And the wolf will dwell with the lamb, and the leopard will lie down with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little boy will lead them. Isaiah 11:6 (NASB)
The Bible tells us that in the Millennial Kingdom, members of the animal family will live peaceably with other animals and with humans as well. What a sight that will be to behold. As we listen to the news and learn of senseless violence and hatred and see many of our cities are becoming unlivable, we pray for this time of peace to come quickly. According to Bible prophecy, however, there are many things that must take place between now and then. God, give us the strength to endure. May you find us faithful when you return.
I happened upon an event that made me think of that verse. Cats are, by nature, independent animals. They do their own thing. Dogs are more friendly. Dogs AND cats together are like oil and water or fire and ice. But not all the time. Check out this photo of our cat, Ginger, and our dog, Belle:
It had been raining everyday (Raining cats and dogs, you might say) for two weeks. Belle was miserable out in the pasture so we brought her into the garage after the first day. At first Ginger kept her distance, but she warmed up to Belle, it seems. She and Ginger have struck up a friendship. The canine and feline have put aside their differences and have decided to give peace a chance.
I drive in from work in the afternoon, usually pulling into the driveway around 6 pm. Tricia and I visit for a little bit and then inevitably the question will be brought up, "Do you want to do chores before supper or after supper?" Last night she made chicken fried steak, so we ate first. Then we went out to the barn.
It was a peaceful late afternoon, even if the mosquitoes are out with a vengeance. Our Maker's Acres Family Farm sits on 5 acres. I began to call the cows in. I'm sure the neighbors are not amused. Rosie, Clarabelle, and Elsie were as far away as you can be on five acres. You can see them in the center left of the photo below.
Those girls did not heed my call. No amount of beckoning could convince them to head this way. So, I pulled out the secret weapon. This will get them in. I grabbed the feed bucket and put some sweet feed and a handful of alfalfa on top. The sweet feed smells great and is sticky-sweet with molasses in it. I picked up the plastic bucket, banged on the side of the bucket, and yelled, "C'mon girls, Come eat. Come eat."
Like the bat signal in Gotham City to Batman and Robin, the 'bang on the bucket' trick was successful! You can see them heading my way.
Elsie is in the lead, followed by Rosie, then Clarabelle. They've been out there all day eating in some taller grass, so their bellies are full. They'll sit down tonight and chew their cud.
With anticipation, the girls' steps are sure, their gaze focused. They cannot be distracted now.
We bring them into the barn, feed the momma cows, feed the goat family, check them all out, and then move all of the animals out of the barn except for Agnes, Cupcake and Elsie. They sleep in the barn each night. Rosie and Clarabelle exit the barn. They are always sure to stay right in the gate. Right in the way. Why do they always do this? Rosie will lick Clarabelle's head and ears in an affectionate display.
The chickens slowly make their way back to their roosts in the hen house and the cows and goats sit down on the other side of the barn and chew their cud. Belle, the dog, lays out in a freshly dug hole in the yard (Argg!) and Ginger, the cat, follows us back to the house where she'll try to sneak inside when we open the door.
The sun sets beautifully in the west and we make our way back down the garden path, over the bridge and back inside. Another day done in our little corner of the world.
On Saturday in Late November 2020, we woke up to a beautiful day. We took care of a couple of items on our project list that we've been wanting to knock off the list. Although the weather was beautiful, it was still a little warm with the temperature being 77 degrees. That doesn't exactly seem like fall, but oh well.
Right after lunch we decided to get in the pickup truck and drive out to the farm. It's a 30 minute drive to the farm. We live in the country on our little homestead, but Oberlin, Louisiana is even further in the country. On the way, we stopped off in a small town called Elton. Elton boasts a good little specialty meat market called "Mr. T's." We got some smoked boudin and boudin balls and some root beer and continued on our journey.
Upon arriving at the farm, we filled the water trough for the cows and walked across the pasture to the gully and watched a bunch of striped-head turtles swim in the muddy water. The irrigation well droned on in the background, pumping water to fill the crawfish ponds. It was quiet. We walked through the old pecan orchard that my great-grandfather planted. One of the old pecan trees succumbed to Hurricane Laura.
It lay tragically on its side, uprooted by the strong south winds of the hurricane's fury. I have on my list of things to buy is a good chainsaw. Once I make that purchase, we'll cut the tree up and split the wood for firewood. It'll keep us stocked up for years. Sad, though. These trees stood tall and strong for years and years.
There is another old tree, however, that remains standing - the old live oak tree. It is literally hundreds of years old. I reckon this tree could probably tell some stories about the changes it's seen and storms it has weathered. Its strong limbs stretch out, coming close to the ground and then reach back upward again. Some of the limbs have bark that is smooth like grass. The cows like to rub their backs on the limbs, polishing the bark in the process to a glossy shine.
Benjamin had climbed high up into the tree like I used to do when I was his age and much younger.
The live oak has a hole on one side and has been like this for as long as I can remember. It doesn't appear to have weakened the tree. At one time, I remember, a momma red fox had a den at the base of this tree and raised some little ones.
The cows came running to meet us - all 16 momma cows and 15 calves. They're pretty tame. They were expecting some feed, but we didn't bring any with us. Mom and Dad drove up in Dad's pickup truck. We let the tailgates down and sat down and visited for a long time, waving as people drove by slowly on the country road in front of the old home place. It seemed everyone had the same idea. It was a nice afternoon to relax and not do anything in particular.
As the afternoon faded into late afternoon, the sun cast long shadows across the landscape, taking in the beauty of God's creation made me thankful a full five days prior to Thanksgiving.
I'm thankful for a simple country life - thankful for a place to enjoy the afternoon without Covid, without politics, without stress, without phones ringing - just peace, quiet, and simplicity. My kinda place.
For the past three weeks, there hasn't been much time at all for life on the farm - for me that is. I have a great and supportive family. My wife and sons have pitched in and taken care of business, cleaning up the yard, patching a hole in the barn roof, and taking care of the animals. I was able to leave a little early from work this weekend, and Sunday was the first day that I was able to see Our Maker's Acres Family Farm in the daylight. It was nice.
I went out to the garden and picked a 5 gallon bucket of black-eyed peas and purple-hull peas. Some were ripe for the pickin'. Others were over-ripe and dried, but that's okay. They'll eat just fine. I walked back to the patio and sat down and just gazed at the peaceful surroundings. I looked up in the live oak tree and saw large "widow-maker" branches that had been broken by the 100 mph winds. The limbs broken by violence of nature sat juxtaposed against the peaceful backyard and the enjoyable event that was about to take place.
It was time to shell peas. All you need is time. Some people have automatic pea shellers and there may come a time when old-age and arthritis requires that we get one. For now, shelling peas by hand is just fine. You need a bowl and a bucket to throw the pods in.
Pea shelling is one of those rare things in life in which you get immediate gratification of seeing the fruits of your labors. A full bucket of fresh-picked peas quickly is transformed into a bowl of shelled peas and a bucket of pea pods that will be returned to the earth when we compost.
Watching the peas in the bowl grow in volume is a satisfying event. Often Russ will come sit down with me and shell some. You can observe in the bowl below why Black-eyed peas are called black-eyed peas.
You can tell which peas were dried by their sun-bleached color and which peas were ripe, but not dried, by the green color and plump girth of the peas.
Cowpeas are a crop that seems to thrive in the harshest of conditions. Even in the peak of summer months, they scoff at the heat and drought that assaults them. And they produce peas packed with protein that will feed our family.
Pea shelling is a satisfying exercise that allows you to slow down the hectic, frenetic pace of modern life into a peaceful, slow, but productive endeavor. As your bowl increasingly fills with peas, your stress level is reduced. There's only one thing better than shelling them - eating them. Tricia will put on a pot of rice and in another pot, shell cook the peas with some smoked sausage. If I'm lucky, she'll cook some cornbread to go along with it. It is an easy, but satisfying meal that reminds me of childhood and simplicity and honest country living.
The end of the day comes. Nightfall awaits. Tricia and I sit on the front porch and watch the gloaming of the day. There is peace and quiet. The colors of the sky are painted on a canvas stretched out by God. Nightfall comes. We don't watch the news. We briefly catch glimpses on the Internet of civil unrest and violence in our cities by mobs. Fires, Broken Glass, Shattered Dreams and Lives. Innocent people who had nothing to do with Minneapolis are hurt and killed. It is deeply troubling. When did fellow Americans become enemies?
I'm certainly not smart enough to figure it all out or come up with solutions other than the Golden Rule and to Love One Another. I do know One Who has all the answers, though. One Who was innocent and had His Blood spilled. One Who Loved the world enough to die so that we may live. One Who offers hope, and love, and peace, and an abundant life despite the circumstances. May those who love the darkness come to know the Light.
In keeping in mind the "Peace on Earth - Good will to Men" quote that the angel told the shepherds in the field in the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke, I was reminded (strangely) of a country song from 1994 by Tracy Lawrence called, "If the World Had a Front Porch." The songwriter tells a nostalgic story of memories that he had sitting on the front porch of his home while growing up. I think we can all identify with some of his experiences on his front porch. The activities that he experienced on that front porch helped shaped his life and he submits that there is a simple solution to the chaos, hatred, disagreements, and strife in our world and that would be returning to simpler times and sitting on a front porch. Here is the chorus to emphasize that theory:
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
We'd still have our problems, but we'd all be friends
Treatin' your neighbor like he's your next of kin
Wouldn't be gone like the wind
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
Here is the youtube video that you can hit the arrow and watch Tracy Lawrence sing it and below it, I've placed the lyrics to the song below the video:
It was where my mama sat on that
Old swing with her crochet
It was where Grand Daddy taught me
How to curse and how to pray
It was where we made our own ice cream
Those sultry summer nights
Where the bulldog had her puppies
And us brothers had our fights
There were many nights I'd sit right there
And look out at the stars
To the sound of a distant whippoorwill
Or the hum of a passin' car
It was where I first got up the nerve
To steal me my first kiss
And it was where I learned to play guitar
And pray I had the gift
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
We'd still have our problems, but we'd all be friends
Treatin' your neighbor like he's your next of kin
Wouldn't be gone like the wind
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
Purple hulls and pintos
I've shelled more than my share
As lightnin' bugs and crickets
Danced in the evenin' air
And like a beacon that old yellow bulb
It always led me home
Somehow Mama always knew
Just when to leave it on
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
We'd still have our problems, but we'd all be friends
Treatin' your neighbor like he's your next of kin
Wouldn't be gone like the wind
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
Treating your neighbor like he's your next of kin
Wouldn't be gone with the wind
If the world had a front porch, like we did back then
I really like Tracy Lawrence and his songs. I like simple things and I like nostalgia and can relate to the things he's singing about, so this song is right down my alley. All except for one part: my grandpaw didn't teach me to cuss on the front porch!
Switching gears back to the Christmas season we're in, and circling back to the "Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men" theme that we are talking about, I wanted to delve a little deeper in the song. I certainly don't want to seem all "preachy" and I do have a sense of humor. Although I enjoy the song and the memories it brings back, I don't get my theology from Country songs. I get mine from the Bible.
The Peace on Earth and Good will toward Men will not be achieved by sitting on a front porch, I'm sad to say. The Fall of Man, which occurred in the Book of Genesis caused a deep chasm in the relationship between God and Man. But our benevolent God sent Good will, in the form of His Only Son, Jesus, the Messiah, to reconcile us and restore that lost relationship that sin tore away. Praise God!
But we still should treat our neighbor like he's our next of kin!
