Sunday rest on Parkplace Farm was celebrated with gusto. Following the 4th Command the family sought to keep every 7th day ‘holy’ – special – relaxed. The family – especially the Farmer & the sibling’s Grandfather worked six days doing everything needing to be done. But on Sundays the family, everyone who visited, hired hands, and even the animals, rested. It was on these days the siblings knew that no school homework, no duties, no chores were demanded.
Often – on these Sunday afternoons, friends & family came over, for lunch, afternoon fun, and conversation.
One day the family happily entertained a travelling singer and his family of four kids who closely matched the ages of the four siblings. They had all attended the small church in a town a few miles south of the farm. Mid afternoon the guests reluctantly announced that they had to go.
With that, the Farmer asked his four children if one would collect a parting gift.
Kenny volunteered.
Knowing what to do, he ran west of the farmhouse over the narrow lawn to the white picket fence. He looked both ways, and climbed the fence rails. He jumped into the central pasture and ran to the top of the hill. He stopped and looked around cautiously. The sheep of the pasture and the dreaded, protective ram were a distance away, half resting in the northwest corner of the pasture. They causally looked at the boy on the hill, then continued resting or eating.
Kenny sprinted the rest of the pasture to the wire fence on the west side south of the long barn. He climbed the fence and hopped down.
Over the gravelled laneway, he entered the west chicken barn. He carefully selected 48 of the best eggs: a range of tiny eggs, large doubled-yolked eggs, and various shades of beige, placing them in a tray.
He carefully picked up 4 dozen eggs and began his careful march back the way he came – much slower than he had come. When he got to the graveled driveway he paused, wondering if he should take the long way around. He decided the presentation of the eggs would be more impressive, the way he had come.
He approached the wire fence and stooped down to slide the eggs under the fence. Moving down to the next post, he crossed gently.
He returned to the eggs, and before picking them up he scanned the pasture. Seeing no sheep he lifted the eggs up and held them on his outstretched arms. He followed his path but avoided the hill. Just past the hill he looked up and saw his siblings, their friends, his parents and their friends gathering around the car and turning toward his beautiful tray of eggs.
He smiled in pride.
Then he saw his sisters looking shocked, covering their faces, and his brother break out into a grin. And then it happened…
WHAM!
He flew into the air, a pain emanating from his posterior. He landed with a thud on, and around the eggs, and looked up. The ram – the sibling’s wooly enemy, arch nemesis of Dandy the horse, who stalked the Farmer at shearing time, the bold protector of his flock stood behind Kenny. He bleated with bravado.
Kenny, embarrassed, hurt and covered with eggs, grabbed a remaining intact egg and threw it the ram, making contact with his black nose.
The ram licked the broken yolk, belated louder as if laughing.
That day Kenny learned: be careful what you proudly collect, to give this world, it can be upset in a moments notice.
Moral to the story: When evil hits hard & breaks your best efforts – When you are lying in mess of brokenness – When your good intention fail, get up! The beginning of recovery – of the rebuilding of your faith, starts when you get up.
Farming Faith 