Jesus in the Goat Barn

We lost our little black pygmy goat this week. Baby was a petite little thing, half the size of her sister, Stella. While Stella and Buck, our little boy goat, would run off when we got too close, Baby would linger awhile — letting us pet her little nose or head or offer her one more blackberry leaf. She seemed to enjoy connecting with us more than the others.

Watching her spring through the pasture on sunny days brought smiles to our faces and gladness to our hearts. There’s something about watching an animal take joy in just being what God created it to be. There was no doubt that Baby loved being a goat.

The pace of our lives gets so fast, so hectic at times; we often forget to simply take joy in being who we are and appreciating the creatures who share their lives with us.

When Baby fell ill last week, our busy-ness came to a screeching halt as we all circled around her, trying to make her comfortable and praying for a miracle. Sitting there with our son, watching as he held her head up and hand-fed her blackberry leaves, I commented, “you know, Jesus is holding Baby right now; we just can’t see Him.” But as I walked away, I realized I had it all wrong.

Because Jesus was right there, on a cold morning before school, in the hands of a teenage boy whose heart was breaking as he fed this helpless little animal. He was there in the arms of a teenage girl who didn’t care about stink and stench of the barn as she held Baby close, offering comfort and warmth and love. And He was there in a man who, every few hours, tended to Baby with a bottle of orange Pedialyte and blackberry leaves, making sure she had plenty of clean hay, warm towels, and the comfort of company. And He was surely present in a woman who hates barn smells, but whose heart dragged her in there to help with the rest of the family.

In the muck and filth of the goat barn, in the midst of our hoping and praying and grieving, Jesus was there — using our hearts and our hands to care for His own little goat — tuning our hearts ever so closer to Him.

Theologians can argue all they want about whether or not animals have souls, and why sheep are the ones that come out shining in the Bible. From now on, when I picture Jesus in his long white robes, walking through a field, he’ll be holding a little black goat in his arms.

Rest in peace, Baby.

 

Changes on the farm

It’s been more than a year since I’ve updated this blog…the farm drama was just becoming too intense. As of right now, both Easter and Cinnamon are infected with CL and we’re tentatively planning to have them put down.

In April, we acquired Olive, a pregnant doe and she gave birth to baby Solstice on the first day of summer. The idea was to keep them separated from the boys so they wouldn’t contract CL. But several times now they’ve gotten in the same pen – that’s the thing with goats. They’re always on the wrong side of a fence, and even with a really well built pen, it’s really tough to keep them contained.It’s very disappointing. I think Jim is ready to give up the goat husbandry for awhile. Baby Solstice is so very sweet and beautiful. It will be hard to let her go.

Our little husky/dachshund dog, Ivan, has the sweetest temper, but he’s got a big flaw for a farm dog: he’s a chicken killer. He effectively polished off our entire flock a few weeks ago. Earlier this year, he had gotten out and killed all of the young hens. He doesn’t even eat them….seems to kill them just for sport. It’s been very hard on the children, who, despite our best efforts, named and made pets out of each individual hen. They loved those birds, and were very distraught with their untimely deaths.

So, it’s store-bought organic eggs for us right now and before long we’ll be extremely low on goats. We’re going from a goat infestation to a goat shortage. Life on a farm isn’t the peaceful portrayal we see in movies like Babe or Charlotte’s web. It’s about the hard realities of life. There are plenty of blessings, to be sure, but lately it’s been one hardship after another.

On a positive note, the sugar pumpkins have been harvested and Jim has been baking them all day. I’ve got a 3rd loaf of pumpkin bread in the oven right now, and it’s making the house smell wonderful. Fresh sugar pumpkins and pumpkin bread – see, there are 2 blessings right there.