Out Our Way: 'Your hat's too big, Charlie!'

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin that clings so closely – and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us." - Hebrews 12: 1

Out our way, much of the community was present and accounted for at the Methodist Church last Saturday when we came to pay our respects to my pard, Charlie Floyd. Charlie and I pushed cows and rode fence together for a number of years - and when my dog ate my hat ... Charlie gave me his as a replacement.  

Now, as many folks out our way know, a cowboy's hat is his signature and is as personal as anything he owns. Over the years the sweat, rain, snow, heat and cold sort of mold it to that unique color and style that is as distinctive as a cowboy's walk, laugh or smile. My old hat had been with me some 25 years or more and  bore all the marks of those years. So when Scout chewed it up, I was pretty devastated. Some of you may recall I wrote about it in this column.

Well, Charlie was not only my pard, but a regular reader of my column - and some time after I told the story of Scout's feast, he called me up and had me come over to see him. By this time Charlie was pretty much confined to a wheel chair and on oxygen, but he still had that grin and laugh that I had come to treasure. He was in the back room and he handed me his "outback" leather coat he had worn so often in his days in the saddle ... and then he reached down and gave me his hat.

There are few things I cherish as much as those items, and at the service Saturday, when I was given the chance to share with the folks some thoughts about Charlie, I told them about the hat. And then I put it on. And the folks began to laugh - for it was and is just a tad too big for me. Well, we all had a laugh at that, but as I thought about it, I realized God was speaking to me and everybody else that day when I donned Charlie's hat. It was God reminding me and the rest of us what a truly big man Charlie is. Indeed, one of his former pastors said what I have also said from time to time, "When I grow up, I want to be like Charlie."  

Oh, I have seen Charlie lose his temper - and occasionally let the world know that he was thinking dark thoughts - especially when his horses Jet and Freckles were being goof ups.

But he was always gentle with me, and despite my amateur cowboy status, he encouraged and even complimented me. He only smiled that time I foolishly stepped into a supposedly dry creek and couldn't get my boot out. He helped me out of the bog and even helped me clean off my chaps and boots once I was free of my predicament. That is one of a thousand stories folks can tell about Charlie - all with the same focus: of a warm-hearted, loving man who made it a point to make a difference for others.

Nope, Charlie, your hat is too big for me. But I will wear it anyway, as a reminder of the fact I have a lot of growing up to do yet.

The passage from Hebrews quoted above comes after a lengthy passage lifting up the examples of the great people of the faith who preceded us and in whose lives bear witness to their love of God and neighbor. It brings to mind a great stadium filled with those who have run their race and are now in the stands cheer us on as we run ours.

Charlie, I know you are watching, and that you see me  still riding my own trail in your old hat and coat. I look forward to that day when, as used to happen when we separated for a time when we chased strays  on the Tiger Ridge - I come up over the hill and spot you waving me on. I figure we have some more fence to ride and new trails to follow in the green pastures on the Boss' spread.

I'll be seeing ya, Charlie! 

(John Bruington, Goliath and Scout regularly post their stories, sermons and observations at havrepres.org. The book "Out Our Way, Theology Under Saddle" is available at Amazon)