It was Needles, California

          Have you ever been so troubled
          That your life became a drag...
          Have you ever felt like Satan's
          Favorite personal punching bag?
          Have you felt unduly tested?
          Have you felt unjustly tried?
          Till you find you're even questioning
          If the Lord is on your side?

          If you're nodding in agreement
          Then this poem's meant for you,
          It contains a pearl of wisdom
          If you'll only read it through.
          There's a reason for your troubles,
          There's a purpose for each test...
          Though you may not see it now,
          Your Heavenly Father does know best!

          It was Needles, California
          And a hundred in the shade,
          And we'd had nothin' but trouble
          When we shoulda' had it made.

          First the car broke down 'n' quit on us
          And we were forced to sit,
          When the car broke down, I nigh did, too,
          But Guy just wouldn't quit.
          While he rigged-up some new tubing
          That a fella gave to us,
          I just questioned God in silence:
          "Why the problems? Why the fuss?"

          That new tube was not the problem
          So we found ourselves a store,
          And we bought a radiator cap
          'N' then we prayed some more:
          "Thank You, Lord, for givin' us this chance
          To 'Praise You Anyway' ~
          All things pass, and so will this, Lord,
          Trials and tests don't come to stay."

          That new cap was not the answer
          And Guy started to get vexed,
          Desperation and frustration!
          A new water pump was next.
          Well, we stopped at ev'ry waterhole
          In ev'ry one-horse town,
          And Guy hosed the radiator
          In a try to cool it down.

          We were almost into Kansas ~
          Just in front of the state-line,
          When Ol' Smokey pulled us over
          With a friendly little fine.

          When we finally got to Cheney
          My big brother saved the day,
          For he traded us an engine
          That was "gettin' in his way!"

          With one mishap on another
          We were anything but bored,
          Our vacation was a prime time
          Just to learn to Praise the Lord.
          When we die and get to Heaven
          God will make us understand
          That each single trial and mishap
          Was direct from His own hand.

          For this earth is but a dressin' room
          To fit us for above,
          And we have to learn the hard way
          'Bout our Father's endless love.
          God must teach us we can trust Him
          So He gives His children trials,
          And ol' Satan goes bananas
          If we face those tests with smiles!

          So when God sends you a problem
          That's handtailored just for you,
          Don't bemoan your situation,
          Don't be angry, don't be blue.
          Don't "Why-ME-Lord," don't go bonkers,
          Don't go wishin' you were dead ~
          Raise your voice and yell out loudly
          One big "PRAISE THE LORD" instead!

          For each test that's sent is only meant
          To teach you how to praise,
          Mark my words, you'll thank God later
          For His wise, unfathomable ways!


          Beloved, do not be amazed and bewildered
          at the fiery ordeal which is taking place
          to test your quality,
          as though something strange
          were befalling you."

          (I Peter 4:12, The Amplified Bible)

[ by: Connie Hinnen Cook ( -- from Connie Hinnen Cook ]


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