Miracles!

Some years ago, a deacon in one of my former churches handed me a piece of paper containing a story called “Musings of a Country Preacher.”  I remember chuckling over its content and, at the same time, recognizing its truths.  Experience has taught me that individuals, basically, will live their lives according to their passions and priorities.  So, read the story, enjoy the humor, and examine your commitment to the things of God.

Musings of a Country Preacher

Attendance at worship last Sunday was a mite poorly.  I don’t reckon I ought to grumble, because I had a bunch of sick members, so we didn’t have a site of pew fillers.  So, I went ahead and preached to what I had.  Only thing was the echo hurt my ears.

My wife said I needed to get out, ride awhile, and let the fresh air clear my head.  It made me feel good inside.  What I saw made me rejoice; I saw miracle after miracle!

Old Hezekiah who had been deathly sick that morning was roused up and riding down the highway with his fishing poles.  Nothing but a miracle could have rescued Hezekiah from the jaws of death in such a short time!

Now there’s Rufe’s brother.  Rufe told me Sunday morning his brother’s back was in such foul shape they were afraid that an operation was gonna be necessary.  Well, we remembered him in our prayer and, lo and behold, at two o’clock there he was at the driving range hitting golf balls.  If that wasn’t a quick recovery, then I don’t know what is.

All told about 20 of my sick folk had roused up and was taking nourishment in some form or other.  But what made me really happy was to see so many of them out riding around and enjoying the world.

Hezekiah’s pa, who didn’t attend worship “cause he can’t stand crowds,” was headed for the baseball game.  Sister Nell’s mama, who can’t come on account of her arthritis, stood in line for two hours to get into the picture show.  Yes sir, it sure filled my heart to see what I saw!

I ought to have a packed house next Sunday with all my sick folk being healed.  I just hope they don’t overdo themselves and have a relapse before next Sunday.

I gotta go now and play with my smallest young’un.  He is gonna be a farmer, and I gonna be the goat.  Tin cans will be easy to eat after what I have swallowed!

In Joy – Dennis