As a young boy on a dairy farm, it was my job to go into the pasture and round up the cows for milking. I had a vivid imagination and could turn just about anything into an adventure. I often had my trusty dog, “Lassie,” by my side. Yes, I had a dog named Lassie…didn’t every boy in the 50s and 60s?

The pasture was roughly a fifteen-acre rectangle stretching out from the feedlot next to the barn. There were a few scattered trees in one corner and cow paths running diagonally to every part of the field. The only path with any certainty was the one that followed the fence line. There’s something about cows and boundaries, but I’ll save that for another time.

Most mornings and evenings, I would walk across the feedlot, step through the gate, scan the field to spot the herd, and head out to gather them. Me and Lassie off on another adventure. On those days, the paths didn’t matter much because I could see all the way to the horizon.

But there were other mornings; ones that stirred a bit of fear in me and gave my imagination a little too much room to roam.

On those mornings, there was no moonlight, no stars, just a dark, heavy fog. I would leave the feedlot and quickly lose sight of the yellow glow from the barn. It was just me, my flashlight, and a field swallowed in mist. Lassie was no help; he would disappear almost immediately into the fog.

That’s when the cow paths became my guide.

I would lock onto one and begin a steady pattern, crisscrossing the field. I couldn’t see the cows, but I talked to them anyway. I wanted them to hear my voice. One by one, dark shapes would begin to stir… a movement here, a shadow there. They would stand, stretch, and slowly make their way along those familiar paths toward the barn.

Those mornings always took longer. I would go back and forth, making sure none were left behind. And when I was satisfied, I would find a path for myself and follow it home.

It is those ancient, well-worn paths that guide us when nothing else can be seen.

The psalmist understood this well:

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”  Psalm 119:105 (ESV)

The prophet Jeremiah gave this word of encouragement to his people:

“Thus says the Lord: ‘Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.’”  Jeremiah 6:16 (ESV)

There are days in life when our sight fails us. When the fog is thick, the night is dark, and even the stars seem hidden. In those moments, we turn to the ancient paths. We turn to the Word of God and to the witness of those who have gone before us.

And in doing so, we find our way home.

Blessings,
Jarvis… from soil to soul