Grazing

I will provide grass in the fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be satisfied.
—Deuteronomy 11:15 NIV

Rip. Chomp. Rip. Chomp. There’s a rhythm in their eating. Do they even take time to breathe?

From my front porch, I am mesmerized by the Black Angus cows grazing in the lush pasture just yards away.  The lush pasture extends right into my yard, separated only by an electrified barbed-wire fence.  The result of recent rain blessings, the grass in my yard is a foot tall. 

The lawn service was unable to come to my rescue last night, so I attempted to tackle the vegetation myself.  I dusted the seat of my mower, which had remained idle for months, checked for adequate fuel, and then successfully started the engine. But after just one lap around the side yard, the mower began to complain, groaning with utterances beyond understanding.  A quick glance over my shoulder told me my mower had quit the job.  I had only succeeded in riding over the grass, laying it down in my path but not cutting it.

Rip. Chomp. Rip. Chomp. The bovine breakfast persists. Do they even taste the nutritious provision?

As a farm girl, I remember that cows have four stomachs, each serving a specific purpose.  One is a huge storage tank, which holds and softens a large amount of what has been ripped and chomped.   Another is the “hardware” stomach that protects the cow from foreign objects it may have ingested during non-stop ripping and chomping. Here the grass is further softened and formed into small wads called cud, which are returned to the cow’s mouth to be chewed 40 to 60 times before swallowing properly.  The third stomach is a filter, and the fourth is for final digestion, which sends nutrients to the bloodstream and waste to the intestines.

Grazing on God’s word and following His wise instruction “will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones” (Proverbs 3:8).

Many of us desire to learn God’s word but wonder how we can fit it in our hectic schedules.  So we rip and chomp and read and run on with life, barely taking time to breathe—certainly not sitting still to “soften” a bite.  We ingest rather than digest.  But meditation, like chewing the cud, is where the real work begins. 

“For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).

The word of God cuts better than any mower on the market. The sword of the spirit never grows dull (Ephesians 6:17). It protects us from spiritual threats and filters out foreign objects.  It nourishes body and soul.

Dear Father, instead of reading over your word—like riding over the grass, I want to fully digest it, allowing it to do its work in me.  I want to taste and see Your goodness (Psalm 34:8), eat and be satisfied.  Thank You for the delicacy I have in Your word. May I make meditation a must, for Your word truly is food for thought. Amen.