Pasture Laughter

I am thankful to God for the gift of unexpected reasons to laugh. Today I was sitting on the ground, waiting on the water tank to fill up for the cows. My border collie Zeta was with me, and I started teasing her and playing with her, making playful growling sounds and blowing on her, which makes her want to jump at me and slurp me on the face, neck, wherever she can get at. She started making ...me laugh as we were tousling on the ground beside the water tank. Then I looked over at the cows that were all lined up around the tank on the other side of the fence. They just made me laugh more. Cajun, especially. She's this little cow who is very laid-back, almost always waits till the last to come in the milking parlor, just rarely ruffled or excited by much. But the look on her face as she was looking at me and Zeta was too funny. Her eyes were wide as she stared at us, as if to say something like, "WHAT is going on? I have never seen this side of you, and it does not seem natural to me!" I so wish I had taken my camera with me today!

The Simplicity of Humility

Tonight on the way home from the Wabash Valley International House of Prayer some lines from a song on the radio reminded me of a brief conversation I had with my cows this afternoon (it was one-sided as far as I could tell). This week has been kind of a whirlwind because of two different situations where friends were going through some really tough situations relationally. The magnitude of the problems can seem overwhelming, to the point where you almost just don't know where to start to find the solution. I believe with all my heart that no problem is too big for God to set straight, no wounded heart too far gone for Him to mend. But sometimes we stand in the way and delay His healing.

So when I went out to roll up the fencing for the cows the final time this afternoon, I walked through the herd, enjoying their contentment. Aggie and Ashlyn happened to be nearby, curiously sniffing me, and I asked them, "Why do we avoid a life of simplicity? I bet you guys are glad to be cows. You've got it pretty good, really." We humans make life so difficult, don't we?

This week a scripture verse has come to my mind several times, but I hadn't had a chance to look up where it was in the Bible. The words in my heart were the Lord's, "For I have wounded that I may heal." Tonight I was late arriving in the prayer room, so I kind of jumped into the middle of the worship set and the scripture they were singing. Soon the worship leader sang some words that were very close to the words that had been on my heart. The scripture listed on the screen was Hosea 6:3. I looked it up and found I had already highlighted it. Verses 1-3 read as follows:
"Come, let us return to the LORD.
For He has torn us, but He will heal us;
He has wounded us, but He will bandage us.
He will revive us after two days;
He will raise us up on the third day
That we may live before Him.
So let us know, let us press on to know the LORD.
His going forth is as certain as the dawn;
And He will come to us like the rain,
Like the spring rain watering the earth."

These words spoken through the prophet Hosea to Israel and Judah centuries ago are still very spiritually relevant to us today. Yep, the Lord is speaking!

Well, on the way home "All of Creation" by Mercy Me was playing. The chorus says,
"All of creation, sing with me now
lift up your voice and lay your burden down
All of creation, sing with me now
fill up the heaven, let His glory resound"

Lift up your voice and lay your burden down. What's your burden? Lay it down. God is offering to take it for you. He carries my cows' burdens, and they live pretty carefree lives, it appears to me. Most of creation lets Him carry the burden, and creation is pretty good at singing His praises, too. Why can't we? Why do we make life so difficult? Why is loving each other so difficult? Jesus showed us how. "Greater love has no man than he who lays down his life for another." Because Israel and Judah would not humble themselves, because they chased after other gods, because they did not do justly and love mercy, God's hand was forced. Rather than lose them, He tore them and wounded them, that He could heal them. I think this means that He couldn't heal them until they were in the place of humility.

Whatever it is you are facing in your life, keep your heart humble, for if you "humble yourself...He will lift you up." God wants to heal you and make you whole. Spirit, soul, and body. And out of your wholeness, you will be able to love others as He loves you. The Gospel really is simple. Just ask the cows.

A Lesson

I had coffee (well, she had coffee, I had a smoothie) with a friend yesterday and was sharing something the Lord had told me this summer. Her response was something like, "You need to write this down and share its prophetic message." It was already written in my journal. Now I'm sharing it.

This summer I was feeling frustrated with a friend. Angry even. Part of the reason why I felt that way was because this person wanted more for some areas of their life than they currently experienced. I could see the struggles this fellow believer faced, and could also see (not anything specific exactly, just in general) this sort of higher plane God was calling my friend up to. I could see there were things that would need to be surrendered...some idols cast down...in order to realize this onward and upward movement. And it frustrated me as I watched my friend continue in the same choices and struggles and not just accept the gift that was right in front of them.

Then the Lord spoke to my heart. Gently, but bringing great conviction. "Kate, if you think you can see more than your friend can see, how much more do you think I can see than you? How much more for you (and each of my children) do you think I want than you want for your friend? How many times have you been too blind or stubborn to lay something down that stood in the way of you coming up to Me? I do not get frustrated with you. I do not get angry with you. I am not impatient. I wait for you in love, ready for your moment of surrender. Because I do that for you, you also can do that for your friend."

Gulp.

There is nobody better than God at loving people where they are. But He at work within us can make us like Him. Keep going, Lord, you're making progress with me!

Do You Love Me?

I was reading John 21:15-17 the other day in the Bible. This is where Jesus appears to seven of his disciples who had returned to their fishing boat after Jesus' resurrection. The disciples had fished all night to no avail, and towards morning Jesus pulls out a familiar card and tells them to throw their net on the other side of the boat. The result was 153 large fish and an intact net. When John tells Peter it's the Lord, Peter jumps in the water, unable to wait for the boat to get the short distance to shore. Jesus then invites them all to breakfast, which he has started cooking, although he suggests they bring some of their own fish to add to the fire.

After breakfast came reflection time. Whether Peter wanted it or not. Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him. Peter says yes, and each time Jesus responds with something involving sheep and lambs. In verse 17, we are told that Peter was grieved because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" At first glance, this conversation might seem like a grilling by Jesus to get a point across. Or I have heard also that Jesus asks him this three times because Peter denied him three times. But there might be more to this than I used to think.

The first time I read a version of the Bible that had footnotes on the meaning of these words for love, I learned that the first two times Jesus used agapeo, which means to love unselfishly to the point that you would be willing to sacrifice. The third time he uses phileo, which means to be a friend or to have the same interests with another person.

To us who read it in English, it looks like Jesus asks the same question three times. But in Greek he asks one question twice and a different question the third time. Peter wouldn't have been grieved because Jesus asked him the same question a third time. He was grieved because the third time, Jesus asked him, "Simon, son of John, do you phileo me?" "Are you my friend? Do you like to do the things I do? Do you like me? Does your heart get mine?"

Agape love is no small thing. Selflessness is counter-cultural perhaps now more than ever. It's not the natural response of fallen, broken people. Sacrificial love truly does require a power higher than our own at work within us. And yet, I wonder, is it possible to agapeo out of duty alone? Can we tend lambs and shepherd sheep simply because we feel obligated or guilty if we don't? In my own experience that is a resounding yes. Then again, maybe that's not really agape love either. Maybe it's just a superficial form of it. Not that good things won't come of that, but with God, it's always a matter of our hearts first.

So what about phileo? It seems like that is possibly even more a reflection of my heart's desires. When two hearts connect, joy results. We are relational beings, and experiencing that deeper kind of connection with another is an important component of true friendship. Jesus gave Peter cause to reflect on their connection. On all they had been through together since His ministry became public. On the common purpose they shared. Maybe Jesus wanted to show Peter that even if he couldn't see Him present physically, what they had in common would preserve their bond.

When Jesus came to the disciples this time, he found them fishing in the boat. When Jesus first met and called them, they left the boats, the nets--everything--and followed Him. To be fishers of men. Interestingly, they could be found in boats in various places in the gospels. Jesus got in the boat with them often. To preach. To calm the raging storm. And then he walked toward the boat on the water, calling Peter out of the boat to walk toward Him. But on this post-resurrection morning, Jesus was on the beach. He called them all out of the boat. It wasn't about fish anymore...it was about sheep. For Peter, Jesus said that loving selflessly and sacrificially could be exemplified by tending His lambs (those new, vulnerable ones of His flock still on spiritual milk), and shepherding His sheep (the big-C Church needs shepherds who have the very heart of God). Which leaves the third question...."Do you phileo me? Tend my sheep." Who are the sheep? If the lamb and sheep analogies are parallel, the sheep are the mature ones of the flock. They, like Peter, have walked with the Lord for a while and know His heart. They are His philos. And just as we gain strength and joy from a heart connection with Christ, we will be blessed in the same way by serving, loving, and living in community with His friends.

Earlier in John's gospel, Jesus gave His disciples a new commandment, "that you agapeo one another, even as I have loved you...By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have agape for one another (13:34-35)." Lest all these thoughts on phileos be misconstrued as an excuse to love and be friends only with people we like and with whom we have common interests, Jesus and His agape love sets the standard. He laid His life down. For us. Because He knew that giving it all up was the only way to gain everything that pertains to life. Go and do likewise.

"Even as I have loved you..."

Cows Are a Window To My Soul

I read an Erwin McManus book once in which he made a statement that went something like this: "Absolute power does not corrupt. Absolute power reveals." This was based on the fact that God is all-powerful, but God is also good. Absolute power has not corrupted Him. Therefore, absolute power reveals the inherent goodness or evil of the possessor.
That popped into my head just now because of a series of incidents that happened on the farm last week. I am not proud of it, but it was an important lesson for me. God hasn't given me absolute power. He gave me cows. And it seems that He has a way of using them to expose darkness within me that has yet to be replaced with light.
The story begins in the middle of May, and Tansy the cow had her first baby, a heifer calf. Tansy is a nice-looking cow, pretty good disposition, good milking potential, so her calf will probably make a good milk cow one day, too. The problem was, she was born about 6 weeks after the first calves started coming and when the age span is too big on a seasonal dairy, the young ones can fall behind their herdmates in growth after weaning, as well as being smaller at breeding the following year. So I debated, "Do I sell her now or keep her? Sell her or keep her?" I finally opted to hold on to her.
Fast-forward to June 22. We had separated the calves the day before, after putting the weaning rings in their noses a few days earlier to break the nursing habit. Unfortunately a handful of the calves had figured out how to nurse in spite of their new jewelry, and Tansy's calf Twyla had lost hers twice so I didn't bother putting it back in a second time. The morning after separating, I woke up to hear cows bawling and discovered the calves had managed to get the gate off the hinge and some had been reunited with their mamas. All of those were ones that had still been nursing, including Twyla. The others were across the road, fairly contentedly looking at the remaining bawling mamas! That was a lot of extra work to go through that morning, but we got them separated again and fixed the hinge problem.
The next morning as I was getting the cows in I realized I heard a cow, not just calves, bawling up at the weaning pen. It was Tansy. She had jumped through or over more than one electric fence to get up there. Dad found her and brought her down the lane to the milking parlor. She was milked and sent back out with the others. Before I finished hosing down the lot after milking, she was back in and went through the fence...and another...and another...and another... and was back up the road within minutes.
By this time, I was starting to get a little disgusted with her lack of respect for the fences. I should also mention that I was getting extremely tired from not enough sleep recently and my emotional reserves were just about shot. If you've ever seen Aladdin, where Genie is disguised as a bee while his master is trying to woo Princess Jasmine and she is trying to trip him up, Genie sees what's coming and starts the sirens and beeping, yelling, "WARNING! WARNING! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!"...as he crashes and burns. Yeah, Tansy needed a bee like that. Or maybe I did.
So dad and I joined forces and we got her back in the lane. I tried to keep her moving straight ahead, but before we got all the way down to the other barn, she went through the fence again and I could not keep her from running back up through the field. If blood can boil in a body, mine was then. My rage exploded in the form of shouted threats of violence of a terminal nature to the cow (she was completely oblivious, of course, maybe for the best), followed by angry sobbing.
In the end, we loaded her on the stock trailer and she spent the next 20-some hours in solitary confinement. Rather quietly, too. The next day she bawled a bit, but stayed where she was supposed to.
As I confessed my stupid antics to my friend the other day, she said if she was a farmer she'd just end up letting them all stay together because she wouldn't have the heart to separate them. "All she wanted was to be with her baby." Yep, Tansy was just following her God-given maternal instincts. I gave in to some carnal instincts, which was beneficial in no way except to release steam in the heat of the moment. And really, it's embarrassing to admit and even think about what I sounded like to anyone who happened to be within earshot.
Well, the ironic thing about all this is that I sold Twyla yesterday. A man who has been buying my summer heifer calves was wanting more of them. Twyla wasn't as fat as the other calves and I knew there was a chance she might not keep growing as fast as the rest of them in the group so I thought I'd let her go somewhere that she'd get some special individual treatment and do just fine.
When the fact hit home that I could have avoided the biggest part of the grief of last week if I'd have just sold her soon after birth, I had a moment of regret. But then the thought occurred to me that in all likelihood, God had just used this calf and her mama to reveal another place of darkness in my soul that he wants to heal and transform. And honestly, when situations like this happen on the farm, it's always in concert with other triggers like fatigue and emotional stress. In other words, it goes deeper than disobedient cows. Disobedient cows don't corrupt, they reveal! Well, sometimes they corrupt, but that's another story, and the corruption is with their herdmates, not their shepherd...
Like Paul describes in Romans 7, there are times when I do what I don't want to do and what I want to do, I don't. God knows all this and continues to patiently wait for me to walk all the way out into the River (Ezekiel 47) so He can have His way in me, probably knowing all the while I am my own worst enemy. He is not holding last week against me, and has probably already chosen to forget it, although He still desires to help me work through the root causes for the anger and hurt in the first place.
So there you have it. Proof that I'm still a work in progress.

Mary & Martha Revisited

My mom and I went to visit my brother Jess last week in Maryland. While we were there, we got to talking about the idea of rest. I mentioned how this past year there had been several times the biblical account of Mary and Martha had given me cause for reflection. When Jesus came to visit, Martha busied herself with many tasks, but Mary sat at his feet drinking in his every word and soaking up his presence. I saw why it was so important to have the same heart Mary did in recognizing what was most important, but it was hard to figure out how to achieve that without shirking responsibility.
Our conversation that evening at Jess's cleared up some confusion. How many of us are driven to perform for the sake of something? It could be for something as material as money, or the less tangible deep emotional need for approval. Maybe it's a desire to maintain some sort of control in life, or a feeling that our human efforts are the only thing standing between success and failure.
Whatever the reason, if we labor under the delusion that we must perform to have value, I think we'll miss what Mary found. The fact is, God loves each of us simply because you and I are human beings...not human doings. There is nothing we can do to be accepted, to be loved, to be deemed worthy. We just are. The sooner we give in to this, the more Mary's choice will make sense. Her relationship with Jesus is what defined her. Maybe Martha's tasks weren't the problem. Maybe it was that she busied herself with accomplishing them at the expense of the relationship. It may be a very fine line to walk, but if we can find our identity in who the Lord is and who He says we are, we can work from a state of rest. Psalm 46:10 says, "Cease striving and know that I am God."
As the winter draws to a close and a new production season is about to begin, I know that things are going to be getting busier around here again. I would do well to remember that my efforts may be necessary in being a good steward of what God has loaned us for now, but having a heart that, like Mary's, will sit at Jesus' feet whether I'm working or not could mean the difference between burnout and Sabbath rest.
What about you? Have you learned to work from a place of rest?