Preacher and the Rusty Chain
By David Stanfield

Let me put some words together in a crude and humble style
For my heart is far less bitter and my face can wear a smile.
For the reason for my story is how a man can change
When he meets those Christian people who live across the range.

When I met her in the kitchen and saw her sitting there
I gathered she was special and something very rare.
And when I met her husband and saw his happy smiling face
I knew that he and I were running in a different race.

Now I've said enough about them in person I'll admit
So gather from my story, the words, and make them fit.
Their transport was a wagon mounted on a pair of wings
Two motors and a headlight and lot of other things.

It was painted white and yellow and was anything but spruce
It travelled very slowly and it chewed a lot of juice.
But the main thing in my story is not about their ship
But how their short stay with us from my shoulder moved a chip.

He spoke of Jesus Christ the Lord as preachers mostly do
Who sometimes find it very hard to get the message through.
I know you won't take credit but you made me stop and see
And I think that you were sent by Him to come and see to me.

Then the morn of your departure we smiled and said goodbye
And my eyes were filled with tears as we waved you in the sky.
And as the dust had settled from that noisy aeroplane,
I was sad, yet rejoicing, I had severed through that chain.

I had severed through that rusty chain that still was strong and hard
And I thank the Lord Almighty that He dealt you out my card.

© Moods and Memories, 1989

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