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.
