News you can use
Out our way there is a lot of open country and to the greenhorn cowhand like me, it all looks pretty much the same. More than once I have gotten turned around and had no idea which way was which. Back in the day when I first started riding in open country, Elsie - the ranch lady who gave lessons to us tenderfeet in Wyoming - told me that you need to look back the way you came from time to time so as to see the "other side of the hills" and so recognize them when it came time to head back.
Great advice, which I promptly forgot while riding with Charlie up in the Tiger Ridge.
It had been a long day checking fences and riding down into the thickets to make sure no wandering calves had gotten lost and separated from mama and the herd ... and I was ready to head for home. But where was it? Where was I? I looked around me and hadn't a clue which way was home. The landscape behind me was as unfamiliar as that ahead. I couldn't even tell you which was west or east, for it was overcast and the sun was hidden behind the clouds. Oh, I expect I would have figured out the general direction - home was somewhere west of the Tiger Ridge, but where exactly? And where were the truck and trailer? Where was the gate and the dirt road that got me back to the pavement? Not a clue! But ... was I worried? Not a bit. For I had a guide!
I looked up and there was Charlie patiently sitting on Jet, his cowpony, waiting for me. Ole Charlie was with me and he knew the way. All I had to do was follow him. And so I did and so we easily made our way home.
I note the scripture often uses the theme of the good shepherd who guides the sheep - or the good cowhand who works the herd. I suspect most folks in Judea and Galilee were familiar with the image and the fact that sheep are extremely dumb. Cows aren't a whole lot better to my way of thinking ... and maybe not greenhorn cowhands either. At any rate, only the most self-centered and delusional folk think they can do just fine without any help, but sooner or later the ones that survive their self-deception come to realize, like the rest of us, they need help.
As many of you know and I have shared often enough - the word "sin" in both Greek and Hebrew basically means "to miss the target." It's not judgmentalism or my opinion ... it's simply a fact. You go to the range and fire a few rounds and check the target. Did you hit the bullseye? Did you even cut paper? Now look at your own life and ask the same question. To confess my sin is to acknowledge my aim is off. To repent of my sin - again the Greek and Hebrew word both mean basically to adjust your sites and aim. Or to put it another way, sin is "going the wrong way down the road" and repentance is "turning around." You can't get to the top of the mountain by going down hill.
Anyway, when we realize something is off - that we aren't really sure which way to go in life - we can deny it and keep stumbling around on our own, or we can look to the Guide who is patiently waiting for us to turn toward Him and follow. He knows the way home. I still picture ole Charlie sitting on Jet up high on a ridge just grinning at me in my confusion and patiently waiting for this stubborn tenderfoot cowboy to look up, admit I need guidance, and head up the ridge to join and follow him.
The ride home was not easy - there were gullies to cross, thickets of thorns to get past and steep ridges that we had to climb and then carefully work our way down. The wind was still blowing dust in my face and the sun was as hot as ever ... but that was just part and parcel of riding in the Big Open. But I was headed for home and even these obstacles seemed less difficult to handle.
I think of those days and that image of Charlie patiently waiting up on the ridge to guide me home - and it's an image I think Christ would approve. For I also see me wandering about, confused and unsure and even a tad worried.
"Help, Lord! This greenhorn is wandering in circles and can't find the trail!" Then up on the ridge, sitting his cowpony, leaning over the pommel with a big grin, the Lord calls out: "Look up, Pard. I'm right here. I am the Trail! Come on up and ride with Me and I will get you home."
Be blessed and be a blessing!
Brother John
--
The Rev. John Bruington is the retired pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Havre. He now lives in Colorado, but continues to write "Out Our Way."
Reader Comments(0)