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Jake, the rancher, went one day, to fix
a distant fence.
As he pounded the last staples in and gathered
tools to go,
When he finally reached his pickup, he
felt a heavy heart.
So Jake did what most of us would do, had
we been there.
As he turned the key for one last time,
he softly cursed his luck.
Now Jake had been around in life and done
his share of roaming.
Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite
was St. Peter.
So they set and talked a minute or two,
or maybe it was three.
"I've always heard," Jake said to Pete,
"that God will answer prayer,
"Does God answer prayers of some, and ignore
the prayers of others?
"Or does he randomly reply, without good
rhyme or reason?
"Now I ain't trying to act smart, it's
just the way I feel.
Peter listened very patiently and when
Jake was done,
"That day your truck, it
wouldn't start, and you sent your prayer a flying,
"A thousand angels rushed, to check the
status of your file,
"And though all prayers are answered, and
God ain't got no quota,
BETTER KEEP IN TOUCH! |
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