Have you ever felt that what you put into motion was something you were powerless to stop? I can relate. Because here on this little farm in Kansas, the laws of nature support irony as much as they provide symbolic insight and it really is true that you should be careful what you ask for.
In my case, it was goats.
I thought they'd be cute. And functional. They'd trim my pastures and provide for creamy cheese and life would be idyllic in the tall grass and sweet milk, their wobbly baas sweet melody in the wind.
Suffice it to say, it was so much more. Yes, goats were sweet. At times. But oh, so much of a struggle most of the time, and that wasn't always their fault. Their issues weren't confined to personality types but to the elements and seasons and the battles for life. And so, I'd made the decision last year that we had to wrap up our goat adventure.The twelfth year in a row of anticipation and delivery, of warm cotton feelings, sticky splashes of white, joyful meadow prancing, of unpleasant goodbyes and and often bitter barn mucking--of constant chores--had to be our last. A brand new season awaited us!
I was tired of goats, to be honest.
Thus, we didn't make arrangements for babies to be born in the spring. It felt liberating! It felt invigorating. It felt...
a little bit sad.
Until yesterday, when I walked out into chilly, spring sunlight and found this in our western pasture. And a couple of thoughts occurred to me, naturally. First, how on earth?
Well, I suppose where there's a will, there's a way. I'll have to do better than to separate the males from the females through just one fence in the future.
The other was, is this some sort of God joke?
He really is very funny, you know. It would be just like him to mess with me a little more. Just to make sure I'm sure. On April Fool's Day.
Well, okay, the joke is on me. And I suppose it wasn't too bad. Both unexpected babies are girls, and they are now safely nestled in fresh bedding inside a stall in our barn, awaiting the little hands that will rub gently under their chins and the small arms that will hold and caress them, the little faces that will press up against their soft fur and rub noses and giggle at the way they stand under their mommas for a few precious seconds of nourishment.
And it will be okay. Because there is no stopping life on this planet. The seasons will continue to come and go and I will plan for them. But when life happens, I will continue to roll with it. If there is one thing I am okay with feeling powerless to stop, it's definitely that. Life. And life may not always work out according to my timing, but it will always work out for good.
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