James H. Smith

NOT THE PREACHER’S GOD

“Hell’s fire and brimstone shall rain upon your head.”
The Preacher cries; “Forever you will be among the dead!
A just and mighty God, the one God will smite you from his sight
You shall roam the darkness of Hell, never seeing heavens light!”

Preacher Sir, I agree one God is all there may be
But the God who rides beside me on the trail is not the one you see
My God’s a gentle loving man, with laughter in his eyes
He made the morning light, rainbows, and sunsets that often fill the skies

He rides a big Appaloosa gelding, sets a Leddy Brothers saddle he picked up along the way
His feet hid inside Spanish Tapadaros, that have sure seen better days
He’s with me in the winter pulling cows from drifts of snow
Then in the spring helps with birthin’ calves, in the summer together we watch ‘em grow

Why! Last summer that green broke sorrel colt bogged his head in the thunder lava flow
I was losing my seat, I thought from this earth ‘twas, my time to go
I was grabbin’ leather, still flew clear of that colt knowing my end was near
That old Appy gelding comes bustin’ through them rocks, the sight was mighty dear

Then his rider with his loving grace reached out and took my hand
Guided me down and found me a juniper bush, the softest place around to land
No Preacher I don’t need your hells fire and brimstone and your forever dead
You make God out to be a frightful man, the one God no one should ever dread

I look for the day when I sit next to my trail partner in a beautiful meadow in the sky
All I can do tell then, is try my very best; I guess we’ll all find out bye and bye