It was early morning. Dark and cold. Richard pulled on rubber boots and stood in the doorway.
“I know she’s out there,” he said.
As a city girl who married her handsome farmer, the work and hours still amazed me.
Out of 120 cows, one hadn’t come up at 4 a.m. She was due to calve and the frigid weather was not a safe haven.
As a newlywed, I wrapped up in clothes still unfamiliar. Coveralls. Rubber boots. Thick socks. Gloves, a scarf, and a warm cap.
Mud pulled at my boots, sucking my feet into mire. After several minutes of this, I was breathing hard with exertion. At the back of the pasture, dead trees and bushes snarled together along a creek.
Richard climbed up a steep bank. “You can wait for me,” he said.
I crawled and stumbled up, slipping and sliding until I stood beside him.
And then we saw her.
Her sides heaving. Her tail in the air. Her nostrils flared. Richard scrambled down beside her and we both saw the calf trying to emerge.
How long had she been in distress?
Brambles pulled at my coveralls and snagged my scarf. Richard began to gently talk to the momma cow, and work with her to pull the calf. The trees and brambles and bushes created a shelter of sorts, but the barn would have offered fresh hay and warmth.
She left the herd, not uncommon, but went far from safety in the process.
The calf was finally delivered and the momma eased up from her side. She stood, shaking at first, but then nature took over and she nuzzled her calf.
After the first drink of colostrum, Richard picked up the calf — all 60 pounds or so — and we walked back to the barn, through the mud, over the bank, through the brambles. I walked beside the momma cow, amazed at her ability and determination to follow her baby and her trust in Richard and I in spite of what she had just been through.
It’s been years since Richard and I farmed. He’s a licensed counselor now and I’m in ministry, but those early years of marriage on the farm taught me many lessons.
Most of them when the sun was creeping up over the horizon. Here’s the most important.
We can never go so far that we cannot be found by our Savior.
We may have run in the other direction, thinking that God would somehow forget us in the crowd. We may have hidden, isolated, or covered up, thinking that our brokenness or pain wasn’t worth noticing.
But what I’ve found in Luke 4:18-20 is that Jesus left everything to look for us.
He not only cares about our brokenness, but He came specifically to find us and make us whole.
You might be hiding your hurt, and sitting on a pew.
You might have tried everything, and finally gave up.
Perhaps you’re successful in a thousand different ways, but you desperately want God to touch and mend the parts of you that no one sees.
You are safe with Jesus.
Whether brokenness or pain is a result of your own actions, or those of another, He’s looking for you and that love carries you to a safe place.
In this week’s Proverbs 31 online Bible study of The Mended Heart, we’re discovering one more way that our faith in Christ heals us.
Many beautiful women are discovering that they are not alone. Will you join us in this study? It’s not too late!
Here’s the first three chapters just for you. Read them online. Print them out. They are yours.
I hope I see you there.
It’s also #livefreeThursday, one of my favorite days of the week because women from all over the nation come together to talk about Jesus, faith, and real life. Come on in and join the conversation. ~ Suzie