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“Here All the Time.”
There are two ways to reach the rocky road that leads to the pasture. One is through the barnyard which usually means going through several gates; the other is around the top of the barn, past the double sliding doors, along the roof of the old stable, through a wooded area, and upward to the open pasture. I had been busy and was stuck in the mundane existence of daily life. My world had become smaller, duller, and ordinary. No great inspiration compelled me to do my daily prayer walk or even expect my regular quiet time to inspire me. I was experiencing a gray world, one of those times…
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Identity Confusion . . . in the barnyard
I stand at the gate to the barnyard and giggle. I have called and they are coming, rushing up the hillside from the pasture. The chickens are always first, assisting their little legs with flapping wings. Then comes Buck, the goat, running and bleating loudly. Donk, not wanting to look too eager, takes his time, stopping occasionally to check out the reason for being called away from his dinner of grasses. And then comes Jemima, the duck, quacking loudly and waddling as fast as she can, but far behind the barnyard crowd. Jemima is the one who tickles me. She, in no way, can compete with the others . .…
