When Jess Franks was named as a clown for the National Finals Rodeo, he thought he had reached the apex of rodeo success.
When Jess Franks was named as a clown for the
National Finals Rodeo, he thought he had reached the apex of rodeo
success.
Thousands of fans had watched him perform across the
nation, and one of his acts became so popular that it was recognized in
the National Rodeo Hall of Fame.
However, Franks says he eventually discovered that
professional achievements did not translate into lasting contentment.
After more than four decades of rodeo success, Franks says he found
true contentment for the first time by committing his life to Jesus
Christ.
Today, Franks is a member at First Baptist Church of
Bloomfield, N.M. But at the beginning of his rodeo career, church was
the last place Franks expected to find himself. “I was raised on a
ranch, and I rodeoed for a living all my life,” he says. “So, my
lifestyle was drinking, dancing, fighting, carousing, just whatever I
wanted to do. I had a conscience, and it bothered me but not to the
extent that it slowed me down. …
“There were no holds barred for me – nothing. I
tried to be nice to people, and I tried to get along with people and
everything. But I was just kind of my own man.”
Franks began participating in rodeos at age 11. By
his 15th birthday, he had learned how to work with bulls as a rodeo
clown, and he set a goal for himself of someday participating in the
National Finals Rodeo.
“I achieved all the goals that I could achieve,” he
says. “At the age of 39, I got to represent New Mexico at the National
Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas as a clown. That was one of the goals I’d set
when I was just a kid.”
However, Franks says he found that participating in the finals did not bring him anticipated satisfaction.
“I worked hard, worked harder than anything I’d ever
done to get there,” he recounts. “A lot of miles, a lot of rodeos, a
lot of tears and blood and sweat. And I finally made it. And when I got
done, there were no goals left. I was there, and it didn’t mean as much
as I thought it would mean. I got presented the gold buckle and felt
very empty.”
The emptiness increased when Franks experienced a
divorce and was left without a place to live, he says. Prompted to
begin a search for contentment in life, he started visiting churches in
2001.
“I didn’t know what to do, so I started going to
church,” Franks says. “I went to a bunch of churches. And I had heard
really good things about the First Baptist Church in Bloomfield.”
Franks attended services one Sunday.
After his initial visit, he continued to attend the
church because he enjoyed pastor Joe Bunce’s preaching and thought that
church might help him to find contentment. Indeed, after attending the
church for nearly a year, Franks became convicted of his sin and his
need for Jesus.
On Sept. 14, 2003, he committed his life to Christ.
“One Sunday, I was sitting there and felt a
tremendous amount of emotion and somebody was talking to me,” Franks
says. “And I knew who it was, and I thought, ‘Now is the time. …’ So,
I went up there and professed my faith in Christ and was born again and
got baptized. … The feeling I had when I was saved was like a million
pounds was taken off me.”
Within days, word spread on the pro rodeo circuit of
Franks’ salvation. Friends began to inquire about his relationship with
Jesus, and Franks learned that being a Christian witness can sometimes
be a challenge.
“It takes a different kind of man to sit and admit
(his faith) to all his peers who like to drink and carouse,” Franks
says. “It’s tough being raised like we were and being a Christian man
and professing your faith in Christ. They don’t laugh at you, but they
do treat you like you’re a different man. …
“You’ve got to remind yourself, ‘Hey, these people
are watching you, and if you are going to talk the talk, you’ve got to
act like … a Christian man.’”
Franks says the self-centered pattern of life began
to change once he allowed God to help control his actions.
“Turning things over to God is probably the hardest
thing for me to do because I’ve done it all by myself for all these
years,” he notes. “It had always been on my back. … That’s probably
one of the hardest things in the world to do, to turn it all over to
Christ.”
Despite the difficulties of being a new Christian, Franks says the Lord
has transformed his life and the life of his wife Geri, who had become
a Christian in 2002.
“It’s starting to change our home life,” he says.
“My stepdaughters are starting to pay attention to the way we are.
People are starting not to cuss in front of me as much as they used to.
… I keep a Bible on my desk, and it really changes a lot of people’s
attitudes when they come in there. … I’ve had a lot of people call me
and ask me, ‘What do you think about this?’ And they’re starting to ask
me my advice as a Christian man.”
Reflecting on his life amid rodeo’s rough-and-tumble
competitors, Franks says, “The real men are the men who profess faith
in Christ and can walk the walk and talk the talk and bring other
people to Christ.
“And they have that serenity about them. They have
the calmness. They have the coolness. We have something the rest of the
world doesn’t.” (BP)