"Cowboy Christmas Ball"

It’s a good, old cowboy Christmas ball,

All year we’ve looked forward, y’all,

Put out the word, the kinfolks call,

Christmastime is here.

Take down those fiddles, guitars, too,

Tune ‘em up just like they’re new,

All of y’all know what to do,

It’s a happy time of year.

Bring out the food, pour out the nog,

It’s cold enough to kill the hog,

And throw a bone to every dog,

The celebration’s on.

Take down those sleigh bells, hang the lights,

Get ready for the night of nights,

Time to enjoy all the sights,

And sing a Christmas song.

Dance all evenin’, dance some more,

Get out on that old dance floor,

And mistletoe o’er every door,

You might just get a kiss.

Give those presents, make ‘em smile,

We’ll go home after awhile,

But till then show Christmas style,

That none will want to miss.

When it’s over, when we’re through,

When we’ve done all we can do,

We will be thankful, me and you,

We’ll pause and say a prayer.

For Christmas time, for everyone,

When Christ was born, God sent His Son,

Thank the Lord for all He’s done,

For all His love and care.

“Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. So they began to celebrate. Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing.” (Luke 15:23-25, NIV)

This is an excerpt from the story of the prodigal son. The father’s response was to have a big party. What a picture of the heavenly Father’s heart! Does it surprise you that there was food, music, and dancing? And is it surprising that this is what offended the older son? Reminds me of those who criticized Jesus for his habit of eating and drinking with “sinners.” He feasted with them even before they repented and came home, though without any moral or spiritual compromise. What’s the point? The point is that we serve the God of the party. The devil is the party-pooper.

Lord, help us celebrate Your grace, in Jesus’ name.

Art by Jack Sorenson, used by permission. Thanks, Jack, and God bless you.