prayer – As Far As The Eye Can See

A Dramatic Day

(This post was started 10 days ago, references to time might be a bit confusing.)

Yesterday was a big one. A big day. We were moving cows again. Two herds that had been moved from their summer spots to a shared fall pasture were on their way home to their winter home. It was a big group and we had a good sized crew working with us.

As the day started for me I had a bit of ease. I puttered around the kitchen, made some to-go breakfasts for the start up crew, drank some coffee and put alot of thought to my lists for the day. Before the work began in earnest I had the feeling that I wanted to go back to bed and pray. That is not exactly usual for me. I have struggled with prayer my whole life. Lately I think about this, if prayer is about nurturing a relationship with God than I should actually talk to God like a friend, not like someone I am trying to convince to do something. So I find myself pondering my longings and I talk to God about that. On chase days I have so many worries that brew below the surface. My main worry is that someone will get hurt. I also want for people to have a good time and to not suffer. Between the horses, cows, weather and other things there are so many factors that influence every chase day. So I talked to God about my longing for safety. However, in those moments I had to admit to myself that growth comes through challenge, we are not promised a rose garden and I wondered why I and we should be spared trouble when others suffer so greatly. It got a bit serious. I had to back up my request and just say, whatever goes down today God, my desire is that you are walking with us.

It was a day that had its tricky moments but I believe my prayer was heard.

As the kitchen boss I was helped in two big ways. The first is that Friday night Russ and Morgan made a triple batch of chili. Russ thought that would feed 24 people but I knew better so lunch was well along but not totally done when the chili was in the fridge the night before. Russ is very particular about chili, has taken pride in showing Morgan how to make it and I think was genuinely happy to give me support. So the kitchen was a bit of a busy place Friday as I cooked supper while they did their thing. No cross words were heard but I was having a bit of an issue with my turf being shared. I did appreciate all that food ready for the next day I’ll tell you.

The other huge thing is that I had a hard working helper. My 2nd cousin Lisa arrived Friday from Regina. I always knew I was a family person but it becomes clearer in the moments like this, as we worked side by side I said, “Lisa, what would our Grandmas think if they could see us now?” Our grandmas were sisters and we agreed they would delight in the connection that remains after all the years. Lisa stepped in to help whereever she detected a hand was needed. Her presence eased the drama that was stirred up in me as Saturday unfolded.

The first drama was what many readers will already be aware of, that one of our crew was bucked off and his horse escaped. I sense the western nature of how all that unfolded would make a good blog post of its own. I know few details except Morgan tried his hardest to run that horse down, at one point Morgan was on the ground and a part of his tack, the breast strap got broken. I became aware of it all when Russell called. He asked me to sit down immediately and make a facebook post and tag everyone we know, alerting folks to the presence of a run away horse in the midst of a very foggy morning.

As I sat and did this posting Lisa worked away in the kitchen keeping the chicken stew preparations going, monitoring bread baking and just basically being a whole extra brain on the job when mine was absent. I needed that. Once the post was made there was really nothing that we could do to help that situation so we buckled down to work. It was shortly after this that Gina called. She was in a bit of trouble. She had been at an audition outside of Toronto, she had borrowed our friends’ car to get there, she was at a gas station enroute home, reporting in that the car wouldn’t start. From one perpsective this was not a dramatic situation, noone was hurt, there was no damage that was of Gina’s doing, she had already had the audition and was not short of time to get anywhere. But somehow, it held so much drama. There was the, “my kids needs me and I am 2500km away from her” inner tension in me. There was the dawning realization in Gina that her mother and father had no magic solution to get her out of this. There was that terribly uncomfortable dynamic that Gina was driving a borrowed car, making a breakdown even more awkward than it already is. There was the added dimension that I couldn’t stop what I was doing, not really, I had a whole crew of people to feed and not keep waiting. I was therefore scanning my packing list as we talked, collecting the various things we need and making a start at being ready to roll out. However, Gina was getting more upset not less, as the difficulty of the situation became clearer and clearer. She was not able to get ahold of our friends to get their advice or wishes for what to do with the car. I was brainstorming all the people we knew in Toronto that might be able to help. We were assessing their locations in proximity to her. We were discussing the merit of her calling an old boyfriend for help. Her phone battery was a little low and we figured out that Uber and Lyft didn’t cover where she was. It was starting to feel overwhelming. Then Lisa (who helps administer a bussing company in Regina) had a thought, she suggested Gina do a certain something with the gear shift and voila, the car started immediately. Gina’s response was like it was Christmas all over again, she declared that Lisa is her hero of the day. What a wave of relief swept through our call. Before hanging up so that we could get back to work we learned that the horse stunt work company that had seen Gina do her stuff were very happy, and spoke like her involvement in their event next May is a forgone conclusion. They also invited her back to ride horses anytime. Just a bit of drama had unfolded! Gina forged alot of new territory yesterday and we along with her.

Russ called to report that the crew was doing well, moving fast and

Well, this is as far as I got before I had to stop and 10 days later I am not sure what more I was going to say about that day. Bear with me if things are a bit vague.

Lisa and I got lunch delivered pretty much perfectly on time, although the crew, despite the earlier shenanigans, was running early. We arrived to find a very chilled crew. The earlier fog, with the moisture it brought, in combination with the lack of promised sun and high wind blowing right against everyone made things quite uncomfortable. Our menu was appreciated. It was part way through serving that we realized the cost of getting interrupted by Gina’s phone call. I had not finished counting and packing the cups we needed for both coffee and chili. We had lots, but not enough. When that dawned on us we had a saving grace. Russell’s chili is very thick, that is part of what defines it, he told Lisa that if I tried to add water to it in the morning it was her job to stop me. I didn’t even try or think about it! That thick chili was served directly onto the plates we passed out for holding cups and spoons and bread and stuff. It got cold fast but it was served and there were cups for coffee.

Cows tend to move well when moving into the wind, it refreshes them I think, and so the crew had the cows home and into the gate well before sunset. Lisa and I had to hustle to get supper ready and some extra silliness ready. It was the tenth birthday of our dogs Bingo and Maddie and coming up in a week was Coffee’s birthday. Russell had insisted we have a celebration. We had bought decorations, Lisa made ground beef cupcakes for the dogs and decorated them with mashed potatoes, bacon bits and cheese sticks. We sang them happy birthday, crowned them as birthday princesses and ate cake while they ate their cupcakes. It was fun! Those dogs are a real source of light in our days, it felt great to celebrate them.

As we ate there were stories shared of the day. Some details about the buck off got a little clearer, the fact that the rider was very sore also got clearer. Through the week details have been shared so that I understand even better what happened. Russell is convinced that a cougar or something like it was in the swamp beside the road. Russ says they smell strong and the horses detected it. Gary’s horse went absolutely crazy after sensing it, the “buck off” was among the most spectacular seen at our ranch. The horse then charged into the herd, straight into a cow which knocked another rider off her horse. She was okay. Russell’s horse was spooked but recovered, Russ did not get bucked off. After running what looks like 12 or more miles the horse was cornered and held at the feedlot north of the Martens ranch near Alameda. Paige held it there until Gary and Mike Hubbard could get there and Gary was able to get near and secure it. Gary saddled it later and rejoined the crew, the horse did not look very tired. Incredible.

It was a hard day. My initial hope to have God walk with us through all it held……well….how do you measure whether such a prayer was answered or not? There was drama, there was injury, there was stress. But we make the choice to put ourselves in challenging and potentially dangerous situations, in situations where no outcome is guaranteed. My faith tells me that God is near. I see it. It was in the instinct to give that was brought to life in so many people, in my friend Tanya who lent Gina the car, Lisa giving me her whole weekend to lend a hand, the Co-op grocery clerk I didn’t know who asked me while I was shopping after lunch, if the horse had been found. She told me she had used part of her lunch break to go look for it, “I have horses” she said to explain her care for a situation that didn’t affect her life at all. The instinct to give was in the whole crew who suffered through cold and wind for us and our cows. Thats humbling. There were so many who shared info about the stray horses location and Paige’s time and energy given to protect the horse and ease our challenge. Its all evidence of God’s Spirit on the loose, as fast and far reaching as that horse. But there is more, I had alot to hold onto that day, alot of needs to meet, alot to be calm for, and I was. It was in part because of the great help I had and in part because I was calm. I was calm for a reason that I can’t explain. I have to go with “I was not alone.”

So anyways, from the bad smell of a cougar to pondering about prayer. I am done writing. It was quite a day. Here are pictures you might enjoy.

Laurie riding in the early morning fog.

David and Pat……the only cowboys in sight…..that I can see.

Jen and Cinder……a happy reunion of rider and horse.

I would love to know what both Laurie and Braylee were thinking in this moment.

The sun came out for a while after lunch. There are some bright smiles here too as Braylee and Lacee keep pushing ahead with the herd.

Having walked about 18 miles the herd is within steps of the gate here.

And in they go. This is a cool sight from our living room windows.

This is Lisa in the background. It is the only picture I have of her from the weekend. This fact does not honor the amount of support she provided. I took this picture to send to Braylee’s pal, our girl Gina.

A close-up of the dogs birthday cupcake.

Birthday cake for the humans.

Russ helped the dogs blow out their candles.

Bingo was quite intrigued.

The scene at lunch.

Having taken a chilling turn watching over the herd while most of the cowboys were getting their lunch, Jim rides in to camp.

Miles and I at the lunch station.

Coffee was essential on this chilly day. Bill smiled readily for the picture.

Everyone has been enjoying spending more time on the trail with Pat’s daughter Emory. She is doing great.

Hugs have the added benefit of sharing warmth. Its so great to see the friendships on the trail.

Pat and Jen are still smiling despite the weather conditions.

With no time to spare I was blowing up balloons and moving chairs around at the same time, prepping for the supper scene. I had no idea where I was going to put these balloons in the absence of helium. I was quite thrilled with myself when I found a spot for them in the tree (only one popped.)

It was Lisa’s idea to hang this banner in this spot. Looked perfect to me. Another thing she just took care of.

Tanya sent me this picture after Gina arrived back at her place with the car. Everything really was okay! (Even better yet, we now know that audition is looking to lead to three different opportunities, and she is definitely booked in to be a “horseback champion” for the medieval tournament in May. )

Gary back on his horse after the two were reunited. The gratitude that is part of this picture is very real.

A different week

We are having a different week around here and that calls for a different kind of week in review post.

When the kids were really small we fell into a pattern that has continued to this day. That pattern is about days of the week and saying grace. At the table, “grace” is another word for a prayer of thanks that gets said before the meal. As an ordained minister I often get called upon to offer the grace at meals outside our home. I would rather not be the expert on call regarding this, not when we all have the ability to speak and thoughts in our heads. Most especially not when in God’s heart noone’s word matters more than another. (In our way of understanding). So, one inspired day the plan emerged that the day of the week that one of us was born would be our day to be responsible for grace.

Morgan was born on a Monday, so that is his day to decide if he will say grace himself, delegate the leadership to another, or lead in a spoken or sung prayer that we all join in. Most times Morgan says it himself, it is very short and to the point, and it usually includes the word “awesome.” He used to give thanks for awesome food but these days usually doesn’t mention the food and gives thanks for the work that got done that day. His sincerity is there so while I might rib him about not caring about the food, I am just glad it goes as well as it does.

So Monday is Morgan’s day. What is going on in Morgan’s life these days and how did it get started? Morgan is knee deep in cowboy realities. On Monday this week I helped him with roping practice by using my car to pull his roping dummy around the back area. (The picture below). He helped at two different horse sales this week and has done lots of hours on his horse looking after our herd. We has been given alot of responsibility this week and has carried it well.

So that is how this week went for Morgan, now a little flashback to how it all got started.

When Morgan was about eight months old Russ took him on his saddle for the tail end of a ride up the road to the ranch, Russ and a crew were chasing horses home. Russ figures that maybe the ranch boss (his Dad) had been over optimistic about what could get done in a day and this chase was therefore ending in the dark. There is a dip in the road just west of our place and it was therefore with some horror that Russell realized that a big oil tanker was coming fast towards them. He knew that driver would never see a herd of black Percheron horses in the dark, with the dip in the road making them invisible to the trucker. He therefore gripped Morgan tightly and galloped to the front where he could get the drivers attention and get him to slow down. Morgan didn’t cry but seemed exhilerated Russ says.

Tuesday is Gina’s day. She was born at 2:19am on a Tuesday. My memory of having Gina around the table is that she preferred the sung graces. We have one called “The Brown Cow”, I believe she preferred that one because of some humor that Russ injected into it. There is a line, “thank the pig for the bacon on the grill,” one day he told the kids we should always check the road for runaway pigs at that line, so when we are feeling up to it even yet there is a little extra action at that point. Anyways, on Gina’s day we can report in that she is delighting in her horses she is working with. She sent this picture this week. She and another staff had clipped this horse’s legs and Gina took a picture of Oedsen and Rachel. Afterwards he was intent on looking at the picture. I wonder what was going through Gina’s head as she offered her phone to show show him the picture. It is really making her smile.

This is an old picture of Gina but captures what is on her mind these days. She has been staying late at work and watching the knights doing sword fighting practice. This picture was taken at school in Victoria. She loves stage combat, and especially sword work.

How did all this get started?

Gina was riding solo and defying gravity from an early age. Often we would put Abba singing “Dancing Queen” on in the background and she would jolly jump with such happiness.

Wednesday is Russell’s day. He was born on a Thursday but back when we got the prayer schedule figured out he had Lion’s Club meetings at supper time every 2nd week. I thought I was born on a Thursday, (I was wrong), so I took Thursday and Russ took Wednesday and it has stayed that way to this day. Russ is always very grateful in his prayers, sometimes goofy and does the best job of any of us of thinking about people that can’t be with us.

These days Russ is thinking about cow chase work quite a bit. It is a fairly big deal to be organized for the six weeks that are ahead. Liz Griffin took this picture of Russ on the trail last year. The background behind this picture is that he has co-ordinated a multitude of pieces to be working in a pretty fine tuned manner.

What did all this look like almost 30 years ago?

Russell’s friend Lee took this picture. I think this illustrates pretty well how things were in the earlier part of Russell’s life with horses. It was a pretty wild situation for a long time and from the stories I have heard it seemed Russ really enjoyed that. This particular moment is described by Russ like this, “this is Comanche who turned out to be one of my best horses, I still dream about him and when I get to heaven this is the horse I want to ride. In this picture I was training him, he was in the midst of several bucks and I had not yet landed back in the saddle.”

Thursday is my assigned day for prayer at meals. It turns out that I was born on a Tuesday, already Gina’s day, so mistakenly assigning myself Thursday works okay. I almost always make up a fresh prayer, based on what the action is that day and the blessings we have known. I always says at the end, “may this food strengthen us to be people of love and peace in your world,” or something close to that. It feels important to me. Anyways, reporting in on my day of the week, my life is pretty much revolving around stories these days. More specifically, words. More specifically, getting progress made on the book I am writing. That has meant alot of weaving. Bringing history, words, hopes, and new information altogether. The book is about ranching in relationship to the world. It uses Liz Griffin’s photographs for great illustration of key points. Today I learned that 1% of the world’s population does the work that feeds the other 99%. We are part of that 1%. That feels really meaningful. It will find its way into the book. I don’t have a picture of me at my computer lately. But these words tell you how its going. I do have access to some old pictures that illumine how it all started.

This fuzzy picture doesn’t surprise me to see. I have loved the words in books for as long as I can remember. I believe I was two in this picture.

This picture from a few years later catches me doing one of my favorite things in my childhood, playing with our Fisher Price toys. I always loved the chance to set the stage for stories to unfold.

Friday is the day of the week that Russell and I got married. So that is our day to pray, we pretty casually, on the spot, figure out who is up for making prayer happen on this day, but its one of us, because this is an us day.

And what did it look like when it was all getting started? Like this…..we went to Brandon on one of our first dates, we were in search of some Tim Horton’s coffee and Estevan didn’t have any in 1999. Russ showed me the swinging bridge at Souris on the way home. One of us had a camera and got these moments in time.

It seems kind’ve appropriate that I was wearing Bar MW yellow on this day.

Jilly was born at noon hour on a Saturday so she is the boss of prayer on Saturdays. Jill’s life is very touched by music these days, as it has been for most of her life. She most often chooses a sung prayer for grace. This week she has been learning the music necessary to be part of the vocal chorus for the next Sterling Production in Regina. (Rocky Horror Picture Show). She will be auditioning soon for the Christmas musical. She is relieving her brain of all the words and choreography she learned for Seussical and moving on. She sent us this picture of herself and one of her people after the Seussical shows.

How did it all start? With a passion for fun outfits, costumes, movies, musical theatre, dance and an interest in piano, cello, guitar, fiddle and singing that has never gone very far from her heart.

By Sunday everyone but Buster the cat and Ron our hired man have had a turn so we often will use silent prayer. We each just say what is on our minds, in the quiet of our thoughts. I like that.

Is there a picture to go with that? Maybe this one?

It is amazing to think about this table, the weeks that have passed that saw the five of us pulling up a chair day after day, the sights that Buster has seen, and those that have pulled up a chair to join us. Very often some of the first words they heard at our table were “whose day is it?” I suppose I will spend the rest of my life thinking of Monday, Tuesday and Saturday as my kids’ special days. Perhaps the biggest grace in my life has been the chance to walk their journey’s with them.

Celtic Solidarity?

Preamble: I am struggling to get this post written and posted. I started it and almost finished it a week ago, so the contents might seem odd, timewise. I am sitting in a waiting room now, Russ is getting his eyes tested and new glasses ordered. Here is what I have ……

After Hurricane Fiona left Nova Scotia we had lots of messages go back and forth with our friends and family there. Our hearts were so heavy for them. I had the cell number for one of the family that I only just met for the first time in our recent trip. Despite not feeling super connected I wanted to check in. I knew that Gary was a very busy man with lots on his plate but I risked bugging him. It turned out that Gary is very generous with words and stories and we have been texting back and forth almost every day. His messages have given me goose bumps as he has detailed how the neighbors are looking out for each other. His family seems to have an especially tender spot for the widows who need help with generators and dealing with their isolation. It has inspired me and warmed my heart. He has also sent me many photos, including this picture of one of the blueberry fields in autumn. I find it so gorgeous.

I find one of the hard parts of having my people going through hard things is the powerless feeling I often have as they struggle. Especially when the distance between us means we can be of no practical assistance. We simply sit here and wonder and imagine what it’s like. We pray too, for their strength and their peace amid everything. In some situations, like this one, that seems to be the extent of what we can do.

I think this is why a few days ago I got a somewhat silly notion in my head. I looked at the earrings I was wearing, I had put them on the last full day we were in Nova Scotia. Russ had bought them for me at the Halifax Citadel gift shop. As I looked in the mirror I thought to myself, “its time to change your earrings Kathy!” But even as I considered that something in me was already resisting it. I got thinking, “I am not taking these off until our people all have their power back on.” Well, Monday morning the message finally came in from Gary, a New Brunswick power man had come in their yard and said, “you can turn your generator off.” (Can you just imagine how momentous those words would sound after 9+ days without power?) The washing machine was put to use almost immediately Gary told me. Later that day standing in front of the mirror I contemplated that with the Fentons, the Mannings, and all 3 Brown homes now back on it was time to change my earrings. But then figured, “no, I am not ready, not yet, my people have power but many still do not.” I decided then that I would keep them on until every person in Nova Scotia has their power back. The first thing Gary told me yesterday morning is that 8000 homes in Pictou and Colchester counties are still without. I will be wearing my Celtic knot earrings for a while yet it seems.

This is all stupid, in a way. Maybe quite boring as the main subject of a blog post. But something tells me there is something here.

Do my actions illumine just how very uncomfortable I am when I feel powerless to make a difference? Yes. Absolutely true about me. Is this common for humans? I think so.

Do my actions make any difference? No. There is no way my earring choice shifts anything for anyone.

But maybe it’s an act of solidarity. Maybe, when I really analyze the crap out of this, it says “I can’t help you, but if you are dealing with limits I can too.”

Maybe by wearing the earrings bought in Nova Scotia, representing a piece of their Celtic heritage, I am carrying a piece of them on me at all times, maybe thats a tiny form of solidarity.

Maybe it’s a reflection of the wisdom that actions speak louder than words. Maybe the wearing of the earrings and the pondering that goes with that is a form of prayer. I think about the Holy Spirit quite a bit lately. I think about how the Spirit might serve as a courier, taking the love and courage and peace I have to share, from me to those I pray for. (I then trust that God is refilling me so that I have enough for myself and more to share with others.)

That’s all I got written until today….a week later. If my understanding of the Nova Scotia Power Map is correct there are still some without power. I am still wearing the earrings.

If you look it up on Google you will find that the Celtic knot (the symbol used for my earrings) takes on many forms. It has various meanings.

One of its characteristics is that while a Celtic knot may look like it has distinct sections or parts, in fact it is made with one single strand that weaves back through itself and is not tightened, or in other words, is held loosely, it has no beginning and no end.

I really love the symbolism of this. It is a visual reminder of the connection that exists between us and the unique forms our friend and family groups take. The reality of knots that are not tight says something important too I think. Obviously sometimes tight knots are important, I am a rancher, I see this regularly. But the tie that binds friends and family together, across vast distances and through hard times can be held gently, can be a means for our prayers of love, mercy, courage and strength to flow freely.

As I wear these earrings in the days and years ahead they will be a reminder of our trip. They have become more. I am so grateful for our Nova Scotia history, our Brown family there, our Fenton and Manning friends, and the invisible and gently woven strand that connects us to them. In these post hurricane days my earrings have become a testament to love and a reminder to pray.

Moments With Us

This morning I was drinking coffee and scrolling Facebook. We were up a bit early so that Russ could get some chores done before we headed to Estevan. Russ, Morgan and I were registered to attend a Beef Summit hosted by Co-op Agro. We were heading in to learn more about forage, about what we grow to feed our cows. But first, I had a warm cup of coffee to sip, a creamy one with a whipped up surface, thanks to Russ and his special recipe. He makes me a coffee and delivers it to our room every morning and it allows me a very gentle start to the day. I appreciate it alot. While sipping away I read a story that came across my newsfeed, posted in a group I belong to, there are 324,000 members of this group and on its pages I found a story featuring my home city and a man I had gone to school with. It was quite the thing to stumble across. My newsfeed also alerted me to the invasion of the Ukraine and very quickly the morning felt far beyond the ordinary.

We were late leaving after chores didn’t go perfectly, (I mean they rarely do when its -30 out), we had a good visit in the car. We talked about things we had seen on Facebook in the last day or so. Russell had seen a post by a friend defending the use of picture filters that allow us to look different than we are in person. He asked me what I think. That was an interesting conversation. The thing about the filters is that they allow a more polished or perfect image, but in the end you still have to go out in the world as you are. I have never really understood it. They make me kind’ve sad, because while I celebrate the chance for people to play with their image and perk up their look, I think the absolute ideal scenario would be to experience self acceptance and have peace with where you are at. If you use filters to make yourself more acceptable to yourself, don’t you deep down know that it isn’t the truth? Doesn’t that just give the voices in our heads fuel to say “you aren’t really pretty.” I find the self critical voice in my head needs no extra ammunition. The comments I made reminded Russell of a movie he loves. He said, “Kathy, you need to watch a movie for the ultimate monologue that sounds like what you just said. Kevin Costner, in The Guardian, is a coast guard rescue guy and he goes into a bar and the woman bartending is awesome, she tells him about how she got all her wrinkles, you gotta hear it.” Then he pulled off the highway for a minute, before he got out I picked up my phone. He could tell what I was up to. “Don’t start playing the clip if you find it before I get back,” he said. I couldn’t find the clip but I found the quote and here it goes

“Hell, I’ve always been old, Ben. You know what though? I don’t mind. I mean, if my muscles ache it’s cause I’ve used ’em. It’s hard for me to walk up them steps now cause I walked up ’em every night to lay next to a man who loved me. I got a few wrinkles here and there, but I’ve laid under a thousand skies on sunny days. I look and feel this way, well, cause I drank and I smoked, I lived and I loved, danced, sang, sweat and screwed my way through a pretty damn good life. Gettin old ain’t bad man; gettting old – that’s earned”

The conversation made me feel a little bit better. I posted a picture of Morgan and I earlier this week, when he was a baby, it was so obvious that I have aged in the fifteen years since it was taken. After this conversation with Russ I had a fresh take on how to feel about the difference the years have brought. I thought to myself, if this is the price I pay for the experience of raising these kids and living my unique life, I will pay it. We are here to live, not play a game about tricking time.

We kept rolling down the highway. I got to tell Russ about the post I had discovered earlier in the morning. How it led me to look up the profile of the woman who wrote the story, how I had read another story on her post that I found touching. A woman teaching at a school in the far north received terrible news moments before her students arrived for the day. When they arrived they surrounded her in a circle as she told of her loss. The cultural differences, the fact of suicide, the fact she was still a new teacher to them did not deter them from drawing near. Their culture and their values meant a response of care and compassion. Russ fought back his tears as we approached our turn off to get to our seminars. We needed to hear about cultural divides being bridged for the sake of compassion. We needed to hear about solidarity in the face of suffering.

We found our way to the conference room at the Days Inn where we would spend the day. We were late and that meant the only empty table was front and center. The presenters could see every line on my face! Not that the lines mattered, just drawing the earlier story into the current one! The distance mattered. I was not super keen about attending the event, they can get boring and often there is much discussed that I just can’t get a hold on. My background in agriculture is very sketchy and that means a million facts swim around and I get overwhelmed. So in my head I was thinking, “when it gets to be too much I can zone out, I will work on the sermon for Sunday.” However, when you are 12 feet from the presenter zoning out is not an option. I felt guilty for answering text messages let alone writing a sermon, in my head or otherwise. I was on. I was listening. I took notes to keep myself engaged. And I learned! I learned fact stuff like our next planting of forage seed might best be accompanied by a rye grass called “Big Bang” versus the oats we have planted for cover crop before. Exciting right!?!? But I also learned in a bigger way that alot of the professionals working in the industry really want to help us producers. Russ and I both went away saying, “we will call that guy Ken anytime, he was so approachable.”

At one point I caught myself being a big faker. A man from Brett Young Forage was speaking, he was really easy to listen to and follow along with and I was with him. He made comment about clover that went something like this, “you want to be really careful, sweet clover and white clover are different” and he looked to us listeners to affirm that with him, or so it seemed to me. There I was, wanting to give the message that I was following, and I found myself nodding my head like a true believer. That was immediately followed by a sharp awareness that I was faking it and I am not sure why. I don’t know a ding dang thing about clover, I had no business nodding about anything. I caught myself with a question I will never know the answer to, “who would I be if I actually knew this?” Who are the women that sit around conference tables well versed in the details of forage? What impression was I giving this man about who I am and what my story might hold? Why is it so hard to let yourself be known as a beginner?

At some point in the day I noted how natural it felt for the three of us to roll into the seminar. In fact, it was a first. Russ loves going to education events and has taken me to many, so truly, I am less of a beginner than I used to be. But this was the first time that Morgan joined us. With school on break for a week it was an option that he seemed happy to agree to. So the number of brains mulling over the details of ranching at the Bar MW is definitely expanding. Today was a first.

Morgan drove us home from Estevan, this was my view from the backseat.

As the day winds down, with knowledge that so much is wrong in the Ukraine and that could spread, I find myself thinking about what I know and what I don’t know. I told the family at supper, I think I maybe know about .4% of the situation in Ukraine, if that. I don’t know about clover. I do know that I am loved even though my hair is more grey every day and my wrinkles very real. I know that listening is powerful and it may be one of my superpowers. I don’t know how to stop a war, but I think listening would help. I know it can be scary to be in the backseat going 100km/hr down a winter highway. I know it feels scary to not be in control. I know we all have felt out of control for almost two years. I know I need alot more courage. I know I need to pray. I don’t know how to pray, or that is how it feels. I know that the Bible says that when we don’t have the words to pray, the spirit helps us, and can translate our groans, our sighs and our weeping into prayers. I know I am going to be counting on that. After texts and calls with friends today I know that what makes us rich and powerful is not dollars and force but relationship and wisdom. I know its bedtime and this is enough.

Praying Games

We had a few more of the first calf heifers give birth today. This time it was Pray, Cuddle and Value. This post arises from the cow named Pray and how she shaped my day today.

First a bit about the name. Although I am a minister and Russell is a bible school graduate, we don’t prioritize time to pray together. We never have. We have tried at times, but it hasn’t stuck. Still we put the word “pray” in our list of words that reflect strength for our marriage. The bigger story is that prayer is a part of our life. On any given day either we do it silently and individually and/or we struggle with it and we talk about that struggle (more me than Russell) and we do it, out loud, gathered together, regularly and with heart, at the meal table. This seems to work for us. The truth is I am a minister and I have struggled for my whole adult faith life with prayer. Too many unanswered prayers is the crux of the problem for me and too much injustice for some in this world. This could get super serious and some day maybe it will be good to talk about all this, but for today, just know that we have a Heifer named Pray because we know that prayer is about relationship with God and we know we need that to carry out our lives and our marriage with wholehearted strength and purpose.

So what happened today? Pray had her calf at the far corner of the heifer pasture, in short grass with no bedding near. Russ found her licking off her calf. However by the time his heifer check was done it seemed as though Pray had abandoned her calf. What the heck?!?!? Surprisingly despite a cold early morning and neglect it was not too bad off. Russ got some hay from a nearby feeder, loaded it onto the hood of the jeep and took it over and made a bit of wind shelter/bedding with a good clump of it. Then his morning had challenges and he never got back to check the status of the calf and its relationship with its Mom. He called at 11:30, would I go and have a tour of the heifers and see what was up? Yes. I found that calf right where he told me he had first seen it. Pray was nowhere in sight.

As I checked the rest of the herd I kept a special eye out for Pray. I found her mingling in the midst of a whole group who were grazing and hanging out like teenagers at recess. She looked unconcerned. I said to her, with a sense of double entendre “Pray I expected more of you.” Unsurprisingly this rebuke did not phase her one bit.

After my tour I called Russ and reported in. He asked if I would make a bottle and return to the calf he would dub “little prayer”. I was a bit ticked by this, lunch would be late and I would get nothing else done for the morning, but of course I wasn’t going to say no. When I returned with the bottle I was fortunate to be able to get milk into her, with only a little resistance.

I had never fed a calf a bottle on the open range before, so I could chalk that up as a first. Ideally Pray would have caught wind that I was meddling with her baby and come stampeding over with motherly love flooding her, but nothing like that happened. What did happen is that after only about 1/8^th of a bottle Little Prayer responded to the nourishment and worked at getting up. I witnessed her first faltering steps.

Once up she got tooling around. Her instincts were amazing. She nuzzled up to our Expedition as if it was her Mama. She nuzzled into me, I was sitting on the ground on my knees and my armpit seemed to her like something she should know about. From that vantage point I got more of that bottle into her. It was fun. Still no Pray in sight. I went home and lunch was served only 15 minutes late.

After lunch I was totally enjoying watching a youtube video about how to start seedling plants when Russ called. He needed my help. He was trying to sort out the issue with Pray. I won’t try and explain all the stages of this because honestly I am not totally clear on everything myself. What I do know best I understand after the fact, the initial hurried phone calls did little for me. When Russ called me he was on foot, playing a game with cow and calf which was a combination of tag and follow the leader. He was trying to get them together. I came along just about the time Pray had a change of heart and decided she owned that calf. She did not have a gentle touch. She bellered and danced around that calf and pushed at it, I feared she would hurt it. Russ sat in the jeep with me as this unfolded. I saw raw power in that Mama and it scared me. Pray definitely seemed to be scaring Little Prayer too. Meanwhile, the calf had maybe bonded with Russell and I. In Russell’s words, “I put her to bed for the first time and you fed her for the first time, she feels best with us.” It seemed to be the case.

Russ was using his shepherd hook here, to snag the calf before she hid herself within this group, he marked her back with a cattle marker.

In the dance around the pasture that took place over about 45 minutes, the calf went through the fence to the neighboring pasture 4 times working to escape its overwrought Mother. As Russ went through too, working to get it back in the proper pasture he said, “if that cow comes for me you drive through the fence and get me.” “Like…. drive throououough the fence Russell?” Yes, right through it was the prescription for salvation. That was the first of four times this happened at three difference fence lines and by the fourth I was definitely overwrought too. It was only in the post game analysis that I really understood that for the most part the calf was the one that Russ was trying to disappear from, it just wanted Russ. The cow seemed to mean no harm to him. But I didn’t know that so my stress levels were just crazy by the time I got the phone call with these words, “turn around and go hide behind that hill!” As I got in place the last I saw of Russ he was running through this rounded and somewhat deep large indent in the prairie, with dirt hills on the north side. I was hiding in the jeep behind those hills, Russ appeared, jumped in with me and said “back up, just back up”. He knew the game of tag and follow the leader had become hide and seek with the calf, I didn’t. When we stopped the jeep and watched from a distance there was a bit of hope in the air. I wasn’t doing so well though. I let myself acknowledge that I have post traumatic shock after the year of so many things going wrong and quite simply if Russ got hurt I would be wrecked. So after Russ said, “back up, just back up” and we had come to a stop, I said, “Russ, I am not doing so good,” not entirely holding back my tears. Russ offered to take me back to my truck, I could go home. I didn’t want to abandon him though. Mercifully that was when it seemed like we could let these two figure it out. We had drawn them out to the centre of the pasture, away from fence lines, maybe with some time for the brain to make some connections both of them would realize that they need each other.

I found it ironic that all this happened with our cow named Pray, because in the midst of all these shenanigans my best possibility for help was God. The thing is after seeing some of the big problems in my life not fixed by prayer I come to moments like this so confused, so needful but so confused. What I am working from right now is that prayer is about relationship with God, investing myself in my friendship with God, letting God in and drawing the strength that my friend has to share with me, its not about telling God what to do, but sharing myself. So observing the action at the third fence line, watching the dance with baited breath, I just repeated over and over again what I wanted, letting my friend know what my end goal was, what the need of my heart was, but trying not to be bossy about how it would happen. I want my husband to be safe. I want my animals to be safe. After repeating that several times I got a bit practical. If this circus was going to end it would be because that cow settled into her maternal identity and allowed her calf to feel safe. So I told God how I wanted that for her. This point in my prayer/conversation is about the time I got the call to go hide behind the hill. And then it seemed, that at least for then, things were moving in the right direction. I was so thankful. Sitting here now, its 5:45pm and I have no idea what has happened since. Perhaps no news is good news.

I didn’t mean for this to be so long. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Lets hope the rest of the heifers offer a slightly more straight forward experience. You probably don’t want to read this kind of a exposé arising from the names of some of the heifers yet to calve🙄😬😉.