LIFE IS LIKE A MOUNTAIN RAILROAD

Hello, its Monday again. You know the drill by now. How can it be Monday when it seems it was only Wednesday yesterday. Time flying by, I want to reach out and grab it. Its going to fast. Slow down, how can I smell the roses or even see them when time is on a fast lane to older age and I can't see or smell when you're going that fast.

Yesterday I called my brother. You know "Smiling Bud," I had this song running through my head. I just kept repeating the few words I knew over and over to myself. "Life is like a mountain railroad, with a engineer that's brave. You must make the run successful, from the cradle to the grave." Over and over I sung the words. Till I was driving myself crazy. "Bud," I asked, when he answered the phone. "Whats the words to that old gospel song, Life is like a mountain railroad?" He began to sing, in his clear sweet voice. The words coming back to him quickly. I of course joined in on the chorus. As I cannot sing on key I should have left him to sing it alone. He sounded good and I loved the words.

We then talked about the old gospel music and how the new Christan music they call,"Contemporary Christan music fails in comparison. Now I know there are many who love the new Christan music and I have heard many singers and songs I like. But there is something about the old gospel music that can't be beat.I suppose part of that is brought about by the kind of church we grew up in. Where there was a guitar picker or two. Someone on the piano and maybe even a tambourene. The old as Bud called it, "Brush harbor music." Everyone sang, clapped their hands. The words could be joyous or ones that touched your heart like the,"Old rugged cross." But whatever the words when you heard them you knew you had been to church, or felt like it even if you wasn't in church.

Its sort of like the new country music, there are some good new singers out there and some good songs. My brother Bud does not listen to any of the new country, just the old classic. But you just don't hear that old country where George could bring tears to your eyes and Ernest ,"Walked the floor over you." Oh I know, times changes everything. But I believe not always for the good. Give me the good old gospel, let me listen to Vern Gosden. Sing me "Amazing Grace," or "How great thou are."

Picture this in your mind if you will. It's back in the late thirties. Which was at least before my time, thank goodness. But picture if you will a Saturday night and the family gathered around the old radio. Listening to the Grand Ole Opery." Things were tough in the thirties, "The great depression," you know. But on Saturday night everyone gathered around the radio. No televisions blaring, no kids with their video games or the computer flashing. Just that old wooden radio. Not much money, everyone just doing their best to survive. The announcer brings a young singer up to the mike and he starts singing the song called, "Life is like a mountain railroad." The Dad leans forward in his chair as the crackle of the radio brings the words across the airways. "Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eyes upon the rail." Dad was trying his best to feed his family, to raise them right, show them the way, the right way to go and to trust in God even in bad times. He smiled at his wife as he leans back in his chair. You can hear the mandolins and Dobro in the background. Giving the song that old Bluegrass sound. "Thats a good song Momma," he says. She smiles back, her heart lifted up at the words to the song. You know things haven't changed all that much because when things get tough just, "Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eyes upon the rail. Words to the song is as follows.



LIFE IS LIKE A MOUNTAIN RAILROAD
"by"
ME ABBEY

Life is like a mountain railway
With an engineer that's brave
We must make the run successful
From the cradle to the grave

Heed the curves and watch the tunnels
Never falter, never fail
Keep your hands upon the throttle
And your eye upon the rail

Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore

As you roll across the trestle
Spanning Jordan's swelling tide
You will reach the Union Depot
Into which your train will ride

There you'll meet the superintendent
God the father, God the son
With a happy joyous greeting
Weary pilgrim, welcome home

Blessed Saviour there to guide us
Till we reach that blissful shore
And the angels there to join us
In God's grace forevermore

In God's grace forevermore