A Killer Prowls My Land

Yesterday evening, Friday, we arrived back at Sawmyl Synders Farm and one dog greeted us, Syndee, the big Anatolian.  No Sydnee, little Akbash.  We unloaded the truck and entered the cabin I restrained Syndee from accosting my wife.  I looked around.  I called.  I listened.  It was dark.  There was no Sydnee.  I went back in and got one of my newly purchased mini-flashlights.  No need.  With the other lights that come on at night, easy to see a pure white puppy even on a perfectly black night.  The pup just out of sight back near the garden and the coops.  But she didn’t greet me.  Something was awry.  Something was dead.

Sydnee finally did it.  She let her instincts and nature take over.  And now the worst thing, the most nightmarish thing had happened.  Laying in the grass, lifeless, an animal killed by its protector.  An eight week old poulet in the jaws of a four month old guardian dog.  The little chick was too small to survive its first day outside, having escaped its protective coop.  The young puppy, too young to know the consequences of going too far with its animal antics.  The master of both too inept to secure the chicken run against the escape or anticipate the horror of a confrontation with his beloved charges.  The guilty must be dealt with.

A chicken killing dog must be stopped, no matter young or old, no matter if it is the first time.  But first, what happened?  I wanted to let my maturing poulets out of their 8X8 Coop III but the attached chicken run had unrepaired damage from the May floods and also the since departed billy goat.  I inspected the run closely two days ago and made the repairs yesterday.  The repairs consisted of holes torn in the chicken wire, separation of chicken wire from fence and fence panels, and movement of panels from their prior attached positions.  I spent an hour and thought I was thorough.  The poulets were released and reluctantly explored the outdoors, safely in the fully enclosed chicken run.  I checked on them several times that afternoon.  I put a waterer in the chicken yard to encourage their adventuring.  All was well, until the night.

Just when you turn your back.  Just when you let your guard down.  Just when you think it is safe.  The puppy is a guardian as much as it is predator.  A friend can be trusted but he also must be watched.  The needy must be given generosity but their desperation often exceeds their gratitude.  Just as I have faith that my dogs will do their duty, I must also remember their nature.  Just as I trust in my friends, I must remember that they are not family.  Just as I want to give to the needy, neither do I want to be taken.  Each encounter has a double edge.  Each edge has the ability to heal as well as cut.  Do not fall asleep expecting either health or harm.  Do wake up to the possibilities of both from those you choose to allow in your circle.

 

Matthew 20:1-16King James Version (KJV)

1 For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard.  The kingdom of heaven resembles a householder who hires laborers to work in his vineyard.

And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard.  The laborers agreed to a wage of a penny a day to work in his vineyard.

And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace,  After three hours, the householder observed idle men in the marketplace.

And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you.
And they went their way. (?) The householder told the idle men he would pay them a right wage.

Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise.

And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle?

They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.

So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first.

And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny.

10 But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny.

11 And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house,

12 Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day.

13 But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?

14 Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.

15 Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?

16 So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.

My first take is: Opportunity is provided in the beginning by one to all.  All may choose to capitalize but may not be able at the same time.  The ones who chose first are no better than the ones who chose last, their reward is still the same.  This is at the discretion of the good man.  One can assume the evil eye might respond differently.  The one who agrees to terms with another may not change those terms, only the maker of those terms has that option.

Upon re-reading this parable, I am at first confused.  When verse 4 states “they went their way” it could be understood as they left (as it is meant in verse 14).  Verse 15, the householder becomes slick and uses a leap in logic by attributing the laborer’s “evil eye” to the householder’s goodness rather than his obvious lack of fairness.  The householder even contradicts himself in verses 4 and 7 by telling the men he would pay them what was “right”.

Verse 16 explains the actual proceedings and but does not explain the logic.  Why pay more for less?  Won’t the next harvest find these early risers hiding at the tavern until the 11th hour?

In the parable each of the people and the places, wages, and hours are symbolic.

19:30 But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.

The well-tended vineyard is the symbolic image of Israel, God’s obedient people of the Old Covenant Church in covenant with Yahweh.

In verse one Jesus says this parable is about the coming Kingdom of Heaven that He has come to establish; therefore this parable is about the new Israel and the New Covenant Church.

  1. vineyard = the Church, the kingdom of heaven on earth/house of God
  2. housemaster/lord of the vineyard = God
  3. laborers = those who serve the kingdom/house of God in the Old and New Covenants or who come to serve the kingdom at different ages in a lifetime.
  4. market-place = the world
  5. foreman who pays the promised wage for service = Jesus
  6. wage = salvation
  7. hours = the age of man in salvation history from Creation to the end of the age of man and/or the lifetime of a person from birth to the end of life

Whether a person is baptized at birth and continues to serve the Lord all his life or the person who is called in his youth or middle age or even the person who answers the call to salvation at the end of his life, God’s gift of salvation is freely given in every case.

Tangled Up and Don’t Know What to Do About It

On Monday, I discovered one of my Cornish Rocks with a string wrapped around one leg.  That discarded eighteen inch piece of string belonged to a feed bag and attached to a length of wire which the unlucky chicken dragged around the otherwise sparsely furnished chicken coop.  This unfortunate circumstance happened several days earlier.  How do I know this?  My little chicken, now Chicken Little, grew half the size of the other thirteen coop-mates.  Chicken Little’s right legged extended straight out from her feathered frame due to dragging the mass.  Even though the leg could be flexed, after removing the drag, CL could still not walk properly.  The mishap injured her and crippled her.  I pray she recovers but I doubt she will.  So who is responsible for the crippled chicken?

In my earlier blogs I have besmirched poultry, really all birds, as “bird brains”.  Knowing how to get into trouble but not knowing how to get out of it.  Also, in another blog, I assumed that my chickens knew what they were doing when it came to birthing before finding a dead chick in the nest box.  Who is responsible for the chickens?  Who is responsible for the dangerous debris littering the coops and the grounds?  Who makes assumptions?  The chickens?  No.  Of course it is the clueless farmer.  Yeah, the one over there with the big brain and bushel of assumptions.  The one holding a crippled Cornish Rock in one hand and a dead Buff Orpington chick in the other.  The one making judgements about those under his care and now facing judgement for his lack of care.  Recommendation?  Cleanup, shut-up,  and be a farmer not a philosopher.

I stated last Sunday that I blogged for a hobby, blogged about how my farm animals knew how to get into trouble but never knew how to get out which closely paralleled my own conundrums.  This chick-caught-on-a-string-and-wire episode sits as a good example.  Months ago, I accepted an invitation to a gathering with pleasure.  Weeks ago, I realized the reason for the invitation with apprehension.  Days ago, I accepted my financial obligation with trepidation.  Now, I lay here along side my crippled chick, tangled up in a situation, dragging an unwanted responsibility, and fearing that I will never be quite the fully functioning believer that I was before I got entangled.

Just as I am responsible for removing the hazards to my farm animal and rescuing them when they get into trouble, so also am I responsible for removing hazards to myself and for extricating my limbs from the tangles of life and the people in my life.  Don’t say yes so easily to strangers, it is a steep slope.  Question the details of what you are getting into before getting into it.  If money or time is involved, gather enough information so that you can set a limit.  Even though charity should be unbound generosity, in reality it can become unbound avarice.  The meek can become predatory if you allow yourself to become prey.  Your donation can become robbery if you never stop and say nay.  It is better to stop giving in time than to stop giving altogether.

Matthew 25:14-30 – The Parable of the Silver Pieces

  1. For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them;
  2. to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability.  Then he went away.
  3. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents.
  4. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents.
  5. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.
  6. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them.
  7. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, “Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.”
  8. His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.”
  9. And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, “Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.”
  10. His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.”
  11. Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed;
  12. so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.  Here you have what is yours.”
  13. But his master replied, “You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter?  …worthless, lazy lout!
  14. Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest.
  15. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents.
  16. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.
  17. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Summary Matthew 25 Parables

Ten Virgins 1-13: I tell you, I do not know you.

Five virgins were foolish; The foolish said to the sensible, “Give us some of your oil…”;  Master answered, “I tell you I don’t know you…”

Silver Pieces 14-30: You worthless, lazy lout!

Master handed over funds according to each man’s abilities;  …out of fear…; those who have not will lose even the little they have.

The Last Judgement 31-46: Out of my sight, you condemned…

…go off to eternal punishment…

Lost Chickens and Found Hope, Desperation Meets Desolation

This morning one of my six-gifted Buff Orpingtons went missing.  I observed only five hefty hens roaming the Coop de  I.a today.  Our late night out left the flightless avians vulnerable.  Did the guardians sleep through a raccoon reconnoiter?  Look for feathers.  Blood.  Find the headless hen.  I contained and counted my other fifty-eight fowl.  All accounted.  There must be evidence.  Should always be evidence.  Good job farmer.  First panic, then think.  Yesterday, you let the Buffs bound from their bastion for the first time.  In their delight, they roamed the range.  From turkey shed to trailer bed and all mysteries in between.  She, the missing, could still be desperately hold up in a fenced area, perimeter, or another deadly and predatory cardboard box.  Stop thinking.  Listen.  That egg laying cackle.  She lost now found…laying an egg.  Next door in little Coop de I.b.  The prodigal poultry produced.  Plus egg.

When emotion trumps reason initially, one proves to be human.  But if emotion never finds reason, one submits to irrational.  If emotion reigns during decisions and dealings, she allows her emotional flood to soak endeavors and stall the clever.  Any generous individual who ventures into the land of giving gets taken.  Desperate people survive through boldness.  You extend to the beggar a penny, the hand demands a pound.  The newborn philanthropist recoils once at this avarice and often retreats. Panic, much like that with a farmer’s lost chicken, over powers reason.  The reason for generous giving in the first place now grounded by generous taking.  The anatomy of needy and function of fortune-less must be understood before surgically removing poverty with stitches of charity.  The tactics of the desperate need be known, else one’s wealth stealthily moves into the poor’s pocket.  The beliefs of the bold cannot be altered.  The giver must balance beggar beliefs against continued contributions and the welfare of all involved.

Needy people develop tactics when the beggar’s cup rings empty.  Be it a lion’s den or a stranger’s, the family patriarch or matriarch moves brazenly to support the family’s immediate needs.

Desperate people rise to survival before descending to consent.

Bold people emerge from poverty after beliefs find no humanity.

Stand and deliver gifts, but not all of them.  And not all that could be given.  And only what you want to give.

 

Bird Brain – Knowing Only How to Get Into Trouble

Barnyard birds get into trouble.  The trouble farmer gets them out.  Today, ten birds crowded the small isolation coop meant for the six gift hens given by the neighbors.  Six buxom buff orpingtons joined four golden sex-links.  Golden girls.  Farmer Drew Goode knew not how they got into this once-thought-secure coop.  And those golden girls didn’t know how to get out.  No matter how they cooed and cackled the gateway to freedom did not open.  No matter their pained pleas, the resident rooster didn’t come to the ready rescue.  The harried hens knew how to get into trouble.  But they couldn’t, never could, never will figure a way out.

It isn’t that all blondes are dumb, not even in the chicken world.  But at least these blondes, the golden sex-link hens, have an excuse.  Their brain size compares to a dime, though they have slightly more sense.  Early in the week, the fatigued farmer saw Tom turkey roaming outside the turkey trot fence.  Not a complete shock.  When all of the turkeys were younger and more svelte, they were constantly escaping the four foot fencing, flying sometimes thirty feet in the air.  With age and sage, they stuck to the muck of their enclosure, occasionally escape escapades tolerated.  This rare bird broach by big bird required human intervention (open the gate, kick the bird towards it while fending on the guardian dogs).  Soon secured, Tom said nothing about how or why he sought trouble.  The dumb animal, somewhere in his little bird brain, got high on the rescue.

Birds aren’t the only creatures that can’t find their way out of a paper bag, let alone a cardboard box.  Not to labor the dumb blonde sex-links, but one of these cuties found her way into a discarded cardboard box the other day.  Old Goode two-shoes heard some strange clatter as he pronounced his morning chicken chores of fooding and watering.  Thud-scratch-clat-clat-clat!  What could it be?  A little silence and focus led dense Drew to the chicken size box on the nearby bench.  Sure enough, the terror to all head-first-entering beasts – a door that opens to the inside.  Once the chicken pushed into the box to see if there was anything to eat – it became a trap – and escape could only be accomplished by a reluctant benefactor.  Benefactors, though only appreciated at the point of rescue, benefit us all at one time or another in our recurring dead-ends in life.

The moral to the story might be that birdbrains and geniuses both find their way into trouble.  Without a benefactor, one might get stuck.  Without luck, one might succumb to a bad actor.  Sometimes one has claw their way out.  Other times one must stay and fight and adapt to the new environment.

Wasted All the Way – Bad Debts, Good Intentions, and Naive Assumptions

Today I found a fully feathered chick – in the nest box of a broody hen among a dozen unhatched egg – DEAD.  Eyes pecked out.  Not the original broody hen on the eggs at the time.  I assumed the hens knew what they were doing broody.  I assumed the hens were looking out for chick life among themselves and no harm would come to the new born poulet.  I assumed I knew something that I had no reason to believe.  Feeling naive?  For sure.  Feeling stupid?  Not any more than usual as a novice farmer.  To blame?  Who else?  Stepping back, my fallacy of assumptions, good intentions, and experience with bad debtors, I seem to have built a wall which blocks my vision of reality.  Is this a bad thing?  Whether good or bad, I probably won’t shed my myopic visions of the world to save my life.

Look around me
I can see my life before me

Yesterday, I collected a debt.  Well, I collected the majority of it.  Actually, someone else, a debt collector friend, collected the partial debt for me.  The debtor confected a sweet story, believed by my friend, which had me saying that I would contact the debtor about the repayment.  Not true.  Has this happened to you?  The debtor needed something – six months ago.  The eventual debt collector referred that person to me.  I willingly became the benefactor.  But once the kindest was afforded, I unknowingly became responsible for resolving the debt.  If someone does not value your relationship, that person will not honor their debts incurred.  I learned again the lesson I should have already memorized.

Running rings around the way it used to be

Bad debts, partial payment, lost relationships scatter my past even as my experience with them has enriched my life with unintended wisdom about the way things used to be.

I am older now
I have more than what I wanted
But I wish that I had started long before I did

Early in the week, I encountered some known acquaintances who I intended to help financially.  They certainly needed it.  I could afford it.  What could go wrong?  I don’t mind a little manipulation for a good cause.  I have more than what I wanted…these people have less than they need.  I know that entry into heaven can be influenced on goodness, even though I don’t believe in heaven.  I know that the path to hell is paved with greed and selfishness, even though I don’t believe in hell.  I also now know the feeling of when I don’t want to do something.  This feeling came over me as my good intentions were being manipulated thin by the recipients of my generosity and I felt unintended responsibilities were being piled on.  Soon my financial obligation, already hundred’s of dollars, grew to double.   I sought council and found resolve.  However, the manipulation resumed the next afternoon.  I have little experience with philanthropy because for most of my life I had so little.  Now I know philanthropy’s steep slope, hard for the novice to avoid, with total abuse being the abyss.

And there’s so much time to make up everywhere you turn
Time we have wasted on the way

A friend in need is a friend indeed, so goes a proverb.  My closest friends, I always assumed, experienced my loyalty.  My old buddy benefited from my friendship on many occasions, yet on many occasions he did not fulfill his assumed commitment to me.  Didn’t show.  Didn’t call.  Didn’t answer the phone, text, or email.  Didn’t care.  My old work colleague of nearly twenty years wore his lack of reciprocity with honor.  He never returned a favor.  Never repaid a debt.  Never spoke well of me to others in person or behind my back.  My old best friend could call me at any time and for any reason and I would be there for him.  This would be true of him toward me when I was in need.  Until the last five years or more.  Just when I needed help most, he did not show.  He did not respond to his own commitment to come over when I flooded this spring and I lost everything.

So much water moving underneath the bridge
Let the water come and carry us away

I secretly estranged myself from my-former-best-friend way before the flood.  I’ll say that life caused him to become loony and lost.  My contacts with him were to sit while he worked on his “zingers” to sling at me.  My widely spaced visits to his house were merely welfare checks, the best part – leaving.  The contagious insanity in that monstrous house infected my inoffensive demeanor.  Now, I got rid of him (from my conscious life) but he still haunts my unconscious.   Unaware he lost a loyal old friend – in the depths and tangles of his new found insanity.

Oh, when you were young
Did you question all the answers
Did you envy all the dancers who had all the nerve

As a young one leaving home, I realized something wasn’t right.  I knew I had to get out of that place to find the answers.  I got out but I didn’t find any answers.  I found more questions.  More pain.  But at least I was living in reality if not acknowledging it.  I envied many but found, eventually, that they were also full of unanswered questions about relationships, desire, and flaws in human nature.  I realize that I must state what I want.  But with age, the sand runs faster and the formula for life seems buried.  With regard to human nature, I now give people reduced expectation.  With my own myopia, I must cut through the myth mist.  Be more realistic.

Look around you now
You must go for what you wanted
Look at all my friends who did and got what they deserved

I remember what House MD had to say about “deserve”:  “People don’t get what they deserve.  They just get what they get.  There’s nothing any of us can do about it.”  I left home but I never wanted anything but out.  I probably thought I deserved something. I didn’t know what it was.  I certainly didn’t get it.  However, now I have much.  In the form of my children and grandchildren. Those who had much back then, have much less here and now.  My family doesn’t cringe when I approach.  I don’t fabricate the past to justify the present.  I don’t explain a lifetime doing honest work for felonious clients.  I didn’t expose family to felons (or their future felonious ferals) on vacations.  I didn’t hook up with a female felon for future years.  I didn’t get what I deserve but the one’s who got the good stuff early and through stealth,  get other stuff late and through just deserts.

So much time to make up everywhere you turn
Time we have wasted on the way
So much water moving underneath the bridge
Let the water come and carry us away

I waste no time trying to change the past.   Yes, most of my years were spent in fear, isolation, and sadness.  No, I don’t have the power to change any of that.  I wasted time but now it’s over.  My life being over blesses someone who never comprehended my purpose anyway.  Life flows like water under the bridge.  I’ll never get back what I allowed to be taken from me or what I have freely given away.  Bad debts, good intentions, and naive assumptions litter everyone’s path.  Better to let them be carried away than bitter to sit beside them.

Wasted on the Way – Crosby, Stills & Nash