I meant well when I got up early, this morning. My plan was to shower, shave, and hit the ground running. The plan failed. I hit the ground in a pair of pajamas, a t-shirt and some rubber muck boots. I had already gotten a pot of coffee going. My wife was getting ready for work, and I was leaning toward feeding the horses real quick before having a little quiet time with Jesus. I got the horses fed. Then I ran into the barn real quick to check on some things. When I came back out, there was my dad for a visit and a plan for the week. My dad and I seldom have short visits, so as the sun began to completely clear the horizon, I realized I’d better get a move on. After all, it was slack day at the Pendleton Round-Up. That being said, I should have gotten up at 2:00 a.m. Regardless, I went back into the house, and both of the kids were up and hungry. I stopped to feed them. Then, I realized I had forgotten to put a coat of polyurethane on the vanity in our new bathroom (it needs four more), so I stopped to do that. I had gotten the lid off of the can when my dad walked in and said, “Marty, there’s some cows and calves coming up the driveway.” What? Our cows and calves are gone. They’re on the other side of the freeway, ten miles away. He knew that, but that didn’t change the fact that we had some coming up the driveway. Every Fall, the neigbor’s cows begin making their way down out of the hills. They’re a little early, this year; it’s so dry. I ran out, still in my pajamas, a t-shirt and muckboots with Crae at my side. We opened the gate to the arena and moved into place to get around the small herd. A few of them turned and ran back down the driveway. I began to panic, but then I saw Dallas Dick coming up the road on his four wheeler. I waved him to come on. We threw a flake of hay into the arena to bait them, and in they went. It wasn’t two minutes before Bill Weathers and his mom Sharon came rolling up. Jerry Weathers, Sharon’s husband, happened to be in town getting ready for slack. He had a trailer, and his daughter had the other. So Dallas went back down to their place and got his trailer. We got everything set up, and then we loaded cows and calves. I looked at myself, still in my pajamas and wearing rubber boots. Bill was in sweats and tennis shoes. He had been on his way to work out at the racquetball club. Dallas was decked out in a ball cap, Texas Tech t-shirt and a pair of tenny stompers, as well. As we shut the door on the trailer, Dallas said, “Of all the days I forgot to wear my cowboy boots.” Bill and I laughed. We remarked at our looks. Not a cowboy in the bunch, yet we just herded and loaded some wild cattle off the mountain. We looked like a bunch of city boys, yet we were getting the work done of a bunch of buckaroos. I guess that goes to show a guy can get the job done, regardless of what he’s wearing. It’s funny how God will do that when he calls people. Sometimes, we feel like we’re not cut out for a job, or we may not look the part. That’s not what God is interested in. He’s interested in someone who’s obedient. Someone who will put the rubber boots back on and get out there and load cows. Looks aren’t everything. Lots of times, we try to look better before we try to do better. The key is to get up with whatever we’re wearing and get about the work to which God has called us. In Matthew, Jesus called Simon and Andrew, a couple of stinky fisherman who couldn’t get into real discipleship school. They were in their work clothes, for crying out loud, and Jesus said, “’Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him” (4: 18-22). We don’t have to get gussied up to go to work. We just have to be willing to go.
Posted on: Tue, 10 Sep 2013 06:03:11 +0000
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