Jake, the rancher, went one day to fix a distant fence;

The wind was cold and gusty and the clouds rolled gray and dense.

 

As he pounded the last nail in and gathered tools to go,

The temperature had fallen and the snow began to blow.

 

When he finally reached his pick-up, he felt a heavy heart;

From the sound of that ignition, he knew it wouldn't start.

 

So Jake did what most of us do if we'd have been there;

He humbly bowed his balding head and sent aloft a prayer.

 

As he turned the key for the last time, he softly cursed his luck;

They found him three days later, frozen stiff in that old truck.

 

Now Jake had been around in life and done his share of roamin'

But when he got to Heaven he was shocked ~ it looked just like Wyomin'.

 

Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite was St. Peter;

Now, this line, it ain't needed, but it helps with rhyme and meter.

 

So they set and talked a minute or two, or maybe it was three;

Nobody was keepin' score ~ in Heaven, time is free.

 

"I've always heard, Jake said to Pete, "That God will answer prayer;

But one time that I asked for help, well, He just plain wasn't there.

 

Does God answer prayers for some, and ignore the prayers of others?

That don't seem exactly square ~ I know all men are brothers.

 

Now I ain't tryin' to act smart, it's just the way I feel;

And I was wonderin', could you tell ~ what the heck's the deal?"

 

Peter listened very patiently and when Jake was done,

There were smiles of recognition, and he said, "So, you're the one!

 

That day your truck, it wouldn't start, and you sent your prayer a flying,

You gave us all a real bad time, with hundreds of us trying!

 

A thousand angels rushed to check the status of your file,

But, you know, Jake, we hadn't heard from you in quite a while.

 

And though all prayers are answered, and God ain't got no quota,

He didn't recognize your voice, and started a truck in North Dakota."

 

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