My Big Rock Candy Mountain

There's an old song called "Big Rock Candy Mountain" that was written back in the 1920's and tells in detail of a hobo's dream home. I think as Christians, we too have our on "Big Rock Candy Mountain". We have our ideal family, home, church, car, job, income, health, problems, and life. When we don't get our "mountain" then we lash out at God and others. We feel life isn't fair because it's not easy. I spoke at a youth camp last summer and had a great experience all week long. At the end of the week the camp director was debriefing with the councelors. He made the statement that he thought the past week was the best all summer. The staff disagreed because in their opinion it was a hard week. He told them something I'll never forget. He said, "Good doesn't always equal easy. In fact more times then not, it's the hard times that end up being the best times." I think that's why God doesn't give us our "Big Rock Candy Mountains". Without the "hard and difficult" challenges of life, there would be need to depend on God.

"Big Rock Candy Mountian" 1928

"One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains