Home on the Range

I drove through the range this week. And I sang out loud these words, "Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Where seldom is heard a discouraging word. And the skies are not cloudy all day." I have to tell you, these are words of a person where the glass is half full. I saw lots of antelope (and I guess they were playing). I heard discouraging words (Are we there yet? How many more miles?--That'll be another blog telling you about that). It rained and there were clouds. And I wasn't riding a horse nor in a covered wagon, there were McDonald's everywhere, and it took three days, not months to get there.
I have gained a new appreciation of the pioneers who settled this great country. They went West not really knowing what the future held for them. They encountered bad weather, tough times, yet someone was able to sing about positive things. That's an accomplishment. Although I never saw the Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe Cartright in Nevada, I could appreciate the fact that some real person did at one time venture across those mountains and carved out a life, albeit a tough one.
And I complain because there's not enough hot water. Paul said, "I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am." (Peterson's, The Message).
Thank you, Lord for what I have. Forgive me for complaining, moaning, griping, etc. Everybody sing, "Where seldom is heard a discouraging word, and the skies are not cloudy all day...." JW