I think there's a farmer living inside me trying to get out
So today I went with a friend to check on his cattle which are being cared for at a feed lot, which is kind of like daycare for cows, but lasts for months.
The cow daycare is run by a mennonite couple and their 20 something son, and just meeting them started to awaken memories in me.
Their large linoleumÂ covered dining area held the center of their home, a long plastic covered table. Most of the kitchen chairs were stacked in the corner, beside the low wide bookcase holding a well worn book collection. TheÂ cuckooÂ clock tick tocking away, and theÂ westminsterÂ clock chiming the quarter hour. A german calendarÂ hangingÂ on the wall with theÂ Dezember page up, and some butcherÂ wrappedÂ meat thawing in a bowl on the counter. All amazingly similar to my memories at my grandparents place.
The thing that caught me the most was the smell. It was a mix of fresh baked bread and wood polish and farm smell. Not a bad smell, but a wonderfully graceful odor, if a smell can be graceful. It was just like I had experienced so many times before, at my grandparents and great-grandparents farm houses. It wasÂ mesmerizingÂ in a way that took my breath away. I had been there a thousand times before, even though it was my first time.Â
The spirit of these people was comforting and gracious, same spirit as those who made up my childhood farm experiences, my grandparents. People of faith who knew how to pray and work hard and trust God to provide for them.Â
My trip to the cattle daycare was like a trip down memory lane, with a reminder of where I came from. There are qualities of their lives that I want in my life too, and that spirit is the quality I want the most. Thankfully I don't need to become a farmer to have it, because the spirit of graciousness and love is the spirit of Jesus.Â
It's quite simple really. I just need to remember where I came from, and where I'm going.