Learning from Experience

Some of you may remember the Water Wars from last year (and Water Races and Water Wars Again. (You can click on the links if you've forgotten) 

During an outrageous Arctic Blast, my water froze at the barn and in every line going to every automatic waterer I had. To keep water going to all the livestock, I hauled water for hours before AND after work to the barn, to the cow waterer, to the horse waterer. You get the idea. It was awful. To make matters worse, I had to heat the water in my kitchen, then pour it into the buckets for some reason which I have, thank the dear Lord, forgotten about now. Anyway, it was just awful and to make matters much worse, before it was all over, the water in my kitchen froze while it was dripping out of my faucet, leaving me with a very interesting icicle dangling from the faucet! After that, I really had a water adventure!

I was determined not to have a repeat performance this year. When I saw that we were about to have another Arctic Assault, I almost panicked. Then, I suddenly remembered. Oh yeah! I've learned from my mistake! When I was finally able to get away from hauling water long enough to get to the farm supply store last year, I snapped up two water heaters as quick as a flash. They've been in my cabinet ever since. These are just marvelous contraptions that are electric hot sticks to put in water buckets. They heat the water and prevent freezing. No hauling. No heating. Just plug and go. 

Before the temperature started dropping yesterday, I ran an extension cord to the automatic waterers, plugged in my water heaters, and put them to work. Marvelous! They are marvelous! I was a little nervous about the water this morning, especially when the water in the stall buckets was frozen. Needless to say, I dreaded checking the automatic waterers for fear of what I would find. Much to my surprise and delight, they were fine. No ice. Just nice warm water. The horses didn't really like the warm water, but it's much better than ice. 

I've been back and forth to the barn today, checking on the water and being sure all the animals are situated, and all day I've rejoiced at having learned from experience. It's a funny thing about learning from experience. I don't always do it, do you? It seems like making a bad decision and suffering consequences would prompt us to say, "I am never doing that again!" But no. We have a tendency to make a decision, suffer a few consequences, then turn around and do it all again. How silly is that? Very! Today, though, I've had such a wonderful result from what I learned last year that I've decided to learn from some of my other less than stellar experiences, too. I've made a list of a few things I'm going to be doing differently, and you might consider making a list of your own. Speaking with the Voice of Experience, it's a much better way to go.

Stay warm and may your water ever flow!

The Ripe Tomato

My friend Debbie Hayden saw a great raised bed on Pinterest, and talked her husband Durick into building it for her. Little did she know, but I had been pondering raised beds and an easier way to garden. For two decades, I had huge gardens, spending innumerable hours canning and processing the vegetables I grew. The last few years, however, I've skipped the vegetable garden because of the work involved. I missed having my own vegetables, though. I didn't have time for lots of hoeing and tilling, but something easier might work, and I pondered it so long that I finally realized I was "too late" to plant a garden. 

I was too late, that is, until Debbie and Durick made their raised bed. When Debbie posted pictures on Facebook, I began to think I might have a garden after all. When she posted pictures of the seedlings growing, I was sold on the project. 

The old white farm truck was loaded down with concrete blocks and garden soil that early Saturday morning. Bill the Magnificent took one look at the load and said, "What in the world are you up to now?" Before long, he could see for himself. The raised bed was a reality. I planted my seeds and an heirloom tomato plant and started watering and watching. In no time at all, I had seedlings of my own. 

In Blue Springs, gardeners plant with the idea of having a ripe tomato by July 4th. Of course that date came and went with the only ripe tomatoes coming from someone else's garden. This week, however, there's been just enough from the garden: one squash a day, plenty of herbs, and lovely cut flowers, but no tomatoes. Yesterday, one of the tomatoes was finally red. After one more day to ripen on the vine, it was part of supper tonight. Yum! Home grown tomatoes!  It turns out that I wasn't too late after all!

You may not do this, but I have so much going on that the most pressing things get done first, leaving some of the less pressing but most desired things undone. That ripe tomato reminded me that second chances are worth seizing. 

Are you putting off something you'd really like to do (or really should do) because of more pressing matters? Why not take advantage of a second chance and get it done. After all, there's truth in the old adage, "Better late than never".  My ripe tomato is proof of that! 

(PS - I know that's a picture of squash, but I'd already eaten the tomato!)

A Brotherly Welcome

His shirt was seldom buttoned and didn't always cover his expanding belly.  For some unexplained reason, his face was often cherry red, and more of his teeth were missing than remained.

I was never sure why, but he always called me "Sister."  Never "Dr. Hollis" or even "Leanna."  Just Sister.  He was so gruff that I was afraid of him at first.  He never believed a thing I told him, and he argued with every instruction I gave.  I was never sure why he came to see me in the first place, unless it was for the free samples.

I came to like him pretty well, but I sure never thought I was his "sister."  More often than not, he smelled like stale beer.  I wasn't sure he could read, and, as far as I knew, he had never held a job.

When my farm manager got sick, I was up to my knees in manure, struggling to do all the work myself - just to prove I could.  Late one afternoon, my gruff patient showed up in an ancient, rattling green truck.  "I come to put out a bale of hay for ya'."  I headed to the barn on foot, but he stopped me.  "Ain't no sense in walking.  Hop in, you can ride with me.  I just vacuumed it out this mornin'."  I hesitated briefly, then opened the door, moved a variety of lids and tools, and climbed inside.

Once at the barn, he rejected my late-model Ford tractor in favor of a 40-year-old Massey Ferguson relic.  He hopped on board, cranked it up, and headed out.  "I'll be right back," he said.  I watched from the horse barn as he drove to the hay barn, struggled to load a big bale, and headed back.  Several times it looked as if he would mire down in the mud, but each time he managed to guide the old tractor through the bog.

As I watched, I thought about how kind it was for him to give up nearly two hours of his day and wade through mud to put out hay for someone he didn't know well.  That Still Small Voice whispered in my heart, "Almost like family, isn't it?"  Instantly, I was ashamed of all those times I had resented being called "Sister."  The truth was that I had thought I was better than he was.  I was too good even to be his sister in Christ, yet he was wading through mud and manure for me.  It looked like he had a better understanding of God's family than I did.

He didn't slow down once the bale was in place; instead, he headed straight to his truck.  As he opened the door and climbed inside, he called back, "Hey, Sister, you need me, you know where to find me. You better call me, you hear?"

"I will," I said, smiling as I waved goodbye to my newfound brother.

My heart changed that day.  I became more genuine in my concern for those different from me - more willing to reach out and more willing to welcome in.

How do you see people in the body of Christ who are different from you?  Do they look like brothers and sisters to you, or something less than family?  Are you anything like I was:  friendly on the outside but condescending on the inside?

Take a look at your heart.  Ask Jesus to make your heart more like His, especially toward those who are different from you.  You may find that your "family" begins to grow in the most unexpected ways.

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This article first appeared in Physician magazine, July/August 2004

Mamie meets something big

The dogs have been confined to the house because of the recent rain and have been eager for a romp. This morning, Mamie was barking non-stop for a chance to accompany me to the barn. As usual, she buzzed the cats and hopped on their heads, barked at the chickens through the stall door, and ran in circles, happily playing with any creature that could be enticed to join her.

Because she is so little, still weighing only 5 1/2 lbs, she is usually confined to the tack room when the barn doors are opened to let the horses inside. This morning, she was bouncing and hopping so much that she hopped away from me before I knew it. I was already opening the barn doors and the horses were heading inside for breakfast. 

Mamie has seen the horses before, but she has mostly seen their hooves. This morning, she plunked her bottom down in the dirt, looked up as the first horse headed inside, and dropped her mouth wide open in amazement.  She was so surprised that she sat perfectly still and watched. It was clear that she had, for the first time, realized how very large the horses are in comparison to her own tiny self. She didn't move a muscle until all the horses were in their stalls. 

Little Mamie, apprentice wonder puppy, has a new appreciation for how small she is beside those big horses, and a little better understanding of who she is not. That's a pretty important piece of information for puppies, but it's important for us, too, isn't it?  It's easy to get so caught up in our own little part of the world that we forget how big this planet is and how vast the population. 

An even bigger risk is that we see ourselves as "big", yet fail to recognize the vast omnipotence of God. We see the "hooves" without ever noticing the whole of Him. Perhaps we need to do what Mamie did this morning. Sit down, look up, and watch for the entire revelation. 

Be still, and know that I am God... I will be exalted in the earth. (Psalms 46:10 KJV)

  

Jack is Back

Jack is back. You may remember Jack, the stray miniature donkey that was really a miniature horse.  He lives in Blue Springs with his family, but he is a terrible rambler. In fact, he is the worst prodigal I have ever seen. Never content at home, he escapes as often as possible. His ramblings have frequently brought him to visit my horses. When he was arrested for getting in the street a while back, he was returned to his family, who intensified their efforts to contain him. 

I didn't see Jack for weeks, and thought the prodigal had finally changed. Early one morning last week, I headed to the barn, put out feed, and let the horses in for their breakfast. When I went back to let them out, I opened Belle's stall door and out walked Jack! He was visiting again. Since all my previous efforts with Jack were futile, I just let him into the pasture and sent word to his owners. 

Jack didn't come back for a few days, and I was optimistic. As I headed up the driveway last Thursday, though, I had a surprise. Jack was tied to a tree, patiently waiting for his owners to come get him again. Before his arrest, I had watched him crawl back and forth under my fence like it was a wonderful game. There is no way I can contain him. I don't know what his owners will have to do to keep him home, but it seems a nearly insurmountable problem. 

What's amazing to me is that the owners keep coming to get him and they keep trying to, well, keep him. I would have given up on this little horse long ago. Their perseverance with Jack is surprising, but their constant, consistent efforts makes me think of something Peter wrote. 

"The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:9 NASB)

Maybe Jack's owners hope he will finally change and be the stay-at-home horse they meant him to be, and I hope that, too. His wanderings are really pesty, though, and I wonder if my own ramblings are as pesty to God. Of course, God 's hopes for us are as high as Jack's family's are for him. That's why He constantly, consistently takes us back from our wanderings, keeping us safe until we finally decide to be where and who He meant us to be. 

Are you a faith-rambler? Do you wander to and from faithfulness to our Lord, or stay close beside Him all the time? Jack's ramblings have caused him to miss out on the closeness of a family that loves him. What have your ramblings cost you?  Stay close, dear ones. Stay close.