"Cowboy Code"

No one had a cell phone,

So they couldn’t make a video,

When that little bay plumb bucked me off,

The one called Cotton Eyed Joe.

No one but my brother,

Saw him pitch me to the ground,

And then just stood there lookin’,

Like he was lost, then found.

Nobody took a picture,

When we caught that brangus heifer,

She could run like a scalded deer,

And I mean hell for leather.

But I laced her horns, got lucky,

And my brother heeled her, done,

Our Mama clapped like crazy,

And it sure was lots of fun.

Or the time our friend roped a goat,

And tied him down just fine,

But his gelding spooked and ran away,

With the goat mid-air behind.

Hit our friend about his knees,

At ninety miles an hour,

Somersaulted on his head,

Man, that goat had power.

And many other memories,

That we have no record of,

Did they ever really happen,

When push comes down to shove.

Sure they did, and a whole lot more,

But if we don’t write ‘em down,

The stories will just fade away,

When we go and aren’t around.

But, no, I never roped an armadillo,

Even though I threw my loop,

Derned thing ran right through it,

But if I did, I’d whoop.

The grand old cowboy way ain’t dead,

But it lives far from the road,

And if you can go live it, too,

And learn the cowboy code.

“But how can they call on Him to save them unless they believe in Him? And how can they believe in Him if they have never heard about Him? And how can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?” (Romans 10:14, NLT).

Telling stories keeps truth alive. The cowboy stories we tell help to preserve a way of life that we believe is an important part of our country’s history. And as long as cattle are needed, someone will be needed to care for them. But spiritually this principle is even more important. Paul asks how people can believe in the Lord unless someone tells them. It’s up to us to share the story of what God has done in our lives so that the Good News gets out! We live it so we can share it with credibility.

Lord, help us share Your story, in Jesus’ name.

Art by Mary Ross Buchholz, used by permission. Thanks, Mary, and God bless you.