All over the countryside, folks are studying their hay, checking the weather report several times a day, cutting their hay, checking the weather report several times a day, waiting for the windrows to dry (but not too much), checking the weather report several times a day, baling or chopping their hay, checking the weather report several times a day, and stacking their hay on trucks or in stackyards. Those who pray, pray for perfect haying weather (lots of sunshine, no rain, a light, dry breeze) and for zero equipment breakdowns (which mean lost time, hay quality, and money). As soon as the waiting, sky-watching, praying, and rushing about is finished, they race to get irrigation water back on their hayfields (if it’s grass hay, they need regrowth for pasturing stock; if it’s alfalfa, there’s still time to get two more cuttings—three more if they live in milder climes). Whew!
That’s what the farmers and ranchers are doing, but what about the soon-to-be recipients of this hard-fought but delicious, nutrient-rich hay? What are the cows doing to help? Nothing. They just rest in the shade, calmly chewing their cuds, ignoring all the hustle and bustle of haying crews and large machinery, acting as if work, worry, and commotion are beneath them.
I used to think that people are smarter than cows, but now I’m not so sure.
“In quietness and confidence is your strength.” ISAIAH 30:15