The cows didn’t pay much attention to me. I went plodding through the barnyard, switched the gates around, and went through all the same motions that happen twice every day at milking time. Motions that come second nature for me, yet have not been my world for over 4 years now.
I go for months without setting foot in the barn, and somehow I’m never quite prepared for the nostalgia that hits me.
The sentimental side of me enjoyed the trip down Memory’s Lane-missing the old days of working with Julia, stumbling out of bed in the middle of the night to check on the maternity lot to find a new calf, bedding calves and mixing feed- the daily dairy demands.
But then the practical side of me took back over and reminded me that I’d been on Memory’s Lane long enough- that Sherm is a much bettter dairyman, and that I was terrible at getting up for the morning milking, and recurring back issues often left me skimping out on my share of the workload-while my sweet family filled in… thank you for the reminder, O Practical One 🙄
Before I completely left my sentimental journey, I analyzed why I miss those days. And I came up with a conclusion: because I know what happens next. I know how the next chapter goes: what happens to the key players, and how each puzzle piece fits together, and the sheer joy of living each adventure.
Recently I’ve been challenged by a recurring phrase in my devotions. Matthew’s stories about the early life of Christ keep stating “that it might be fulfilled.” Jesus’s life was full of obstacles that directed the story of His life “that it might be fulfilled” (like the midnight flight to Egypt).
Do you ever look at the crazy turn of events in your life and question? Sometimes I think the rough jagged edges of the current puzzle piece weren’t made to fit into the picture my life is telling. But I believe that God carefully places them, and occasionally allows me to look back with understanding. I love those reminders of God’s wisdom, faithfully writing my story.
This has been a rambling post-but I hope you’ve followed my thought pattern: God directs the steps of our lives, organizing details that are so far above our ways, to have us where He needs is to be, to be of most service to Him… that it might be fulfilled.
May you find peace with whatever shape your current puzzle piece is, knowing that the finished product will be a masterpiece …
I haven’t been on the road much recently, but I’ve got a few pics to share (the others from this post came from the dusty archives 😅) I had a day trip to Mt Jackson, where our hosts lived in this beautiful old 1770s era plantation Home. This house doubled as a hospital in the Civil War and had visible blood stains on the floor 🤕. But what really stood out to me was the stairs leading to the slave quarters, where the current home owner had researched the slaves who’d lived there, and the price they’d brought at market, and she’d commemorated them on the steps… real people, real stories, never dying souls…