Ken Vickers
Precious frog
We have had a terrible drought but I hear it is even worse in Texas. I always heard my wife, a Texan, say everything is bigger in Texas. I guess this even applies to drought. I told my brother, Marq, that I was going to have our Preacher include a prayer for rain at our church and he said, “Please do.”
Of course, this did not stop me from falling on my knees and petitioning the Almighty, also. It worked; at least for our section of the county. We got 12.5 inches over two weeks and I mean we got boggy.
Marq stopped by and said, “Would you please tell that Preacher to stop praying for rain, because I can’t get in the fields to work and my cotton’s about to drown.”
You just can’t satisfy some people.
This reminded me of the story of the old farmer and the weather frog.
It was dry, dry, dry, and every morning the old farmer would sit at the breakfast table hoping for rain. A weather frog outside in a banana plant would give his plaintive cry and the old farmer would say, “Precious frog, precious frog.”
This went on for several mornings and one morning, just after the frog gave his cry and the old farmer said, with tears in his eyes, “Precious frog. Oh my Lord, Precious frog,” it thundered.
Rain began to fall from the heavens like it hadn’t done for years. The old farmer was elated and the weather frog was singing his heart out. This went on all day and night.
The next morning the old farmer sat down at the breakfast table, sipped his coffee as rain poured off the eaves. The frog wailed outside as the rain poured and the old farmer said, “Precious frog, precious frog.”
It rained all the day and night; buckets, torrents, rivers of water.
At the table the next morning as the old farmer sat down, the frog again wailed outside in the banana tree. The old farmer said nothing as it rained again all day and night.
At the breakfast table the next morning the frog again wailed and the old farmer whirled around to the window and snapped, “I wish you’d listen to that dern frog, still hollering!”
Like I said, you just can’t please some people.
I am still praying for rain for those who have not received any and praying for the Christian leaders of our nation. I suggest you do the same because as far as I can see, a Miracle from God is the only way out of the mess we are in.
Marq stopped by and said, “Would you please tell that Preacher to stop praying for rain, because I can’t get in the fields to work and my cotton’s about to drown.”
You just can’t satisfy some people.
This reminded me of the story of the old farmer and the weather frog.
It was dry, dry, dry, and every morning the old farmer would sit at the breakfast table hoping for rain. A weather frog outside in a banana plant would give his plaintive cry and the old farmer would say, “Precious frog, precious frog.”
This went on for several mornings and one morning, just after the frog gave his cry and the old farmer said, with tears in his eyes, “Precious frog. Oh my Lord, Precious frog,” it thundered.
Rain began to fall from the heavens like it hadn’t done for years. The old farmer was elated and the weather frog was singing his heart out. This went on all day and night.
The next morning the old farmer sat down at the breakfast table, sipped his coffee as rain poured off the eaves. The frog wailed outside as the rain poured and the old farmer said, “Precious frog, precious frog.”
It rained all the day and night; buckets, torrents, rivers of water.
At the table the next morning as the old farmer sat down, the frog again wailed outside in the banana tree. The old farmer said nothing as it rained again all day and night.
At the breakfast table the next morning the frog again wailed and the old farmer whirled around to the window and snapped, “I wish you’d listen to that dern frog, still hollering!”
Like I said, you just can’t please some people.
I am still praying for rain for those who have not received any and praying for the Christian leaders of our nation. I suggest you do the same because as far as I can see, a Miracle from God is the only way out of the mess we are in.
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