From a Puncher to a Preacher by Louis Penn IV
Shorty Barnes sat atop his Appaloosa, overlooking the cattle as they grazed near the head of Chisholm Trail. Shorty’s real name was Wesley Snider Barnes, but everyone referred to him as “Shorty” due to the lower than average height of five feet, five and a half inches which he stood, if you were to ask him. It was a warm day in San Antonio, Texas. Shorty wiped the beads of sweat from his head and smiled as he looked down at the herd. He had seen this herd raised from calves and they were now ready to go to market. Shorty turned to his boss as the stalwart man of fifty years rode up. Mr. Wildman’s face was weather beaten, but he had his eyes that always shook Shorty a little. Mr. Wildman glanced at the herd and then turned to Shorty. “What do you think, Mr. Barnes?” Shorty narrowed his eyes and then smiled. “If we can avoid the Indians and rustlers we will bring in a nice profit this year. Then we may be able to buy that extra hundred acres we will need for the influx of cows.” “Good!” Mr. Wildman patted Shorty on the back. “Praise the Lord! The church in town is really needing a new building and it will be exciting to what God can do with it.” Shorty stiffened. “If you would not give so much to that Reverend we could have bought that new property two times over now.” Mr. Wildman turned to Shorty with those kind eyes. “Shorty, what you don’t understand is that it’s all God’s anyway. He is kind e’nuff to let us keep a little for ourselves.” Shorty knew the old story; he had heard it over and over again for the past two years. “Praise the Lord, Thank the Lord for His kindness, all we have is because of what God gave us, etc. and etc.” But then again, if Mr. Wildman had not taken him in when nobody else would he would be dead. He still held those scars from that fateful day he had ridden onto this ranch and fallen to the ground near the step of the Wildmans’ beautiful home being riddled with two bullet holes and a knife wound. Their care is whathad saved him, but he had no time to think of that now as he had to be off on the drive. “All right Mr. Wildman,” Shorty turned his horse down the slight hill, “See you in 6 months.” “God bless.” Mr. Wildman replied and slid from his mount. Shorty shook his head as he knew his boss was staying to pray on the hill as he always did. _____ As he and his mount crested the hill, Shorty was glad to see the home on the range below. He was looking forward to seeing the Wildmans again and to taste that wonderful Pecan pie and bear claws of Mrs. Wildman. Shorty rode on, but seeing smoke he put the spurs to his Appaloosa which the horse recognized as a sign of danger as he hardly ever used them. Shorty sped through the front gate and leapt off of his horse as if it were still. “Mr. Wildman, where are you?” He screamed. A moan from around the side of the house caught his ears. Shorty scrambled around the house to see those kind eyes looking up at him from a beaten man lying on the ground, who held a pocket Bible in his hands. Shorty bent down to help his wounded boss to sit up and felt blood on the man’s back. It was apparent that Mr. Wildman had at least two holes in him.
Mr. Wildman smiled with his eyes as his face was too split and swollen. “Wesley, it is so good to see you.” Mr. Wildman rasped out. “How was the drive?” Shorty could tell he did not have much time left with this kind old man who had done so much for him. “Drive was great. Better than expected, but what happened here?” Shorty pressed his hand on the wound which seemed to be bleeding the most profusely. Mr. Wildman groaned and briefly faded, closing his eyes. He then sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage. Opening his eyes once more, he looked up at the cattle puncher. “Shorty, you keep the major share of this ranch and take care of my wife. Then give the rest to the church.” A cough shook Mr. Wildman’s body and Shorty held tighter to help support him. Mr. Wildman continued, “I won’t be needing it where I am going.” Mr. Wildman smiled, but Shorty clinched his teeth “Who done it? I will kill them all! I will make them pay for this.” “NO!” Wildman exclaimed as he struggled to hold onto Shorty. “God will repay vengeance on who He sees fit.” Mr. Wildman gasped and then let out a long breath. “The Lord giveth, He taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Mr. Wildman smiled one last time as he slipped into eternity to meet the Lord he loved so much. Shorty could not believe what he had just heard. How could a man who had been beaten and shot in the back be so calm? This gnawed at Shorty as he headed to town after burying the man he had grown to love. The man whom had seen a wounded man and helped no matter the trouble it would bring. Shorty knew only the thought of revenge against those who had hurt this man, his boss. Suddenly it occurred to Shorty, what had happened to Mrs. Wildman? She was probably at the Reverend’s house fellowshipping and had no idea what had happened. Shorty rushed down the trail praying to the God he had heard so much about, hoping He would listen if this just once and allow Mrs. Wildman to be there. Shorty rode into the Reverend’s yard at a blistering pace and pulled up on the reins just as Mrs. Wildman appeared on the front porch. “Shorty? What are you doing here and what is all that blood and dirt on your shirt?” Shorty hung his head as he dismounted. “Mrs. Wildman I am so sorry.” he started to get teary eyed, “John’s been murdered.” Mrs. Wildman put a hand to her mouth and sat down on the stairs. She was silent for a few minutes and Shorty walked up next to her. Finally, with tears in her eyes Mrs. Wildman looked up at Shorty. “Did he die well?” Shorty could barely hold back the tears now, “Yes mam. He died how he lived, with God and others on his lips.” “Well good.” Mrs. Wildman smiled. “He is now running those streets of gold and getting to look into his Savior’s face.” “If God loved him then why was he murdered?” Shorty exploded. “If God loved him then why did he suffer?” Mrs. Wildman stood and gave Shorty a hug. “Because God is in control and knows what we all need.” Mrs. Wildman stood back from Shorty and looked up into the cattleman’s eyes. “Shorty, maybe this is your chance to be saved?” Shorty fell to his knees and raised his hands to heaven. “What must I do to be saved?” Mrs. Wildman took Shorty onto the steps of the Reverend’s house and through Scripture showed him how to be saved.
_____ Five years passed, during which Shorty was called to preach and had started holding revivals all over Texas. He would preach and tell the story of that weather-beaten man with the kind eyes and how even in death God was still God and nothing could change that. Shorty was happy this Lord’s day as he started a weeklong revival in San Antonio. He always loved to preach at the place where he was saved and called to preach. He preached all day Sunday and after the service went over and had some of Mrs. Wildman’s famous Pecan pie. There he shared with Mrs. Wildman all of the blessings God had done in the ministry. After a while Mrs. Wildman asked, “Have you gone to see the grave yet?” “No ma’am, planned on going up there tomorrow morning.” Nearing sunrise, Shorty rolled out of bed and thanked God for another day as he opened that bloodstained Bible that had been latched in his friend’s dying hands years before. Shorty then took his horse to the graveside and was surprised when he saw footprints from boots of men all around the grave. He shrugged and paid them no mind and proceeded to “talk” with Mr. Wildman, telling his former boss of all the Lord’s blessings. On his way back into town those boot marks kept coming back to Shorty’s mind. It was clear that a tall man with a big stride had been there. But one of the boot heals was worn down further than the other. Shorty suspected the man had some type of limp. Putting it out of his mind, Shorty rode back to his hotel room. That night as the choir began to sing “Amazing grace”, Shorty noticed a tall man with a limp walk into the back door of the church and stand just inside of it. After the choir had finished, Shorty got up and preached on the unparalleled grace of God to save someone like him. Shorty headed to the back after the service to see the visitor, but the man was already gone. Tuesday and Wednesday night were the same with the man coming and standing in the back just as the choir would begin to sing and then leave right after the service had ended. Thursday was the almost the same, but this time the man sat on the back pew. Shorty, filled with the Spirit gave all he had with his fiery style of preaching on how God could save anyone. The frequent stranger was on Shorty’s heart as he prayed for Friday night. He prepared to bring a new sermon on how the Lord’s appearing was near, but as he stepped up to the pulpit on that night God changed his mind. Instead, God brought him back to an old familiar sermon, “From a Puncher to a Preacher”. As Shorty preached, he came to the story of that kind eyed man once again. The stranger on the back row began to cry and sob heavily. This time as the invitation started, instead of leaving, the man almost ran to the front. Shorty met him as the man yelled, “God can’t save me! I am the one who killed that kindly old man. I needed some money and thought no one was there, but he surprised me and I dropped a lantern I held which started the fire. Then as he came around the corner of that house and ran past me, I shot him.” Shorty started to cry and through the tears he said, “God is still in control and wants all to be saved.” The big man fell to his knees and was gloriously saved!
Now as Evangelist Shorty Barns travels around Texas, there is a big man with a limp that is in every service. The man sits on the back row, winning anyone that sits near him to Christ. He now has a big smile on his face as he sings “Amazing Grace” and listens to his favorite sermon,“From a Puncher to a Preacher.”
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