¶ Having recently traveled through that most magnificent display of the year, the Lord’s Great Grand Finale, which, symbolically speaking, signals the final stages of Life, I found myself riding beneath the tattered remnants of what was once the indescribable, ever-changing, artistry of the Lord, His Great Grant Finale, The Fall Of the Year. Each masterpiece above me, of which there were myriads, even though they faithfully tried to cling to the Branch, did, one by one, fall from their grandiloquent heights. Some drifted down with all the grace of a butterfly to rest gently upon the earth, while some, in wild array did show their stuff in the wild and whirling winds of Autumn. Others, their blades browned by the sun, were driven to that bleak and barren ground of humility below by the stiff and rakish winds of winter, still, all of them found their appointed place in the fields and forests of the wilderness through which I ride this day. Out of the fiery brilliance of that most majestic season into which the Joy of Spring and the Abundance of Summer are gathered, on that Great White Steed that was, as a Gift, given to me forty years ago, the day I became Born Again of the Spirit, do I lite out into the Winter of my Years for that City not made by man.

¶ Up ahead, it looks as though the fiery brilliance of God’s Great Grand Finale is giving way to the harbingers of Old Man Winter. As the ominous weight of the End of Days does, day by day, descend upon the earth, and the golden rays of the Autumn sun are splintered into nothing more than razor-like slivers by the cold, grey steel of winter, these aging eyes still labor to gaze into that long and trying neck-a-the-woods ahead; the Winter of My Life. Why, I can hear the earth as never before, moaning, groaning, and weeping for His Return. Having come through the Joy of Spring, the Abundance of Summer, and the Fiery Fall of My Years, I must now traverse the Last Leg of My Journey wherein lie the greatest tests and trials of all, for it is there that the stiff, cruel, and heartless Winds of Winter along with Satan’s Icy Leviathans, Hateful Harriers, Bullys, and Bushwhackers must be overcome by the Warm Wisdom of God. Not only are the heavens lowering, and the days growing darker by the minute, but the neck-a-the-woods through which I must now pass seems to have become the rendezvous of every Icy Leviathan, Hateful Harrier, Bully, and Bushwhacker on the planet. Shadowy figures they are, gaunt, lean, and fiercely bent; Icy hearted creatures you dare not trust and with whom you do not parley.

Oh, that I might come across, in that vast wilderness that lies out there before me, a Lodging Place for wayfaring men, such as myself, that I might get out from amongst these harriers and bushwhackers, for they are a treacherous bunch. (Jeremiah 9:2, ¹wcv&²)

….However, tomorrow is THANKSGIVING DAY, and I will, whether in the safety of a Lodge or in the perils of the wilderness, come hell and high water or a bright Son-Lit-Day, LIFT UP MY HANDS and PRAISE YOU, and WORSHIP YOU, and THANK YOU, O LORD, for you have been so good to me.

1 Oh, Lord, how amiable and pleasant is Your House.   


2 My soul does long and my heart does yearn for You, my LORD, even my flesh cries out for You! 


3 Yes, in Whose House even the sparrow has found a place of rest, and the swallow a nest for herself, where even they may lay their young upon the alter of Your Great Love, O LORD of hosts, my King and my God.


5 Blessed are the men whose strength is in You. Whose hearts are set upon the Road to the City of their God, that City not made by the hands of man


6 Blessed are those who, when passing through the Valley of Weeping make it a place of fresh water springs for the thirsty, causing the Oak and the Mulberry Trees to spring up.


7 Yes, we who go from Strength to Strength (on this long journey home) will finally gaze upon Your Face and enjoy You forever in the City of Our God, that City not made by man.


10 For better is one day in Your house than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a Keeper of Your Door than to dwell in any earthly palace of the wicked.  (Psalm 84:2,3,5,6,7,10, ¹wcv & ²)



¶ On this long journey Home I have witnessed much. I have seen men spend their whole lives Beating a Dead Horse! I have seen men spend their entire lives chasing tumbleweeds through a land so dry and barren that they themselves became one! I have seen men spend their entire lives pursuing mirages until they die of thirst. I have seen men gain the whole world and lose their souls all because they refused to “Look Up”!  This very “hour”, I see multitudes who want Jesus Christ as their Savior but refuse His “Lordship”.  You see, if JESUS CHRIST is truly our “LORD”, every day is THANKSGIVING DAY!


¶ And so, as for me and mine, “come hell or high water”, we’re ridin’ on out of this “present, evil, world”! We’re headed for that City not made by man, where we will “Dance the Dance of All Dances” on streets of gold in the City of our God, that City not made by man!

HANDS ON THE WHEEL  by Will Callery / Waylonson Pub. Co. ©1975 BMI


¹wcv / My Emphasis, My Version (always taken from the Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, & Arabic translations, definitions, and connotations)

² / My Insert(s)

AIN’T IT SO is published by William & Cynthia Pub. Co. ©2023 {All Rights Reserved}

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