–C.J. Petit  (Chance)

 

Glad yuh made it this mornin’, Pard.  I was a-fearin’ that the goblins might have gotten to yuh like that little orphan girl feared.  Yep, there are plenty of them things out there on the highways and byways.  Didn’t use to see ’em much, but now yuh can’t seem to go any place without seein’ some sort of wickedness.  Why just look at the faces and eyes of some of them politicians–pure evil.  May not be a goblin, but close to it, an ogre maybe.  Pard, yuh just stay watchful and don’t be frettin’, the worse ones are still locked in the abyss.

     What’s that?  Nah, this is good coffee.  Fresh, I wouldn’t serve my guest stale coffee, but I’ve sure have tasted some in my lifetime.  I will say this, stale coffee beats no coffee.  An’ the campfire–why that coffee’ll sit there for the day an’ if’n there’s still plenty in the pot, most likely it will be there at mornin’ light.

     Go ‘head, swaller it up while I do some spoutin’.  I saw where a woman was complain’ about not gettin’ her welfare.  She was wonderin’ how she was goin’ to feed her seven kids.  Now, there’s several issues with this.  Unless she’s a cripple, she needs to be workin’.  And while it wasn’t missin’ I’ll ask where was her husband?  Hmmm, how many has she had?  Do the kids have the same father?  Meddlin’?  Who me?  Nope, just statin’ the facts the way they are.  See the problem isn’t necessarily her lack of character, but the root problem is sin.  That ol’ statistical giant, Barna wrote recently that fifty percent of American no longer see “traditional” sins as wrong.  Listen, Pard, an’ don’t be snortin’ out any of that coffee–73% see drunkenness, gambling, and premarital sex as morally acceptable.  Yuh see the problem?  Man is wantin’ to redefine sin.  Barna says that this has led to “decades of social turbulence and spiritual confusion.”

     No, the problems won’t go away, but they can be dealt with if’n we had morally upright people.  People, who maybe don’t consistently practice it, but understand the difference between right an’ wrong.  Pard, man can say what he wants, he can go about redefinin’ right and wrong, but that don’t change the truth of God’s Word!  Hatred, bitterness, foolishness, why they can be taken care of if’n folks would just turn to the Lord.  He is the solution to their hungry hearts.

     Oh, the government shutdown?  Pard, let me tell yuh I have just one thing to say to those boot-lickin’ lackies in Washington, those liberal, left-wing goblins.  Yuh ready?  Ptui!! with double exclamation marks!  That’s why I’m tellin’ yuh be ridin’ wary.  Be a man, set apart for the Lord and walk in the light of His Word.  If’n for some reason yuh didn’t check yur cinch an’ yuh fall from yur saddle, get yurself back up, recinch and mount up.  The ride ain’t over until yuh get called on to glory an’ it’d be a shame if yur obituary said he died ’cause he forgot to check his cinch, or that he wasn’t totin’ his gun, or that his Bible was dusty.

    Vaya con Dios.

                    –B. N. Rundell  (The Road to Redemption)

 

Come in this kitchen, Pard.  Things are a-doin’.  Coffee’s plenty hot and strong enough to give yur innards a kick start.  Ha, sure do need that some these days; sometimes the old starter is startin’ harder.  Reminds me an ol’ 1952 Ford pickup I drove while workin’ landscapin’.  Yuh had to park it on a hill to get it started.  Let it roll some, then pop the clutch.  Shore was a cold thing, but it ran fine once it was started.  Guess that’s like I am.  Let my big toe touch the floor an’ I’m up, but ’til then…

     Ahhh, yep, tastes mighty good, an’ makes the ol’ gizzard smile.  Pard, have yuh ever wondered where some of these people come from, especially those liberal nuts.  Just like cockroaches that seem to crawl out of the woodwork.  There’s one runnin’ for Congress who said that if a Republican bullied her she’d slit their throat.  Mercy…don’t think there will be much talk ‘cross the aisles with her.  ‘Course their ain’t much now either.  Delusional–yep for shore an’ that tells yuh who they belong to.  An’ speaking of the father of lies, did yuh see that the photo of the Boston no king rally was rigged.  It was a photo, I think from 2017.  Lies, lies, and guess what, after the Lord returns these same folk will follow the man of lawlessness and his lies.

     See, that’s why they’ll sellin’ cinos and other such things an’ callin’ it coffee.  Lies, delusion, just a simple subtle thing to get yuh to believin’ somethin’ that ain’t so.  Pard, an’ ol’ poke from the Cowboy Site wrote some words that we need to be hangin’ on to.  Let me be passin’ them on to yuh.  He said that “bad folks ride every trail–some wear a grin while they twist the knife.”  See, Pard, I’m not the only one a-tellin’ yuh to ride wary an’ keep yur gun near.  This puncher goes on to say, “Yuh can’t change their ways or reason ’em right.  All yuh can do is keep yur boots clean and yur word solid.  The only cure for evil is refusin’ to join it.”  That tellin’ how the cow eats the cabbage!

     Yuh ever watch some of those folks bein’ interviewed?  My mercy…they haven’t a clue of what their doin’; it’s a wonder they can put their shoes on in the mornin’.  But then, that’s the crowd that ol’ slewfoot has in his back pocket–confused, angry, bitter folk full of hatred.  Our job is doin’ the right thing, helpin’ out in the place where we find ourselves, and bein’ the person the good Lord wants us to be no matter what trail we find ourselves a-travelin’.  Don’t be joinin’ that evil crowd!  Stay true to the Word an’ be standin’ firm, and if ridin’, sit tall in the saddle.  Keep the joy of the Lord, an’ be checkin’ yur cinch.

    Vaya con Dios.

                    –John Deacon  (The Provider 2)

 

“One more river to cross, one more mountain to climb, one more valley that I gotta go through…”  Come on, Pard, I know yuh don’t care much for my singin’, but join in an’ we’ll make the rafters shake.  Rivers, streams, creeks, brooks, yuh name them, an’ somewhere’s in our life an’ journey we’ve had to cross them.  Some were easy fordin’, some were sorta treacherous, but here we are Pard, on the other side of another river, headin’ onward an’ upward.  Oh, sure, plenty of coffee an’ I made sure it didn’t get wet in the crossin’.

     Pard, the older I get, the more I see an’ read, the more I see the foolishness in people.  Yuh may have heard this one.  I got it from that ol’ cowpoke, Chad Prather, but it seems that someone (I think in Canada) complained about a boy who brought pork in their sandwich.  My mercy, the audacity.  The young feller was told not to bring it again because it might offend someone, and I reckon it did.  I would be ready to send bacon, and ham, and pulled pork, along with a hot dog, and if’n I really wanted to get them, I might send a pork chop for the kid go gnaw on.  When is enough, enough?  I offend them by sendin’ a bacon sandwich, but what happens if they do something that offends me?  My, that’s a whole different story.

     Take a swaller, an’ I’ll refill yur cup.  Good thing I made it strong ’cause yul need it for this next little tidbit.  This came from the UK (that the Brits, if’n yuh didn’t know).  Straight from a police officer (think they’re called bobbies, but this one was a bobette), “You’re not allowed to sing church songs outside of church.”  ??? Duh, did yuh get that?  Yuh can whistle a tune, or rap a filthy song, but don’t dare sing “How Great Thou Art” outside the church.  Oh, John Wesley might be turnin’ over in his grave (if he was in it) at that news.  People used to go on a street an’ could point out the homes where the Methodists lived by their joyful singin’.  Pard, when is enough, enough?

     We may not realize it, but those are creeks that we have to cross.  An’ I won’t go into the stupidity and lackness of the judges in our land.  They hand out sentences based on the political agenda.  Why one went so far as to say she gave a light sentence stating her job is to “rehabilitate” not punish.  No!  A judge’s job is not to rehabilitate; it is their job to enforce the law, punish the criminal, and make the streets safe for innocent people.  (Thanks Angel)  It is the job of others in the system to try to rehabilitate.  See, Pard, there’s a day a-comin’ when people are goin’ to be sayin’ that to God.  Rehabilitate me, don’t judge me.  Now, is the time for rehabilitation an’ all one has to do is accept Jesus.

     See what I mean, we needed strong coffee this mornin’.  Lord, help us through the jungles filled with fools.  Like I keep a-tellin’ yuh, oil yur gun an’ keep it handy, stay in the Bible, ride tall an’ onward, an’ always, always check yur cinch.  Be sure yur mounted firmly!

     Vaya con Dios.

               –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.