Heaven Is...

In my life I have known, and lost, many good cattlemen, cowboys, cowpokes, cowpunchers and the like.  Call them what you may, but folks that have a deep appreciation for the land and its bovine inhabitants.  

Each time one passes my initial wave of grief is replaced by a deep gratitude and I am able to find solace in the fact that heaven is not unfamiliar territory to them.  

John 14:2 states that "In my Father's house are many rooms.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?". 

Although I understand the intent behind the verse and how Jesus is preparing a place for us in heaven, but I shudder at the thought of a grand mansion with many rooms. 

I believe heaven is a cool, crisp morning in the hills - perhaps mid-May.  You can almost watch the young, tender grass that was burned a few weeks earlier shoot up towards the sky.  The blades are covered in dew and when the sun peaks over the horizon and rays of sunshine hit these droplets the ground sparkles in a brilliant, dazzling display that diamonds could never compare to.  The sky is covered in an array of pink, purple, orange and yellow.  The enormity in this silent explosion of grandeur and majesty is a simple reminder of our small role in this magnificent place.  You're gently reminded of your small role by the low, calm bawl from a calf or two and watch as a cloud of steam lifts from their nostrils with each breath. 

Words could never full do it justice, nor could an artist's brush.  To experience such beauty is a privilege not lost on anyone although most don't wax poetically about it. 

No, heaven is not unfamiliar territory for a good cattleman.  Heaven is just another day in your Father's pasture. 

Adorable versus Expected

We've slowly phased into a new era of parenting, and I can't say I'm disappointed.  Life used to be so cute.  

Adorable.

Charming.

Darling.

No more, my friends.  No more.  

These days the kids are starting to really earn their keep and it's amazing just how capable they are.  I wish more parents took some training wheels off their completely grown adult children to see what they can manage.  

Then: The kids used to enjoy riding the dozer with their dad, and still do on occasion.  
Now:  It's not uncommon for one of us to yell at them to pull it out of the way while we need to work on something else.  

Then:  I used to bring a high chair to strap a baby into while we worked calves.  I'd give them rocks and sticks to play with I checked on them constantly through the bars of the chute. 

Now: Kenyon likes to reload my syringes because he's faster than me.  I'm not complaining.  

Then:  The kids sat on Wesley's lap while he hauled or fed cattle. 

Now:  I'm glad you can drive a pickup and gooseneck.  It would be a lot handier if you knew how to drive a stick and could take the groundload. 

Then:  Please go outside the shop - I need to weld and we can't hurt your eyes!

Now:  Where is your welding helmet?!  Why am I doing this myself?!

Then:  We'd explain how we were giving this calf a shot to make him feel better. 

Now:  Child #1 questions every doctoring decision and gives his two cents on what he would rather administer if he were running the show.  I had tears of laughter while working calves that day.  Father and son had a heated discussion about what medicines were *right* for the situation.  Wesley looked at me through the chute and rolled his eyes.  Not five seconds later I made eye contact with my son who gave me a similar exasperated look and threw his hands in the air to emphasize just how ignorant his father was.  

Then:  What's that squeaking sound? 

Now:  Yeah, Mom, I'm gonna be a little late to lunch today.  Heard a little squeak earlier, loaded the grease gun and gonna do a little maintenance before I head home for dinner.  

Then:  Go work with your 4-H calves. 

Now:  John is standing on the back of his calf and trying to step over onto another one.  Knowing him, I'm sure he has a goal of walking across his pen of calves without ever touching the ground. 

Then:  Stay back from that fire!  HOT, HOT!

Now:  Kiddo, light your stick, start a line and pay some mind when you drive across this pasture.  

Then:  Mom! Slow down, I see a calf out!

Now:  Hey, Mom, I'm gonna finish up my schoolwork and go fix some fence this afternoon.  Some calves are getting out on the 40 and they are a bunch of prrrrrretty ornery cattle.  (Whew, close one kiddo.  Nice save and thanks for not cussing.)

Then:  Momma, this is broke!

Now:  Hey, Mom, I notice there was a loose board on the swing set so I took your drill, switched the batteries, stole a few bits, screws and a ladder and fixed things.  Put most of it back.  

Then:  Momma, can you come shoot this racoon I trapped?  

Now:  Hey, Mom, I know we were gone a while.  I went to check traps and turns out I didn't secure the trap well enough to the post and he ran into a tree and got caught.  We went back to the shop, got a ladder, went back to the tree, got the trap loose, drove back to the shop, used the winch and a come-a-long to pull the lever on the trap apart.  Didn't want to bother you.  

I remember two years ago my husband and I were talking about welding on a set of pens but knew we needed to hook onto the welding trailer before we could do anything else.  Thirty minutes later I saw a feed pickup and welder parked in the middle of the drive and wondered how it got there.  Turns out the 7 and 9 year olds heard us talking and wanted to be of help.  

What we're learning, slowly but surely, is that someday you might make some decent help out of your littles.  The secret is surviving..... both you and them!