We all have to eventually choose a trail to go down

None of us have words to express the sorrow and outrage we feel over the senseless murders at Robb Elementary in Uvalde. But, we can pray for God’s strength and comfort to surround that community. Prayer is powerful.

We meander through life, taking many trails You see, life is full of trails, some wide with beautiful scenery and some narrow and filled with adventure. But it all boils down to this passage in Matthew.

Now, the Bible tells you in Matthew 7: 13-14 “That the wide gate and the broad road will only lead to destruction while the narrow gate and the narrow road will bring you to life, but only a few will find it.” This story about two different types of trails seems to show us that many of the people here on earth are choosing the wide, easy, comfortable trail. 

There are only a few that choose to submit themselves to a trail that is hard to travel, maybe even a bit scary. But, if the people of this world would give themselves the time to read, study, think, and listen with a discerning ear; they would realize that the easy way out often ends in a disaster. Maybe not the first time, but it is inevitable that those that conform with the worldly ways will not find the narrow gate. 

This passage in Matthew makes it clear that as we stand at a spiritual crossroad faced with choosing a path, choosing the wide and easy path will lead you on the pathway that ends with fire and brimstone in hell! The narrow less traveled road leads to life. In the words of Robert Frost in his poem, “The Road Not Taken,”                                                                            

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

My great grandpa was a pioneer Baptist preacher on the Llano Estacado and off the Caprock into the Palo Duro Canyon. This was a time in history when the folk in that part of the country were  resourceful. They were a hardy people filled with dreams as well as needs. Brother Weathers was there to meet their spiritual needs. 

My Grandpa, Papa Hop, would tell stories of his Dad’s adventures while sprinkling in some tidbits of the sermon teachings Grandpa would use. Many of his sermons emphasized the parables that Jesus used in his teachings. He often incorporated these parables into a prayer and as a result became known as the “praying preacher.” He, like most Baptist preachers in that time era, preached hell fire and brimstone and would be quick to tell you that you should ignore the wide and easy trail and choose the more difficult and narrow rocky trail that led you in the direction that Jesus sought. I wrote this poem to honor my Great-Grandpa, James Allen Weathers, the praying preacher.

 

When Grandpa Said A Prayer

T’was just a  country church house 

on the arid Texas plain,

tall steeple an’  a weathered  roof,

that very seldom saw it rain.

 

Folks came from all around

to worship in their own way.

They’d  read scripture an’  meditate,

then listen to Grandpa pray.

 

He stood there at the alter, 

with the Bible in his hand.

His voice was firm, yet gentle,

yes, he rode for the brand.

 

Then a song they’d sing, soft an’ low,

that spoke of lovin’ care.

The  refrain would quietly fade,

as  Grandpa said a prayer. 

 

A prayer straight  from his heart

with  words that were so true.

Stirred memories from yesteryear,

that were remembered by a few.

 

…like a time, back there  in his past

when breakin’ broncs made his pay.

…or the graveyard, where  a weeping wife

had tearfully ask him to pray.

 

A rustic man in every way,

just country thru an’ thru.

A fiesty Texas preacher,

his word  was always true.

 

An’  tho times were often hard,

an’ t’was tough to make ends meet.

It was a life that he had chose,

he’d never  accept defeat.

 

They all worked together

with grit an’ faith an’ love,

to hold the family ties in place

with help from God above.

 

Jim was good at ridin’  broncs,

stickin’  tighter than a blister.

His reputation of never quit,

helped him be a bronco twister.

 

His name was James Allen Weathers, 

that’s what his Mother called him.

But to most folks here abouts,

he was…”that  bronco twister, Jim.”

 

When that weepin’ wife asked him to pray

In that graveyard  way back there.

He took off his dusty hat,

and prayed a  gracious heartfelt prayer

 

 

Then he rode down that lonely trail,

knowin’ life had changed that day.

To preach God’s word was his to do.

So Grandpa began to pray.

 

That Sunday, people sat spellbound,

while Satin’s power was impeached.

Everyone could feel glory, 

as that old bronco twister preached.

 

At sermon’s end, they felt at peace.

God’s power… what more could you say.

Man, woman, and child richly blessed,

as Grandpa began to pray.

© Ol’ Jim Cathey

 Please pray!

Of the two roads, one is spiritual and leads to home, the other is earthly and leads nowhere 

God Bless those old time preachers and God Bless America!

 

 

   

 

 

 

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