Remembering Cowboy

My wife called me Saturday to tell me the news that my cousin “Cowboy” had passed away. I thought it was providential that she would let me know at this particular moment in time as I was in the middle of cleaning the filter on the septic tank pump. There I was, surrounded by poo and wearing it too.

If anyone could have appreciated the timing of that it was Cowboy.

I will truly miss him. Cowboy was good at a lot of things, as many of my family members have mentioned in their posts on Facebook, but the two things that he was really good at was loving his Lord Jesus and letting his Lord Jesus love people through him.

Cowboy was real. He never tried to be something that he wasn’t and that allowed him to be all that he was for God.

The truest of Christians never have to mention Jesus’ name for you to know that they love Him. I guess that is what makes their witness so powerful when they do open their mouths and speak of the unconditional love of God that was given through His son Jesus, because it was witnessed in the actions long before the hearing ever took place.

This was Cowboy.

You never had to guess with Cowboy. He never had to say a word and yet you knew that there was something going on inside of him that was greater than himself.

Cowboy was full of life. Most people walk on this earth from start to finish concerned so much with living that they forget to live. Not Cowboy.

He was loud and boisterous. He loved to laugh and joke, and he wasn’t afraid to insert himself into your life if he saw that you needed what he had in his Lord Jesus, whether you wanted him there or not.

He and I were very much “kindred” spirits.

I didn’t get to see him often but when we got together it was as if we were never apart. We would just pick up where we had left off the previous time and continue on from there.

A part of me has left this earth. I have wanted for so long to be free of the shackles of this cold dark world and go to be with Jesus. Cowboy has gotten there before me, and I am not ashamed to admit that I am somewhat jealous.

I will say that now he is there, all of us who have yet to go will have an even greater reception than we would have had before cause that fella will be waiting and watching that gate.

I will also say that when I do get there with Cowboy, that everyone in heaven will finally realize once and for all that, yes, God will truly allow ANYONE in here. Well… that same thing can be said for any of you hillbillies so…never mind.

I was thinking about our family this morning and God showed me a vision of a beautiful painting. I could tell that it had a lot of layers because the image lifted off the canvas.

This is family.

There are those members that create structure with their flowing lines and hard corners, they determine, in some part, what the picture is going to look like. Then there are those that like to paint outside the lines, the proverbial “black sheep” and these people, even though they go against the line work that was already laid down, add character and whimsy to the painting. Let’s face it. Like them or not, the black sheep are the ones that get the most attention and are the ones that get remembered often… and a lot of fun to talk about at reunions.

Then the color is added. Those family members that are larger than life. You cannot help but love them even when you’re mad at them. They add life to the painting and make it visibly beautiful.

That was Cowboy.

No matter how many layers are put onto our family painting from this point on, it will take ages to cover up the colors that he added to it. I love you my brother and can not wait to see you again.