Cowboys And God Quotes

Librarians, Dusty, possess a vast store of politeness. These are people who get asked regularly the dumbest questions on God's green earth. These people tolerate every kind of crank and eccentric and mouth breather there is.

I believe that people who are devoutly religious, within any specific religion, have no true respect for the ultimate vastness that is God.

I knew him instantly, even though he'd...changed. I think in a crowd of a million people, I would have recognized him. The connection between us would allow nothing else. And after being deprived of him for so long, I drank in every feature. The dark, chin-length hair, worn loose tonight and curling slightly around his face. The familiar set of lips, quirked now in an amused yet chilling smile. He even wore the duster he always wore, the long leather coat that could have come straight out of a cowboy movie. [...] The eyes. Oh God, the eyes. Even with that sickening red ring around his pupils, his eyes still reminded me of the Dimitri I'd known. The look in his eyes—the soulless, malicious gleam—that was nothing like him. But there was just enough resemblance to stir my heart, to overwhelm my senses and feelings. My stake was ready. All I had to do was keep swinging to make the kill. I had momentum on my side... But I couldn't. I just needed a few more seconds, a few more seconds to drink him in before I killed him. And that's when he spoke. "Roza." His voice had the same wonderful lowness, the same accent...it was just colder. "You forgot my first lesson: Don't hesitate.

He can take a few pain relievers when he gets back to the ranch. You're not dealing with your wussy city boys, Rowen." "That's right," I said, rolling my eyes even though he had his back to me. "I forgot you all are invincible gods." Garth looked over his shoulder, "Nope, we're even better than that." I could see his smile gleam. "We're cowboys.

I don't like feeling sorry for myself. That's not who I am. And most of the time I don't feel that way. Instead, I am grateful for having at least found you. We could have flashed by one another like two pieces of cosmic dust. God or the universe or whatever one chooses to label the great systems of balance and order does not recognize Earth-time. To the universe, four days is no different than four billion light years. I try to keep that in mind. But, I am, after all, a man. And all the philosophic rationalizations I can conjure up do not keep me from wanting you, every day, every moment, the merciless wail of time, of time I can never spend with you, deep within my head. I love you, profoundly and completely. And I always will. The last cowboy, Robert

To hell with it. I'm jumping in his bed tonight and having myself a nice little birthday. He's wearing cowboy boots for God's sake. The man doesn't play fair.

Whenever one would see a little filly that caught his eye, he would look at her and simply say one word that would alert the others that she has been claimed and was strictly off-limits to the rest of the McCoys. Stepping closer to the table, he loudly proclaimed, "Tag!" As soon as the word had left Aron's mouth, the younger men looked up at him in suprise. Issac bit back a snort, and Jacob simply said, "Thank God." Their brother has finally decided to come out of hiding.

God is the one thing, the only thing, I know is true.

She is drinking peach tea in the plaza and she is too hot because her blue and black checked shirt is for winter not for summer in Andalucía. I think she thinks she’s a cowboy in her work shirt, always alone with no one to look at the mountain horizon at night and say my god those stars.

Our God is sovereign. That means there's no such thing as luck. Anything that happens to you, good or bad, must pass through His fingers first. There are no accidents with God. I like the story of the cowboy who applied for health insurance. The agent routinely asked him, 'Have you ever had any accidents?' The cowboy replied, 'Well no, I've not had any accidents. I was bitten by a rattlesnake once, and a horse did kick me in the ribs. That laid me up for a while, but I haven't had any accidents.' The agent said, 'Wait a minute. I'm confused. A rattlesnake bit you, and a horse kicked you, Weren't those accidents?' 'No, they did that on purpose.

This is the kind of China you Americans always see in the movies - the poor countryside, people wearing big hats to protect themselves from the sun. No, I never wore a hat like that! I was from Shanghai. That's like thinking someone from San Francisco wears a cowboy hat and rides a horse. Ridiculous!

I shall never sacrifice a friend to an ideal. I shall never desert a friend to save an institution. I shall never betray a friend for the sake of the law. Great nations may fall in ruin before I shall sell a friend to preserve them. I pray to the God within me to give me the power to live by this design.

God gave women breasts to admire, and a heart-shaped ass as a consolation when they walk away.

He's what a man would look like if a roman god and rugged cowboy had a baby.

Was that what God promised? Not to pluck him out of the fiery trials but to be there in the midst of them?

Please, God, help me not to be afraid to love again.

It’s not what you think, Z. Turn on those god powers and use them. I am not responsible for her knowledge of nothing.” – Sundown “Impressively screwed-up syntax there, Cowboy. Glad I could follow it…Sort of. As for the powers, don’t really have time to scan her and I really don’t give a shit. Rather kill her and save myself the expended energy for something I might actually enjoy…like picking my pose.” – Zarek ‘Ew. Someone was socially awkward.’ – Abigail

This is a love story,” Michael Dean says, ”but really what isn’t? Doesn’t the detective love the mystery or the chase, or the nosey female reporter who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely, the serial murder loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets, or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice-trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk. Just as the housewives live for catching glimpses of their own botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors and the rocked out dude on ‘roids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on hookbook. Because this is reality, they are all in love, madly, truly, with the body-mic clipped to their back-buckle and the producer casually suggesting, “Just one more angle.”, “One more jello shot.”. And the robot loves his master. Alien loves his saucer. Superman loves Lois. Lex and Lana. Luke loves Leia, til he finds out she’s his sister. And the exorcist loves the demon, even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace. As Leo loves Kate, and they both love the sinking ship. And the shark, god the shark, loves to eat. Which is what the Mafioso loves too, eating and money and Pauly and Omertà. The way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar and sometimes loves the other cowboy. As the vampire loves night and neck. And the zombie, don’t even start with the zombie, sentimental fool, has anyone ever been more love-sick than a zombie, that pale dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms. His very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains. This, too is a love story.

All I'm saying is that you shouldn't rule out the possibility that God has a hand in all our lives--yours, mine, your aunt's and Dub's. Have you considered that you might be here for a reason , and perhaps it has nothing to do Big Heart Ranch's donation?"~Lucy Maxwell

A little boy, he can play like he's a fireman or a cop--although fewer and fewer are pretending to be cops, thank God--or a deep-sea diver or a quarterback or a spaceman or a rock 'n roll star or a cowboy, or anything else glamorous and exciting (Author's note: What about a novelist, Jellybean?), and although chances are by the time he's in high school he'll get channeled into safer, duller ambitions, the great truth is, he can be any of those things, realize any of those fantasies, if he has the strength, nerve and sincere desire...But little girls? Podner, you know that story as well as me. Give 'em doll babies, tea sets and toy stoves. And if they show a hankering for more bodacious playthings, call 'em tomboy, humor 'em for a few years and then slip 'em the bad news...And the reality is, we got about as much chance of growing up to be cowgirls as Eskimos have got being vegetarians.

Is it too much to ask the gods for a happy life together?” Caulder McCutchen from Hey, Cowboy, Book #2

God loves you so much. There's nothing you can do that would make Him leave you.~ page 126

... nothing surprises God. You have to remember, He knew what was ahead of you, and He has a plan to help you deal with it.

Was that the way God was with His children? Did He drive them through difficulties, up steep mountains, because He cared and was leading them to better pastures?

Flynn didn't bring you here expecting you to work a miracle in Brody's life. Only God can do that.

Seymour, we do not dignify absurdities with coverage. This is still America, god damnit! Who wants a cowboy actor in the White House?

If I've learned one thing it's that we can't live in regret. God doesn't want that for our lives. ~Barrett Thorn

I seem to have misplaced a good excuse for why I haven't given God the time of day.

If God had decided to build His own church, it would’ve been the mountains. There a man can live like He intended us to live, and never forget that He is there.

God, Blake Tanner is perfect…maybe too perfect for someone like me. But I’m too selfish to let her go now. Not that I could.

Maybe if God did a better job of protecting those he loved, then he wouldn't need to try to be God.

But it doesn't happen that way, I keep telling myself knowingly and sadly. Only in our fraternity pledges and masonic inductions, our cowboy movies and magazine stories, not in our real-life lives. For, the seventeenth-century humanist to the contrary, each man is an island complete unto himself, and as he sinks, the moving feet go on around him, from nowhere to nowhere and with no time to lose. The world is long past the Boy Scout stage of its development; now each man dies as he was meant to die, and as he was born, and as he lived: alone, all alone. Without any God, without any hope, without any record to show for his life. ("New York Blues")

Even if your all alone, God's still there. He loves you. and you don't have to be perfect. You can make mistakes. God still loves you. He'll never leave you. Even if you do the naughtiest thing ever, He still loves you and won't leave you (Amy to four-year-old Ruby)~ page 127

They were doing something so right, protecting the mustangs. As wild as they were, they had incredible potential if tamed by the right hands. Wasn't that how it was with God? When others gave up, He kept going, kept pursuing, always seeing the potential of a person tamed by His hands.

God made a wonderful mother, "A Mother who never grows old. "He made her smile of sunshine. "And he molded her heart of pure of pure gold." "In her eyes he placed bright shinning stars. "In her cheeks fair roses you see. "God made a wonderful mother. "And he gave that wonderful mother to me.

You know, so many people through the years have had heroes. That's what a cowboy is. But the thing that he stands for more than anything else in the world is honor. Pride. He believes in his God and takes care of his country or his livestock. He's a fair and honest man, he has a lotta integrity.

All that adrenaline running through him with no outlet - God, what would sex be like with a man who literally vibrated with energy the way he was now? Explosive. Unforgettable. The exact opposite of how sex with Jerry had been. Becca realized that, against all common sense, she was dying to find out.

I’m not a big drinker and I’ve had enough secondhand smoke for this decade and the next, so . . .” Great. All she had to do was complain about the deafening volume of the music, and she might as well slap a sticker on her forehead saying old next to the one that already said nerd. “Band’s good, though,” she added. “Country’s not my thing, but the players are . . . proficient.” And great, now she sounded like a professor. Proficient. God. But he was nodding. “Country’s not my thing, either.” “But you have a cowboy hat,” she said, and as soon as the words left her lips, she realized how stupid she sounded, no—not that she sounded, but that she was.

Oh. My. God." he murmured as it all ended in a crescendo complete with beautiful sparks and all the bells and whistles of fantastic makeup sex. Five full minutes later he propped up on a an elbow and kissed the tip of her nose. "Can we fight again tomorrow?" She smiled up at him. "I was thinking of starting an argument right now.

She washed her hands three times. Velia gripped the sink, dropping her head and watching the tinged water drain. Trying to get a grip, she held back tears and vomit, and would have been fine if not for seeing more blood splatters on her sleeves. She held on to her last bit of strength, still refusing to cry. God, let this be a nightmare!

Whenever she considered God’s exquisite design of something so small as a blade of grass, or the petal of a flower, she was always able to put her own life into better perspective. If He cared so much about the plants and their challenges to grow and remain strong, then surely He cared even more about the challenges and struggles she faced as a woman…

A Republican, then?” Jack asked, after a moment. “Oh, for God’s sake.” Olive stopped walking, looked at him through her sunglasses. “I didn’t say moron. You mean because we have a cowboy for a president? Or before that an actor who played a cowboy? Let me tell you, that idiot ex-cocaine-addict was never a cowboy. He can wear all the cowboy hats he wants. He’s a spoiled brat to the manor born. And he makes me puke.

You look at the crime and you look at the criminal. If it's a dope dealer who guns down an undercover narcotics officer, then he gets the gas. If it's a drifter who rapes a three-year-old girl, drowns her by holding her little head in a mudhole, then throws her body off a bridge, then you take his life and thank god he's gone. If it's an escaped convict who breaks into a farmhouse late at night and beats and tortures an elderly couple before burning them with their house, then you strap him in a chair, hook up a few wires, pray for his soul, and pull the switch. And if it's two dopeheads who gang-rape a ten-year-old girl and kick her with pointed-toe cowboy boots until her jaws break, then you happily, merrily, thankfully, gleefully lock them in a gas chamber and listen to them squeal. It's very simple. Their crimes were barbaric. Death is too good for them, much too good.

This is a love story, Michael Deane says. But, really, what isn’t? Doesn’t the detective love the mystery, or the chase, or the nosy female reporter, who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely the serial murderer loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck, and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk just as the Housewives live for catching glimpses of their own Botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors, and the rocked-out dude on ‘roids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on Hookbook, and because this is reality, they are all in love—madly, truly—with the body mic clipped to their back buckle, and the producer casually suggesting just one more angle, one more Jell-O shot. And the robot loves his master, alien loves his saucer, Superman loves Lois, Lex, and Lana, Luke love Leia (till he finds out she’s his sister), and the exorcist loves the demon even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace, as Leo loves Kate and they both love the sinking ship, and the shark—God, the shark loves to eat, which is what the Mafioso loves, too—eating and money and Paulie and omerta` --the way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar, and sometimes loves the other cowboy, as the vampire loves night and neck, and the zombie—don’t even start with the zombie, sentimental fool; has anyone ever been more lovesick than a zombie, that pale, dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms, his very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains? This, too, is a love story.

After all of this is over and Tuck and Becca leave for their wedding night at the hotel, I don't want to be the sister of the bride or the maid of honor or anything else with responsibilities attached to it. I want to forget about everything and just have fun. Be. Feel. Live in the moment. And God, it's been so long since I've had sex." She stopped and looked up at his face. "Did I scare you yet?" Scared, no. Speechless, yes, but only because all the blood in his body had rushed to his penis. Logan shook his head. "Nope, I'm definitely not scared. You, uh, have any candidates in mind for this night of reckless abandon?

Grinning to himself, Blue went out the door pulling out on his T-shirt. So sue him, he had changed his mind, but he sure wasn’t going to quite admit it. She’d laugh like a hyena, and he had some pride. He found his hat, made sure to clean up Roy’s kitchen, and went out to see to the horses. God, had he ever had so much fun in a relationship before? Most of them had been just about sex, and he and Jenna still hadn’t even done that. Maybe that was the secret. Liking someone first and then realizing you wanted to make love to them made a lot more sense. Blue put on his hat. And he would be making love with Jenna, he was damned sure about that. Sometimes even a Marine had to reassess his priorities. 44%

The door clicked. She inhaled a tiny gasp. "You should use the deadbolt." "I was expecting you," she said. "I was afraid you might change your mind." "No, Reid. I haven't changed my mind. No games, right?" His hot gaze raked slowly up and down her body. He doffed his hat and tossed it on the chair. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Haley Cooper. His voice was low and husky, inciting tiny ripples deep inside her sex. He was in tight control, but his desire was palpable, like some powerful force that was about to unleash. He extended his hand. She approached with an intentional slow and seductive sway of her hips, shivering again as their gazes met and held. Oh dear God. All the foreplay she needed was right there, reflected in his blue eyes.

A cavalry of sweaty but righteous blond gods chased pesky, unkempt people across an annoyingly leaky Mexican border. A grimy cowboy with a headdress of scrawny vultures lay facedown in fiery sands at the end of a trail of his own groveling claw marks, body flattened like a roadkill, his back a pincushion of Apache arrows. He rose and shook his head as if he had merely walked into a doorknob. Never mind John Wayne and his vultures and an “Oregon Trail” lined with the Mesozoic buttes of the Southwest, where the movies were filmed, or the Indians who were supposed to be northern plains Cheyenne but actually were Navajo extras in costume department Sioux war bonnets saying mischievous, naughty things in Navajo, a language neither filmmaker nor audience understood anyway, but which the interpreter onscreen translated as soberly as his forked tongue could manage, “Well give you three cents an acre.” Never mind the ecologically incorrect arctic loon cries on the soundtrack. I loved that desert.

Before I knew it, the first animal had entered the chute. Various cowboys were at different positions around the animal and began carrying out their respective duties. Tim looked at me and yelled, “Stick it in!” With utter trepidation, I slid the wand deep into the steer’s rectum. This wasn’t natural. This wasn’t normal. At least it wasn’t for me. This was definitely against God’s plan. I was supposed to check the monitor and announce if the temperature was above ninety-degrees. The first one was fine. But before I had a chance to remove the probe, Tim set the hot branding iron against the steer’s left hip. The animal let out a guttural Mooooooooooooo!, and as he did, the contents of its large intestine emptied all over my hand and forearm. Tim said, “Okay, Ree, you can take it out now.” I did. I didn’t know what to do. My arm was covered in runny, stinky cow crap. Was this supposed to happen? Should I say anything? I glanced at my sister, who was looking at me, completely horrified. The second animal entered the chute. The routine began again. I stuck it in. Tim branded. The steer bellowed. The crap squirted out. I was amazed at how consistent and predictable the whole nasty process was, and how nonchalant everyone--excluding my sister--was acting. But then slowly…surely…I began to notice something. On about the twentieth animal, I began inserting the thermometer. Tim removed his branding iron from the fire and brought it toward the steer’s hip. At the last second, however, I fumbled with my device and had to stop for a moment. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that when I paused, Tim did, too. It appeared he was actually waiting until I had the thermometer fully inserted before he branded the animal, ensuring that I’d be right in the line of fire when everything came pouring out. He had planned this all along, the dirty dog. Seventy-eight steers later, we were finished. I was a sight. Layer upon layer of manure covered my arm. I’m sure I was pale and in shock. The cowboys grinned politely. Tim directed me to an outdoor faucet where I could clean my arm. Marlboro Man watched as he gathered up the tools and the gear…and he chuckled. As my sister and I pulled away in the car later that day, she could only say, “Oh. My. God.” She made me promise never to return to that awful place. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d found out later that this, from Tim’s perspective, was my initiation. It was his sick, twisted way of measuring my worth.

I told my best friend in the world, my sister. “Okay, so I’m not going now,” I told Betsy over the phone. I’d awakened her from a deep collegiate sleep. “Going where?” she asked groggily. “Chicago,” I continued. “What?” she shrieked. That woke her up. That woke her up but good. “I’m, like, totally in love,” I said. “I’m totally in love with the Marlboro Man.” I giggled wildly. “Oh, God,” she said. “Are you gonna get married to him and move out to the boonies and have his babies?” “No!” I exclaimed. “I’m not moving to the boonies. But I might have his babies.” I giggled wildly again. “What about Chicago?” Betsy asked. “Well…but…,” I argued. “You have to see him in his Wranglers.” Betsy paused. “Well, so much for this conversation. I’ve gotta go back to sleep anyway--I’ve got class at noon and I’m exhausted…” “And you should see him in his cowboy boots,” I continued. “Alrighty, then…” “Okay, well, don’t worry about me,” I continued. “I’ll just be here, kissing the Marlboro Man twenty-four hours a day in case you need me.” “Whatever…,” Betsy said, trying hard not to laugh. “Okay, well…study hard!” I told her. “Yep,” she replied. “And don’t sleep around,” I admonished. “Gotcha,” Betsy replied. She was used to this. “And don’t smoke crack,” I added. “Righty-oh,” she replied, yawning. “Don’t skip class, either,” I warned. “You mean, like you did?” Betsy retorted. “Well, then, don’t go all the way!” I repeated. Click.

This is a love story, Michael Deane says. But, really, what isn’t? Doesn’t the detective love the mystery, or the chase, or the nosy female reporter, who is even now being held against her wishes at an empty warehouse on the waterfront? Surely the serial murderer loves his victims, and the spy loves his gadgets or his country or the exotic counterspy. The ice trucker is torn between his love for ice and truck, and the competing chefs go crazy for scallops, and the pawnshop guys adore their junk, just as the Housewives live for catching glimpses of their own Botoxed brows in gilded hall mirrors, and the rocked-out dude on ’roids totally wants to shred the ass of the tramp-tatted girl on Hookbook, and because this is reality, they are all in love—madly, truly—with the body mic clipped to their back buckle, and the producer casually suggesting just one more angle, one more Jell-O shot. And the robot loves his master, alien loves his saucer, Superman loves Lois, Lex, and Lana, Luke loves Leia (till he finds out she’s his sister), and the exorcist loves the demon even as he leaps out the window with it, in full soulful embrace, as Leo loves Kate and they both love the sinking ship, and the shark—God, the shark loves to eat, which is what the mafioso loves, too—eating and money and Paulie and omertà—the way the cowboy loves his horse, loves the corseted girl behind the piano bar, and sometimes loves the other cowboy, as the vampire loves night and neck, and the zombie—don’t even start with the zombie, sentimental fool; has anyone ever been more lovesick than a zombie, that pale, dull metaphor for love, all animal craving and lurching, outstretched arms, his very existence a sonnet about how much he wants those brains? This, too, is a love story.

One day Marlboro Man invited my sister, Betsy, and me to the ranch to work cattle. She was home from college and bored, and Marlboro Man wanted Tim to meet another member of my family. “Working cattle” is the term used to describe the process of pushing cattle, one by one, through a working chute, during which time they are branded, dehorned, ear tagged, and “doctored” (temperature taken, injections given). The idea is to get all the trauma and mess over with in one fell swoop so the animals can spend their days grazing peacefully in the pasture. When Betsy and I pulled up and parked, Tim greeted us at the chute and immediately assigned us our duties. He handed my sister a hot shot, which is used to gently zap the animal’s behind to get it to move through the chute. It’s considered the easy job. “You’ll be pushing ’em through,” Tim told Betsy. She dutifully took the hot shot, studying the oddly shaped object in her hands. Next, Tim handed me an eight-inch-long, thick-gauge probe with some kind of electronic device attached. “You’ll be taking their temperature,” Tim informed me. Easy enough, I thought. But how does this thing fit into its ear? Or does it slide under its arm somehow? Perhaps I insert it under the tongue? Will the cows be okay with this? Tim showed me to my location--at the hind end of the chute. “You just wait till the steer gets locked in the chute,” Tim directed. “Then you push the stick all the way in and wait till I tell you to take it out.” Come again? The bottom fell out of my stomach as my sister shot me a worried look, and I suddenly wished I’d eaten something before we came. I felt weak. I didn’t dare question the brother of the man who made my heart go pitter-pat, but…in the bottom? Up the bottom? Seriously? Before I knew it, the first animal had entered the chute. Various cowboys were at different positions around the animal and began carrying out their respective duties. Tim looked at me and yelled, “Stick it in!” With utter trepidation, I slid the wand deep into the steer’s rectum. This wasn’t natural. This wasn’t normal. At least it wasn’t for me. This was definitely against God’s plan.

In the middle of the night, Alexander—with the moist towel still on his face—was startled out of sleep by the cheerful drunken whisper of Ouspensky, who was shaking him awake, while taking his hand and placing into it something soft and warm. It took Alexander a moment to recognize the softness and warmness as a large human breast, a breast still attached to a human female, albeit a not entirely sober human female, who breathed fire on him, kneeled near his bed and said something in Polish that sounded like, “Wake up, cowboy, paradise is here.” “Lieutenant,” said Alexander in Russian, “you’re going on the rack tomorrow.” “You will pray to me as if I’m your god tomorrow. She is bought and paid for. Have a good one.” Ouspensky lowered the flaps on the tent and disappeared. Sitting up and turning on his kerosene lamp, Alexander was faced with a young, boozy, not unattractive Polish face. For a minute as he sat up, they watched each other, he with weariness, she with drunken friendliness. “I speak Russian,” she said in Russian. “I’m going to get into trouble being here?” “Yes,” said Alexander. “You better go back.” “Oh, but your friend…” “He is not my friend. He is my sworn enemy. He has brought you here to poison you. You need to go back quickly.” He helped her sit up. Her swinging breasts were exposed through her open dress. Alexander was naked except for his BVDs. He watched her appraise him. “Captain,” she said, “you’re not telling me you are poison? You don’t look like poison.” She reached out for him. “You don’t feel like poison.” She paused, whispering, “At ease, soldier.” Moving away from her slightly—only slightly—Alexander started to put on his trousers. She stopped him by rubbing him. He sighed, moving her hand away. “You left a sweetheart behind? I can tell. You’re missing her. I see many men like you.” “I bet you do.” “They always feel better after they’re with me. So relieved. Come on. What’s the worst that can happen? You will enjoy yourself?” “Yes,” said Alexander. “That’s the worst that can happen.” She stuck out her hand holding a French letter. “Come on. Nothing to be afraid of.” “I’m not afraid,” said Alexander. “Oh, come on.” He buckled his belt. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.” “You have some chocolate?” she said, smiling. “I’ll suck you off for some chocolate.” Alexander wavered, lingering on her bare breasts. “As it turns out, I do have some chocolate,” he said, throbbing everywhere, including his heart. “You can have it all.” He paused. “And you don’t even have to suck me off.” The Polish girl’s eyes cleared for a moment. “Really?” “Really.” He reached into his bag and handed her some small pieces of chocolate wrapped in foil. Hungrily she shoved the bars into her mouth and swallowed them whole. Alexander raised his eyebrows. “Better the chocolate than me,” he said. The girl laughed. “Will you really walk me back?” she said. “Because the streets are not safe for a girl like me.” Alexander took his machine gun. “Let’s go.

She always thought of Aaron as special not less. He was God’s gift to her, and she wouldn’t trade him for the world.

I met a man in a tin train station Army bags and a Randall knife His train came in, but he stayed waitin' Scared to Death, too full of Life. The years around his eyes were many The words he spoke of them were few. "I see," he said "that you are a cowboy. I wish to god that I was one too. "But you see, I was a soldier. I toyed with Death and played with Life. Called myself the Delta Outlaw, Built a legend with my gun and knife." My train came in, but he stayed waitin' Army bags and that Randall knife Dreamin' cowboy dreams in an old train station Scared of Death, too full of Life.

I don't know where I'd be today without my faith, Heath. It's been my mainstay when people let me down. When man failed me, God stood watch. ~pg. 128

He’s crazy. All you goddamned hick cops are crazy. In the cities, man, the cops are usually just dudes doing a job of work, and some of them like it and some don’t, some are good, some bad. But none of them think they’re gonna save the world from evil. Hick cops always think they’re John Wayne making the frontier safe for decent, God-fearing folk. That’s why we’re having this drink, man, ‘cause you’re a crazy cowboy.

It all began with a son who was lost and who had lost his way, now it ends with a man who has found God and in finding God, he has also found love.

Doing my best to make the world a better place through my work and family.” “Do your best and let God do the rest.

We are people, and my plea is Let me be a someone, holy through and through, asking for nothing but what God wants to give me, receiving with both hands and with all my heart whatever that is.

Lord... We are people, and my plea is Let me be a someone, holy through and through, asking for nothing but what God wants to give me, receiving with both hands and with all my heart whatever that is.

God knows I'm not perfect, you've just got to take a good hard look at yourself, change what needs to be changed, and move on.

Hide yourself in God, so when someone wants to find you, they will have to go there first.

Be thankful for what you have; Give yourself fully to God. He will use you to accomplish great things on the condition that you believe much more in his love than in your weakness.

Remember that wherever your heart is, God is a best friend that stands beside you when others cast stones you will never be afraid, never feel worthless and never feel alone.

God had led her to this moment by proving that love is stronger than fear.

So thankful. I've been in situations where I think, I just can't cope with this. But then I stop and pray to God. And somehow, he's got me through so much. I look back now and I can't believe I actually came through those things...

They were doing something so right, protecting the mustangs. As wild as they were, they had incredible potential if tamed by the right hands. Wasn’t that how it was with God? When other gave up, he kept going, kept pursuing, always seeing the potential of a person tamed by His hands.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. God handed you the privilege of living this day in a manner entirely unique to every yesterday and all tomorrows.

God makes you stronger than any words people may say about you. It doesn't matter how many times you get knock down. Just as long as you keep fighting and getting back up.

God gave you life. Only you can give it meaning.

the lustful, passionate attraction kind of love, but the self-sacrificial, the putting you ahead of me, the thinking about you, and knowing you better than I know myself, and wanting to do everything I can to make you smile, keep you secure, protect you, and live my life in a way that honors you and glorifies God kind of love. That’s how I will love you.

God ain’t here, baby. If you wanted God, you should’ve stayed away from cowboys,” he ground out as he snapped his hips again, pulling out of me and thrusting back in. “Ironic, seeing as how your wet little pussy is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever fucking felt.

A Morning of Being Grateful Dear Father God, I thank you for waking me up today, another day of life. You have given me another sunrise to enjoy. Thank you, Lord God, for the wonderful sounds of nature and the cool breeze brushing through the trees making the birds sing beautiful melodies. You are a great Father, Lord, always full of grace and mercy. I praise you, Father, for allowing me to live another beautiful day in Your Kingdom. Thank you for the gifts of family and friends. Holding them in my heart is one of the most precious things I can never get tired of. Bless everyone, Father, for they deserve all the goodness you have given to me. If I may do something wrong today, please forgive me. I also thank you for always being the reason in my head when it comes to decision-making.

My body vibrates as I laugh with my entire being. Good God, I love this woman.

Not as long as we live,” Eli says. “Which, God willing, is going to be a long, long time.

defiant rugged Outlaw Country this country must stop selling our land to foreigners Be hell to pay take back America Tell it like it is this is America we stand up for God and our rights

Take Back America Old Glory's wavin' high but there's a shadow in our land, They're sellin' off our roots to foreign hands. Cowboys livin' broke while strangers make their stand, It's high time we reclaimed this promised land. [Verse 2] From the prairies to the plains, where the wild rivers flow, We've built our homes on pride but now it's gettin' sold. Politicians turnin' blind, as if they didn't know, But real Americans, we can see the show. [Chorus] We won't back down, no, we won't compromise, For our country, we'll rise and defy. Standin' up for what is ours, with God on our side, Hell to pay, take back America, it's our right. [Verse 3] They barter bits of history for a dollar and a cent, But they can't buy the years our families spent. Sweat and tears on crimson fields where our forefathers bled, Warriors of the free, never easily led. [Bridge] From the smokestacks to the mountains, every rusted coastal town, We hear the echoes calling, time to turn this train around. We'll fight with all we've got, feel it as our duty bound, Keep the spirit of America, on solid ground. [Chorus] We won't back down, no, we won't compromise, For our country, we'll rise and defy. Standin' up for what is ours, with God on our side, Hell to pay, take back America, it's our right.

This Land is Our Home [Verse] From the rolling plains to the mountain high, Our fathers bled and fought, they didn't die for a lie. Now the ghost of our past whispers in the wind, Saying "Son, don't let the dream die, fight to the end." [Verse 2] The city folks in their ivory towers, Selling out our lands for their fleeting powers. But out here in the country, we'll make a stand, With calloused hands we'll take back this land. [Chorus] This land is our home, and we're not backing down, We stand for our God and the small-town crowd. Proud to be American, we ain't selling our soul, There'll be hell to pay, we're taking back control. [Verse 3] From the chapel bells to the fields of grain, The spirit of this country runs deep in our veins. Mama's prayers, Daddy's hardened hands, We fight for the future, we take a stand. [Verse 4] In the quiet dawn, we hear the land's lament, Sold to the highest bidder, they don't repent. But we're the heartland, the rock of this earth, We'll reclaim our pride, know what it's worth. [Chorus] This land is our home, and we're not backing down, We stand for our God and the small-town crowd. Proud to be American, we ain't selling our soul, There'll be hell to pay, we're taking back control.

My cowboy fucks like a god and treats me like a princess, and I’m so painfully fucking aware that our time together is coming to an end.

I've been thanking God for you being there. For you risking your life for Dove. I'll never forget it, Tyler. I'll never forget you...." "Truth is, Lily, I'll never forget you either.

The old cowboy doffs his hat and says, “Much obliged,” as an expression of gratitude. I’m obligated to you, he is saying. The words imply humility: that I cannot get along by myself. They imply reliance: that I need the people around me, that I need God. They imply value: that I recognize the cost involved in the giving. And the words imply gladness: that my life has been filled with the joy that comes when human beings connect in gracious ways. That’s

He didn’t deserve the comfort that God promised.   And yet Roger still sought it, still turned the pages in the bible looking for something.   He found that ugly word “comfort” yet again in the book of Corinthians.   “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.”   Was that the answer, then? Because Christ suffered and died for Roger’s sins, Roger had to suffer for Christ? Mary, Millie, and Kate had to suffer and die?

Roger realized that he was looking for a way to be human again.   The bible fell open to the book of Ecclesiastes, and he drank in the words he found on the page.   “He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”   That passage was the closest he’d had to comfort yet. Strange — it didn’t mention anything about comfort and healing. The only thing it mentioned was that man wasn’t supposed to have the answers.   Roger supposed that on some level he realized that he would never know God’s plan, the reasoning behind the Lord taking his family from him.   But this was the bible telling him that it was all right, that it was perfectly natural that he didn’t understand why these tragic things had taken place.

A dozen deer stood in the pasture right across the fence. The big buck held his head proud and tall, antlers gathering snow as he watched over his harem. "Isn't he majestic?" She turned around so she could keep an eyes on him longer. "Not as majestic as you look in that coat," he said. "It's a work coat, for God's sake, Finn, and that's a horrible pickup line." "Just stating facts.

She stared at his nude body in awe. "My God, you look like a Greek god in the moonlight," she whispered. 'Darlin', Greek gods do not have black hair. They're all blonds," he said. "Darlin,' I'm telling this story and you are a Greek god in it.

God bless the corners of this house, and be the lintel blest, and bless the hearth and bless the board and bless each place of rest, and bless each door that opens wide to stranger as to kin. And bless each crystal window pane that lets the starlight in, and bless the rooftree overhead and every sturdy wall. The peace of man, the peace of God, the peace of love on all. Amen.

Our attitude is a result of our perception of reality, which is as much a reflection of time as anything else: what we have encountered in the past, our present situation, and how we see the future unfolding. People of faith can put their past behind them; all has been forgiven. We can also be buoyed in the present by the realization that all things must pass. That leaves the greatest source of optimism for the Christian: the certain future that lies ahead. Christ has replaced death with immortality. With our souls entrusted to God through faith in our Savior, a glorious future with God is ours.

Our attitude is a result of our perception of reality, which is as much a reflection of time as anything else: what we have encountered in the past, our present situation, and how we see the future unfolding. People of faith can put their past behind them; all has been forgiven. We can also be buoyed in the present by the realization that all things must pass. That leaves the greatest source of optimism for the Christian: the certain future that lies ahead. Christ has replaced death with immortality. With our souls entrusted to God through faith in our Savior, a glorious future with God is ours. - Ed McMinn, Daily Devotions for Die-Hard Fans: Oklahoma State Cowboy

MANAGING GOD’S MONEY Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the firstfruits of all your crops; then your barns will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine. Proverbs 3:9–10 This concept of fiscal responsibility was not lost on me as governor of Alaska. That’s why I used my line-item veto to cut spending by almost 10 percent. I rejected a pay raise. (As mayor, I took a voluntary pay cut.) I invested billions of dollars in state savings. I forward-funded education. See, I knew the resources were not mine to squander and that I had to do right by the people who hired me. Alaska reaped the benefits of that fiscal responsibility: during my tenure, both Standard & Poor’s and Moody’s upgraded Alaska’s credit rating. Our politicians in Washington should be so wise with taxpayer dollars because what’s good for an individual, family, and state is also good for a nation; God’s principles apply across the board. Wasteful spending that robs the American people—like $500,000 to study shrimp on a treadmill, or subsidizing the annual National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Senator Harry Reid’s state of Nevada—doesn’t seem to qualify as the fiscal responsibility this Scripture describes. And funding Planned Parenthood certainly does not honor God—fiscally or morally. SWEET FREEDOM IN Action What’s in your hand is not yours. It’s a loan. God expects you to be obedient and wise with what He’s allowed you to manage. Today, honor Him for His blessings and pray America does the same.

Look at me,” he said hoarsely. Emma brought her eyes to his face and swallowed hard. It was so good to be close to him again, in spite of everything, that she wanted to weep. “What are you doing here?” “I told you,” she said with some effort, gently knotting the bandage to make it stay. “I wanted to warn you about your brother.” He stood and led her around behind a stand of trees and brush, where he took a seat on a birch stump. Then he pulled her downward, so that she was sitting astraddle of his lap. “You took some big chances, Miss Emma. I want to know why.” Emma lowered her eyes. “Because I love you, Mr. Fairfax,” she replied in a soft, broken voice. Steven was silent for such a long time that Emma feared he was going to send her away. When she finally brought herself to meet his gaze, she was amazed to see that he was smiling. “You love me?” “Yes, God help me,” Emma sighed. Her arms went around his neck. “I love you so much, it hurts.” “Even though you’re not sure whether I’m a killer or not?” Emma nodded sadly. He laughed, and it was a joyful, raucous sound. His hands interlocked at the small of Emma’s back, he planted a noisy kiss on her mouth. “If I didn’t know those cowboys up there would tell the story around the campfire for years to come, I’d take you right now.” She would have responded wholeheartedly, but she fancied she could hide the knowledge from Steven. He put his hand under her chin and lifted. “I love you,” he said firmly. Emma had feared never to hear those words from him, and relief made her sigh and rest her forehead against his.

If I've learned one thing, its that we can't live in regret. God doesn't want that for our lives.~ Barrett Thorn

I think it is interesting that God designed people to need other people. We see those cigarette advertisements with the rugged cowboy riding around alone on a horse, and we think that is strength, when really, it is like setting your soul down on a couch and not exercising it. The soul needs to interact with other people to be healthy.

Stones and Shadows" - Modern Country Remix (Verse 1) In this fast-paced world, where rumors fly on screens, Hurtful words can hide, but they're not what they seem. I walk with confidence, with every step, every stride, 'Cause I've got God beside me, and there's no need to hide. (Chorus) Yeah, there'll be those who'll hurt you, with stones they'll try to throw, But I'm standing unshaken, in the light I know. With faith as my compass, I'm never alone, God's standing with me, that's the truth I own. (Verse 2) They'll try to put you down, make you feel so small, But I've got a power, that'll outlast it all. In the rhythm of life, in the beat of my heart, I find strength in His presence, right from the start. (Bridge) So let the gossip roll off, like water on a duck's back, I've got better things to do, than to keep track. For every harsh word, for every low blow, I've got a higher calling, that's where I'll go. (Chorus) Yeah, there'll be those who'll hurt you, with stones they'll try to throw, But I'm standing unshaken, in the light I know. With faith as my compass, I'm never alone, God's standing with me, that's the truth I own. (Outro) So here's to the strong ones, who know where they stand, With God as their partner, they'll walk this land. No fear, no feeling worthless, they're in the zone, 'Cause when God's on your side, you're never alone.

Stones and Shadows" (Verse 1) In this old, dusty town, words fly like arrows, Sharp and swift, they cut through the marrow. But I stand tall, I stand proud, under the sun's golden glow, 'Cause I know God's with me, when the cold winds blow. (Chorus) There will always be someone, to cast a stone, to spin a tale, To try and break your spirit, to watch you fail. But with God by your side, you'll sail through the storm, you'll prevail, Never afraid, never worthless, in His love, you'll never be frail. (Verse 2) Gossip's a wildfire, spreading fast, burning bright, But I've got a river of faith, to fight this fight. I see the truth, I feel His grace, and I hold it close, hold it tight, 'Cause with God beside me, everything's alright. (Bridge) So let them talk, let them whisper, let them throw their shade, I've got a shield of conviction, I'm not afraid. For every stone they hurl, God's love is my barricade, Standing strong, standing fearless, that's how I'm made. (Chorus) There will always be someone, to cast a stone, to spin a tale, To try and break your spirit, to watch you fail. But with God by your side, you'll sail through the storm, you'll prevail, Never afraid, never worthless, in His love, you'll never be frail. (Outro) So here's to the believers, the ones who stand alone, With God as their witness, they've found their home. No stone can hurt them, no words can tear them down, They're rooted in faith, wearing courage like a crown.

In the heart of the land where the rivers flow free, Stands a nation of folks who are brave as can be. With hands on our hearts, under God's watchful eyes, We're singing this song for the home of the brave. We're taking back our country, it's time to stand tall, With faith as our compass, we'll never fall. From the mountains so grand, to the wide-open sea, Under God's grace, where the brave are still free. We've weathered the storms, faced our trials with grace, Now we're turning the page, we're not stuck in one place. With hope in our eyes and prayers in our hands, We're planting new seeds across this great land. So many have fought, and so many have died, To keep the flame of freedom truly alive. In fields far away, under skies so vast, Their courage reminds us, our liberty lasts. Oh, we're not just a memory, we're alive and we're strong, We're the voices united in a powerful song. With God by our side, we'll forge a new way, For the red, white, and blue, we'll proudly display. We're taking back our country, with courage anew, We'll mend every bridge and paint it with truth. From the golden wheat fields to the cities that gleam, Under God's watch, we're chasing the dream. So let's raise up our voices, let the whole world hear, The USA's heart beats strong and sincere. We're taking back our country, making it better each day, For we are the people, under God, the USA.

Heart of the USA” September 1, 2024 at 10:51 AM Verse 1: Let’s raise up our voices, let the whole world hear, The USA’s heart beats strong and sincere. We’re taking back our country, making it better each day, For we are the people, under God, the USA. Chorus: From the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans wide with pride, We’ll stand together, side by side. With freedom in our hearts and justice in our hands, We’ll fight for our land, this is our stand. Verse 2: In the dusty old towns and the cities so bright, We’ll keep on pushing, we’ll keep up the fight. With the stars and stripes waving high in the sky, We’ll never back down, we’ll never say die. Chorus: From the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans wide with pride, We’ll stand together, side by side. With freedom in our hearts and justice in our hands, We’ll fight for our land, this is our stand. Bridge: Through the trials and the troubles, we’ll find our way, With courage and honor, we’ll seize the day. For the land of the free and the home of the brave, We’ll keep on marching, our flag will wave. Chorus: From the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans wide with pride, We’ll stand together, side by side. With freedom in our hearts and justice in our hands, We’ll fight for our land, this is our stand. Outro: So let’s raise up our voices, let the whole world hear, The USA’s heart beats strong and sincere. We’re taking back our country, making it better each day, For we are the people, under God, the USA.

Through God’s Eyes September 8, 2024 at 11:16 AM Verse 1: In the quiet moments, when I kneel to pray, I feel His presence, guiding my way. Through the trials and the tears, I find my peace, Knowing that His love will never cease. Chorus: The eye through which I see God, Is the same eye through which He sees me. In His grace, I find my strength, In His love, I am set free. Verse 2: When the world feels heavy, and the night is long, I hear His whisper, a comforting song. Through the storms and the pain, I hold on tight, For in His light, I find my sight. Chorus: The eye through which I see God, Is the same eye through which He sees me. In His grace, I find my strength, In His love, I am set free. Bridge: He sees my heart, He knows my name, In His eyes, I’m never the same. With every step, He walks with me, In His love, I am free. Chorus: The eye through which I see God, Is the same eye through which He sees me. In His grace, I find my strength, In His love, I am set free. Outro: So I’ll keep my faith, and I’ll hold on, For in His eyes, I belong. Through His love, I am renewed, In His sight, I am true.

America, I’ve Given You All and Now I Have Nothing”: September 13, 2024, at 9:32 AM Verse 1: America, I’ve given you all and now I have nothing, Watched the stars and stripes fade, it’s a bitter sting. Once a land of dreams, now shadows in the night, Where did we lose our way, where’s the guiding light? Chorus: America, I’ve given you all and now I have nothing, You’ve lost your soul, but I’ll keep on fighting. I will do my best, to do my duty, To God and my country, for love and for beauty. Verse 2: From the amber waves of grain to the city streets, Echoes of the past, where freedom used to meet. Voices of the fallen, whisper in the wind, Remind us of the promise, where do we begin? Chorus: America, I’ve given you all and now I have nothing, You’ve lost your soul, but I’ll keep on fighting. I will do my best, to do my duty, To God and my country, for love and for beauty. Bridge: In the heartland, where the rivers flow, In the mountains high, where the eagles go. We’ll find our way back, to the land we knew, With faith and hope, we’ll see it through. Chorus: America, I’ve given you all and now I have nothing, You’ve lost your soul, but I’ll keep on fighting. I will do my best, to do my duty, To God and my country, for love and for beauty. Outro: America, I’ve given you all and now I have nothing, But in my heart, I’ll keep on loving. I will do my best, to do my duty, To God and my country, for love and for beauty.

Child of God, Whole and Free September 12, 2024 at 9:28 AM Verse 1: Stop trying to be less of who you are, You were born with ideals and dreams, You were born with greatness in your heart, God’s light shines through your beams. Chorus: I hope God opens incredible doors, For your life, for your soul, You have always been, and will always be, A child of God, whole and free. Verse 2: Embrace the gifts that you possess, Let your spirit soar and rise, In His love, you are truly blessed, With His grace, you’ll touch the skies. Chorus: I hope God opens incredible doors, For your life, for your soul, You have always been, and will always be, A child of God, whole and free. Bridge: In every trial, in every storm, His love will keep you warm, Stand tall, stand proud, and never fear, For God is always near. Chorus: I hope God opens incredible doors, For your life, for your soul, You have always been, and will always be, A child of God, whole and free.