No...... no cows.....

"Let's go through this field of cows"

If you say that to me, my initial reaction will always be a big, loud "NO!". Cows scare me. Cows close to me freak me out (if there is not a wall in between). Cows on the move - well..... I've read stories of people being trampled to death by cows. 

I have gone through fields of cows in the past. I navigate the danger by sticking as close to the opposite side of the field as possible or I have a friend or family member in between me and the cows. I go through the fields of cows because other people make me. I go through fields of cows because it is the only way through.... and I haven't died yet by cow trample. I'm still here to tell the tale. 

But I'd rather take a diversion (or go home). 

On my walk yesterday I headed through a footpath through a field when I noticed a whole herd stood round their hay feeding trough cage thing. I thought to myself "I've been through worse than this, I can do this". So I opened the gate and took a few steps. Then I looked to my right and saw everything I dread. 

They weren't cows. 

They were bulls. 

And from what I know about bulls, they were likely not to live in such a herd for long so these bulls would be young and frisky and their behaviour would be erratic. 

So, I decided not to risk it. I retraced my few steps and went back through the gate and took the road route instead. 

We all have our limits. 

In the pandemic years we've all had to face our fields full of whatever scares us most. The isolation, the fear of getting ill, the loneliness, the lack of physical contact, the worry about others behaviour, our mental health deteriorating, our jobs being uncertain, not seeing family members, losing those closest to us, everything we've know being taken away...... 

And we can all manage for a while, but..... we all have our limits. 

Our limits are reached at the most unexpected times when our mind and eyes realise it's not just cows in the field (who we might manage), but it's bulls. The unexpected text message, the next piece of bad news, the nasty words from a nice persons mouth who you wouldn't ever dream they'd say something like that, being let down for the 27th time (the first 26 you could manage), stopping and not being able to move again as you're overwhelmed by it all.... 

I've had a number of pandemic moments where it has felt like there are bulls in the field and I've had to find another way (stopping has rarely been an option). I've learnt and am still learning my triggers that lead me to the brink of falling apart. I've learnt to say no more. I've learned when to stay in the field and when to leave for a while. I've walked away leaving others to deal with the field. I've learned some of my limits, and where I haven't, others have held me as my limits get broken. 

One of the purposes of taking time out is to work through the stuff that has felt like going through a field of bulls because there has been no other way. My question in those fields has always been "when do I keep going and when do I give up, and if I'm to keep going, how do I find rest and sustenance on the way". 

My calling is one of courage, so unlike a meeting with a real bull in a field, I will try to keep on keeping on, and so I've had to find that rest and that sustenance on the way. 

Jesus said "come to me all you who have heavy burdens, and I will give you rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light". 

It's not that easy to understand when you're walking uphill through a field of bulls (I didn't mention there was a hill too). Perhaps it is in the outlook ahead - far ahead you know the exit to the field is there, so that hope of an ending is always a motivation.... but what about when you are in the thick of it? 

In the thick of it - it's about seeking out goodness despite. It's knowing that what you are going to have to face can be faced because Jesus is with you. It's choosing to accept that this isn't the way things are meant to be and seeking out better ways within. It's about not expecting the worst and being justified when it happens, but expecting the best and learning to roll with it when you are disappointed. In every struggle there is always hope, in every lament there is always signs of restoration. The  good news of Jesus tells this. 

It's knowing that despite the threat of the bulls in the field, that there is hope. It looks promising, that when the climb through the field is done, there will be something better ahead. It also looks promising on the journey that even if it hurts, that even if you feel you can do more, face no more bulls, that there will be rest stops on the way, even if they don't look like the usual rest stops. The hope of rest is now, and the hope of rest is ongoing. The hope of rest is fulfilled on the journey as well as at the end. 

We all have our limits, and where the only way through tests them as far as they can go because it seems like the only way through is through a field of bulls, Jesus promises to help you rest and keep on doing what you need to do too. It's OK to retrace your steps and find another way round..... and It's OK to sit down for a little while, even when the field ahead appears to be more challenging than you'd hope. Let Jesus take the strain.