–James Leonard  (The Good Guy)

 

Pard, there’s strange things happenin’ in the land.  And let me tell yuh something else, there’s a bunch of fools and I’m rightly thinkin’ some of them are demon possessed.  Oh, sorry, let me be fillin’ yur cup.  Don’t mean to be givin’ yuh the grief of my thoughts before yur coffee’d up.  How’d we get to the place where we’d pull such folk in office and then to see some folk there that don’t care a hoot about this country, an’ one of them’s runnin’ for mayor of New York City.  Oh, Lord, help us through the jungles!

     At least the coffee’s good, but don’t yuh see the connection.  There’s a bunch of them tryin’ to replace honest coffee with cinos–compromise on the taste, or give it a twang of something sweet.  Did yuh happen to see this?  I had to shake my head a couple of times.  One of the leaders of our country, in fact he ran for president said, “We’ve got to cut down on farming due to climate change or people are going to starve.”  Huh?  Stop farmin’ so people don’t starve.  Listen we’re a-headin’ for the pills of the Jetsons faster than we think.  In fact, with the help of AI soon we’ll be eatin’ something that tastes like beef steak only when yuh bite into the pill.  As one ol’ boy put it, the west wasn’t won by eatin’ tofu an’ a salad.

     Pard, when folks throw God to the wayside or forget Him altogether there is a price to pay, and we’re seein’ it now.  But Pard, just like yur drinkin’ good ol’ hot black coffee there’s hope.  God will bring a remnant through, and oftentimes He’ll use them to bring a revival.  But if not, the price will be terrible.  I saw a photo of an ol’ rancher that said, “We are livin’ in a day where people are proud of what they should be ashamed of.”  Gay pride, transgender or multiple genders and I’ve seen that yuh can even be changin’ gender back an’ forth as it suits yuh.  Warped, demonic, and yuh don’t hear many preachers takin’ a stand.  An’ let me tell yuh that’s one of the problems–the pulpit has let this country down.  Don’t be gettin’ me wrong, not all of them, some fine preachers are doin’ their job, they’re bein’ watchmen, but there’s a whole bunch that ain’t.

     Then when people runnin’ for public office say that others should be shot.  Why, that a threat!  Others won’t keep the people of their cities safe because of a political agenda.  Jeremiah, where are you?  Amos, where is your cry?  An’ let me throw something at yuh, one reason there isn’t a voice of a true prophet like in the Old Testament is that we have the Bible.  Preach and live the Bible and many problems will be solved.

     Whew, I’ve done did my spoutin’ for this mornin’.  But I see we still made it through a pot.  Pard, be warnin’ yur kids an’ grandkids, don’t let up no matter what, even if’n they get to whinin’.  It’s jist like me a-tellin’ yuh to check yur cinch everytime I see yuh.  It only takes one slip to put another lump on yur noggin’.  Be ridin’ tall in the saddle, keep yur gun oiled, and Bible handy.  No tellin’ what kind of varmint or demon yuh might be meetin’ on the road.

      Vaya con Dios.

                    –Patrick Lindsay  (Chance Reilly)

 

“Say, it’s good to be back home again…”  What’s the matter Pard, yuh don’t like the song?  The song’s fine, it’s just my croonin’?  I’ll have yuh know that I sound pretty good to my ownself.  Maybe it’s just yur hearin’.  If’n yuh would join in with me, yuh might not be hearin’ so bad.  Oh, yuh don’t sing in polite company.  Ha–I reckon not.

     Well, if’n yuh ain’t gonna sing, grab yuh a cup an’ I’ll do the pourin’.  Good to be makin’ my own coffee.  The trip was good, most usually is when visitin’ loved ones, but always nice to be back at the little cottage in the woods, sittin’ and ponderin’ and drinkin’ good coffee.  I’ll have to give credit where credit’s due; the coffee on the trip was above average.  I don’t know what type they use, but the hotel coffee wasn’t all that bad.  Not that I’d want it everyday, now yuh hear, but it was drinkable.  

     Yep, always good to be back home.  Just a comfortable feelin’.  There’s somethin’ rich ’bout home.  Like that ol’ boy, Chance, he was a rich man.  My goodness, a wonderful wife makin’ an’ brinin’ him bread, pourin’ him a fresh cup of coffee, and sittin’ down, sorta comfortable like with him.  Now, I’d say that’s riches.  Plus, it’s always good to be a-jawin’ with you.  Mmm, homemade bread, maybe some butter, an’ some plum jelly rubbed on it.  Mighty good, better than fish eggs packed in a jar.  An’ one more thing I’ll be a-tellin’ yuh, it was made with pure love from her heart.  Now yuh jist can’t be beatin’ that.

     But hold on, Pard!  No, go ahead, yuh can be a-drinkin’ whilst I’m a-talkin’.  We have to not get too cozy with this ol’ world.  We ain’t stayin’ in it for all that long, ‘specially in the light of eternity.  Come on, Pard, sing with me:  “This world’s not my home, I’m just a passin’ through…”  We have to be rememberin’ that we’re only pilgrims travelin’ through this wearisome land.  Why even the riches of a home here below, won’t be a-comparin’ to our heavenly home that’s bright and fair.  So, Pard, no matter how good the vittles are, how strong and delectable the coffee is, no matter how warm an’ secure yur feelin’ in yur home’; it ain’t yur final home.  Yuh know, the hammerin’ stopped up yonder in glory, the good Lord, I expect is gettin’ the final touches ready on our home up there.  Yuh be lookin’ up in the sky, for He’s a-comin’ back for His saints.

     Pard, an’ don’t be like some of those who give dates for His comin’, or don’t be one of the other crowd that says, He ain’t comin’ back.  Why to be like them would be like not checkin’ yur cinch when yuh mount up.  Pard, in these days of turmoil, enjoy the blessin’s of the Lord, but keep your eyes on the horizon, for He’s sure to be comin’ soon.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Lou Bradshaw  (Hell’s Gates)

 

Don’t be a-worryin’, Pard, I’ve a full thermos of coffee, and if’n I’m needin’ more there’s plenty of way stations along the way.  It’s not like it used to be when I would stop alongside the road to make a cup or two.  Headin’ back home, but have a couple of thoughts to share before mountin’ the ol’l steel strawberry roan.

     Pard, the aroma of coffee perkin’ is grand, but think of what kind of aroma yuh give off.  Some folk carry around on them the odor of a skunk, whooee, that’s something that’s hard to rid off.  Some delicate ones carry the fragrance of a rose while there are others with the smell that comes from a workin’ person.  Most importantly, there is the smell of the Holy Spirit in our lives that goes up before the Father as a sweet scent.  Ol’ Paul said it this way:

               “Now thanks be to God who always lead us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place.”  –2 Corinthians 2:14, NKJV

 

     A couple more thoughts before sayin’ adios and hittin’ the trail.  First, those in this country who want Sharia law would be breakin’ the 1st Amendment.  See, Muslims do not believe in separation of church and state; to them they are one in the same.  Religion and politics are not separate so don’t be foolin’ yurself with their blather.

     And ponder this, the left–the Marxists–are complainin’ ’bout the illegal migrants leavnin’ and no one to do the menial jobs.  Ponder that for a moment…listen to what they’re a-sayin’.  Isn’t that slave mentality?  Isn’t that sayin’ they’re nothin’ but peons?  Put some of the deadbeats to work.  Get them off their duffs and make them give something back to society instead of just takin’.  Put in those hands that are outstretched for their government checks and food stamps, a shovel or hoe, or something they can use, perhaps a computer.

     Pard, there’s plenty of work to be did, sometimes a person just has to be persuaded to get it done.  And I refer back to Paul again, you don’t work, you don’t eat.

     Be seein’ yuh down the road.  Yuh hang on tight to the reins, be wary of the road in front of you.

      Vaya con Dios.

                    –Lou Bradshaw  (Texas War Lord)

 

Ahhh, good coffee this mornin’, Pard.  Sorry I didn’t wait for yuh, but I wanted a cup.  My mercy, the ‘landest things that were said and done this week.  I don’t have the time, space, or effort to elaborate on them all.  All I know is that we’re headin’ towards the abyss.  Lawlessness and stupidity are tryin’ to gain supremacy.  I don’t remember where I read this, but this little prayer fits, “Strengthen our hearts to stand firm when culture tells us to bow down, remembering that ‘the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.'”  If’n I’m thinkin’ right it came from Chad Prather.

     I won’t go into the shootin’ or the wokism that provoked Cracker Barrel.  There’s been enough said ’bout them.  But I will say that some of them dummy liberals have no clue the power of prayer.  Here’s one of the dumbest things–the mayor of Chicago says that to crack down on crime will bring more about.  He said there will be riots.  ??? Now I have to ponder that.  Why in the world would anyone riot if crime was reduced?  Seems to me the onliest ones that should be riotin’ would be the criminals. 

     Then there was this person who said that we shouldn’t have to work.  No, an’ yuh shouldn’t have to eat.  Ol’ Brother Paul made that clear, “If a man will not work, he shall not eat.”  It don’t matter the gender, yuh need to work.  Work is satisfyin’.  Work is rewardin’.  Work builds character.  Work separates the riff-raff from the top hand.  Work put beans on the table.  Work puts coffee in the pot.  Yuh get my drift.  That’s why yuh need to be workin’.  Now, I will say this character came right out of the Fruit Loops box, one of them whimperin’, snibblin’, wokist snowflakes. 

     Pard, sorry, didn’t mean to catch yuh in a slurp.  But what many folk don’t realize that the problem with this world is sin and evil.  The liberals, many of whom don’t believe in God, deny this.  They think that by education, or the right diet, or the right environment, or the …  that evil will disappear.  Boy howdy–they don’t have a clue.  Evil comes from the heart of man.  An’ that fool CNN reporter who said that pull the trigger once and a hundred rounds of bullets will fire in a second show they don’t care enough about the truth to check their facts.  They want a way out, an’ I’m a-thinkin’ that’s the kind of world ol’ Noah lived in.  Ha, nothin’ goin’ to happen, let’s put the blame on somethin’ an’ continue to party-hardy–then the rain.  This ol’ world is goin’ on the same way and then–the trumpet.

     Go on an’ get ready to face the week.  Listen to the preacher, grasp hold of tha gospel plow, an’ get ready to face the enemy next week.  An’ be a-rememberin’ that “the word our God stands forever.”  Be seein’ yuh, fight the good fight this week, and be a-checkin’ yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios.