Apple woke us at dawn screaming bloodly murder. She is a four-month-old doe whose mother, frankly, isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean. And it seems our Apple has inherited that intellictual ability as well. Yes, I adore Apple. She is cinnamon with just the tiniest bit of white on one back hoof and on her left side. And she has this great way of tilting her head and "flying" her ears when she looks at you. She is the doe in the front in our banner, if you care to take a look. She is cute in spite of the fact that she should be on the short bus.
But, I digress.
It seems that our Miss Apple has a knack for not realizing the size of her head. And as such, she is always getting it stuck somewhere -- the fence usually. But, because she is so sweet tempered, she just sits down and screams until we come cut her out -- no fighting, pulling, or wrestling -- just calm resignation to the situation until someone comes.
As I went out in my jammies to cut her out this morning, I was thinking how her attitude could serve the two-legged variety varmint as well. How many times do we push and pull in a situation that we really have no control over at all? How many times do we spend a lot of energy grousing when really all we have to do is just sit quietly and wait?
I am reminded of the Scripture: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
Maybe that is just the lesson silly Miss Apple has taught me. That, and to keep the wire cutters handy...