Daily Mercy

Published on by Kim1 Comment

We cut hay this week. It was some nice, thick hay too. Lots of rain has generated more grass in the pastures than the herd can even eat. Such a blessing!

But now we wait. We wait and pray for no rain while the thick hay dries out before getting baled for the winter. We wait and pray because wet hay rots; and the time, energy, fuel, and replacement cost combine to put a high value on the newly-mown hay and future bales. We wait and pray because, for now, there is nothing else we can do. The weather is completely out of our control.

Being at the mercy of the weather brings our lack of control front and center. We are helpless in ourselves. While less obvious most days, this helplessness is no less true of any of our other efforts. Our plans and our schedules, while our responsibility, are not written in stone and not entirely up to us. We plan, but God determines how the day actually goes. Stuff happens. Plans change. Fatigue comes.

This could be discouraging, but today let’s dwell on the truth that our weather and our times and our days (and our hayfields) are at the mercy of an infinitely merciful God. If we need mercy, He is by far the best One to turn to! How much mercy has He already shown? He delights in showing yet more. As our salvation, so our days depend “not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy.” (Romans 9:16) And what a mercy it is, too! A rich mercy, shown with great love. (Ephesians 2:4).

Feeling helpless? Remember this mercy.

We Need Community

Published on by Kim

He was pretty cute. They all are in the beginning — babyish, affectionate, frisky — then they grow up into big, old animals. Except he didn’t.

He was his mother’s first calf, and she was pretty young. She dropped him off cycle, so he was the only new calf in the herd at the time. All the others were 5-6 months old, eating grass and ready to wean. She didn’t know what to do, and we didn’t interfere soon enough. Forced nursing, subbing in a wet nurse, bottle feeding — these were all later temporary measures, and they worked for the moment. But ultimately he needed to be cared for and run with the herd. He never got there.

This was a hard one to swallow. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t old and at the end of a natural life. He was rejected by his mother and his community, and he died. It is easy to despise the cow, but she was also ignored by the experienced mamas in the herd. They didn’t guide or help out. She was as on her own as the calf was.

As my heart aches over this loss, I don’t want to waste the reminder of our need for each other. It takes a herd, so to speak. As we love each other, we are giving life. Caring for our neighbor is not just “part of life” but life. We need to fulfill our God-given callings personally (like the mama cow), and we need to help others as they fulfill theirs (like the herd should have). Experienced words and helping hands are treasures, and we are the better for them as we both give and take.

Life is not meant to be lived or sustained alone. Let’s let the life we’ve received flow to sustain the lives we touch. It’s a beautiful cycle when it flows. It’s heart-breaking when it doesn’t.