Shortgrass
Well-known member
I teach a Sunday School class of teenagers. When I was telling them about this website and "Good Sunday Mornin", and I mentioned that I was known as "Shortgrass" one of the ranch raised boys commented, with his western drawl, "I bet I know whar ya gotcher naime." I had to smile. Indeed any ol' ranch kid in our country knows about short grass. We've seen it so short that a cottontail can hunker down and look like a Volkswagen Bug in an empty parking lot. The grass is real good this fall. Gramma grass is up to your stirrups (long legged cowboy on a short horse). The heads only reach that high. The actual leaves of it will come up around the hocks on the cattle—and that's the really good grass! I recall several years ago a family from Pennsylvania had occasion to visit our ranch. The man ran a small butcher shop and knew cattle, and was accustomed to seeing them at least belly deep or even up to their backs in grass. He asked what I fed my cattle. When I said they just ate the grass, he said "what grass?" I loaded him and his family in the pick-up and showed them the cattle. The cows were in great flesh, milking good and several of them already sporting six weight calves by late summer. He was incredulous that cattle could make a good living on no more feed than he saw growing. Our grass is short, but that is not to say it isn't good. Another term often used is "hard grass." We live in a hard grass country. I have been told that there is only one area in the US (somewhere up in the Dakotas) where there is any more feed value per pound of grass than here. There just don't have to be lots of it to be effective, not does it have to be real "showy" to get the job done. A sermon doesn't have to be long to be good. Nor do we have to be Billy Graham or James Dobson to be an effective servant in the Kingdom of God. No custodian feels as important as the hierarchy of the organization, but his job is none the less essential. We've heard the story of a shoe salesman that led Dwight L. Moody to the Lord. I think of my maternal grandmother who came as a sixteen year old bride to a homestead on these bleak prairies. As a boy, I loved to hear her tell of the hardships that she had endured. Always there was that seemingly insignificant comment "We would never have made it, but for the Lord." There it was that I learned that the Lord is one who we must trust for the day to day business of living and not just someone that we talk about at church. We can and ought to serve the Lord tucked away in our little corner of God's green acre. If we can't, we could not serve him anywhere we would choose to be. LET'S ROLL! You all have yourselves a good Sunday morning, and a good rest of the week.
Thank-you shortgrass and have a great Sunday all
