Cowboy Evangelism by Stephen Taylor, 2007

Most Christians, I suppose, if asked what comes to mind when you speak of evangelism and Colorado Springs, CO, would think of the broad-based radio ministry there called Focus on the Family, James Dobson’s religious-political organization. When I think of evangelism taking place in Colorado Springs, I think of a ranch and little known cowboy who practices what we call life-style evangelism.Drive out to the Garden of the Gods and take a couple of lefts and you’ll end up at the Flying-W Ranch.

Most of the open land there has been gobbled up by sub-divisions now, so the ranchers at the Flying W have taken to selling their beef in plate-size portions instead of on the hoof. They have a simple, barn-like structure filled with long picnic tables in a room that will seat about a 1000. During the summer the place fills up quickly. People go through the lines and get their Bar-B-Que, beans and potatoes on tin plates. There’s baked chicken if you want it instead, but they’ll laugh at you. Chickens and cowboys don’t jive, ‘cause you can’t rope a chicken. After everyone has eaten the Flying-W Wranglers come on stage, five men who play and sing western songs. The one on the bass is Scotty Vaughan, a six foot, two, pure cowboy who does most of the talking and tells the jokes between the songs.

Scotty told one about his grandfather who as a teen wanted to drive a stagecoach. He was turned down over and over and finally a grizzly old coach driver took him on. He was told to be the look-out and not to talk. He sat there and looked and looked and finally he saw riders off in the distance behind them. There’s a couple riders behind us, he told the driver. How far away? Said the driver. Maybe a couple miles, said Scotty’s granddad. See, that shows you’re nothing but a green-horn, said the driver. Out here, we tell distance by saying how big the person is. Well they’re this big, said the boy, holding his fingers about an inch apart. Forget em said the driver.The young man kept looking, and he then told the driver. They’re closer. How close. Well now they’re this big, spreading his fingers on one hand as far apart as they would go. Just leave em alone, but watch em, he was told.

Watch them he did and finally he said. They’re closer. And? Well, how they’re this big he said using to hand to indicate about 12 inches. Keep watching. It wasn’t long an he said, Now they’re this big, ( 36 inches) and this time the driver said, get your rifle out and shoot them.He picked up his rifle and took aim, but there weren’t any shots fired. The driver shouted at him, I said shoot them. The young man took aim again, but still did not shoot. What’s wrong with you, the driver asked. Shoot them. I can’t, said his granddad, I’ve know em since they was this (fingers apart) big, he said.After the laughter dies down, Scotty goes on with his story. I like that story a lot, he says, cause it’s a lot about me, in a way. See, I was a late-bloomer, he says to all those people every night. I didn’t become a follower of Jesus until I was in my mid-thirties. There were a lot of bad things in my life that I couldn’t get rid of on my own, cause I’d gotten so used to them. They started out as little things, but they kept getting bigger and bigger. I tried to change my ways, but I couldn’t on my own.It took turning my life over to Jesus and following him, and that’s true for anyone. I couldn’t do it on my own, and neither can you.

Then he introduces a song he wrote, called Circuit Riding Preacher.Night after night in the midst of music and laughter, Scotty Vaughan tells his own story of needing Jesus and the transformation Jesus brought to him. That’s evangelism, that’s Focusing on the Lord and letting our own story name the name of the Savior before others

Cattleman's Prayer

Now O Lord please lend thine ear,
The prayer of the Cattleman to hear;
No doubt many prayers to thee seem strange,
But won't you bless this cattle range?
Bless the round-up year by year
And don't forget the growing steer;
Water the land with brooks and rills
For my cattle that roam a thousand hills.
Now, O Lord, won't you be good
And give our livestock plenty of food;
And to avert a winter's woe
Give Italian skies and little snow.
Prairie fires won't you please stop,
Let thunder roll and water drop,
It frightens me to see the smoke,
Unless it's stopped, I'll go dead broke.
As you, O Lord, our herds behold--
Which represents a sack of gold--
I think at least five cents per pound
Should be the price of beef year round.
One more thing and then I'm through,
Instead of one calf, give my cows two.
I may pray different than some others,
but thenI've had my say, and now amen.

Author--unknown, circa 1890

What a wonderful way to spend a Saturday. Last week we were out on the range rounding up about seventy head. Our horses did great and the cows cooperated (for the most part) with the round up and the sorting.

Right about noon we were contemplating riding out again to find the last 12-15 head that were missing. However, Art looks at us with a grin and says we should have a bite to eat first. Perhaps them cows will come in on their own. We kind of gave him a sideways glance. But he had seen them a coming. Sure enough we no sooner had our coffee out when all 15 of them wandered right up to the corrals. Old timers! You gotta love them.

A Sad Day

A few days ago I went for that "walk" with two of our horses. That "walk" where three of you go out and only one returns. I hate those walks, but some times things are difficult on the farm. Unfortunately, Gracie's leg was not improving, in fact it grew worse with the passing of each day. She limped continually and had to spread out her legs to eat. The reason I put her mom down was that Liberty had poor conformation, some pretty bad habits and was basically untrained. She was for all intents and purposes - useless. If I had allowed her to live after taking the foal she would of suffered needlessly. Some mares even go so far as to have a mental melt down. All in all it needed to be done. It is not like we have unlimited resources to feed horses that will never amount to anything. As hard and cold as that sounds, it is reality.

I know that I will have to take this walk again, both with our old dog and my old gelding. Jessie we've had for 14 years and Bud has been my horse for going on twenty years. That my friend will be a sad day indeed.

Back At It!

Judi and I have just about used up our days off. We had a great day today as we worked at bringing in the last few loads of this winter's firewood. We fell about a dozen (standing dead) trees and then bucked them up. Judi operated the splitter and I split and loaded about 8 cords. We burned up all the branches and debris. With the autumn colors in full displayand the aromatic smell of fresh cut wood, intermingled with the smoke smell I thought I was in heaven.

On Tuesday Art picked my horse and I up and we rode all day bringing in a neighbors cattle. I love this area. Four of us on horse back brought in several hundred head and sorted them for the liners to transport. Funny... some folk dream of a vaction a broad, but not this guy. I get such a charge out of brush popping cattle and spending time in the saddle. My horse although very green is starting to get some "cow sense". It is neat to see him coming along.

We are without a doubt, blessed!

Happy Anniversary Judi!

Wild and free, and lots of fun.
She wasn’t even twenty-one,
It don’t seem that long ago,
I married a pretty Miss I’d met,
at a Kid’s camp in Ontario.
Now I never was no handsome dude,
And she was pretty as can be,
So I suppose her friends was wonderin,
Just what she saw in me!
She’s been by my side ever since,
Through the good times, wrecks and tears.
Somehow it don’t seem possible,
We’ve been married thirty three years.
While I’ve gained some weight and lost some hair,
She’s still pretty as can be,
And I’ve spent thirty three years a wonderin’
Just what she sees in me!

A Servants Bell

Tho this cowboy's life is a livin' rage,

and his lovely wife he lives to please.
There lurks inside of him a little boy,

Who dearly loves to tease.
Now on a recent trip to town,

the logic of his purchase, I really couldn't tell.
But you could see the devil in his eyes,

when he found this Servants Bell.

Now a Servants Bell is what rich folks use,
when calling their servants to fill their every need.
Why they're suppose to fetch and carry,

or even groom the masters steed.
Well this cowboy bought that tinklin' bell,

and headed for the ranch.
And pondered on the benefits,

if this bell should work perchance.
Now his wife she is a pleasant gal,

and she doesn't mind his tease.
Ya see she loves her scruffy cowboy,

and does her best to please.
Well, . . . The details of this story, . . .
I really don't think I want to tell.
"Cause things didn't work quite out the way

they were suppose to, when he rang his little bell.

But there is one thing that I can tell you,
and that is that we hope that someday doctors

may find some cures. To explain why he jingles when he walks,

'cause he does it without spurs.

Rudy Gonzales Cowboy Poetry