5 Lessons I Learned From Being Trampled By the Demon Cow: Pt. II

Bruises and manure were all over my arms and I was still wrestling that cow by the time Alexa appeared and ordered me to go back to the barn. She would take it from here. I put up a bit of a fight before dragging myself inside and slamming the door shut.

“God, where are you?” I wailed. “Why didn’t You listen to me? Where are you?” I had reminded Him of His promise, “ask for anything in my name and I will give it to you” (John 14:14). I had asked in His name. And He had not given! Was I worshipping a God that didn’t exist?

Lesson 4: He works bad things for my good.

I had gotten so caught up in the bad that I lost sight of all the potential good. I began questioning the foundation of my faith the moment I encountered a challenge. Here I was, debating God’s faithfulness over one stubborn cow, when Job lost his entire livelihood and still trusted God’s sovereignty – and God did deliver! Yes, I was suffering. But:

“…suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character, and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s Love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” –Ro. 5:3-5

If this is true, was my suffering not a good thing? Was it not for my benefit? Was it possible that God withheld the answer I wanted out of love, knowing that this struggle would produce necessary growth in me? He alone knows the plans He has for me. I don’t.

After about 15 minutes, Alexa managed to maneuver Crazy Cow down to the barn. Out I went with the harness, planning to slip it over the hooved demon’s head and drag her inside. “Come on,” I coaxed. In an attempt to appear less threatening I crouched on my heels and centimetered* closer.

Bad idea.

Crazy Cow’s remaining insanity overcame her and she just galloped straight at me. Suddenly I was on my back and she was snorting and bulldozing me with her thick head. She flipped me over like a pancake on the griddle. Somehow I grit out, “Can you get her off me?” And Alexa, the unfortunate audience of my battle with the bovine, snapped to action.

Lesson 5: Always carry a big stick.

Alexa knew this rule. She dexterously whacked Crazy Cow in a different direction, and I peeled myself off the ground. But this time, I had hope. When Crazy ran at me she also ran straight into the harness. It wasn’t on the right way, but somehow we managed to drag/push/whack her inside. An hour late. We tied that cow up, because she still had to be milked. (I didn’t have a free hand so I used my teeth on the manure-soaked cord. A month ago, I would never have done that. At this point, I can do anything.)

Looking back, I find the whole situation entertaining. I suppose it’s easy to laugh because no one was seriously injured. And I know I did acquire perseverance, character and hope. And I’m thankful.

*I would have inched, but this is Europe.