The Cowboy’s Morning Prayer
Steam rises from my coffee cup, As dawn breaks soft and still, Snow blankets all the valley wide, Down from the distant hill.
I stand here on this weathered porch, My boots upon the wood, And watch my horses at their hay, Content and warm and good.
The barn stands strong against the white, A sentinel of grace, And in this quiet, holy hour, I seek my Savior’s face.
Lord, thank You for another dawn, Another breath to take, Another chance to ride these hills, Another day to break.
Thank You for this cowboy life, These blessings I don’t earn, The horses nickering soft and low, The lessons that I learn.
The snow that fell while I was safe, Asleep beneath Your eye, The coffee warming up my hands, The peace of morning sky.
And as I watch my horses eat, Their breath like clouds of prayer, I wonder, Lord, with grateful heart— You must be cowboy, there.
You tend Your flock with gentle hands, You know each one by name, You ride the ranges of our souls, Through sunshine and through rain.
You mend our fences when they break, You guide us through the night, You’re the first one in the saddle, Lord, Before the morning light.
Yes, God must have a cowboy heart, To love this life so true, To paint the sunrise on the snow, To make the sky so blue.
So here I stand with grateful soul, Before my work begins, Thanking You for cowboy days, And grace that never ends.
The horses wait, the work calls out, But first I bow my head, And thank the God who rides with me, For every trail ahead.
Amen