by Cowboy Evangelist Joseph Holmes

Before the dawn breaks cold and clear, I saddle up without no fear, My boots are worn, my rope is frayed, But honest work's how debts are paid.

I mend the fence, I chase the stray, I ride the trail 'fore break of day, Though dust and sweat may cloud my eyes, I'm working for a higher prize.

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, As working for the Lord, not for human masters." —Colossians 3:23

These cattle ain't just mine to tend, This broken gate ain't mine to mend, Each nail I drive, each rope I throw, Is for the One who made it so.

He sees me out here, all alone, Upon this saddle, not a throne, But every task, both small and great, I lay before the Pearly Gate.

So when my bones are tired and sore, When I can't give a single drop more, I'll tip my hat up to the sky, And know I gave it all—that's why.

For cowboy work is holy ground, When faithful hearts are heaven-bound, With calloused hands and spirit true, I work for Him in all I do.