Makes Me Lie Down

<h2>From 2020 to the present</h2> I do not know what it is like to be a shepherd, but I do know when I am trying to care and when I am being cared for. The people on horses walk with the cattle to guide them and rescue them when one goes astray. The fences that animals rub against, push through, jump over, or squeeze under are there to keep them (and others) from harm and to keep them where the resources are. Looking at the boundaries set for us can feel restrictive. They may indeed be so, but how we respond to them depends, I think, a lot on who placed the boundaries. Do the sheep follow anyone with a stick? Do cattle respond differently depending on the temperament of the person goading them? While they often seem like setbacks, restrictions play a key role - perhaps the biggest role — in one’s freedom. I am editing this on my mother’s birthday, April 30, and in 2020, after delivering to her a painting by a local artist. I bought it for her to go into the new house they are building, as they are overcoming losing their house in a fire (insurance helps a lot). That was a restriction, a fence, a boundary. Over the past year there have been a few restrictions placed on our life here, as well. But what of it? Do we drink a bitter cup each morning? Do we perpetuate the attitude of defeat? <a href="https://medium.com/@sethtummins/makes-me-lie-down-22360fe4877c">Read More</a>