The Gunfight

The sun was rising in the east behind some hitching posts - and weathered boards, on buildings old, had nothing left to boast. But I wore fancy cowboy duds, I was a handsome sight. A crowd of people gathered 'round to watch this old gun fight. The street was dead and empty except for sin and I. I somehow ended up out here. I'm really not sure why. A bullet? Very perilous if we've no self-control - and sin is much more dangerous, because it kills the soul. Now noon met with humidity. The sun was dry and hot. Some beads of sweat rolled down my face - my stomach, in a knot. But no, I wasn't nervous - though duel had begun. I counted out ten paces - then turned and drew my gun. But sin is faster, furious - much quicker than the eye. Oh please! Dear Lord and Saviour - I do not want to die! And then... in just an instant, I dropped down to my knees. I fell as peace passed over me and felt the gentle breeze. But something stood in front of me. Its shadow crossed my face. I then saw Jesus on that cross. He took my very place. Ashamed, I dropped my pistol. My pride was killed that day - as I pulled off my fancy boots and flung my hat away. Now humbled on the dusty street with crowded eyes on me - my every pride had vanished as I learned humility. In faithfulness, I stood again, though I was at a loss... Oh, how could Jesus love me so from that old rugged cross? The sun was setting in the west behind some hitching posts. And weathered boards, on buildings old, had nothing left to boast. ©2012 louis gander / www.ganderpoems.org