Randy-Heidi.htm

A dear friend of ours, a fellow Mounted Shooter, presented me with a book of poems entitled "Christ and the Cowboy." She told me that the very first poem in the book reminded her of me because of the Cowboy Churches I was doing all over the country at the Mounted Shooting Events. When she presented the book to me, and I read the poem she was referring to, it touched my heart deeply.

I have had many folks, over the years, tell me how much they were watching me and how they wanted to be a Christian like me. Some may find that flattering, I found it extremely humbling. I know what I am really like inside. I understand completely what Paul meant when he wrote in Romans 7:18 - "For I know that in me...dwells no good thing..."

However, that is the beautiful thing about a life yielded to the work of Christ; a life that allows Jesus to come inside and dwell and live. He can take a vessel like me, a vessel that needs cleaning and washing and has nothing but dirt and grime in it, and clean it up so others can taste the goodness of pure water that can flow out of it. Because I have allowed Jesus to live in me, I now can say as Paul wrote in Galatians 2:20 - "It is no longer I who lives, but Christ that lives in me..." Any good that anyone sees in me is the goodness of Christ.

So, I present this poem to you as one who hates the badness of Randy, but loves the goodness of Christ. I am

proud to have been able to serve Christ over these years by bringing Him and His goodness and His Word to your lives. Only Jesus could have made that possible, and to Him be glory and honor forever, Amen.

"THE CIRCUIT RIDER"

Written by Kenneth Wyatt

A man he was, don't doubt you none,

Plumb clean thru, foot to head.

And not just size nor deeds he'd done,

Most was the things he'd said

Ah, big he was with a lop-side smile,

And gentle, too, you bet.

Ask him - he'd go that extra mile

A stranger never met.

"He's from south Texas," Papa believed.

"Comes 'bout twice a year.

Joy comes with him, and when he leaves,

The women shed a tear."

A claw hammer coat, a black felt hat,

Boots run down at the heel,

Proud on a tall bay horse he sat.

The Leather Book was real.

The Reverend, that was Mama's choice,

Preacher to all us rest.

But names didn't matter - just the voice

When certain you'd be blest.

Then, singin' he was at a fearsome pace;

The power of God was near.

That circuit rider led us to grace,

An' love shoved out the fear.

Sudden he'd open the Book leather bound.

Holy was the come true!

The birth, the death, then life all around,

Jesus' life plumb thru!

Glory came down and flooded the place;

Religion was right as rain.

You could see God's peace on every face;

Pardon washed every stain.

That man of the cloth could do it all -

Touched every child and man.

Listen close...you'd hear the angels call

From thrones in the promised land.

Then, baptizing done and scripture all taught

Plus, I guess, marryin' a few

The rider rode on - leavin one thought...

That "God loves 'specially you!"

God Bless You and God Bless America!