|Two month old Mr. Buckling|
The Psalmist writes:
"Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me."
I'm uncertain what this verse means, but it expresses what I felt for three months this winter.
I caught one nasty virus and then it went into coughing for two months. I'm not sure, but it acted like whooping cough. Or it could have been bronchitis, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is from February second through end of April, I was physically exhausted from the illness.
I went through the ninth anniversary of Joshua's death too sick with a cough to lie down when sleeping. I mourned for my son and I mourned the temporary loss of health.
My deep innermost parts called unto God's deep innermost parts, as the noise of my coughing continued day after day, week after week, and into two months. The waves and billows of fits my body underwent made it hard to breath.
All this, and I still had my responsibilities. I prayed to Lord God to get me through each day of animal chores on my small goat farm. When it got really tough, I prayed to the Father to get me through a morning, when after the chores, I could fall back into bed and sleep until noon.
My goats didn't get the pats and hugs they would have normally gotten from me, but they never suffered for their needs. I fed and watered them regularly, and I milked Pepper Jasmine once a day. The rest of the milk needed to go to her kid, Mr. Buckling.
Because I couldn't do anything extra, like play with my goats, Mr. Buckling suffered and I'm just now realizing this.
Now at almost five months old, he grew these last few months without my gentle handling to help rid his exceptionally wild nature. Even though we weathered him and he's no longer a buck, he remained hard to handle, skittish and a runner. A wonderful thing happened, though: he got more attention from his people. In less than a week, he's a warm, loving little fella. I can almost see him smile, as he rubs his head against arm.
He still doesn't understand what a brush is for, and he'll crane his neck to see the object that rubs his coat. Then, he'll jump straight up in the air after a few brush strokes. Mr. B is learning to trust me more, though, just as I am still learning about God's abundant love and kindness.
The Lord got me through one of the most difficult illnesses as an adult. To name a few, my rest breaks came when I needed them most, there were no major upsets within my goat herd, and my wonderful husband helped me by cleaning out dirty straw from the goat barn.
As I trusted in God, deep unto deep, He never failed my needs. That's the God I worship.
Father, thank You for helping me through a most difficult period of time. In the past, when I was injured or ill, I sensed my Christianity slipping for my misery overwhelmed me. This time, I did not allow such thoughts to rule day or night. I understand now. Being ill does not mean I'm less of a Christian. It means I can grow into a stronger follower of You. In Jesus' name, I'm grateful. Amen.
Until next time . . . allow deep unto deep