The Prayer

A visiting Pastor was attending a men’s breakfast in Farm County.  He
asked one of the impressive older farmers in attendance to say grace
that morning.  After all were seated, the older farmer began——

“Lord, I  don’t care for buttermilk.

The Pastor opened one eye and wondered to himself where this was

Then the farmer loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.”

Now the Pastor was worried.  However without missing a beat, the
farmer prayed on, “And Lord, you know I don’t care much for raw white flour.”

Just as the Pastor was ready to stand and stop everything, the farmer

“But Lord, when you mix ‘em all together and bake ‘em up,
I do love fresh biscuits.  So Lord, when things come up we don’t like, when
life  gets hard, when we just don’t understand what you are sayin’ to us, we
just  need to relax and wait ‘till  You are done mixin’, and probably it
will be  somethin’ even better than biscuits.



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