I move my small herd of cattle every other day. It’s called rotational grazing, though this time of year, there isn’t much to graze. The idea is for the cows to not over-graze any one spot. 

It takes the heifers a little while to catch on to this pattern. I had one bunch that never quite got the hang of it. I would open the gate to the pasture, put out the feed, and wait. And wait. They were a jittery bunch. Finally, I would have to get in the truck, get behind them, and push them toward the gate. If I went too fast, they would scatter. If I went too slow, they would stop and graze. As the old-timers used to say, “You have to have a cowboy’s eye.” 

This bunch of heifers I have now caught on pretty quickly. I would loop the chain attached to the feed trough over my trailer hitch and pull it to the new pasture. They would docilely follow along, then break into a run at the gate to beat me through it. When they saw that trough moving, they knew something good was coming (I feel the same way when I see an “Outback Steakhouse sign).   

The way my pasture is laid out, there is one rotation that requires the heifers to go from the far end of the pasture to the other end. We are not talking miles but yards. Seventeen of the heifers act as they always act. They follow the truck, they run ahead, they watch me get out of the truck and tell me with their eyes to hurry up and feed them. But there is one heifer, when it comes to making that long move, that just doesn’t get it. 

Every time we make this move (and we have been doing this for months now), she hangs back. She always stops in the same place, three gates back from the pasture she needs to be in. She stands on the other side of the fence, looking at her herd eating, paces back and forth, as if to say, “Hey, how do I get over there?”   

I keep thinking she will get it. If she will just go forward through two gates, make two left turns, and go through the last gate, she will be back with her herd, eating happily. Something in her brain, however, does not connect. She will pace at that fence, wanting to be somewhere else, but can’t figure out how she can get there. 

I know people just like my dumb heifer. I am not calling these people dumb heifers; I am just saying I see people act just like her. They see where they want to be. They are not happy where they are. There is a path that is open to them, but they will not take it. Sometimes it is fear that locks them up. They are afraid of what will happen if they actually make a move beyond where they are.   

It is not always fear that stops people. Sometimes they simply cannot see the way. Even if they have been that way before, their memory has not held it. Something in their brain does not connect.

I am tempted to leave my one dumb heifer where she is. I can be very judgmental about her: “If she wants to stay there, that’s her business.”  Or “I’ll just leave the gates open, and she will figure it out.”  Or even, “Should I just load her up and sell her?” 

Then I remember a story Jesus told, about a shepherd who had ninety-nine sheep and was missing one. He was not satisfied with a one percent loss. Instead, he went back, found that one dumb sheep, and brought it back to the herd. Funny how the stories of Jesus can convict me even about how I care for my cows.

I get in my truck, drive over three pastures to where my one dumb heifer awaits. She looks nervous, unsure what I am going to do, even though we have done this a half-a-dozen times. I circle behind her, honk the horn, and she begins to trot through the first gate. I keep a slow, steady pace behind her. She goes through the second gate. Then, she breaks into a trot, makes the two left turns, and goes through the last gate. She runs to the feed trough, muscles her way in, and starts to eat. 

I get out and close the gate behind her. The Spirit whispers to me, “How many times Clay, have you seen where you need to be, but you have been afraid to move? Or you just didn’t see the way? How many times have I come for you?”  Once again, I get lessons. I get a lesson in gratitude: My Good Shepherd comes for me when my life is off track, thanks be to God. I get a lesson in love: What a good, good Heavenly Father I have, that he values me. How he must love me. And I get a lesson in humility:  I can be a dumb heifer too.