Cowboy Counsel

Over the years I have both counseled people and received counsel from many. It might be surprising that some of those counseling sessions took place over the years in pastures, over barbed wire fences, in barns, riding in farm trucks in pastures, and on country back porches.

Today I went to visit a man to get some parenting counsel. When I showed up at his house he was on horseback. There he sat. Plain white t-shirt. Justin boot cap. Wrangler jeans. Boots with spurs. He is not the urban cowboy. He is the real deal. We started our conversation in the barn. He taking the bridle off his horse and me leaning on the gate. Not exactly the place most counseling sessions start but we both felt at home.

Soon we made our way to his back porch. We sat down under his back porch ceiling fans. I asked many questions. He had some advice. I opened my soul sharing my failures in many areas. He had strong counsel to share, words of comfort and encouragement. Before I knew it, I looked down at my watch and noticed three hours had already passed.

This cowboy counselor spoke in simple terms. Often he used agricultural analogies. He related training children to training horses. Speaking as a man to another man. He did not shy away from speaking the hard truth. Neither did he condemn me where I confessed failure. Though we never express our love for one another I know this man loves me. He does not say it. He shows it in tangible ways.

Those three hours flew by. I hung on his every word. In the end we walked back to the barn where he shoveled horse manure still offering words of counsel. I would not trade those few hours today for any plush office setting with a professional licensed counselor.

In past churches I have served I dressed in slacks, a pressed dress shirt, and dress shoes. Dressing professionally meant and still means a great deal to me. Today I wore my normal office attire at Faith Community Church; jeans, long sleeve t-shirt, and boots. It fit as we walked through the barn and around the farm. Over these past few years serving this church, I spent my fare share of time in hayfields, in barns, around livestock more than in Starbucks or Barns and Noble.

This cowboy counselor is different than me. He at home on the farm, on horseback, and fixing things. I am at home in a bookstore or library. He turns wrenches working on farm vehicles to unwind while do so reading a good book. God has given us a connection. He has done things for me and my family that have humbled me.

I have been blessed to serve in rural churches my whole ministry. Small towns in out of the way places. The pace of life often slower. In small towns everybody knows everybody. I am at home talking with country people. I enjoy eating at cafes more than five star restaurants. While I still dress up for church on Sunday I am equally at home in jeans and boots. Country people seldom are pretentious people. Country people can smell a counterfeit. They can easily see through a canned professional pastor.

So I went to this cowboy counselor needing some real parenting advice. He gave me eyes to see things from a different perspective. He brought a fresh and much needed perspective. I could act like I always have my act together but this guy is way too smart for that. He would see right through my smoke screen.

I am thankful for a day on his back porch. I left his home feeling like a better father and a better pastor.  Even pastors need counseling from time to time . Jesus. thank you for cowboy counselors.