"Flah-da Cattle"

Those wild, old Flah-da cattle,

Cross-bred one and all,

Show a brahmer ear and eye,

And hard to gather, y’all.

And if they were not crazy,

When they came off the truck,

Pretty soon they got that way,

And you were out of luck,

If you were slow and sleepy,

When you stepped into the lot,

‘Cause they would come and get you,

All snorty, slingin’ snot.

And when we got ‘em doctored,

And turned ‘em out to graze,

They followed all around the fence,

It took ‘em several days.

And if they found a weak place,

They might make their escape,

And you won’t know immediately,

Till someone calls you late,

To say I’ve seen your cattle,

Out in someone’s road,

And early the next mornin’,

You saddle up and load,

Your horses and go searchin’,

For those that got away,

And if you can you get ‘em back,

And it works out okay.

But other times you ride and look,

And look and ride some more,

And discover they’re on someone else,

And with their cattle, sure.

But then you have to call and ask,

Can we come on your place,

And get some steers that got away,

Or ask them face to face.

And sometimes they cooperate,

And say that it’s okay,

But sometimes they will toll ‘em in,

Just wait, will call, they say.

And then when grazin’s over,

A year goes by and past,

It’s time to make your gather,

And efficiently and fast.

So you don’t run their weight off,

And keep it all low stress,

And go and get them early,

And sometimes more is less.

And make the circle, always best,

To get all that you can,

The first time that you make your pass,

Least that is what you plan.

And finally the work is done,

You’ve roped the ones you miss,

And got to all the neighbors,

The ones still on your list.

And then all loaded, then shipped out,

To feedlots in the west,

And trucks enroute from Florida,

With crazies like the rest.

And then things start all over,

And we don’t think it strange,

‘Cause with those crazy Flah-da cattle,

It’s not ever gonna change.

“For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1, NLT)

The poem describes our yearling operation while I was growing up in Alabama. My Dad turned out about a thousand steers every year, most of them from Florida, and our lives revolved around the grazing season. The heaviest weight gain was in late spring to the end of the summer, if we got enough rain. All that to say, it was a seasonal business. The Bible tells us that our lives move seasonally as well. Not every single thing that happens is orchestrated by God, and there is certainly a measure of freedom to make choices that matter. But in an ultimate sense God is in control, and as we move through life’s seasons He works in everything for His glory and our good. To be in step with God’s season and timing is a good thing. Those who are led by the Holy Spirit know this to be true.

Lord, lead us through the seasons of life, in Jesus’ name.

Art by Bill Anton, billantonstudios.com. Used by permission. Thanks, Bill, and God bless you.