Out Our way: Before you hang 'em up ...

Out our way, even the best of us are tempted to eventually hang up our spurs, When Charlie's horse fell on him and ended his days as a cowboy, and eventually his life; Charlie never quit being Charlie. Charlie and I worked out at the hospital therapy room all that winter and although he came and went in a wheelchair and knew this was the end of the trail (he died a few months later), he kept going.

One of the proudest days (and saddest) was when he called me up and asked me to come see him at his home. He was in his wheelchair and on oxygen and called me into the dining room/kitchen area. There he presented me with his range coat (heavy leather and lined for Montana winter riding). But then, wonder of wonders, he reached down and handed me his hat. 40-plus years of outdoors with the Border Patrol and nearly as many working cows for various folks on the Montana Hi-Line had made that hat distinctive. As every rancher and cowhand knows, a cowboy's hat is his signature and his autobiography. Rain, snow, sun, mud, dust, being stomped on and sweat all go to make every cowboy's hat distinctive. There is a difference between a "cowboy hat" and a "cowboy's hat." Although an ordained pastor, at Charlie's funeral I didn't wear my clergy garb but Charlie's hat and coat. Folks recognized that hat and coat and thought it a fitting tribute to Charlie.

Since that time, I have worn Charlie's hat and coat a few times and thought of my pard. But I have also thought of how hard it must have been to give them to me. He was accepting his cowboy days were at an end - and, in his case, also that his time on earth was drawing to a close. Yet I never saw Charlie appear to be too concerned about it. You see Charlie was more than a cowboy ... he was a disciple of Jesus. At his funeral in his beloved Methodist Church, where he had been an active member and also a leader and inspiration to many, the place was packed. The minister realized that there were many people who needed to praise God for Charlie, so the service went on longer than most, but nobody minded. Charlie had touched too many lives in the church, in the community, and on the range. And he still does.

It turned out, as I reflect on it and remember wearing that heavy coat and too large hat inside the church as MY tribute to Charlie; that he had never really "hung up his spurs." Like his hat, Charlie had been beaten down, stomped, tossed, exposed to the various elements of both the good and the evil, but that just went to make Charlie who he was. That all went to make Charlie what he was. He was - and still is - a part of the Hi-Line community and his impact will not quickly fade away.  

The man called "Job" in the scriptures was such a man as well, and his story is that of a man who "never hung up his spurs" despite every trial and tribulation. Through it all, he remained steadfast to the end and beyond for he knew that God, however seemingly distant at the moment, was still with him - and there was work to do for the Kingdom. You read how all of Job's friends and even his wife quit on God and Job in the face of his trials, telling him to " hang up his spurs," but Job refused.  "Though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him" (Job 13:15).

I, too, have been tempted to "hang up my spurs" over the past few years as one trial after another has come along to toss and stomp me into the ground. But then I think of Job and above all the example of Christ in His passion. And I also remember the example of Charlie. And instead of hanging up my spurs, I put them on and trust God still has use for me. 

Be blessed and be a blessing! 

Brother John 

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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." He can be reached for comment or dialogue at [email protected].