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The Weathered Old Barn
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A stranger came by the other day
With an offer that set me to thinking
He wanted to buy the old barn
That sits out by the highway
I told him right off he was crazy
He was a city type
You could tell by his clothes
And by his car and his hands
And the way he talked
He said he was driving by
And saw that beautiful barn
Sitting out in the tall grass
And wanted to know if it was for sale
I told him he had a funny idea of beauty
Sure, it was a handsome building in its day
But then, there's been a lot of winters
Pass with their snow and ice and howling wind
The summer sun's beat down
On that old barn till all the paint's gone
And the wood has turned silver gray
Now the old building leans a good deal
Looking kind of tired
Yet, that fellow called it beautiful
That set me to thinking
I walked out to the field
And just stood there
Gazing at that old barn
The stranger said he planned
To use the lumber to line the walls
Of his den in a new country home
He's building down the road
He said you couldn't get paint like that
Only years of standing in the weather
Bearing the storms and scorching sun
Only that can produce beautiful barn wood
It came to me then
We're a lot like that
You and I
Only it's on the inside
That the beauty grows with us
Sure we turn silver gray too...
And lean a bit more
Than we did when we
Were young and full of sap
But the Good Lord knows what He's doing
And as the years pass
He's busy using the hard wealth of our lives
The dry spells and the stormy seasons
To do a job of beautifying our souls
That nothing else can produce
And to think how often folks
Holler because they want life easy
They took the old barn down today
And hauled it away to
Beautify a rich man's house
And I reckon someday you
And I'll be hauled off to Heaven
To take on whatever chores
The Good Lord has for us
On the Great Sky Ranch
And I suspect
We'll be more beautiful
Then for the seasons
We've been through here...
And just maybe
Even add a bit of beauty
To our Father's house
May there be peace within you today
May you trust God
That you are exactly
Where you are meant to be
I believe that friends are quiet angels
Who lift us to our feet
When our wings have trouble
Remembering how to fly
~ Author Unknown ~
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