Shortgrass
Well-known member
I do enjoy cattle. You, my fellow cattlemen, can relate. Cows have their own identities. I watched a cow trotting frantically about the pasture in search of her calf. I parked the pick-up next to her baby, and just watched the mother, a quarter mile away, work herself into a frenzy. Finally she headed our way. The calf perked up when she heard her mother's call. As the calf stood up and returned bawls, the cow just stopped, and then the calf took off running to the cow. I could almost hear the cow saying "where have you been? I told you not to leave without my permission!" Another cow calved two days ago, and still won't allow her baby to mix with those "other rowdy kids" that will undoubtedly corrupt her baby. Then yet another calved yesterday, and when we went to tag this morning, her calf was on the feed ground, and she was nowhere to be seen. She is one of those "I don't care what you do, just stay out of my hair and be home by supper" moms. Which cow is the best? I don't know. I suppose it is the one with the heaviest calf. Wait a minute; it would be the one with the heaviest average, lowest input calf over the most years. It ain't over till its over. So it is with a fruitful Christian life. There remains work to be done, and lives to be touched. This work requires a variety of personalities. The measure of our fruitfulness remains as much, or more, in the future as in the past; in our willingness more than our ability, talents or personality. Let us lift up our eyes, as the fields are white unto harvest. Have a good Sunday mornin', and a great rest of the week, too.
