Be reminded that hope springs eternal for believers

When my husband and I arrived in Amarillo on March 7, most of the trees were brittle and bare with nothing but brownish grey twigs sticking out in every direction. What grass is here in the High Plains was also a brownish grey color with very little life left to behold by way of the visible eye. Dried out tumbleweeds rolled across expressway lanes and bustled into fields, gathering against the ever-present fencerows.

The terrain offered precious little hope for the beginning days of spring that were to follow in a few short days. The Texas long horn cattle seemed to be constantly searching for a few blades of green grass to eat and were very dependent on their owners to put out fresh hay each day.

It is no wonder that the folks who came to west Texas to settle this rugged land had to be made from sturdy stock and able to withstand terrible onslaughts of unpredictable weather, long periods of snow and ice and winds that are unimaginable until you’ve seen and felt them first hand. I had been hearing about the northern winds that blow up out of nowhere, but I now have experienced them gusting up to 30 or 40 mph and coming without any warning at all. On a typical day in early spring in Amarillo in the heart of the High Plains of Texas, it is not uncommon to have snow, sleet, rain, gusting winds and dust storms all within a 24-hour period of time.

The standard joke is “if you don’t like the weather here in the Panhandle, stick around and it will change soon.” A good half of the newscasts each night is dedicated to weather that might change or remain the same.

We’ve been here at our home in the Panhandle for a little over four weeks this visit, and lo and behold, things have changed drastically. We were down at the city administration buildings one day last week and I took pictures of beautiful pink crab apple blossoms that seemed to light up the parks and streets. Tulips and pansies were in competition for color and hints of spring in many of the manicured flowerbeds which surrounded the city offices. Those dry, brittle trees now had little green buds and tiny leaves shooting out all over reminding onlookers that God is still in His heaven and that He is still in control. The seasons change at His instruction and the beauty that we love and admire are gifts from His hand.

These reminders of new life, rebirth and springtime were welcome intruders for us and for several families we’ve spent time with during our visit. During those bleak days between winter and spring, one friend of ours was notified that his mom was seriously ill and hospitalized with little hope of recovery. Dutch left Amarillo and drove to Plainview to be with his beloved mother. The doctors said there was little hope and transferred her to a hospice service on Friday. On Saturday morning, we received word that she had died from her many different medical conditions. The three children, now grown, started to plan her funeral service and burial.

On Sunday morning, a mutual friend, came over to our house early in the day and said, “I’m so sorry to bring this news, but Dutch’s family has had another death. His 57-year-old sister, also named Brenda, had been the chief caregiver for the 87-year-old mother.

Dutch and his sister, Patty, were on their way to her home to complete the funeral arrangements when the phone rang and the brother in law said in a broken voice, “Brenda is dead. “When I went in to wake her this morning, I found her dead in our bed.”

No one could believe the news at first. It took a while to settle in and then the reality was just terrible. Brenda left three children and several grandchildren. What was left of the family now had two funerals and burials to plan for within hours of each other. Ted and I drove to Vernon, Texas and attended the memorial service with two flower-draped caskets at the front of the funeral home.

Two days later, our phone again rang with sad news. One of Ted’s former students had died suddenly of a heart condition. His 14-year-old son had found him dead in his recliner in Venus, just outside of Fort Worth. Jon had been an outstanding student at Tascosa High School, active in several organizations and one of Ted’s two state presidents in the VICA organization (now called SkillsUSA). He had been a ranking employee in the Texas Bankers Association and presently served as the budget officer for the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals. Death came so suddenly to the promising 45-year-old father.

We drove to Plainview for this service and spent time with the family and friends who were still in a state of shock over their loss. Three funerals in just a few short days brought home again the truth that life is not promised to any of us. Jon was 45, Brenda was 57 and Dutch’s mom was 87, but not one family member was ready to give them up to the grave.

As we drove home from the memorial service in Vernon, we began to notice the first signs of spring. Buds were on trees and bushes and there was some green in the grasses and fields that we passed. We were reminded once again that God is in control and that He determines everything that happens to us. Hope springs eternal for those who put their trust in the Lord. He is able to keep them in every situation and in every sorrow and to bring a new day of life everlasting. Our friends will see their loved one again if they put their trust in Christ. He has gone to prepare a place for us, according to John 14, and we are told in Scripture that it will be a beautiful place beyond our human imagination.


“My hope is as an anchor, both sure and steadfast…” (Hebrews 6:19)

Brenda Cannon Henley can be reached at (409) 781-8788 or at brendacannonhenley@yahoo.com.

View from the seat of a Texas saddle

The trail dust was heavy filling his eyes, ears,
and throat until it was grainy and raw.
Swallowing and sucking at the little bit of saliva
had now become a hard earned pleasure.
Old Dan was tired from the old cowboy pushing him to cover
a few more miles before calling it a day.
The sun was sinking in the cloud filled blue gray sky,
but still way Texas hot!
The creaking of the leather saddle
under his new found heavy weight,
Made him realize that he had been around
longer than the creek bank dirt.
The aches and pains in his neck
and back reminded him of the bad spills,
the time the horse he was breaking
got away from him and punched a big hoof
in the middle of his back.
But, hell, he could still rope and ride
with the best of the young ones.
And, he had the spread to think of...
Good horses, sturdy cattle, clean house,
safe place to sleep, tasty food, clear stream,
old friends, new acquaintances, and his woman!
She'd be waiting on the porch to hear
the hoof beats coming through the gate!
Announcing with each clippity-clop, "I'm home again!"
Somehow, she always knew it was him
without ever looking out the sparkling kitchen window.
She could feel it in her heart first,
and then in her mind, and then in all those
other places his coming home touched.
He chuckled as he envisioned the slow smile spreading
across her face in welcome
in that special way reserved only for him.
The sparkle in her eye let him know
that more than a good meal and a clean bed
awaited his return.
She had been missing him bad...
...that was evident from the way she would
throw her arms around him in that long bear hug
and then walk toward the house
with her arm linked securely in his arm.
The cool inviting stream beckoned to him
to pull up here in the little clearing
for the campfire meal and a little shut eye
before going the final day tomorrow.
With wild abandon, he stripped off his dirty
trail encrusted clothes and walked into the water.
Age, dirt, tiredness, bad decisions, bad company, and bad
memories quickly washed away in the cool, clear water.
The water was deep enough for him to swim in
and that he did while his clothes dried on a rock.
All he saw now was the sinking orange ball
that had hours ago been the hot sun
beaing down on him and Old Dan.
Sun and wind dried, he put on his almost dry clothes
and set about to make his fire for the night.
Brewed some strong black coffee
and searched for the last of his provisions to eat.
As the fire was dying down, and with a full stomach,
he glanced back up at the sky which had now made its way to a pale shade of navy.
He saw the first silver twinkling of night stars
as they nestled in the Heavens.
Unrolled his blanket with years of experience on his side, banked the fire, surveyed the area one last time,
and made sure Old Dan was safe for the night.
Eased his big old tired frame down
to the soft earth and did not remember
pulling the cover around him.
Seemed to him like only minutes,
but hours passed while his tired body rested.
First stirring of light and dawn hit him full in the face.
The old cowboy fixed more coffee and something to eat,
scattered the ashes, and fed and watered Old Dan,
as they had their usual morning conversation.
"Going home, today, Dan, finished our business,
closed the deal, and made some pocket change."
Rode hard, but not hard enough to wear out Old Dan,
made good time, and knew his land was just over
the next little rise.
As the spread came into view,
he saw land that his Grandfather had fought for and won,
land that his own Dad had turned around
and made profitable.
More land had been bought, new cattle brought in,
horses broken and added to the corrals, railroads
were built, Texas oil was found, and money was made.
As the old cowboy rode along his own fence row,
he realized again how very blessed
he’d been to choose right the first time,
to live off of and on the land, his land,
to find simple abundance in tending his animals,
planting his crops, visiting with his neighbors,
sitting on his own front porch,
fishing in his stream, and feeling that giant
rush of pure contentment.
"Must be gettng older," he thought, as he
rode Old Dan the last few miles of the way.
He smiled as he remembered the women who'd loved him,
and the only one he'd chosen.
He thought about friends he'd protected,
and those who had stuck by him.
He considered deeds that he'd done
that made things worse,
and those that he'd done that had made things better.
All in all, he finally decided,
from his seat in the saddle,
that he had better than broke even
in this thing called life!
And, he knew in his heart that there was no other
way of life for him other than cowboying,
He would do it till he died!




Brenda Cannon Henley
May 30, 2002
for Dave Clemens, one of the last true old Texas cowboys
brendacannonhenley@yahoo.com
(409)781-8788

Let's learn to live today...while we can

What are we waiting for? Let’s learn to live life today to the fullest!

The older I become, the more I’ve come to realize this sad fact. People, including good Christian people, are always waiting for one other thing to happen in their lives or for something to change before they begin to live the good life they’ve been planning on living for years. Life is always in the future — and not in the present.

Men and women are both guilty. Neither gender is exempt from falling into this trap. Young men want to get their education and establish themselves in a profitable career before they settle down into rearing children, and that’s good and commendable, but sometimes circumstances don’t work out that way. Young women want to get that next new home or a better job or have some beauty procedure done before they get on with life. Or, they want to meet the perfect man who will bring them the happiness they desire and deserve.

Perhaps God’s timing is different and should be considered seriously.

I recently talked with a young lady whose heart and soul is entrenched in obtaining a new home and exquisite décor, basically to keep up with the Joneses. In this case, it happened to be the women’s sister-in-law and her husband she wanted and needed to keep up with, or so she thought. She had two precious children, but the little blonde boy and dark-eyed little girl seemed almost secondary in her thinking. She was willing to sacrifice time, money and energy to get what she wanted. Everything had to be a name brand from a reputable store. Nothing but the best was truly her motto for life. Shopping and having things encompassed her thought patterns and her everyday conversations.

It was obvious to even a casual observer that her children needed her and she didn’t even know it — or so it seemed. Both were hungry for personal attention and needed loving care. Their clothing was not what it could have been and meals were quick, throw-togethers without much thought. Farming the kids out for someone else to keep apparently was the pattern in this home and the young mother thought nothing of asking a friend or neighbor to keep either or both for the day while she shopped and spent.

When the father arrived home for the night, supper was a hurried and loud affair with no one really hearing what the other person was saying. Getting the kids bathed and into bed was a struggle that involved screaming and shouting and threats all around. There was little love demonstrated and certainly no time given for home training or for a quiet bedtime story or even conversation about the day’s events. The memories this family is building will not be Kodak moments in the future unless things are changed immediately.

Older folks are guilty, too. We believe we must wait until we obtain that perfect job. We are on our professional career path and we work like dogs to get where we want to go often trampling on those around us as we climb that corporate ladder. Our bodies and our minds are literally worn out by the time we get home to share what should be the most important time with family and dear friends. We burn out, wear out, bum out or are displaced because we can no longer keep up, and yet, we are still waiting to start living.

Many of us say, either consciously or subconsciously, “when we retire, we’ll begin living,” but I wonder if we haven’t been practicing living all those years, will we really know how to begin living when we are not longer accountable to the time clock or the boss? Or, by then, will we be so entrenched in the hurry up and wait cycle that we cannot break out of it?

Christian workers are not exempt either. I’ve seen so many “professional” Christians, people who serve on church staffs and in our Christian education circles, who are simply working so hard to get ahead or to be successful that they’ve actually forgotten why they are there in the first place. They are so deeply ingrained in doing the Lord’s work that they don’t really accomplish much. And, motives — who has time for them? How long has it been since we’ve really taken the necessary time to examine our motives? Why do we do what we do? The answers might just shock us into reality again.

God has promised His people an abundant life. He wants us to enjoy the beauty He has created. He planned for us to enjoy living our lives. We are becoming our own worst enemy. When did you and your family enjoy a loud laugh last? When did you and your children enjoy a new discovery together? What game did you engage in last with your family? When did you travel together for a really fun trip, not business, not because of sickness or not necessarily to see relatives? What do you have planned, as a parent, for spring or summer fun for the entire family? Will you manage to do anything together?

Gratitude for His bounty and His wonderful gifts is a good starting point to the beginning of truly enjoying our time on earth. Enjoying natural wonders He has created is great for families and close friends. Our families and our children and our friends need us now. They may not be here to need us tomorrow. Or, we may not be here to be needed. These are grim facts, but oh, so true. One friend of mine recently said she had attended 11 funerals of good friends since Jan. 1 of this year. How sad.

A lifetime is actually pretty short when you think about it. The Bible mentions three score and ten years — 70 years, and many don’t make it that far because of health issues, worry or accidents in the fast lane in which we choose to live our lives. We bury folks every day who never started living the lives they planned to live. Many die before they ever leave the starting gate. And they certainly don’t make it around the track of a long life.

Somehow, while folks were waiting to begin living, life got away from them. One writer recently said, “Life is what happens to us while we are living every day.” I challenge every reader of The Examiner today to start living the life you planned to live beginning today as you read this column. If we don’t live today and tomorrow, when will we live?

Surely, we are intelligent enough beings to know that time stands still for no one. This fact was called to my own personal attention a few days ago in a very real and dramatic way. I have buried way too many family members and friends that I’m not certain ever learned to live the way they planned. We must not dream our lives away — we must live them away very carefully and courageously.

“Remember how short my time is…” (Psalm 89:47)

“Redeeming (or cherishing) the time…” (Ephesians 5:16)

Brenda Cannon Henley can be reached at (409) 781-8788 or at brendacannonhenley@yahoo.com.