You should keep the faith in times of drought

I was visiting with an old pard last week, and the subject swung around to the weather. He
allowed, “ This dang drought we have been sufferin’ through all this time seems to be plannin’
to stick around.” Well, I pondered on his thought and I expect he is right, those fronts drift in
with their promise of rain and while the clouds look promising, they have not produced much,
and when they do, it has been nice, usually slow and soaking. But, our tanks need to experience a
good hard run-off rain to bring their level up. My Ol’ Daddy always said, “They say, if you ain’t
getting’ rain, then you must not be payin the preacher!” Actually, it is probably the Weather
man’s fault. My guess is, that they are like politicians and will have developed a series of
excuses that throw the blame on whoever is on the opposite side! Texas has its share of “old
sayings”, proverbs if you will, and one that comes to mind is, “If you don’t like the weather, just
wait a bit an’ it will change!” The truth of the matter is a feller could grow a beard while he is
waiting. Spring rains, so far, have been mighty scarce; however, since we live in Texas, you just
never know but what tomorrow may bring a frog strangler. So, when it does rain, I am just going
to thank the Good Lord for filling our tanks. I wrote a poem called “Have The Faith” that I
would like for you to read.

Have The Faith
“How long we been needin’ a rain?”
Ol’ Pard asked with a sigh.
The dust was blowin’ down the lane,
stock tanks were mostly dry.
Pastures are bare, ‘cept fer some weeds,
parched fields won’t make much hay.
Be hard to meet them critters needs,
shore be hard fer them to stay.
Haulin’ water takes a lotta time
an’ still don’t quench their thirst.
Well is low an’ the creek has slime!
Shore can’t tell which is worst.
.
Hard to figger jest what to do,
‘cuz things look purty bleak.
But to this land we will be true.
Forecast calls fer rain next week.
This’un sez it will be a dry spring.
That’un sez it might be wet.

Hard to figger what it will bring,
got no choice, take what you get.
Preacher held a prayer meetin’
askin’ fer help from Him.
Church house had a-plenty seatin’,
but the crowd was purty slim.
Preacher sez, “When any feller
shows up to pray fer rain,
he otta bring his umbrella,
an’ faith big as a mustard grain.”
Now, the Bible sez be sincere
when yore askin’ of Him.
An’ the Lord will handle yore fear
an’ make yore troubles grow dim.
The few that we wuz, said our prayer
fer rain an’ help with the stock.
Figgered what we asked fer wuz fair,
‘cuz we were part of His flock.
Then clouds turned dark, lightenin’ flashed
an’rain began to fall.
We thanked the Lord, as thunder crashed,
our faith had been purty small.
It came right out of the northwest,
an’ we shore needed it.
We figgered that we had been blest,
an’ hoped it would not quit.
The rains had come, parched earth was healed,
the battle had been won!
In days to come, we’d sow the fields,
new crops warmed by the sun.
Spring rains have filled up all the tanks
an’ things don’t look so grim.
Green grass is thick, an’ cows are slick,
an’ we say thanks to Him!
© Jim Cathey  

Better find your umbrella!

God bless each of you and God Bless America!