Zeke, Shirley T and Kate... wells of salvation

Zeke died yesterday... my basset hound traveling companion in the Kawasaki mule. He was my loud mouth buddy who could always make me laugh at the same time I was cussing him out for poor behavior. He was an incessant conversationalist who insisted on the last word. He was always glad to see me even if I wasn’t worth seeing at the time. Life at the farm will not be the same without my big footed big mouth friend.
Last night the neighbors gathered to help us lay Zeke to rest. Gary dug the grave with the tractor as Leisa, mama, Jeannie and Dianne stood and wiped away our tears for Zeke. Michael had given him his last mule ride before we placed his body in the ground. Barney paced and sniffed and watched his friend be buried. Junie B hung her head over the fence and listened as we told Zeke stories. The red setting sun bathed us in its glow as Michael gave thanks for the life of our faithful friend.
As we walked up the hill, our new friends Shirley T and Black Nosed Kate were grazing calmly by the stable. They are sweet Jerusalem donkeys with the cross on their backs, mother and daughter, who came to live at the farm on Sunday. Shirley and Kate are getting acquainted with Junie B and that has been a hoot to watch. Junie B got a bloody nose when she got a little pushy with Shirley. Donkeys can kick with both feet and are swift on the draw. Barney had dreams of new chasing buddies but Shirley laid her ears back and headed towards him head down. Barney was the chasee not the chaser. They come to you, nibble you with their lips, stand and wait for you to scratch ears, follow you like dogs just because they like you.
Old friend laid to rest, new friends moving in... life often seems to be a painful joyful juxtaposition of laughter and tears, endings and beginnings. The past few years of my life have been full of these moments in time, overlapping heartshifting soulshaping moments in time that take me to higher ground. Sometimes I feel like I am free floating through space as I wait for the new roots to grow and other times I am instantly planted in rich soil. In a strange way, this time in my spiritual life reminds me of my adolescence. Not only is my body changing but my soul is changing too.
I am detached from many of the roots of my past. I have no children living at home. I am barely involved in the church. I find joy in teaching and watching folks come alive to the possibilities of creation within their souls. I am outdoors a goodly portion of every day and am grateful for the place and time in which I live. Friends who are family surround me in this life and the life yet to come. As I wait and watch for the what lies beyond this bend in the road, like Isaiah I can say, “With joy I will draw water from the wells of salvation.”
Wells of salvation... I am blessed with many of those wells. Pitts calls and we talk about hard bumps in the road. Toni, my psychic friend who somehow always knows just when I need her, calls. Barney comes and lays his head in my lap. Junie B speaks to me when I walk out the back door. My Bible reading gives me words of wisdom and solace for my soul. Neighbors who are true neighbors show up at the door. Worship happens for me in the middle of communion shared with my small group, at dawn watching the sun rise in multicolored glory, at night as the fireflies lightdance in the trees, listening to the Bob Whites call to each other, seeing deer leaping and running up the hills, holding hands with loved ones and praying for a good old dog whose body gave out. It is more than enough. I am grateful.