Cows are really good listeners.

Sometimes it's just too much. The demands of parenting and cleaning and homeschooling and creating... it grows to a steady roar, constantly filling my head and pushing me to the edge of sanity. {This isn't an exaggeration. Mom's globally, you get me.} Lately, I've allowed myself to shut off completely. Too much became too overwhelming and I just... stopped. Instead of handling this well, I just quit everything. I stopped writing, stopped parenting on purpose, stopped reading, stopped seeking God. It was easier to quit.

The other day, the kids were running around in the woods behind their Granddad's house and I slowly followed along behind them, trying my best to be alert and aware and appreciative of the natural world around me. The woods are small enough and fenced in, so I could let the kids roam free.

There is a hill in the back that leads to the horses yard. Near the top, my feet landed on this rock:

And this was my view:

Okay, minus the cow patties, it was perfect. With the kids in earshot, I found myself breathing deeper than I had in a while. There's something about the country. 

Then these guys showed up:

Who knew cows could be such good listeners? They kept creeping closer until finally they were right up against the fence. Well, until I moved, at which point they all took off running. Have you ever watched a herd of cows run scared? It's hilarious. 

I stood on the rock for a while. The kids would climb the hill, calling me to come join them. Most days that we are in the woods, I do. But this day I needed something I hadn't grasped yet. I encouraged them to go play and fixed my eyes again on the rolling hills. 

I prayed. Nothing fancy or scripted. Just...

What do You want to say to me? I'm listening.

I'd love to tell you I had a life-changing, mind-blowing encounter; something that was so monumental that my life will forever stay on track and I won't ever wonder or question again. 

But to be honest I don't think that's what God intends for us. The questioning and wondering and struggling is what defines our faith in the end. It amplifies the love story. If we never questioned, never wrestled with understanding, our faith would lose it's depth.

What I saw in front of me, the rolling hills and rocky bluffs and, yes, even the cow patties, was life. Life stretched before me like a great adventure. And the question that I received in response to my first was:

There is life stretched before you. What are you going to do about it? 

What I needed was perspective. I needed a glimpse at a bigger picture. Our singular lives become prisons when we lose sight of the bigger picture. The walls slide in around us, pressing us into a space too tight to function.

I had stopped writing because I was too overwhelmed. I had stopped reading books because I was too distracted. I had stopped reading my Bible because I was too frustrated. I had shied away from prayer because I didn't want to be corrected. And I was parenting and wife-ing on autopilot. 

I was choosing nothing. Doing nothing. 

Disappearing. 

But there it was. Life. Still waiting to be lived. 

We each stand on a rock with life rolling and stretching before us. It is wide and long and beautiful. It is full of barriers and pitfalls and cow patties. There are billions of people filling a diverse and beautiful and broken world, and we each have a part to play. 

"You are salt for the Land. But if salt becomes tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except being thrown out for people to trample on. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Likewise, when people light a lamp, they don't cover it with a bowl, but put it on a lampstand, so that it shines for everyone in the house. In the same way, let you light shine before people, so that they may see the good things you do and praise your Father in heaven." 

Matthew 5:13-16

We were created for a purpose greater than ourselves. But we will never reach it sitting still, doing nothing, feeling sorry for ourselves, or quitting. Trust me when I say that I get it. More than I wish. What gets me is looking at my children. When they reach adulthood, will they look to me as an example of determination and life-living. Will I be that for them? In a decade, what will I have accomplished? And will it be an arrow pointing to God, or will I have gone my own way, ignoring the Gift-giver completely? 

It knots my stomach to imagine the latter. 

So I'm happy to say I have been thoroughly chided. I feel the weight of responsibility again that comes with realizing your gifts and knowing they aren't to be wasted. Life still demands so much, but the bigger picture is in my heart again. 

Oh, and I got these. So now I can see. That helps.