandages, he sat and talked with the boy for a few moments.
“Who are those men?” Andy asked.
Almost in a whisper, Blane said, “I think they’re a couple of saddle tramps who could cause a lot of trouble.”
“You think they’re outlaws?” Andy asked with wide eyes.
“Shh. Keep your voice down, son. I don’t know if they’re outlaws or not. But I have a bad sense about them. How are you feeling?”
“I feel pretty good, but my leg is stiff.”
“You’re doing real good, son. It will take some time for your leg to heal. You can be patient for that long, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I can wait.”
“Good. Now, you get some rest.”
Blane had just stood up when he heard the front door close. He walked into the outer room. Faye was sitting at the table.
“Where did they go?”
“They said they were tired and wanted to take a nap in the barn.”
When Blane turned to retrieve his gun, he stopped short. His gun belt was gone!
“Where’s my gun?”
“They took it.”
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Where’s Claude’s rifle?”
“He took it with him this morning.”
“Do you keep any other guns in the cabin?”
“Why?”
“Don’t you see, Faye? They took my gun!”
“Wade said he was going to clean his gun. As a favor for the hospitality, he said he would clean yours, too.”
Blane sat down next to her. “Faye, my gun is always clean. They took it to keep me unarmed.”
Faye was confused. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying those two are dangerous. We should never have invited them in!”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I tried, but didn’t have the chance. Faye, we have to get rid of them right away. The longer they stay here the more trouble they will cause.”
“They seemed harmless enough. Maybe Wade really does want to clean your gun.”
Blane shook his head but said nothing.
Watching him, Faye felt a sudden, sharp spasm of fear.
TO BE CONTINUED
* * * * *
Comment on Faith (Part 5)
When one has been blessed with faith, he serves God. Those outside the faith serve themselves. The motives, therefore, of sheep and wolves are opposite. God’s flock of believers is right with God in their vertical relationship. In obedience to God’s Word, their horizontal relationships are built upon love and service toward others. Those outside the faith are not right with God and their horizontal relationships are built upon competitive self interests.
It is true that a Christian may fail and act selfishly. But God’s children recognize such misbehavior as sin for which they should seek forgiveness while resolving to do better. Their “new birth” instinct is to bring glory, not dishonor, to their heavenly Father.
One outside the faith feels no such compunction. One’s “civil righteousness” is based upon gratification of self. The unconverted will perform good works (in the estimation of men, not God) for as long as it serves their personal interests. They refrain from misbehavior, because they fear penalty under law, or because they fear damaging relationships from which they receive personal gratification.
Jesus made a profound distinction between those who are believers and those who are not:
John 8:42-45 (NIV)
42 Jesus said to them, "If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here. I have not come on my own; but he sent me.
43 Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say.
44 You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.
45 Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me!
As we live our daily lives, it is crucial that we maintain Christ at the forefront of our consciousness. Otherwise, as happened to Blane in the story, strangers who are wolves may catch us in the open and unarmed.
Blane was certain the two men before him would react violently at the first provocation. He decided, therefore, not to threaten them in any manner. At the same time, he knew he must “test the spirits,” that is, he must satisfactorily answer for himself whether the two before him were sheep or wolves.
With a smug smile, the first one asked, “Did we scare ya?”
Blane knew not to lie. “You scared me a little; surprised me a lot. My mind was on the sick boy inside. I came out to fetch some water to boil. I didn’t hear you ride up.”
The first one bowed his head momentarily. The brim of his hat blocked Blane’s view of the stranger’s eyes and lips. Blane, however, heard the man mutter something to his partner.
The second man had held his gaze steady on Blane. When he heard his partner’s words, his gaze fell to Blane’s side, precisely where Blane’s gun should have been. With a slow blink, his gaze came up, steady on Blane’s eyes.
A long moment passed. Blane felt the tension of the silence. The still, small voice within him, however, told him not to speak.
The first man raised his head so that now both strangers watched him. Blane stood calmly. He was careful not to return their stares but also he did not look away.
Blane knew that men in this country, especially outlaws, were savvy at reading another man’s intentions. A careless word, a wrong gesture, or a bead of sweat could betray hostility or fear. Unlike God, however, the devil cannot read minds. Blane would not communicate his sense of foreboding as long as he showed no fear. He would stand and wait for the strangers to make the first move.
In reality, what seemed like hours was only a few passing moments. But Blane knew these moments were crucial. Eventually, he must get to his gun. First, however, he must pass this test without getting shot. As suspicious as Blane figured the strangers were, he had presented no reason for them to react. Blane also figured the next stranger to speak would be the leader.
Another moment passed.
Finally, the second man said, “Mind if we water our horses and trouble ya for a meal?”
“You’re welcome to water your horses. I’ll have to ask about the meal. This is not my land.”
“Whose land is it?”
“A farmer owns this land. I’m expecting him to come in from the fields anytime now.”
The two dismounted and walked their horses to the water trough.
“I’m Parson Blane.”
“You’re a preacher?” the second stranger asked with surprise.
“Yes sir, I am.”
“I knew something was different about you. I just didn’t know what.”
In a gentle voice, Blane said, “If you don’t mind my asking, who might you be?”
“I’m Wade,” the second man said. “This here is Clem. You say you got a sick boy inside? He ain’t got nothin’ that’s catchin’, does he?”
“No,” Blane replied, “his leg is broken and the wound got infected.”
Wade grunted.
While the two let their horses drink from the trough, Blane pumped fresh water into a bucket. With quick glances that did not arouse suspicion, Blane tried to learn as much as he could about the two strangers.
Wade was the taller of the two, standing perhaps six feet. A scar on his left jaw was only partially covered by his scraggly beard. On his right hip, he wore a Colt .44 Open Top, the same model six-shooter that Blane owned. On his left hip, he wore a bowie knife. An 1860 Henry rifle hung in its scabbard on his horse.
Blane noticed that Clem, a husky man, walked with a waddle, gingerly placing each foot in front of the other.
During his glimpse of the man, Blane decided Clem was either lame or that his feet hurt. Clem’s weapon of choice was a Colt Model 1860 Army revolver that he wore on his right hip. On his horse, Clem carried a Sharps .44 rifle in its scabbard. Blane also noticed an unsheathed Winchester that Clem had tied to the saddle.
Blane continued to pump water into the bucket until it was full. Then he turned to walk to the cabin.
“Where ya goin’?” Wade asked.
“I’m taking this water to boil.”
“I’ll go with ya,” Wade said.
“It’s best you wait here. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No,” Wade said, “I’ll go in with ya.” He turned to Clem, “Take care of the horses.”
Walking toward the cabin, Blane thought quickly. He did not want these men to have access to the cabin. He decided to gamble. With Wade walking right behind him, Blane stopped abruptly and turned on his heel.
“Whatcha doin’?” Wade asked.
“I can’t allow you to come in. This is not my home. We must ask permission first.”
The words made so much sense that Wade hesitated, as if searching for a way to insist upon going inside. Just as Wade had found words and was about to speak, Blane asked, “What’s the matter, Wade? Don’t you trust me?”
After a long moment, Blane saw resignation come to Wade’s eyes. He had decided to wait outside. Just then, however, the door opened and Faye walked out onto the porch. “Who are you talking to?”
“Well,” Wade said in a drawn-out tone, “who do we have here?”
Blane turned toward Faye. “These two men asked to water their horses.”
Faye glanced at Wade and then looked past him to Clem at the water trough. Without moving, Blane glared at Faye, trying to catch her attention in order to communicate danger.
Before Blane and Faye could make eye contact, Wade stepped from behind Blane. He took off his hat and said, “Ma’am, me and Clem has ridden a far piece on only beans and jerky. Could you find it in your heart to fix us a meal?”
“I guess that would be alright,” Faye said. “My husband isn’t in from the fields yet, but I’m expecting him shortly. Two more for lunch should be no problem.”
Exasperated, Blane lowered and shook his head. His plan to get his gun had failed. He felt sure that making these men feel welcome was like offering shelter to the devil!
XV.
Faye stood at the window, looking out toward the fields. She was worried about Claude. He should have been home by now.
“Where is that man?” she said.
Wade and Clem sat at the table, burying their faces in the plates of food Faye had prepared for them. Blane sat at the fireplace, watching the kettle of water he had hung over the fire. Now and then, he would glance at his gun belt that hung on a hook by the door.
When Blane stood up, Wade turned his head, watching him intently.
“Is that your pistol hanging by the door?” Wade asked with his mouth full.
Blane nodded, “Yes, it is.”
Wade grunted and shoveled another mouthful of food. Still, he carefully watched Blane.
Blane took a step toward Faye at the window to test Wade’s reaction. As soon as he did, Wade straightened in his chair. Still chewing his food, Wade let his right hand drop to his side.
Blane stopped. In as casual of a tone as he could manage, he asked Faye, “You said Claude was supposed to be back around noon?”
“Yes,” she said without turning.
“Maybe he just forgot about the time,” Blane offered.
“No,” she said. “That’s not like him.”
“Maybe he found work that needed to be done and decided it couldn’t wait.”
“That’s possible,” Faye said. “Sam, sit down and eat your food. It’s getting cold.”
“I’m not hungry, Faye. Thanks all the same.”
Wade glanced at the extra plate on the table. “Mind if me and Clem splits your food? This pretty lady sure makes some fine cookin’.”
“Go ahead,” Blane replied.
Wade said to Clem, “Grab that plate and scrape half off for me.” All the while, Wade kept watching Blane.
Blane sat back down on the chair by the fireplace. He could not make a move without arousing Wade’s suspicions.
When the water finally began boiling, Blane removed the kettle from the fireplace and sat it on the floor. For a brief moment, he felt the impulse to lob boiling water onto the two at the table and make a dash for his gun. But the move would be too risky with Faye so close by. Also, the two, so far, had done nothing to warrant radical action. His sense of foreboding, however, had not abated.
XVI.
After Blane changed Andy’s bandages, he sat and talked with the boy for a few moments.
“Who are those men?” Andy asked.
Almost in a whisper, Blane said, “I think they’re a couple of saddle tramps who could cause a lot of trouble.”
“You think they’re outlaws?” Andy asked with wide eyes.
“Shh. Keep your voice down, son. I don’t know if they’re outlaws or not. But I have a bad sense about them. How are you feeling?”
“I feel pretty good, but my leg is stiff.”
“You’re doing real good, son. It will take some time for your leg to heal. You can be patient for that long, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I can wait.”
“Good. Now, you get some rest.”
Blane had just stood up when he heard the front door close. He walked into the outer room. Faye was sitting at the table.
“Where did they go?”
“They said they were tired and wanted to take a nap in the barn.”
When Blane turned to retrieve his gun, he stopped short. His gun belt was gone!
“Where’s my gun?”
“They took it.”
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Where’s Claude’s rifle?”
“He took it with him this morning.”
“Do you keep any other guns in the cabin?”
“Why?”
“Don’t you see, Faye? They took my gun!”
“Wade said he was going to clean his gun. As a favor for the hospitality, he said he would clean yours, too.”
Blane sat down next to her. “Faye, my gun is always clean. They took it to keep me unarmed.”
Faye was confused. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying those two are dangerous. We should never have invited them in!”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I tried, but didn’t have the chance. Faye, we have to get rid of them right away. The longer they stay here the more trouble they will cause.”
“They seemed harmless enough. Maybe Wade really does want to clean your gun.”
Blane shook his head but said nothing.
Watching him, Faye felt a sudden, sharp spasm of fear.
TO BE CONTINUED
* * * * *
Comment on Faith (Part 5)
When one has been blessed with faith, he serves God. Those outside the faith serve themselves. The motives, therefore, of sheep and wolves are opposite. God’s flock of believers is right with God in their vertical relationship. In obedience to God’s Word, their horizontal relationships are built upon love and service toward others. Those outside the faith are not right with God and their horizontal relationships are built upon competitive self interests.
It is true that a Christian may fail and act selfishly. But God’s children recognize such misbehavior as sin for which they should seek forgiveness while resolving to do better. Their “new birth” instinct is to bring glory, not dishonor, to their heavenly Father.
One outside the faith feels no such compunction. One’s “civil righteousness” is based upon gratification of self. The unconverted will perform good works (in the estimation of men, not God) for as long as it serves their personal interests. They refrain from misbehavior, because they fear penalty under law, or because they fear damaging relationships from which they receive personal gratification.
Jesus made a profound distinction between those who are believers and those who are not:
John 8:42-45 (NIV)
42 Jesus said to them, "If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here. I have not come on my own; but he sent me.
43 Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say.
44 You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father's desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.
45 Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me!
As we live our daily lives, it is crucial that we maintain Christ at the forefront of our consciousness. Otherwise, as happened to Blane in the story, strangers who are wolves may catch us in the open and unarmed.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 4)
XI.
As a minister of the Lord, Blane was accustomed to hearing that someone “needed to talk to him.”
“Can we step outside?” Faye asked.
“Sure,” Blane replied.
“Do you mind waiting for me on the porch? I’ll bring out fresh coffee.”
“Coffee sounds good.”
In the few minutes Blane had alone, he reviewed his situation. Andy was his prime concern. For now, Andy’s condition was stable. But during the war, Blane had seen the condition quickly turn to disaster. Within a few days, the patients were dead. Had he done all he could for the boy?
As for other concerns, they were minor. He would miss his Sunday sermon in Abilene. The church folk in the town would be worried over his absence. But he could not leave until he was sure Andy was alright.
Faye walked out onto the porch and handed him a cup of coffee. Tasting it, he said, “Um, that’s good. Thank you.” Then after a moment, he asked, “What would you like to talk about?”
“Oh, several things really.” She turned and walked toward the other end of the porch. “I don’t know your first name.”
“It’s Sam.”
“May I call you ‘Sam’?”
“Sure.”
“Yesterday when I touched you, you said you thought I was someone else. Tell me who, won’t you?”
Blane closed his eyes. “I thought you were Sarah, my wife.”
“You’re married then?” she asked.
“I was married. Sarah died almost five years ago.”
“Sam, I’m sorry.”
Blane took another sip of coffee. He noticed his feelings. For the moment he was holding up well. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Tell me about her, Sam.”
Seeing his hesitation and the change in his expression, Faye felt the impulse to apologize. But she held her tongue.
“Sarah,” he said at last, “was the only woman I ever loved. She stood out in the crowd. I will always remember her smile and her laughter. She loved music and she sang beautifully. After the Lord took her and the baby, I was a broken man.”
“Baby?”
“Sarah died in childbirth. The baby was stillborn.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“It’s okay. She and the child are in Paradise. There’s no pain there. And magnificent songs to sing.”
Faye was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Sam, I want to thank you for what you’re doing for Andy.”
Blane was glad Faye had changed the subject. His emotional strength had quickly drained away.
“Sam,” she said, “what made you decide not to take Andy’s leg?”
“The Lord showed me a vision when I was praying. I interpreted it to mean that I should separate the bad tissue from the good. There was no need to take the whole leg.”
“When Amie and I were in the barn, we heard Andy’s screams. I thought you were amputating his leg.”
“I had to cut a little into the good tissue. He felt that. The whiskey I poured over the wound stung badly. Mostly though, he screamed because he was scared.”
“Well, thank you, Sam.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank God.”
“Yes, Sam, about your God. How could he take away from you the ones you loved?”
“My God, Faye? He’s your God, too.”
“I don’t believe the way you do, Sam. If there is a God, I believe he’s a loving God. He would never hurt people or send them to hell.”
“What else would you have him do and not do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, as long as you’re creating your own God, what other things would you have him do and not do.”
“Sam, this is how I feel. Something inside me tells me God is like that.”
“That something inside you is sinful pride. When we yield to our arrogance, it’s easy to make an idol of our own ideas about God.”
Faye craned her neck. “What makes you so high and mighty that you can determine what God is really like?”
“God is not created in Man’s image. When we seek the true God, He, Himself, tells us what he is like.”
“In the Bible?”
“Absolutely.”
Faye turned and faced him. “Does it say in the Bible why God took your wife and child?”
“You speak of Sarah and the child as though they were my property that God stole. How can God steal what is already his? No, Faye, I am thankful for every minute he allowed me to share with Sarah.”
“Your wife and child are dead, and you are thankful? That seems odd.”
“Don’t twist my words, Faye. My wife and child are dead, that’s true. What I thank the Lord for is the time Sarah and I had together. In this world, everything dies sooner or later. It’s in the next life we live forever.”
“I don’t know about that, Sam. All I know about is this life, now. You’re here, too. But you always seem so distant.”
“Distant?”
Faye grew irritated. “Yes, distant.” She hesitated a moment. Then she said, “Sam, do you think I’m pretty?”
Blane’s eyebrows rose. “Well, sure, Faye, you’re pretty.”
She held his gaze and began walking toward him.
“What are you doing, Faye?”
She did not answer but continued to approach him.
“Stop,” he said, “you’re a married woman.”
Faye stopped. But after a moment, she began walking toward him again.
Blane’s emotions were mixed. As a man of God, he knew Faye’s intentions were wrong. Just as troubling, however, he felt his own desire to hold her.
When she had walked about halfway, the door opened. Amie walked out, rubbing away the sleep in her eyes. “Mommy,” she said, “I’m hungry!”
XII.
After loosening the splints on Andy’s leg, Blane carefully removed the bandages. He laid a strip of cloth soaked with bark mixture on top of the wound. Then he bandaged Andy’s leg with clean cloth and tightened the splints.
Blane sat down in a chair beside the bed. He handed the boy a cup of bark mixture to drink.
Andy wrinkled his nose.
“Try it, son. I added a little sugar, so it should taste better. And I left it hot.”
Andy sipped the liquid.
“Does it taste better?”
“A little,” the boy admitted.
“How do you feel?”
“My leg is sore. But it must be getting better.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it doesn’t stink anymore.”
Blane was stunned. “What did you say?”
“I said my leg doesn’t stink anymore.”
“Glory to God, son, I believe we’ve seen a miracle!”
“What do you mean?”
Blane tried to compose himself. He was convinced, now more than ever, that he had smelled gangrene. “Andy,” he said, “we have the Lord to thank for saving your leg.”
The boy returned Blane’s gaze but said nothing. Slowly, he closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Blane asked. He reached over and felt Andy’s forehead. The boy was burning up!
XIII.
With no time to lose, Blane dug a deep pit behind the cabin. He collected several large stones and threw them into the hole. Then he covered the stones with a layer of dirt. On top of that, he threw kindling and started a fire. Finally, he added large cuts of wood that he had gathered from the barn. Soon, the fire was raging.
Watching Blane’s furious activity, Faye was in a panic. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.
“Andy’s fever is out of control. We have to cool him down immediately!”
With the shovel, Blane began to peel away the still-burning strips of wood. He shoveled dirt onto the scattered pieces to kill the flames. Finally, he reached the layer of dirt covering the stones and shoveled it away. Carefully now, he withdrew the stones with the shovel and carried them to the water trough and dropped them in.
When all the stones were in the water, Blane called to Faye. “Come with me!”
The two rushed into Andy’s room. “I’m going to pick him up and carry him out to the trough. I want you to support his leg so it moves as little as possible.”
“Okay,” Faye said.
Blane picked up the boy as Faye supported Andy’s leg. Moving carefully but quickly, Blane and Faye made their way out of the room. Amie opened the front door for the couple carrying the boy.
At the trough, Blane carefully began lowering the boy into the water. Faye supported Andy’s leg above the waterline so it did not get wet.
“Doing okay, son?” Blane asked.
“I’m okay,” the boy said bravely.
“Andy, I want you to take a big breath and hold it. I’m going to lower your head below the water. Hold your nose. Here we go.”
With his arms supporting the boy, Blane let the boy sink deeper into the water until Andy was fully immersed except for his leg.
When Faye felt the water, she said, “It’s ice-cold!”
“That’s what the stones are for. The fire above them sucked out all the heat.”
Several more times, Blane and Faye dunked the boy. After each dunking, Blane held the boy securely above the water so Andy could relax and catch his breath.
When they were done, they carried the boy back into his room. Faye stripped him down and dried him with a towel. After she had put fresh underclothes on Andy, Blane changed the dressings again. He felt the boy’s forehead. For now, the danger had passed.
“You doing okay, son?”
“Yes,” Andy said, “I feel a whole lot better. That was fun!”
Blane chuckled, partly because the boy’s remark had surprised him, mostly because of his own relief.
XIV.
When Blane stepped out of the cabin, he stopped abruptly. Facing him at twenty paces, two hard-looking strangers sat atop their horses. All his experience told him these were ruthless men.
Blane felt a dark trace of fear. Instead of strapped around his waist, his gun belt hung on a hook inside the cabin!
TO BE CONTINUED
*****
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 4)
“It has been said that the value of prayer is purely subjective and that prayers have no effect beyond making people feel that God will help them. It is true that prayer has this reassuring effect on our troubled hearts, but the reason for this is that God has promised to hear the prayers of His children. He says, ‘I will deliver you’ (Psalm 50:15). The psalmist also writes: ‘He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He also will hear their cry and save them’ (Psalm 145:19). It is for this reason that ‘[t]he effective, fervent prayer of the righteous man avails much’ (James 5:16). Prayer does not work like a drug, merely to quiet the troubled hearts of those who pray. God actually answers prayer (Psalm 65:2). When Elijah prayed, ‘it did not rain on the land for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain’ (James 5:17-18). This was not a subjective delusion, it was an objective fact. We do not pray merely to calm ourselves. We call on the living God who is able and willing to help us (Psalm 50:15).”[1]
In some cases, God “may withhold His help to make us realize more fully how helpless we are or to teach us to call on Him more fervently (Mark 4:37-41; 7:25-30). But finally God will with everlasting kindness have mercy on us (Isaiah 54:7-8).”[2]
In the story, Blane prayed fervently for God to help the boy and for God to receive glory through the trial before them all. Later, upon examining the boy’s leg, Blane discovered that the wound was not as bad as he had first imagined. Although Blane was sure he had smelled gangrene initially, he found no sign of it later. He thought he had made a mistake and that the smell was only in his memory of the war.
Andy’s remark, however, brought Blane face to face with the reality that God, indeed, answers prayer.
[1]Edward W. A. Koehler, A Summary of Christian Doctrine, Third Revised Edition, New King James Version, ed. Brent W. Kuhlman (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006), p. 228
[2] Ibid.
As a minister of the Lord, Blane was accustomed to hearing that someone “needed to talk to him.”
“Can we step outside?” Faye asked.
“Sure,” Blane replied.
“Do you mind waiting for me on the porch? I’ll bring out fresh coffee.”
“Coffee sounds good.”
In the few minutes Blane had alone, he reviewed his situation. Andy was his prime concern. For now, Andy’s condition was stable. But during the war, Blane had seen the condition quickly turn to disaster. Within a few days, the patients were dead. Had he done all he could for the boy?
As for other concerns, they were minor. He would miss his Sunday sermon in Abilene. The church folk in the town would be worried over his absence. But he could not leave until he was sure Andy was alright.
Faye walked out onto the porch and handed him a cup of coffee. Tasting it, he said, “Um, that’s good. Thank you.” Then after a moment, he asked, “What would you like to talk about?”
“Oh, several things really.” She turned and walked toward the other end of the porch. “I don’t know your first name.”
“It’s Sam.”
“May I call you ‘Sam’?”
“Sure.”
“Yesterday when I touched you, you said you thought I was someone else. Tell me who, won’t you?”
Blane closed his eyes. “I thought you were Sarah, my wife.”
“You’re married then?” she asked.
“I was married. Sarah died almost five years ago.”
“Sam, I’m sorry.”
Blane took another sip of coffee. He noticed his feelings. For the moment he was holding up well. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Tell me about her, Sam.”
Seeing his hesitation and the change in his expression, Faye felt the impulse to apologize. But she held her tongue.
“Sarah,” he said at last, “was the only woman I ever loved. She stood out in the crowd. I will always remember her smile and her laughter. She loved music and she sang beautifully. After the Lord took her and the baby, I was a broken man.”
“Baby?”
“Sarah died in childbirth. The baby was stillborn.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“It’s okay. She and the child are in Paradise. There’s no pain there. And magnificent songs to sing.”
Faye was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Sam, I want to thank you for what you’re doing for Andy.”
Blane was glad Faye had changed the subject. His emotional strength had quickly drained away.
“Sam,” she said, “what made you decide not to take Andy’s leg?”
“The Lord showed me a vision when I was praying. I interpreted it to mean that I should separate the bad tissue from the good. There was no need to take the whole leg.”
“When Amie and I were in the barn, we heard Andy’s screams. I thought you were amputating his leg.”
“I had to cut a little into the good tissue. He felt that. The whiskey I poured over the wound stung badly. Mostly though, he screamed because he was scared.”
“Well, thank you, Sam.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank God.”
“Yes, Sam, about your God. How could he take away from you the ones you loved?”
“My God, Faye? He’s your God, too.”
“I don’t believe the way you do, Sam. If there is a God, I believe he’s a loving God. He would never hurt people or send them to hell.”
“What else would you have him do and not do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, as long as you’re creating your own God, what other things would you have him do and not do.”
“Sam, this is how I feel. Something inside me tells me God is like that.”
“That something inside you is sinful pride. When we yield to our arrogance, it’s easy to make an idol of our own ideas about God.”
Faye craned her neck. “What makes you so high and mighty that you can determine what God is really like?”
“God is not created in Man’s image. When we seek the true God, He, Himself, tells us what he is like.”
“In the Bible?”
“Absolutely.”
Faye turned and faced him. “Does it say in the Bible why God took your wife and child?”
“You speak of Sarah and the child as though they were my property that God stole. How can God steal what is already his? No, Faye, I am thankful for every minute he allowed me to share with Sarah.”
“Your wife and child are dead, and you are thankful? That seems odd.”
“Don’t twist my words, Faye. My wife and child are dead, that’s true. What I thank the Lord for is the time Sarah and I had together. In this world, everything dies sooner or later. It’s in the next life we live forever.”
“I don’t know about that, Sam. All I know about is this life, now. You’re here, too. But you always seem so distant.”
“Distant?”
Faye grew irritated. “Yes, distant.” She hesitated a moment. Then she said, “Sam, do you think I’m pretty?”
Blane’s eyebrows rose. “Well, sure, Faye, you’re pretty.”
She held his gaze and began walking toward him.
“What are you doing, Faye?”
She did not answer but continued to approach him.
“Stop,” he said, “you’re a married woman.”
Faye stopped. But after a moment, she began walking toward him again.
Blane’s emotions were mixed. As a man of God, he knew Faye’s intentions were wrong. Just as troubling, however, he felt his own desire to hold her.
When she had walked about halfway, the door opened. Amie walked out, rubbing away the sleep in her eyes. “Mommy,” she said, “I’m hungry!”
XII.
After loosening the splints on Andy’s leg, Blane carefully removed the bandages. He laid a strip of cloth soaked with bark mixture on top of the wound. Then he bandaged Andy’s leg with clean cloth and tightened the splints.
Blane sat down in a chair beside the bed. He handed the boy a cup of bark mixture to drink.
Andy wrinkled his nose.
“Try it, son. I added a little sugar, so it should taste better. And I left it hot.”
Andy sipped the liquid.
“Does it taste better?”
“A little,” the boy admitted.
“How do you feel?”
“My leg is sore. But it must be getting better.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it doesn’t stink anymore.”
Blane was stunned. “What did you say?”
“I said my leg doesn’t stink anymore.”
“Glory to God, son, I believe we’ve seen a miracle!”
“What do you mean?”
Blane tried to compose himself. He was convinced, now more than ever, that he had smelled gangrene. “Andy,” he said, “we have the Lord to thank for saving your leg.”
The boy returned Blane’s gaze but said nothing. Slowly, he closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Blane asked. He reached over and felt Andy’s forehead. The boy was burning up!
XIII.
With no time to lose, Blane dug a deep pit behind the cabin. He collected several large stones and threw them into the hole. Then he covered the stones with a layer of dirt. On top of that, he threw kindling and started a fire. Finally, he added large cuts of wood that he had gathered from the barn. Soon, the fire was raging.
Watching Blane’s furious activity, Faye was in a panic. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.
“Andy’s fever is out of control. We have to cool him down immediately!”
With the shovel, Blane began to peel away the still-burning strips of wood. He shoveled dirt onto the scattered pieces to kill the flames. Finally, he reached the layer of dirt covering the stones and shoveled it away. Carefully now, he withdrew the stones with the shovel and carried them to the water trough and dropped them in.
When all the stones were in the water, Blane called to Faye. “Come with me!”
The two rushed into Andy’s room. “I’m going to pick him up and carry him out to the trough. I want you to support his leg so it moves as little as possible.”
“Okay,” Faye said.
Blane picked up the boy as Faye supported Andy’s leg. Moving carefully but quickly, Blane and Faye made their way out of the room. Amie opened the front door for the couple carrying the boy.
At the trough, Blane carefully began lowering the boy into the water. Faye supported Andy’s leg above the waterline so it did not get wet.
“Doing okay, son?” Blane asked.
“I’m okay,” the boy said bravely.
“Andy, I want you to take a big breath and hold it. I’m going to lower your head below the water. Hold your nose. Here we go.”
With his arms supporting the boy, Blane let the boy sink deeper into the water until Andy was fully immersed except for his leg.
When Faye felt the water, she said, “It’s ice-cold!”
“That’s what the stones are for. The fire above them sucked out all the heat.”
Several more times, Blane and Faye dunked the boy. After each dunking, Blane held the boy securely above the water so Andy could relax and catch his breath.
When they were done, they carried the boy back into his room. Faye stripped him down and dried him with a towel. After she had put fresh underclothes on Andy, Blane changed the dressings again. He felt the boy’s forehead. For now, the danger had passed.
“You doing okay, son?”
“Yes,” Andy said, “I feel a whole lot better. That was fun!”
Blane chuckled, partly because the boy’s remark had surprised him, mostly because of his own relief.
XIV.
When Blane stepped out of the cabin, he stopped abruptly. Facing him at twenty paces, two hard-looking strangers sat atop their horses. All his experience told him these were ruthless men.
Blane felt a dark trace of fear. Instead of strapped around his waist, his gun belt hung on a hook inside the cabin!
TO BE CONTINUED
*****
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 4)
“It has been said that the value of prayer is purely subjective and that prayers have no effect beyond making people feel that God will help them. It is true that prayer has this reassuring effect on our troubled hearts, but the reason for this is that God has promised to hear the prayers of His children. He says, ‘I will deliver you’ (Psalm 50:15). The psalmist also writes: ‘He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He also will hear their cry and save them’ (Psalm 145:19). It is for this reason that ‘[t]he effective, fervent prayer of the righteous man avails much’ (James 5:16). Prayer does not work like a drug, merely to quiet the troubled hearts of those who pray. God actually answers prayer (Psalm 65:2). When Elijah prayed, ‘it did not rain on the land for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain’ (James 5:17-18). This was not a subjective delusion, it was an objective fact. We do not pray merely to calm ourselves. We call on the living God who is able and willing to help us (Psalm 50:15).”[1]
In some cases, God “may withhold His help to make us realize more fully how helpless we are or to teach us to call on Him more fervently (Mark 4:37-41; 7:25-30). But finally God will with everlasting kindness have mercy on us (Isaiah 54:7-8).”[2]
In the story, Blane prayed fervently for God to help the boy and for God to receive glory through the trial before them all. Later, upon examining the boy’s leg, Blane discovered that the wound was not as bad as he had first imagined. Although Blane was sure he had smelled gangrene initially, he found no sign of it later. He thought he had made a mistake and that the smell was only in his memory of the war.
Andy’s remark, however, brought Blane face to face with the reality that God, indeed, answers prayer.
[1]Edward W. A. Koehler, A Summary of Christian Doctrine, Third Revised Edition, New King James Version, ed. Brent W. Kuhlman (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006), p. 228
[2] Ibid.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 3)
VII.
Just before the two men entered the boy’s room, Blane stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Claude asked.
Blane held up the knife and the saw. “I don’t want the boy to see these before we’ve had a chance to talk to him.”
Claude nodded.
Blane stepped to the kettle and placed the items back into the boiling water. Then he reached down to the kettle holding the bark. He withdrew a piece about six inches long and about an inch thick.
When they entered the room, the boy was in a shallow, fitful sleep. Hearing the creak of a floorboard, he opened his eyes.
“Pa,” he said.
“Son, this man is here to help you.”
The boy’s gaze shifted to Blane.
“Hello, Andrew. Is that what they call you?”
The boy winced in pain. “Andy. They call me Andy.”
“Okay, Andy, I need to look at your leg.” He handed the piece of bark to the boy. “I want you to bite on this when it hurts. It’s important that you lie still, but you may not be able to. So, your father is going to tie a rope around you to help.”
A shock of fear came to the boy’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”
Blane sat down on the bed next to the boy. “I’m going to remove the bandages and examine your leg. I can’t promise it won’t hurt. So, bite down on the bark when it does.”
With that, Claude began wrapping the rope around the boy. Andy bit down on the bark and squirmed in panic.
Blane looked the boy in the eyes. “Son, do you trust your father?”
“Yes, I trust Pa.”
“Your Pa and I are here to help you. We want you to get well. Do you know a little prayer you can say?”
“Yes, I know a prayer.”
“Okay, son. Say that prayer over and over again. Relax as much as you can. When it hurts, you can cry. Even grown men cry. But you just keep saying that prayer over and over again while I look at your leg.”
The boy closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
The two men glanced at each other. Then Blane began peeling back the bandages.
VIII.
When the bandages on the boy’s leg were completely peeled away, Blane closely examined the wound.
The break was clean and about six inches below the knee. The skin had been punctured by the bones and was putrefied. As ugly as the wound was, Blane had seen worse.
He sat up, puzzled.
“What is it?” Claude asked.
“Did you try to reset the bones?”
“Yes I did. At the time, they felt like they were back in place. But Andy was in a lot of pain, so I only tried once.”
Blane reached up and felt the boy’s forehead. He removed his hand momentarily and then felt again. He touched the boy’s neck with his fingers and felt the pulse.
After a moment, he said, “Claude, come with me into the other room. Andy, you lie still. We’ll be back in to see you shortly.”
When the two men walked into the outer room, Blane turned to Claude. “The wound is not as bad as I thought it was. What I mean is that gangrene has not set in yet. But that is the next thing that will happen. The boy is running a fever, no question, but his pulse is strong.”
“Yeah, so what does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
With an edge to his voice, Claude demanded, “What do you mean you’re not sure? You told me you were sure!”
“Hold on a minute, Claude. Give me a chance to think.”
Blane sat down at the table and closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind. Momentarily, he opened his eyes and glanced at Claude who was glaring at him. “I’m going to step outside,” Blane said. “Take the boy some water. I’m sure he’s thirsty. Also, open the window and let some air into that room.”
When Blane stepped outside, the rain had stopped. He could see the back edge of the storm clouds that had moved to the east. Overhead, the sky was blue. The air smelled fresh and clean.
He sat down in a chair on the porch. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Then he rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Lord, help me,” he said.
Had he made a mistake? He thought back to when he had first entered the cabin earlier in the day. Once a person whiffs the unbearable smell of gangrene, he never forgets it. And Blane had been certain he smelled it. Now, he was not so sure. Was the smell only in his memory of the war?
Then again, perhaps none of that mattered. The boy’s infection was the problem. The infection had to be stopped, otherwise the boy would die.
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He continued to breathe deeply until his jittery nerves began to relax. In the moments that followed, he sought the Lord. God was with him, and God knew what to do. Blane listened for the still small voice.
After only a few moments, a picture began to occupy his mind. Christ was sitting on his throne in his heavenly glory. He was judging all the nations, which had been gathered before him. As a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, Christ directed some people to the right, some to the left. When he had finished, Christ turned to those on his right and said, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.” To those on his left, he said, “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”
When the people asked by what measure they had been judged, Christ told them that those on his right had cared for him when he was in need. Those on his left had not. The people asked, “When did we see you in need?” And he answered, “Whatever you did or did not do for the least [in the estimation of men] of my brethren, you did or did not do for me.”
The scene in Blane’s mind played twice more from beginning to end.
Without warning, his wife, Sarah, stood behind him and tenderly placed her hand on his shoulder. He felt her touch a split second before its meaning registered in his mind. When he realized what had happened, he sprang from the chair and turned. Anguish, love and fear filled his heart as he stared, wide-eyed, at the woman.
The woman was embarrassed. She began to apologize but was shocked by Blane’s expression. “What are you looking at?” she asked.
Her words snapped Blane back to reality. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, ma’am. For a moment, I thought you were someone else.”
“Who?” she asked.
Blane was silent. The woman had touched something within him that he thought he had buried.
“I startled you,” the woman said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, ma’am.”
“I got Amie to lie down and take a nap. I wanted to see if you and Claude needed anything. What’s going on?”
“I’ve examined the boy’s leg. It’s not as bad as I had imagined, but Andy’s got blood poisoning. I was praying for the Lord to show me what to do.”
The cabin door opened and Claude walked out onto the porch. “I heard voices,” he said.
“We were talking about the boy,” Blane said. “I’m sure of what to do now. We should get started right away.”
“What do you want me to do?” the woman asked.
“Go back to the barn and stay close to your daughter. Claude, you come with me.”
IX.
In the barn, Blane lay on his blanket atop a bed of straw he had gathered. His eyes were closed but he could not sleep. He felt uneasy. The Black, tied close by, lowered his head to within a few inches of his face. Hearing the animal’s breath, he opened his eyes and rubbed the horse’s nose. “It’s okay, boy.”
Blane got up and walked to a wooden bench where he sat down. The sound of Andy’s haunting screams earlier in the day filtered through his mind. Thankfully, that part of the ordeal was over.
Just then, he heard the barn door open.
“I brought you some food,” the woman said. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
“Thanks, ma’am, but I don’t feel like eating. How’s Andy doing?”
The woman placed the plate of food beside him and sat down. “Andy’s lying quietly. He’s still feverish. I had him drink some of the mixture you made with the bark. He said it tasted terrible.”
“It doesn’t taste good, but you must get him to drink as much of it as he can. Hopefully, it will help knock down the infection. Mostly, though, it’s up to Andy. Thankfully, he is young and strong.”
The two sat silently for several moments.
“Do you have everything you need to bed down for the night?” the woman asked finally.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘ma’am’ all the time. My name is Faye.”
Blane turned and looked at her. She was younger than Claude. She wore her hair up. It was long, coal black and shiny. Her face was smooth and symmetrical. Wide, bright blue eyes looked through the gold rims of her glasses. Her high cheek bones, straight jaw line and full lips made her pleasing to look at.
Blane’s gaze unconsciously fell to her hands. He remembered her tender touch on his shoulder. It had reminded him of something he had felt what seemed like so long ago.
When Blane’s silence made her feel the awkwardness of the moment, Faye said, “I’ll leave the plate. Try to eat something.”
As she cracked open the barn door, she turned and looked at him. Then she stepped out.
Blane sat quietly for a moment. The smell of fried chicken rose to his nostrils and he looked down at the plate. He picked it up and ate every bite.
Then he lay down on his bedroll and fell sound asleep.
X.
A narrow ray of sunlight shining through a crack in the wall awakened Blane to the sound of chirping birds. He sat up, alert.
When he walked outside, the fresh morning air brightened his spirit. Silently, he said a prayer of praise to the Lord.
At the water trough, he removed his hat and shirt. He pumped a generous stream of clear water and placed his entire head under the flow. Then he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. After straightening up and stretching, he put his shirt and hat back on.
He walked to the cabin door and knocked. After a moment, Faye opened the door. “Good morning,” she said. “Come in. Andy and Amie are still asleep. Claude left early to check on the crops. He usually stays away all day, but he said he would come in about noon today.”
Blane nodded. “I want to check on Andy as soon as he wakes up.”
The woman did not respond. Her silence caused him to turn and look at her.
She drew in a breath. Then she said, “I need to talk to you.”
TO BE CONTINUED
*****
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 3)
Blane’s vision was of the Last Day when Christ will sit on his heavenly throne. Everyone will be gathered before him for the Final Judgment and Christ will separate us into two groups.
It is a mistake to think God’s judgment is determined whereby “good” people are sent to heaven and “bad” people are sent to hell. By such measure none of us would go to heaven, because all of us sin.
Yet, according to Matthew 25:31-46, those sent to heaven cared for Christ’s needs (good works approved by God) and those sent to hell did not (absence of good works approved by God).
“Two things are necessary for any work to qualify as a good work before God. First, it must conform to God’s Law (we cannot sin to the glory of God [Romans 2:23-24; 6:1]). Second, [a good work] must proceed from the proper motive.”[1]
“Unbelievers can comply with the letter of the Law to some degree and bring about a civil righteousness. They may be praised by people for their generosity, moral purity, and honesty, ‘for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.’ (1 Samuel 16:7). It is the attitude of the heart that determines the ethical value of a work. The only motive recognized by God is selfless love, that is, the love of God. Such love is the fruit of faith. This is found only in believers. Jesus says, ‘He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing’ (John 15:5).”[2] [Emphasis added.] Therefore, the unconverted cannot do good works. Even so-called righteous acts by Christians are like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). “But for Christ’s sake, even these imperfect spiritual sacrifices [by Christians] are acceptable to God (1 Peter 2:5).”[3]
[1] Edward W. A. Koehler, A Summary of Christian Doctrine, Third Revised Edition, New King James Version, ed. Brent W. Kuhlman (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006), p. 217
[2] Ibid., p. 219
[3] Ibid.
Just before the two men entered the boy’s room, Blane stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Claude asked.
Blane held up the knife and the saw. “I don’t want the boy to see these before we’ve had a chance to talk to him.”
Claude nodded.
Blane stepped to the kettle and placed the items back into the boiling water. Then he reached down to the kettle holding the bark. He withdrew a piece about six inches long and about an inch thick.
When they entered the room, the boy was in a shallow, fitful sleep. Hearing the creak of a floorboard, he opened his eyes.
“Pa,” he said.
“Son, this man is here to help you.”
The boy’s gaze shifted to Blane.
“Hello, Andrew. Is that what they call you?”
The boy winced in pain. “Andy. They call me Andy.”
“Okay, Andy, I need to look at your leg.” He handed the piece of bark to the boy. “I want you to bite on this when it hurts. It’s important that you lie still, but you may not be able to. So, your father is going to tie a rope around you to help.”
A shock of fear came to the boy’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”
Blane sat down on the bed next to the boy. “I’m going to remove the bandages and examine your leg. I can’t promise it won’t hurt. So, bite down on the bark when it does.”
With that, Claude began wrapping the rope around the boy. Andy bit down on the bark and squirmed in panic.
Blane looked the boy in the eyes. “Son, do you trust your father?”
“Yes, I trust Pa.”
“Your Pa and I are here to help you. We want you to get well. Do you know a little prayer you can say?”
“Yes, I know a prayer.”
“Okay, son. Say that prayer over and over again. Relax as much as you can. When it hurts, you can cry. Even grown men cry. But you just keep saying that prayer over and over again while I look at your leg.”
The boy closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
The two men glanced at each other. Then Blane began peeling back the bandages.
VIII.
When the bandages on the boy’s leg were completely peeled away, Blane closely examined the wound.
The break was clean and about six inches below the knee. The skin had been punctured by the bones and was putrefied. As ugly as the wound was, Blane had seen worse.
He sat up, puzzled.
“What is it?” Claude asked.
“Did you try to reset the bones?”
“Yes I did. At the time, they felt like they were back in place. But Andy was in a lot of pain, so I only tried once.”
Blane reached up and felt the boy’s forehead. He removed his hand momentarily and then felt again. He touched the boy’s neck with his fingers and felt the pulse.
After a moment, he said, “Claude, come with me into the other room. Andy, you lie still. We’ll be back in to see you shortly.”
When the two men walked into the outer room, Blane turned to Claude. “The wound is not as bad as I thought it was. What I mean is that gangrene has not set in yet. But that is the next thing that will happen. The boy is running a fever, no question, but his pulse is strong.”
“Yeah, so what does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
With an edge to his voice, Claude demanded, “What do you mean you’re not sure? You told me you were sure!”
“Hold on a minute, Claude. Give me a chance to think.”
Blane sat down at the table and closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind. Momentarily, he opened his eyes and glanced at Claude who was glaring at him. “I’m going to step outside,” Blane said. “Take the boy some water. I’m sure he’s thirsty. Also, open the window and let some air into that room.”
When Blane stepped outside, the rain had stopped. He could see the back edge of the storm clouds that had moved to the east. Overhead, the sky was blue. The air smelled fresh and clean.
He sat down in a chair on the porch. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Then he rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Lord, help me,” he said.
Had he made a mistake? He thought back to when he had first entered the cabin earlier in the day. Once a person whiffs the unbearable smell of gangrene, he never forgets it. And Blane had been certain he smelled it. Now, he was not so sure. Was the smell only in his memory of the war?
Then again, perhaps none of that mattered. The boy’s infection was the problem. The infection had to be stopped, otherwise the boy would die.
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He continued to breathe deeply until his jittery nerves began to relax. In the moments that followed, he sought the Lord. God was with him, and God knew what to do. Blane listened for the still small voice.
After only a few moments, a picture began to occupy his mind. Christ was sitting on his throne in his heavenly glory. He was judging all the nations, which had been gathered before him. As a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, Christ directed some people to the right, some to the left. When he had finished, Christ turned to those on his right and said, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.” To those on his left, he said, “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”
When the people asked by what measure they had been judged, Christ told them that those on his right had cared for him when he was in need. Those on his left had not. The people asked, “When did we see you in need?” And he answered, “Whatever you did or did not do for the least [in the estimation of men] of my brethren, you did or did not do for me.”
The scene in Blane’s mind played twice more from beginning to end.
Without warning, his wife, Sarah, stood behind him and tenderly placed her hand on his shoulder. He felt her touch a split second before its meaning registered in his mind. When he realized what had happened, he sprang from the chair and turned. Anguish, love and fear filled his heart as he stared, wide-eyed, at the woman.
The woman was embarrassed. She began to apologize but was shocked by Blane’s expression. “What are you looking at?” she asked.
Her words snapped Blane back to reality. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, ma’am. For a moment, I thought you were someone else.”
“Who?” she asked.
Blane was silent. The woman had touched something within him that he thought he had buried.
“I startled you,” the woman said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, ma’am.”
“I got Amie to lie down and take a nap. I wanted to see if you and Claude needed anything. What’s going on?”
“I’ve examined the boy’s leg. It’s not as bad as I had imagined, but Andy’s got blood poisoning. I was praying for the Lord to show me what to do.”
The cabin door opened and Claude walked out onto the porch. “I heard voices,” he said.
“We were talking about the boy,” Blane said. “I’m sure of what to do now. We should get started right away.”
“What do you want me to do?” the woman asked.
“Go back to the barn and stay close to your daughter. Claude, you come with me.”
IX.
In the barn, Blane lay on his blanket atop a bed of straw he had gathered. His eyes were closed but he could not sleep. He felt uneasy. The Black, tied close by, lowered his head to within a few inches of his face. Hearing the animal’s breath, he opened his eyes and rubbed the horse’s nose. “It’s okay, boy.”
Blane got up and walked to a wooden bench where he sat down. The sound of Andy’s haunting screams earlier in the day filtered through his mind. Thankfully, that part of the ordeal was over.
Just then, he heard the barn door open.
“I brought you some food,” the woman said. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
“Thanks, ma’am, but I don’t feel like eating. How’s Andy doing?”
The woman placed the plate of food beside him and sat down. “Andy’s lying quietly. He’s still feverish. I had him drink some of the mixture you made with the bark. He said it tasted terrible.”
“It doesn’t taste good, but you must get him to drink as much of it as he can. Hopefully, it will help knock down the infection. Mostly, though, it’s up to Andy. Thankfully, he is young and strong.”
The two sat silently for several moments.
“Do you have everything you need to bed down for the night?” the woman asked finally.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘ma’am’ all the time. My name is Faye.”
Blane turned and looked at her. She was younger than Claude. She wore her hair up. It was long, coal black and shiny. Her face was smooth and symmetrical. Wide, bright blue eyes looked through the gold rims of her glasses. Her high cheek bones, straight jaw line and full lips made her pleasing to look at.
Blane’s gaze unconsciously fell to her hands. He remembered her tender touch on his shoulder. It had reminded him of something he had felt what seemed like so long ago.
When Blane’s silence made her feel the awkwardness of the moment, Faye said, “I’ll leave the plate. Try to eat something.”
As she cracked open the barn door, she turned and looked at him. Then she stepped out.
Blane sat quietly for a moment. The smell of fried chicken rose to his nostrils and he looked down at the plate. He picked it up and ate every bite.
Then he lay down on his bedroll and fell sound asleep.
X.
A narrow ray of sunlight shining through a crack in the wall awakened Blane to the sound of chirping birds. He sat up, alert.
When he walked outside, the fresh morning air brightened his spirit. Silently, he said a prayer of praise to the Lord.
At the water trough, he removed his hat and shirt. He pumped a generous stream of clear water and placed his entire head under the flow. Then he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. After straightening up and stretching, he put his shirt and hat back on.
He walked to the cabin door and knocked. After a moment, Faye opened the door. “Good morning,” she said. “Come in. Andy and Amie are still asleep. Claude left early to check on the crops. He usually stays away all day, but he said he would come in about noon today.”
Blane nodded. “I want to check on Andy as soon as he wakes up.”
The woman did not respond. Her silence caused him to turn and look at her.
She drew in a breath. Then she said, “I need to talk to you.”
TO BE CONTINUED
*****
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 3)
Blane’s vision was of the Last Day when Christ will sit on his heavenly throne. Everyone will be gathered before him for the Final Judgment and Christ will separate us into two groups.
It is a mistake to think God’s judgment is determined whereby “good” people are sent to heaven and “bad” people are sent to hell. By such measure none of us would go to heaven, because all of us sin.
Yet, according to Matthew 25:31-46, those sent to heaven cared for Christ’s needs (good works approved by God) and those sent to hell did not (absence of good works approved by God).
“Two things are necessary for any work to qualify as a good work before God. First, it must conform to God’s Law (we cannot sin to the glory of God [Romans 2:23-24; 6:1]). Second, [a good work] must proceed from the proper motive.”[1]
“Unbelievers can comply with the letter of the Law to some degree and bring about a civil righteousness. They may be praised by people for their generosity, moral purity, and honesty, ‘for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.’ (1 Samuel 16:7). It is the attitude of the heart that determines the ethical value of a work. The only motive recognized by God is selfless love, that is, the love of God. Such love is the fruit of faith. This is found only in believers. Jesus says, ‘He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing’ (John 15:5).”[2] [Emphasis added.] Therefore, the unconverted cannot do good works. Even so-called righteous acts by Christians are like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). “But for Christ’s sake, even these imperfect spiritual sacrifices [by Christians] are acceptable to God (1 Peter 2:5).”[3]
[1] Edward W. A. Koehler, A Summary of Christian Doctrine, Third Revised Edition, New King James Version, ed. Brent W. Kuhlman (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006), p. 217
[2] Ibid., p. 219
[3] Ibid.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 2)
III.
Blane ran into the barn. There, he examined the wagon. It was rickety and would not stand up to hard driving. In his frustration with the poor condition of the wagon, he suddenly remembered something: something that quickly turned his frustration into fear.
During Blane’s last visit to Abilene, Doc Minnick had mentioned a trip back to his boyhood home in Iowa. A quick calculation told Blane the doctor would not return for another week!
Blane stopped cold. His shoulders slumped and he stared at the ground. All hope for the boy to receive help in Abilene had vanished.
Blane stood motionless for several moments. Instinctively, he had known all along that hard travel for the boy was too risky. Silently, he scolded himself. His own panic nearly caused what probably would have been a fatal mistake.
Blane also knew that panic signifies doubt. Being honest, he admitted he had recently neglected to nurture his faith. He had spent too many hours performing administrative duties and not enough time in study and prayer. Now, in a crisis, his faith was weak.
He felt ashamed. He recalled handing a Bible to Zeke, the storekeeper. Yet, he had neglected his own faith for too long. He felt vulnerable and afraid. He wanted to run but knew no way to escape.
He knelt to the ground. Sorrow filled him through and through. He asked God to forgive him. Then he asked for God, through Jesus Christ, to strengthen his faith.
At that moment, he heard the barn door open and he looked up.
The woman was soaked with rain. Rivulets of water fell to the ground from the hem of her dress. She stood, looking at him, but did not speak.
Blane slowly got to his feet. His chest felt heavy as he drew in a deep breath. “The leg has to come off,” he said.
The woman closed her eyes and swallowed hard. In a broken voice, she asked, “What can I do to help?”
Her courage almost made him cry.
After a moment, she asked, “Then, will my son live?”
“Ma’am, we must do all that is in our power to do. God is with us this very instant. In His Word, He promised to never leave us. Let us know He will do what’s right.”
“I’ll boil some water.”
“Yes, boil lots of water. Also, we’ll need a sharp knife and a.…” His voice trailed off.
“A what?” she asked.
He was reluctant to say the word aloud. “A saw.”
The woman cupped her face with her hands and wept. Finally, she raised her arm and pointed. “It’s over against the wall.”
Blane nodded. Then he approached the Black and gave him a few pats on the chest. “Easy, boy.” He grabbed the saddle and swung it up onto the horse’s back.
Surprised, the woman asked, “Where are you going?”
“Listen carefully. Here’s what I want you to do. Take your husband and your little girl. Scrub the boy’s room with soap and water from top to bottom. Make the water as hot as you can stand it. Then place the knife and the saw into boiling water and let them soak. We’ll also need good whiskey if you’ve got it.”
Blane quickly led the Black out of the barn. The rain was pouring! He swung up into the saddle in one easy motion. Pulling his hat down tight on his head, he yelled, “Get busy! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With spurs to flesh, the Black bolted into his fastest run, mud slinging from his hooves.
IV.
Blane let the horse have his head. Exhilarated by hard exercise, the Black liked to run. After a quarter mile, Blane reigned in. The Black slowed to a fast trot. Just ahead, a thick row of trees bordered a creek.
The rain fell in a steady stream of plump, heavy drops. The air was cool and calm. To the south and west, a ribbon of gold light accented the edge of the clouds. Beyond that, Blane could see blue sky.
Reaching the stand of trees, Blane swung down from the saddle. Through the mud, he walked to a massive tree with thick, striped bark running from top to bottom. With his knife, he stripped off a generous amount of bark.
When he picked up the pile, he remembered his saddlebags. He had left them in the farmer’s house. He quickly stripped down to his bare chest. He placed the bark into his undershirt and tied it up. Then he donned his shirt, vest and slicker, again.
Swinging up onto the Black, he trotted the animal further into the stand of trees. After a time, he dismounted. He walked to a tree with leaves that resembled a person’s hand with the fingers spread. Again, he collected a generous amount of bark. Then he added it to the undershirt and tied the edges.
Through all the activities, Blane was aware of time. He worked thoroughly, but quickly. Continuously, he prayed: for God to strengthen the boy’s family; for God to help the boy; for God to receive glory through the trial before them all.
Mounting the Black, he pivoted the horse and gave two quick jabs with his spurs. “Let’s go, boy!”
For the first few moments, Blane leaned well forward. It was good to hold on tight when the Black was at full speed.
Blane mentally reviewed what he knew about the medical procedure he planned to perform. It was important that he remember what he had learned during his time as a field medic in the Union Army.
Although the war had ended seven years ago, the sights, sounds and smells of the conflict were as vivid now as they had been when they happened.
As a young man who joined the Army at sixteen, Blane had grown up in a hurry. As a medic, he had seen enough death and dying for the lifetimes of a dozen men. Ironically, his caring for and transporting the wounded probably saved his life. Had he been a fighting soldier, he figured he would have been killed alongside the 620,000 who died in the war.
Mostly, he had driven an ambulance wagon. He had grown to hate entering hospital tents whenever they were erected. The smell of death and disease hung in the stagnant air, like thick fog in a musty swamp.
Whenever he was not driving the team of horses that pulled the wagon, he assisted the doctors in various ways. Although he had never performed an amputation, he had seen it done countless times. The piles of amputated limbs sometimes grew so large they had to be removed by the wagon load.
When the war ended, Blane settled in St. Louis. He secured a job at a hospital where he met Sarah. They fell in love and were married. He had always wanted a family.
When Sarah told Blane she was pregnant, he kissed her and held her tightly. But Sarah’s pregnancy grew increasingly difficult. When she gave birth, the baby was stillborn. Sarah, herself, had grown deathly ill. Within hours after the birth, she died in Blane’s arms.
The impact of Sarah’s and the baby’s death was devastating. Blane was only able to relieve the pain of his loss through a bottle. His alcoholism almost killed him on several occasions, yet he did not care.
Within a short time, the hospital had fired him and he had squandered all his savings on booze. He began living in the streets, begging for money to buy liquor. Finally, his time had run out. He lay in the gutter, dying. And there, his life would have ended had it not been for a preacher, Reverend Henry Talbot, who happened by.
Talbot was moved with compassion when he saw the dying drunk. “Hey, fella, can you get to your feet?”
When Blane did not respond, Talbot picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. He carried Blane to his living quarters in back of the church. When the doctor arrived, he recognized the man lying before him. “Reverend,” the doctor said, “this man is worthless. I’ve treated him several times, but he continues to drink himself to death.”
Blane, in and out of consciousness, heard Talbot’s reply. “Doctor, it is just for such a sinner that Christ died on the cross. Now, you do all you can for him!”
That night was the turning point for Blane. That night he began his recovery. And that night he set foot on the path to a life of service to his Redeemer.
V.
When Blane arrived back at the cabin, the preparations had been made. The boy’s room had been scrubbed clean from top to bottom. Two kettles of boiling water hung over the fireplace. One kettle contained the knife and the saw. The other contained water for sterilizing dressings and for washing. Additionally, smaller, empty kettles sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. A full bottle of whiskey sat on the mantle.
Along with his undershirt filled with bark, Blane had brought in a length of strong rope. During the War of the Rebellion, he had watched doctors use chloroform or ether to anesthetize patients. Without such chemicals, the boy would have to be tied down tightly.
The man, woman and little girl were sitting at the table. Blane took the fourth seat, silently acknowledging that it was where the boy normally sat before the accident.
Blane noticed their faces. The little girl remained silent, but looked with confusion from one adult to the next. She could hardly be aware of what was about to happen. The woman’s face was drawn with sorrow.
When his gaze met the man’s, Blane said, “I’m going to ask you to come in and help me. I think it’s best that your wife and daughter go to the barn until we’re done.”
The man looked at his wife who had turned to face him. The man nodded slowly. “You’ll have to see to Amie.”
All right,” the woman said.
Without another word, Blane folded his hands and bowed his head. The others did likewise. “Heavenly Father, we are deeply sorry for our sins. We ask for and we humbly receive your forgiveness. Help us now, dear Lord, in our time of need. From your Word, we know all things work together for good to them that love God. We proclaim our love for you now and always. Thank you for your endless mercies, for your goodness, and for your grace. We trust in You, Father, for the right outcome. In the precious name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Then he stood from the chair. The woman took Amie by the hand and led her out the door.
Blane turned to the man. “I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Claude, and my boy’s name is Andrew.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, Claude. Will I be able to count on you when the going gets tough?”
“Parson, my wife explained to me what you plan to do. She said it is the only way our son will live. Are you sure about all of this?”
“That’s a fair question, Claude. The answer is I only know one thing for sure. If your son stays as he is, he will die, and die quickly.”
“But taking his leg. Are you sure it’s necessary?”
Blane nodded solemnly. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Claude.”
“Parson, if you do this, can you guarantee my boy will live?”
“No, I can’t. The truth is I saw many men in the war that had legs amputated, and they still died. Blood poisoning is what killed them. Once we take the leg, the real battle will be against the infection.”
Claude was silent for a long moment. Then he looked up. “I want what’s best for my son.”
“Claude, I know this is hard. Can I count on you to remain strong?”
“Yes, Parson, you can count on me.”
VI.
Blane poured some boiling water into one of the empty kettles that sat on the floor. Then he placed the bark into the water. Into the next kettle, he poured boiling water and put in a few wash cloths that the woman had left. Into a third kettle, he poured boiling water and put in the rope.
Then the two men painstakingly washed their hands with soap and extremely hot water.
When Blane pulled the rope from the kettle, he asked, “Will you do this, or do you want me to do it?”
With resignation, the man said, “I’ll do it.”
Blane removed the knife and the saw from the kettle. “Okay, Claude, let’s get started.”
TO BE CONTINUED
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 2)
Faith in Christ affords peace of mind, because faith is the antidote to the burden of guilt instinctively felt by sinners. Faith in Christ also affords comfort to the soul, because faith is the vessel that holds God’s promise of eternity in heaven.
Importantly, faith in Christ, according to Ephesians 6:16, is a shield that protects one from life’s “flaming arrows.”
When an individual faces a crisis, upon whom or what does he rely to help meet the challenge? Those who do not possess saving faith must rely on personal resources, such as character, money and influence. Adverse circumstances, however, pose danger when they require something greater than human resources.
When a beloved child is near death, for example, what personal powers can a mother and father employ to save their child? Knowing that, had it been possible, they would have sacrificed themselves for the life of their child, upon whom do they call when the child dies?
In a crisis, we may recognize that life is bigger than any of us; bigger, in fact, than all of us. With that realization, would we trade all of our personal powers for the help of God, whose power is bigger than life itself?
For those who have saving faith already, it must be nurtured.[1] Not because it is fragile, but because we are fragile. The strong in faith are better able to repel the flaming arrows of life.
In the story, a life-or-death crisis forces Blane to admit he has neglected his faith. With remorse, he asks God to forgive him and to strengthen his faith. Then, with renewed faith, Blane is no longer occupied with doubts and fears. Rather he leaps into action to do what must be done.
[1] Faith is nurtured by hearing, reading or remembering the Gospel, which is the good news that Christ died for the forgiveness of sins.
Blane ran into the barn. There, he examined the wagon. It was rickety and would not stand up to hard driving. In his frustration with the poor condition of the wagon, he suddenly remembered something: something that quickly turned his frustration into fear.
During Blane’s last visit to Abilene, Doc Minnick had mentioned a trip back to his boyhood home in Iowa. A quick calculation told Blane the doctor would not return for another week!
Blane stopped cold. His shoulders slumped and he stared at the ground. All hope for the boy to receive help in Abilene had vanished.
Blane stood motionless for several moments. Instinctively, he had known all along that hard travel for the boy was too risky. Silently, he scolded himself. His own panic nearly caused what probably would have been a fatal mistake.
Blane also knew that panic signifies doubt. Being honest, he admitted he had recently neglected to nurture his faith. He had spent too many hours performing administrative duties and not enough time in study and prayer. Now, in a crisis, his faith was weak.
He felt ashamed. He recalled handing a Bible to Zeke, the storekeeper. Yet, he had neglected his own faith for too long. He felt vulnerable and afraid. He wanted to run but knew no way to escape.
He knelt to the ground. Sorrow filled him through and through. He asked God to forgive him. Then he asked for God, through Jesus Christ, to strengthen his faith.
At that moment, he heard the barn door open and he looked up.
The woman was soaked with rain. Rivulets of water fell to the ground from the hem of her dress. She stood, looking at him, but did not speak.
Blane slowly got to his feet. His chest felt heavy as he drew in a deep breath. “The leg has to come off,” he said.
The woman closed her eyes and swallowed hard. In a broken voice, she asked, “What can I do to help?”
Her courage almost made him cry.
After a moment, she asked, “Then, will my son live?”
“Ma’am, we must do all that is in our power to do. God is with us this very instant. In His Word, He promised to never leave us. Let us know He will do what’s right.”
“I’ll boil some water.”
“Yes, boil lots of water. Also, we’ll need a sharp knife and a.…” His voice trailed off.
“A what?” she asked.
He was reluctant to say the word aloud. “A saw.”
The woman cupped her face with her hands and wept. Finally, she raised her arm and pointed. “It’s over against the wall.”
Blane nodded. Then he approached the Black and gave him a few pats on the chest. “Easy, boy.” He grabbed the saddle and swung it up onto the horse’s back.
Surprised, the woman asked, “Where are you going?”
“Listen carefully. Here’s what I want you to do. Take your husband and your little girl. Scrub the boy’s room with soap and water from top to bottom. Make the water as hot as you can stand it. Then place the knife and the saw into boiling water and let them soak. We’ll also need good whiskey if you’ve got it.”
Blane quickly led the Black out of the barn. The rain was pouring! He swung up into the saddle in one easy motion. Pulling his hat down tight on his head, he yelled, “Get busy! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With spurs to flesh, the Black bolted into his fastest run, mud slinging from his hooves.
IV.
Blane let the horse have his head. Exhilarated by hard exercise, the Black liked to run. After a quarter mile, Blane reigned in. The Black slowed to a fast trot. Just ahead, a thick row of trees bordered a creek.
The rain fell in a steady stream of plump, heavy drops. The air was cool and calm. To the south and west, a ribbon of gold light accented the edge of the clouds. Beyond that, Blane could see blue sky.
Reaching the stand of trees, Blane swung down from the saddle. Through the mud, he walked to a massive tree with thick, striped bark running from top to bottom. With his knife, he stripped off a generous amount of bark.
When he picked up the pile, he remembered his saddlebags. He had left them in the farmer’s house. He quickly stripped down to his bare chest. He placed the bark into his undershirt and tied it up. Then he donned his shirt, vest and slicker, again.
Swinging up onto the Black, he trotted the animal further into the stand of trees. After a time, he dismounted. He walked to a tree with leaves that resembled a person’s hand with the fingers spread. Again, he collected a generous amount of bark. Then he added it to the undershirt and tied the edges.
Through all the activities, Blane was aware of time. He worked thoroughly, but quickly. Continuously, he prayed: for God to strengthen the boy’s family; for God to help the boy; for God to receive glory through the trial before them all.
Mounting the Black, he pivoted the horse and gave two quick jabs with his spurs. “Let’s go, boy!”
For the first few moments, Blane leaned well forward. It was good to hold on tight when the Black was at full speed.
Blane mentally reviewed what he knew about the medical procedure he planned to perform. It was important that he remember what he had learned during his time as a field medic in the Union Army.
Although the war had ended seven years ago, the sights, sounds and smells of the conflict were as vivid now as they had been when they happened.
As a young man who joined the Army at sixteen, Blane had grown up in a hurry. As a medic, he had seen enough death and dying for the lifetimes of a dozen men. Ironically, his caring for and transporting the wounded probably saved his life. Had he been a fighting soldier, he figured he would have been killed alongside the 620,000 who died in the war.
Mostly, he had driven an ambulance wagon. He had grown to hate entering hospital tents whenever they were erected. The smell of death and disease hung in the stagnant air, like thick fog in a musty swamp.
Whenever he was not driving the team of horses that pulled the wagon, he assisted the doctors in various ways. Although he had never performed an amputation, he had seen it done countless times. The piles of amputated limbs sometimes grew so large they had to be removed by the wagon load.
When the war ended, Blane settled in St. Louis. He secured a job at a hospital where he met Sarah. They fell in love and were married. He had always wanted a family.
When Sarah told Blane she was pregnant, he kissed her and held her tightly. But Sarah’s pregnancy grew increasingly difficult. When she gave birth, the baby was stillborn. Sarah, herself, had grown deathly ill. Within hours after the birth, she died in Blane’s arms.
The impact of Sarah’s and the baby’s death was devastating. Blane was only able to relieve the pain of his loss through a bottle. His alcoholism almost killed him on several occasions, yet he did not care.
Within a short time, the hospital had fired him and he had squandered all his savings on booze. He began living in the streets, begging for money to buy liquor. Finally, his time had run out. He lay in the gutter, dying. And there, his life would have ended had it not been for a preacher, Reverend Henry Talbot, who happened by.
Talbot was moved with compassion when he saw the dying drunk. “Hey, fella, can you get to your feet?”
When Blane did not respond, Talbot picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. He carried Blane to his living quarters in back of the church. When the doctor arrived, he recognized the man lying before him. “Reverend,” the doctor said, “this man is worthless. I’ve treated him several times, but he continues to drink himself to death.”
Blane, in and out of consciousness, heard Talbot’s reply. “Doctor, it is just for such a sinner that Christ died on the cross. Now, you do all you can for him!”
That night was the turning point for Blane. That night he began his recovery. And that night he set foot on the path to a life of service to his Redeemer.
V.
When Blane arrived back at the cabin, the preparations had been made. The boy’s room had been scrubbed clean from top to bottom. Two kettles of boiling water hung over the fireplace. One kettle contained the knife and the saw. The other contained water for sterilizing dressings and for washing. Additionally, smaller, empty kettles sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. A full bottle of whiskey sat on the mantle.
Along with his undershirt filled with bark, Blane had brought in a length of strong rope. During the War of the Rebellion, he had watched doctors use chloroform or ether to anesthetize patients. Without such chemicals, the boy would have to be tied down tightly.
The man, woman and little girl were sitting at the table. Blane took the fourth seat, silently acknowledging that it was where the boy normally sat before the accident.
Blane noticed their faces. The little girl remained silent, but looked with confusion from one adult to the next. She could hardly be aware of what was about to happen. The woman’s face was drawn with sorrow.
When his gaze met the man’s, Blane said, “I’m going to ask you to come in and help me. I think it’s best that your wife and daughter go to the barn until we’re done.”
The man looked at his wife who had turned to face him. The man nodded slowly. “You’ll have to see to Amie.”
All right,” the woman said.
Without another word, Blane folded his hands and bowed his head. The others did likewise. “Heavenly Father, we are deeply sorry for our sins. We ask for and we humbly receive your forgiveness. Help us now, dear Lord, in our time of need. From your Word, we know all things work together for good to them that love God. We proclaim our love for you now and always. Thank you for your endless mercies, for your goodness, and for your grace. We trust in You, Father, for the right outcome. In the precious name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Blane drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Then he stood from the chair. The woman took Amie by the hand and led her out the door.
Blane turned to the man. “I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Claude, and my boy’s name is Andrew.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, Claude. Will I be able to count on you when the going gets tough?”
“Parson, my wife explained to me what you plan to do. She said it is the only way our son will live. Are you sure about all of this?”
“That’s a fair question, Claude. The answer is I only know one thing for sure. If your son stays as he is, he will die, and die quickly.”
“But taking his leg. Are you sure it’s necessary?”
Blane nodded solemnly. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Claude.”
“Parson, if you do this, can you guarantee my boy will live?”
“No, I can’t. The truth is I saw many men in the war that had legs amputated, and they still died. Blood poisoning is what killed them. Once we take the leg, the real battle will be against the infection.”
Claude was silent for a long moment. Then he looked up. “I want what’s best for my son.”
“Claude, I know this is hard. Can I count on you to remain strong?”
“Yes, Parson, you can count on me.”
VI.
Blane poured some boiling water into one of the empty kettles that sat on the floor. Then he placed the bark into the water. Into the next kettle, he poured boiling water and put in a few wash cloths that the woman had left. Into a third kettle, he poured boiling water and put in the rope.
Then the two men painstakingly washed their hands with soap and extremely hot water.
When Blane pulled the rope from the kettle, he asked, “Will you do this, or do you want me to do it?”
With resignation, the man said, “I’ll do it.”
Blane removed the knife and the saw from the kettle. “Okay, Claude, let’s get started.”
TO BE CONTINUED
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 2)
Faith in Christ affords peace of mind, because faith is the antidote to the burden of guilt instinctively felt by sinners. Faith in Christ also affords comfort to the soul, because faith is the vessel that holds God’s promise of eternity in heaven.
Importantly, faith in Christ, according to Ephesians 6:16, is a shield that protects one from life’s “flaming arrows.”
When an individual faces a crisis, upon whom or what does he rely to help meet the challenge? Those who do not possess saving faith must rely on personal resources, such as character, money and influence. Adverse circumstances, however, pose danger when they require something greater than human resources.
When a beloved child is near death, for example, what personal powers can a mother and father employ to save their child? Knowing that, had it been possible, they would have sacrificed themselves for the life of their child, upon whom do they call when the child dies?
In a crisis, we may recognize that life is bigger than any of us; bigger, in fact, than all of us. With that realization, would we trade all of our personal powers for the help of God, whose power is bigger than life itself?
For those who have saving faith already, it must be nurtured.[1] Not because it is fragile, but because we are fragile. The strong in faith are better able to repel the flaming arrows of life.
In the story, a life-or-death crisis forces Blane to admit he has neglected his faith. With remorse, he asks God to forgive him and to strengthen his faith. Then, with renewed faith, Blane is no longer occupied with doubts and fears. Rather he leaps into action to do what must be done.
[1] Faith is nurtured by hearing, reading or remembering the Gospel, which is the good news that Christ died for the forgiveness of sins.
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