Sunshine and an Open Gate

By Brenda Black


They bolted like school children released for recess, with tails curled up and over their backs. Weaned calves in a lot out back of the house provided my afternoon entertainment.Through the newly opened gate they darted as if hearing the starting bell on a race track. I giggled at their athletic antics. One would tear across the pen like she was making a great escape, only to charge a matter of a few yards before meeting the metal rungs of the corral – face to fence. In one swift spin, she'd turn and run again, this time with the rest of the herd in hot pursuit.

For several minutes, their game of tag and turn and sprinting continued. When the running waned, they stood head to head and practiced butting. If calves could smile, I'm pretty sure they were grinning from fuzzy ear to fuzzy ear with great delight. The mild and sunny day in the middle of a cold January was most welcome to the weanlings and offered up a healthy dose of doldrum-ending exercise.

It didn't take much to alter their routine and find it delivered such great joy. Sometimes all one needs is a bit of sunshine and a little more room to roam. Take me for instance. I get a bit stir crazy post holidays. I begin to feel cramped for space and eager to purge. It's like spring cleaning in winter when the Christmas tree comes down.

I broke an all-time record this year of leaving the greenery up all too long. It was Jan. 13, by the time I got everything packed away! Never in my life have I gone past the single digit point of the first month on the calendar when it comes to dismantling the holiday cheer. But travels and work and plain weariness had me postponing the dreadful chore.

Now that the Christmas ambiance is headed to the attic, my house seems quite spacious. In fact, I have yet to return many of my non-seasonal knick knacks back to their standard locations. I'm just enjoying the sunshine and the open gate. I feel freer and lighter and less constrained by so much stuff. I'm thinking of spring garage sales and wondering if I should just leave a lot of my things boxed up ready to affix price tags.


Life gets cold and cluttered at times. Like calves stuck in a pen where it's been snowy and cramped, we can feel constrained by symbolic fences that seem to close in on us in our homes and in our hearts.

What I haven't told you is that as much as I would like to blame the Christmas clutter for my claustrophobic feelings, it has more to do with worries that I'm struggling to turn over to the Lord. Bare walls and shelves seems to help when I feel like I'm going to suffocate from fearful thoughts of things totally beyond my control. So, for a few more days, I'm planning on enjoying the space and I'm not going to rush to fill it back up again. And I also intend to soak up the Son a whole lot more in the days ahead. For at His feet and in His light, can be found my joy and the perfect gate to freedom.

Finding Grace in Cow Tracks and College Kids

By Brenda Black

I guess tender green sprouts and a brand-spanking new bale of hay aren't enough to stop cows from knocking down a gate and partying the night away. The evidence was prolific all around the house from fresh cow patties to deep tracks through a very soft yard. I even found cow hair on the mailbox! In the pre-dawn hours of discovery, it was comforting to know they felt right at home outside my office window where they bedded down contently. I was also extremely glad it was too early in the season to have had the garden up and growing. It would have been history!

The funniest part of my investigative discoveries were the hoof prints that traipsed right beneath our bedroom window. I had to laugh out loud when I imagined a herd of cows tip toeing quietly past, signaling to one another some kind of cow cue that clarified this was a “No Bawling Zone.” Yes, the cows had a heyday as we slept the night away. I'll never know what I missed.

I do know, however, that being able to laugh the next day at the mess was good medicine for my morning. And a chuckle out loud is hands down a great exercise. I guess I was already in a good mood and able to handle the unexpected yard invasion with a little more grace since I'd just come off a weekend of hilarity and energy in a house full of young adults where sleep was in short supply, but laughter came in plenty. Their visit also came with wit and endless ideas for how to have fun and get muddy.

They fished in the rain, tromped through the lots, and repelled down a zip line, sliding to a stop on a muddy creek bank. They played soccer and full contact football on slick, sticky and now-bared spots in the backyard. And then they came inside. Still, they left more tracks on my heart than they did the kitchen floor. They burned off the stress of college classes and small dorm rooms and I was delighted to extend a little grace and let them make themselves at home.

Laughter and grace go a long way to level or clean the muddy tracks that trample our well-laid plans and structured little worlds. And making every effort to see the up side in life and perpetuate joy reaps blessed benefits worth getting a little dirty. Hebrews 12:15a beckons us to “See to it that no one misses the grace of God...” In my country world that includes cows and college kids! The surprising reward is when I give grace, I get grace tenfold returned. Not just grace alone, but joy and peace and good memories to muddy boot!

There are many in this world that just need a soft place to traipse. They need someone to extend a little grace; someone who will get a little muddied with their messes and stresses and welcome them into a home that loves them with the love of Jesus. It may be a neighbor or stranger. It makes no difference. God's grace is sufficient. In the family of God, the tracks of camaraderie run deep and the welcome mat is always marred with precious feet.

“With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.” (Acts 4:33-35)

I heed this lesson from the first century Christians: If home is where the heart is, then those who visit will take a piece of my heart with them when they enter and when they depart. And I'll keep the welcome mat rolled out til the cows or the college kids come home again.

The Perfect Baby

The Perfect Baby
By Brenda Black

“The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes...” Oh the bliss. Mary was indeed highly esteemed. For the rest of us, baby days are full of wonder in different ways. We are favored with little bundles of tears and tummy aches, yet still count ourselves blessed for the privilege of motherhood.

No child is the same. One baby builds confidence, the next brings challenges. If one tries your nerves, another will be your stabilizer. No matter their temperaments, each child delivers his or her own delightful presence in this world.

My first was colicky and cranky for about twelve months! I did not sleep and was irritable myself. I cried nearly as much as the baby and rocked both of us for comfort. At about a year, that little stinker turned into the most peaceful, loving, easy-going little boy I've ever known. To this day, he is dependable and kind. He is loving and friendly. And he can sleep without any trouble!

My second seemed like a breeze when it came to sleep. For all the times I rocked the first, the second insisted I leave him be. However, baby number two capitalized on being well rested. He moved continuously in his waking hours! Running, leaping, rolling and twisting didn't begin after walking – he started before he was born!

Somehow the second seemed easier in spite of his boundless energy, mostly because I had my little helper. Big brother was my second set of hands, eyes and ears. One year of colic was worth every proud moment our first-born has since brought to our lives. And every minute of exhaustion brought us a high-energy, talented, delightful second child.

With the honor of motherhood comes happiness as well as heartache. The moaning of a herd of cows just outside my window illustrates some of the anguish. They loudly announce weaning season with their desperate bellows. In the guttural chorus are songs of separation anxiety that all mothers experience when calves or kids begin to grow and go their own way.

The instinct to protect never ends. A desire to catch them before they fall or kiss all hurt away is protocol for Moms as vividly depicted in “The Passion” during a scene where Mary labors between helping her child and avoiding the horror. As the Christ falls under the burden of a bloodied cross, Mary recalls running to her son when he tumbled as a child on a similar dusty road. She goes to her Son and lifts him once again.

That's what Moms do. We carry the burdens like they were our own. We live through every pain as if afflicted ourselves. We rejoice in their victories, soaking up the success.

It would be nice if babies came with a guarantee of no colic, no tears, no toddler crashes, no teenage tragedies. It would be comforting to not have to worry over mean bosses or deceitful friends. We'd like to think our child's life a bed of roses. But in the end, such a child is spoiled and weak. For all of life's experiences shape them into men and women we'll respect and upon which we may even depend.

Jesus may have begun life with no tears, but he grew to become “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.” (Isaiah 53:3) Though any mother would have wished for anything but the steps he took, had he not walked them, we would be without hope. As his own mother depended on her son's redemption, we likewise need a Savior.

Whether your child is easy or challenging is a minor point. That his mother is forgiven and godly will chart the course for that child's life. Ask King Lemuel:

“The sayings of King Lemuel – an oracle his mother taught him: 'O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows, do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.

“'It is not for kings, O Lemuel – not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer, lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights...

“'Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.'” (Proverbs 31:1-5, 8-9)

Wise counsel from a mom who knew it's not how they start out in life. It's where they end up in eternity. Show them true peace by the way of the cross this Mother's Day and always.