How to Handle a Cow

Today a cow got in my way—not in a barnyard, nor on a country road. In a manuscript that was e-mailed to me for editing, a drawing of a cow appeared unexpectedly. Because of past experiences, I wondered if the document had been scanned into a computer instead of typed, which can cause all kinds of formatting frustrations. But perhaps that was not the case; maybe that cow had ambled onto the page in another way. I needed to ask.
 
The publisher informed me that the manuscript’s author had inserted the cow drawing, which meant that the text had been typed after all—what a relief!
 
In another story, a family needed a barn built—winter was a-coming. These newcomers knew only a few folks in the area, but the man mentioned his plight to the nearest neighbor who happened to know plenty of people. He spread the word. On barn-building day, many wagons rumbled up the hill to the rescue.
 
Whether we need a cow question answered or a barn built, let’s be willing to ask others for help—especially the Lord, who knows exactly what we need.

The Price of a Slice 

of Humble Pie

“Today’s senior special is maple-glazed meat loaf, mashed potatoes, coffee or soda, plus a slice of pie. Anyone can order that meal, but for you two ladies, each item would be half off the menu price.”
 
“That dinner sounds delicious!” Valerie beamed at the young waitress. “I think my sister and I will be ready to order in a few minutes.” The waitress nodded and dashed off to serve some customers across the room.
 
Lisa grimaced. “Now why did she assume that we’re seniors? According to the menu, we’re still several years away from this diner’s discount.”
 
Valerie chuckled. “I’m sure it’s my fault. With all this white hair of mine, I’ve been mistaken for a senior citizen several times. But you know, I consider it a blessing; looking like a grandma lends itself to humility. And shouldn’t that be our Christian disposition at every age?”
 
Grinning, Lisa tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear. “You are right. Often I’ve been offended by careless comments, but I see your point. If hurtful words can be used by the Lord to humble me, then bring on the maple-glazed meat loaf and slice of pie—even though we’ll have to pay the full price.”

Providence, Pork, and Pawpaws

Cyrus trudged along the road, praying desperately. He needed food for his family—and fast. But darkness began to steal over the stony land, and he knew that no one lived in the only nearby house. He looked up to heaven, wondering what to do next. Suddenly He glimpsed a speck of lantern light in the direction of that abandoned place—the one he had gone by several times during the past few days as he searched for work. He found faint wagon tracks leading to the light. He followed them, a glimmer of hope in his heart.
 
A family of three stood outdoors near the little log house. Cyrus stared, not knowing how to express his predicament. Finally the man greeted him in a guarded yet friendly tone. Cyrus mentioned his need for work, but the man seemed unable to help, pointing out that they had just spent all the money they had to buy the small farm. Then Cyrus explained how his wife and children hadn’t had a proper meal in three days, how he could not ask his tired horses to go another step. His voice trailed off. For a time, the other man said nothing, but finally he spoke. He said to return at daybreak with an ax, if he had one; he supposed the two of them could cut wood to sell in town.
 
The man had given him a hunk of salt pork and a tin pail of cornmeal; Cyrus fairly flew back to his family in the next hollow. To their late supper, his wife added a pile of pawpaws—wild fruit she had found that day. God had abundantly provided food and work; Cyrus gave thanks for the meal with a grateful heart.

Someone Else’s Slug

Long-haired cats can easily collect debris in their fur. While holding one of our cats, my fingers found a spot of matted fur. I handed the cat to my youngest and proceeded to carefully separate the strands, which seemed to be sticky with sap. Finally, I held out the slightly slimy clump. My daughter calmly announced, “That’s a slug.”

You never heard such howling and carrying on. But, oh, to think that I had handled a slug without the appropriate horror, without the well-deserved disgust! I had needed somebody else to point out the problem before I could provide the proper response.

Sometimes we need someone else’s help to discover what ought to be disposed of in our lives. Others can often identify what needs to change; we may be oblivious to some of our faults. Of course, people can be wrong at times, yet a wise person will at least consider what has been said. And an even wiser person will do something about it if it turns out to be true. God can grant such wisdom; He can bring lasting change to a humble heart.

Ladybug Love

The budding naturalist informed me that these pesky insects are actually Asian lady beetles—I call them ladybugs. The little storyteller decided to give them each the same name: Herbie. No matter what you call them, they seem to enjoy spending time with me.
 
Sometimes I hear tiny wings flying around the bedroom light fixture; ladybugs occasionally crawl on me and my things. Friday morning I discovered a ladybug in my sock; thankfully, I had yet to don said sock. I shook it out to no avail, upsetting her so much that she shared a scent that smelled something like grass and gasoline.
 
How do I know these little ladies love me? They seek me out to spend time with me. How does the Lord know that we love Him? We regularly read His Word and pray, striving to live in the light.