Twelfth Night...

I pitched a hissy fit earlier this week about being left alone in the manure and mud of cow tending. Help and offers of help arrived and I calmed down. Then a day like yesterday comes along and I remember why I love being on the farm with the animals.
Our young bull, Bully, came to live at Sabbath Rest Farm nine months ago and we are seeing the results of his first week on the farm this winter. His first baby, Noel, was born just before Christmas and she is a lovely black heifer. Yesterday when Michael and I went to feed in the early morning, there were two cows ready to calve, one of them a first time mama. All day long I shuttled back and forth between the house and the fields watching them in labor, worried about the new mama. Often first time cow mamas have difficulty birthing their babies and need assistance.
When the birthing time got close, I called Gary and asked for help checking the heifer. When we got to the low pasture, Fanny was there but not the heifer. As we stood and watched, Fanny’s baby was born. Gary turned to me and said, “No matter how many times I see that, it is still a miracle to me.” And, it is. Being present at birth is a reminder of the wonderfully mysterious natural order that brings new life to this tired old world in the dark of winter. I can imagine the Wise Men from the East having the same sense of awe and wonder as they saw the Christ Child for the first time.
We went looking for the heifer, worried that she might be in trouble. Our fences are not the best in the world and she had gone into the woods. We drove up to the high pasture and I walked the woods as Gary drove the fence line. We found her and walked her back to the barn. David and Diane came in case we needed help pulling the calf. As Gary drove to get ropes, David checked the heifer as she was laying down in full labor. The calf was coming so he pulled the front legs and helped it come quickly, pulling the membrane off the baby’s face so he could breathe. Immediately the new mama stood, began licking the baby giving him his first bath and the baby made his first sounds. Instinct... a mystery and a marvel... helped mama do what she had never done before, tend her baby and helped the baby breathe and stand.
I wonder if it is instinct that leads us to the Source of our Creation, our Mother and Father who brought us into being. Everyday, sometime during the day or night, I find myself turning towards God, searching for the comfort of loving care and presence. The Wise Men followed a star trusting that its light led to a new incarnation of God. I follow the signs of life around me and know that God is present in the birth of new calves and the tender care of their mamas. I see Bully come and help bathe the new baby, welcoming him into the herd. I see the babies lie next to their daddy and snuggle up to him. I feel the assurance of God being next to me in my daily life whether I am in the midst of manure or miracle. God is in my heart, my head and my understanding. Thanks be to God for instinct, birth, new life, darkness and light, winter and cold. All are a part of the miracles that surround me here at Sabbath Rest Farm.

Fanny’s baby was a little bull who we named Frank for Frankincense for the Twelfth Day of Christmas. The other baby bull was named Murray (Christmas). Ain’t life a hoot?