To My Farmer and to Yours
Written for my farmer years ago. May it now be in honor of yours. Roots grow deep as the heart of the farmer lingers deeper still.
Earth trodden soil layered in animal waste finds footing for the farmer. Knee high boots are rubber stamped with the proof of—as there is no time like the present to work the current of cattle coming through the gate.
Windy the day is, overcast and drizzly as the scent of the natural drifts across yard. The breeze sends chills as I watch from second floor window cracked wide. Sights and sounds dance upward as the clamor below hits notes beating out the rhythm of farm life. In low tones, the farmer speaks. “Go on—go on.” And into the shoot the cattle lunge one by one.
The farmer isn’t a high-roller. He merely rolls with a solid foundation doing the basics well. His steps are planned. Methodical and intentional they are. That is how he succeeds at what he does, and that is how he helps others succeed.
On his day off, the farmer takes no time off for the land must be tended, the feed filled, a fence mended, and later will tend to a meeting where wise men gather late into the evening. Thus, the farmer gathers. He will gather himself and go off to pray.
There’s a ruckus outside the window. The cattle being worked are not happy to be contained in the container. They are suspicious. They do not understand, and they resist. It would be easier if they would cooperate. Their master wants good things for them, but they do not trust. The farmer sees the big picture, the cattle do not.
The master knows their needs, and there is a system that works. He is the gatekeeper. In a blink of an eye, they are in and out of the shoot if they cooperate. If they do not, it’s a long and much more painful process.
As the final eight are rounded up, the farmer climbs over, in, and through the pen to make sure the cattle are secure. Literally, his life is on the line. That is what it looks like from where I watch as he tends his cattle with due diligence.
Like a shepherd caring for his flock, he watches over. He takes his rod into the herd to guide them safely. He coaxes once more. “Come on—come on.”
It is noted that some listen, and some do not. And, so it goes. Those who listen are quickly released and able to run in freedom to green pastures that await. The farmer is weary. The farmer’s wife can see. Sacred it is to watch on.
“Your rod and Your staff they comfort me” as does the rod of the farmer (Psalm 23:4). It guides. It protects. It is a loving rod directing that which he is called to tend. Amen.
Kathleen Kjolhaug
This article was first published in Theology in the Trenches, a column written by Kathleen Kjolhaug. Posted with permission. Read more articles on her blog, Theology in the Trenches.
