August 4, 2020





Calling the Master



"...he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities." Matthew 14:13





Lord, thank you for showing me Your grace, even this, that the grass grows.


Lord, thank you for teaching me through Your Word and through Your animals.


Lord, thank you for the sunshine.


Today's Scripture: Matthew 14


When I move the cows, they follow me. Most often, they moo at me the minute they see me. I mean fresh grass, and each cow knows the routine. I walk down the path, past the pasture they are in to the next pasture and open the gate. They eagerly follow, anticipating fresh, clean, untrampled grass.


Their calves, on the other hand, do not quite see things the same way. They think all the acres belong to them.


Our pastures are essentially one or two acre paddocks separated by a single string of electric fence. A single string is used so that the calves at a young age can easily slip under the wire if they get separated from their momma. As they grow older, they learn to respect the wire and will generally neither jump over or run under they wire. But until then, they 'creep' away from their moms and graze on grass, usually ahead of what the cows get.


Last week, I did as normal and walked down to the next gate, opened and stepped aside to let the cows enter. Once all the cows were in, I noticed #13's head go up and ears flick forward. Looking over her shoulder, her mother instinct kicked in and she started bawling. "Baby, where are you?" She headed back to the gate.


Now, that's pretty typical for a good momma cow to do, so I went about my business of checking fence, waters, mineral, protein tubs, moving the heifers, and other such daily tasks, all the while listening to the bellowing of ole' #13. Soon enough she was standing on one side of an electric wire and baby on the other. Baby, of course, was in a pasture where the gate was closed and Momma was convinced she could not get to him, so she bellowed. And bellowed. And made sure I heard her cry loud and clear.


I amble down the pasture, stepping over one electric wire after another as I cross the acres. "Now honey, you're going to be just fine, and so's your baby."


She looks at me and lets out a long and loud "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" in protest.

Baby just stands there watching momma.


"Baby, you could go under the fence."


Momma, "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO".


I sigh and walk to the gate. Momma follows on her side of the single wire. Baby follows, too. I open the gate. Momma trots in side, and I say, "Now, I'd appreciate if you'd take your baby out so I can close the gate."

Momma pushes baby, but baby was havin' nothin' of it. He went to nursing. Momma looks at me. I sigh. They'd eventually go. When a baby's hungry, all else stops.

Chuckling, I went to work and came back at the end of the day. Both Momma and baby had made it to the herd.

I got to thinking. How often do we bawl at a circumstance we can most certainly deal with if we were willing to risk a quick 'shock' but chose not to, because we've trained ourselves to believe that all pain must be avoided at all cost?


I wonder how often God watches us do silly things like that cow and calf, simply because we are sticking to our boundaries, even though God has brought us to greener pastures? And we choose to go back to retrieve what we think we've lost?


I have seen that calf duck under fences, even earlier that week. So, I know he could have gone to Momma. I've seen Mommas jump fences to get to their babies if they are desperate enough. But here those two were, unwilling to move. Perhaps it was a battle of wills. Perhaps it was simple stubborn laziness.


Like my cows, the multitudes in Matthew 14 followed Jesus, even to a desert place. There, Jesus had compassion and healed many of them.


The disciples (who frequently lacked vision, faith, and understanding--as do I) were concerned. "...send the multitude away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves victuals." (Matthew 14:15).


So was Momma cow lacking vision, faith, and understanding, and she was concerned.


What the disciples suggested seemed like a logical solution.


"But Jesus said unto them, They need not depart give ye them to eat. And they say unto him, We have here but five loaves, and two fishes." (v.16-17)


The disciples were not able to see the possibilities, trained by life to be limited by the boundaries of human logic and what they could only see with their eyes.

Momma cow, trained to respect the boundary of a single wire fence that would give no greater a shock than that of static electricity we get after rubbing our feet on carpet and touching a doorknob, saw no solution to her problem but to bellow.


Praise be to God who is not limited by our logic, our vision, or our boundaries.


"He said, Bring them hither to me. And he commanded the multitude to sit down on the grass, and took the five loaves, and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, he blessed, and brake, and gave the loaves to his disciples, and the disciples to the multitude. And they did all eat, and were filled: and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full. And they that had eaten were about five thousand men, beside women and children." (Matthew 14:18-21)


Like the cow, I've often 'bellowed' at God or the circumstances when I can't see the possibilities God does, when I fear that circumstantial 'wire' might have a greater shock than I'm able to take. How often have I cried out when the situation I find myself in is overwhelming, because I've gone against what God directed or gone back from where He's taken me to find something I think I've lost. Wow.


Lord, thank you for not being limited by boundaries.

Thank you for coming when I call because I've limited myself by boundaries.

Thank you for Your mercy and grace when I do not obey, or foolishly turn back from where You've brought me.