How many of us can say that we love our jobs? Love them so much that we wake up early wanting to go to work, and go to bed early so that we can spend more time at work the next day?
I have such a job! I’ve been a night owl my whole life, but since Lucy came, I’ve been going to bed early and getting up (literally) when the roosters crow (we still have a few left!) …. because I want to. Somehow she’s managed to make me look forward to 6am when there is still dew on the ground and my little early bird (youngest son) is just waking up for the day and the three of us greet the morning together. Because, really, who wants to stay up late vegging on the couch when there’s a cow to milk in the morning?!
I remember reading about cows becoming like members of the family, and I’m starting to understand that. There’s something wonderful about getting underneath this 1200lb animal every morning and trusting her to help me provide for my family…. I really can’t describe how that feels. Milking time has become my prayer time. I talk to God and somehow, praying under a cow feels more normal than praying anywhere else. With my head pressed up against her warm belly, I don’t suffer from the tongue-tiedness I often have during prayer. With the rhythm of the milk hitting the pail, I sing or meditate or just sit quietly at peace with the world. When I’m finished, she follows me around the field and nudges me (gently!) when she wants to be scratched and lows softly for me when I leave her. This is the cow who had never been halter trained and wouldn’t let me near her face when she first came here. I think the feeling is mutual.