The Great Plains -- A Retrospective

Calling Out Your Name

Well the moon moved past Nebraska
And spilled laughter on them cold Dakota Hills
And angels danced on Jacob's stairs
Yeah, they danced on Jacob's stairs
There is this silence in the Badlands
And over Kansas the whole universe was stilled
By the whisper of a prayer
The whisper of a prayer

And the single hawk bursts into flight
And in the east the whole horizon is in flames
I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And I hear the prairies calling out Your name

I can feel the earth tremble
Beneath the rumbling of the buffalo hooves
And the fury in the pheasant's wings
And there's fury in a pheasant's wings
It tells me the Lord is in His temple
And there is still a faith that can make the mountains move
And a love that can make the heavens ring
And I've seen love make heaven ring

Where the sacred rivers meet
Beneath the shadow of the Keeper of the plains
I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And I hear the prairies calling out Your name

From the place where morning gathers
You can look sometimes forever 'til you see
What time may never know
What time may never know
How the Lord takes by its corners this old world
And shakes us forward and shakes us free
To run wild with the hope
To run wild with the hope

The hope that this thirst will not last long
That it will soon drown in the song not sung in vain
And I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And I hear the prairies calling out Your name

And I know this thirst will not last long
That it will soon drown in the song not sung in vain
I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And with the prairies I am calling out Your name

Rich Mullins
Psalms 19:1-6

It has been over twenty-five years since I left the Great Plains. I still carry with me the nasal southwest Kansas twang -- I will probably have it till my dying day. I had no appreciation for my homeland of western Kansas when I was growing up. It was a place to get away from. Definitely un-cosmopolitan, consisting mostly of wheat farms, pasture, cattle rances and prairie. Life revolved around planting and harvesting the wheat crop, getting cattle to market, Friday night football games or basketball games. Small farm towns, like Protection, where I grew up, were a symbiotic partner with the farms and ranches. I was a "town kid" -- my family provided services to the farmers, ranchers and townspeople. As the seventies hit, and the small farm was beginning to decline, I was one of those with stars in his eyes - who wanted to get far, far away from the seemingly dull existence that the high plains offered.

Rich Mullins, on the other hand, was making the journey in reverse. Already a "star" (though that is not what he intended to be and sought not to be), Rich came to the plains of Kansas as someone who could appreciate it's unique beauty for what it was -- and that is partly what he communicated in the song printed above, "Calling Out Your Name".

I came late to appreciate Rich Mullins. And I came late to appreciate my homeland. Better late than not at all.