The grass IS greener...

The grass truly is greener on the other side of the fence at the farm this month. Three horses and two donkeys can eat a great deal of grass and the three acre pasture we have fenced in for them has been eaten to the ground. As I walk to my kitchen sink in the late afternoon, their heads hang over the gate and through the fence, waiting and watching for me (or someone) to set them free. As I walk out on the back porch, Shirley T and Blacknosed Kate begin to sing a donkey song in anticipation of the sweet soft green grass just on the other side of the fence. The horses nicker and step back and forth, tasting the grass in their imaginations.
As the horses and donkeys walk through the gate, they stop and nibble a little on the yard grass but then move swiftly to the lush fields in front of the high barn. These fields have been mowed regularly for hay so it is mostly grass with few weeds. They wander back and forth, not really going anywhere, just looking for the best stand of clover. All five of them stay close together and if one gets too far away, the whole herd will move to join them. There is an unseen cord that keeps them connected.
After an hour or two of grazing, I go to gather them up for the return to the paddock pasture. Dakota, like me, is old and tired, so he is the easiest to catch. I loop the pocket halter over his neck, around his muzzle and begin to lead him back. The others ignore us as we leave but we keep on walking. Soon I will hear the rumble of hooves as donkeys and horses run past us, kicking up their heels just for the fun of it. The donkeys were so drunk on green grass one night that they ran circles in the yard, kicking and braying, party time.
The trick to green grass as a food is that it is possible for a horse to kill itself by eating too much of it. The sugar in the grass can cause the horse to put on so much weight that it founders. Some horses are more prone to this problem than others. Dakota and Dixie can eat grass all day long and not have a problem but Junie B has to have her grazing restricted with a grazing muzzle. Too much of a good thing can be dangerous.
The horses and donkeys know the answers to questions I have difficulty answering for myself. Who am I? Each animal knows who it is in relationship with others of its own kind. Kate and Shirley know they are donkeys and the horses are the other. The horses connect to each other and have clear relationship boundaries. If a horse gets too close to a donkey, it will get a bloody nose from a kick. If Dixie goes into Junie B’s stall at night, she gets chased out by Junie B. The interesting paradox is their knowledge of themselves is as separate beings, as well as a part of the herd. Dixie knows she can bully Dakota and make him move over. But she stands close to him during nap time, snuggled up close, secure in their connection. Kate knows she can push Shirley away from a bucket of feed but gets anxious when she can’t see Shirley. She walks or runs until she locates her companion. Then you can see her relax, anxiety melting away.
Who am I? I am me, a separate creation, full of unique one of a kind never been seen before never to be seen again components. The mold was broken after my creation. But I am also part of my herd, just like everyone else, no better, no worse, nothing special. What a wonderful gift this is, to be special and not so special at the same time. I am balanced on the top rail of the fence that divides separate self and herd membership. To know myself, I must be in relationship with others unlike me... Republican and Democrat, city dweller and farmer, fundamentalist believer and barely believer, old and young. I need the companionship and security that comes from being with a herd that is like me, too. The truth is I have many herds... my work camp crew, my covenant group, my believer friends, my neighborhood family/friends, my family, some more alike me than others. Like the donkeys and the horses, we need both the same and different to know the answer to the question “Who am I?”
When I read about the disciples, I see a group of people who were so different from one another... fishermen, tax collector, doctor, educated and uneducated, hot headed and calm, skeptic and faith believer, male and female (I include the Marys as disciples)... and so like one another... Jewish, in the same country, at the same point of time in history, living by the same set of cultural and religious rules. Their common belief in Jesus, set them free to be their own unique selves, giving their best gifts even as they bullied and bumped up against one another. Like Dakota and Dixie, Peter and Paul, I can find my true self alone in a herd. Who am I? I am a piece of a whole and a whole piece, created by a loving God who values my gifts and forgives my sins, a person whose life is important and unimportant, a part of a herd and a solitary soul.
The old shaped note hymn says it best... “There’s a wideness in God’s mercy like the wideness of the sea; there’s a kindness in his justice which is more than liberty. There is welcome for the sinner and more graces for the good; there is mercy with the Saviour, there is healing in his blood. For the love of God is broader than the measure of man’s mind; and the heart of the Eternal is most wonderfully kind. If our love were but more simple, we should take him at his word; and our lives would be all sunshine in the sweetness of our Lord.” There is room for us all in the wide kind graced broad merciful simple sweet loving God who leads us home to our evening pasture...