For those of you who don't know, I live on a farm. When people find out where I live the first thing most of them say is, "Are those your cows?" The answer is, "No, they are my husband's." Farming is his hobby. He loves getting outside and working hard. It's work all year long, but in the winter it's harder. That's when you have to feed the cows. The grass dies back, and hay has to be put out. And that's where our story today begins...
I hate the responsibility of taking care of those huge animals. They are dangerous. They can knock you down and stomp you in a split second. If they aren't familiar with you, you are more likely to get hurt. My husband just walks right through the middle of the herd. They follow him because they know he is taking care of him. They don't feel threatened by him. Strangers, however, cause them to become alert. I am a stranger.
This weekend Connally is gone to a conference. He fed the cows yesterday, and he will feed them when he gets home today. Technically, there isn't anything I really have to do. However. (Don't you just love that word!?)
However, on Thursday night when he went to feed, he was very late coming back inside. In fact, I called to check on him. He had been saving the life of a cow. You see, he has a trailer parked beside the barn that just a week ago was loaded with hay. It wasn't the best hay in the world, but still they surrounded the trailer and ate it right there. My father-in-law used to say about this type of hay, "It's better than a snow ball," meaning that if the weather were to get bad during the winter and you had to feed more than normal, the animals would eat it because they had no other choice. Anyway, for the last week, Connally hasn't put out the good hay because they were satisfied eating the lesser hay off the trailer.
Then, Thursday, in an effort to get to the last of the hay, one of the cows put her front feet up on the ramp to try to get closer. The ramps are for driving the tractor up onto the trailer. They are not solid; they are slatted. You probably already know what happened. Her front feet got stuck. She couldn't get herself out of the mess she was in. Without help from her human, she would remain stuck, or break a leg in the panic of trying to get loose.
Connally had to get the tractor, put belts around her and lift her up so that he could get her feet out of the place where she was stuck. It's hard work for one person. I've had to help before with lifting cows, and it is a dangerous, heavy job. Frustrating even.
Remember that I told you he is out of town today? Don't you know that's when something will most likely happen? I opened the curtains this morning to see the cows around the trailer (not at the good roll of hay he had put out for them,) and one cow had her front legs up on the back of the trailer. Ugh. I did what any good farm wife would do. I prayed for that cow to get down! "Lord, please make her get down and move away from there."
Go ahead and laugh! God didn't. He immediately pricked my heart. "Are you willing to go?" Go where? Out there? Don't you know it's cold this morning, Lord? Don't you know we are under a winter weather advisory and it's supposed to snow? Don't you know those aren't my cows? Me? Go? Out there?
I went. I grabbed a jacket and threw it on over my pj's, slipped on my crocs over my fuzzy socks, and asked Catalina if she wanted to help. Of course, she did. She's always willing. (insert guilt here) Then the blessings started. Number 1: The ground was frozen so we didn't have to slip around in the farm mud. Now, in case you have no frame of reference, farm mud is much different than regular mud. Think about that. Number 2: No wind. Glory! Number 3: We laughed and had fun. We crawled up on that trailer and began to pull the hay apart and throw it on the ground. The bail was too heavy for us to push off, so we just began to peel off the layers and throw it on the ground.
More cows came to eat. They spread out neatly around the trailer and shared. It was calm. And all the while that one cow we had run off from the back of the trailer stood at the back of the trailer staring, waiting for a chance to get back at her spot. Finally, with a little prompting, she moved to the side where the other cows were. She didn't get in the line and begin eating; she just stood in the back, lingering. After a few more minutes she did get into place and begin eating the loose hay we had thrown down. I hope you realize it is easier for them to eat the hay that is thrown down that way.
Catalina and I worked and worked. We unrolled about half of the bail and threw it down for the cows. That, along with the other bail on the ground was really more than enough. Even on a cloudy, dreary, cold day. They will never eat that much, and most likely will just lie down in it later. An abundance of what they need - maybe not what they really want, but what they need.
We came back to the house, brushed off all the hay, washed our hands, and stepped into the wonderful warmth that welcomed us. Then it happened. Looking out the back window, we saw her. That crazy cow had climbed back up onto the back of the trailer!! Dumb animal. For a few minutes we just stood there a stared, sighing heavily, frustrated that we had done all that work only to have her go back to a dangerous place where she would have to work hard for her meal. The conversation went something like this: What's the matter with her? Dummy. Should we go back? No, I'm not. Why would she do that? Doesn't she know there is food right there ready for her to eat? That's just dummy. (That last phrase is one of my favorite Catalina-isms.)
It was then that the light bulb went on and I knew I had to blog this story. Isn't it a perfect example of us Christians? God provides. He gives us exactly what we need. He even sends a friend to help us get to a better place and we are reluctant to move from our perilous position. Finally, we start to taste what he has generously provided, only to return to the place we were in the beginning.
Maybe all this resonated so much to me because I have worked to memorize Psalm 40 all during the month of January. Thinking about that portion of scripture, I think it all hinges on the first line. "I waited patiently for the Lord. He turned to me and heard my cry." It goes on to say, "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire. He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."
Here's how I see it. Those cows didn't wait patiently on their provider. They went ahead to dig into what was right there before them. The ground became muddy and slippery, and they sink into the mud when they stay in one place for a long time. Those cows are like me, and perhaps they are like you. I don't always wait on the Lord. If I do decide to wait, it's usually not a patient process. I trample the place I am in until I start to sink in the filth I have created. I try to climb out of the mud, out of the slimy pit I am in, and put myself in more danger in the process. I want what I want, and I am willing to place myself in a dangerous position to get it. Even when the Lord graciously lays something beautiful out before me, I might sample it just a little before reverting back to my old ways. I wonder how frustated He gets with me?
It's time. Time to move away from that point of impatience that gets me into trouble. Time to start letting the Lord act. He promises to give me a firm place to stand. I don't have to slip and slide my way through life anymore. I have a new song to sing, and I plan to sing it at the top of my voice! The Bible says, "Many will see and fear and put the trust in the Lord." I only pray that as you watch me stand firmly on the rock I have been provided, that you will hear my song of praise and put your trust in the Lord.
My friend, please read Psalm 40. It is such a beautiful promise! Let God lift you out of your pit and give you a new song! And then, dear friend, sing! Sing loudly! Let everyone hear what the Lord has done!
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