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.