It's Not Merely What We Do...

You guessed it. I am writing in defense of myself, my neighbors, my friends and our fellow ranchers. More than that however, I am writing because I know that there are people out there who don't understand. People that I know would feel the sting of guilt if they did have more understanding. Allow me...

This life of ranching, it isn't merely what we do, it is part of who we are. "Who is that gentleman?" You are asked by the person behind you at the grocery store. Answers may vary, but I guarantee it will be something relating to the ranch that he was raised on and now operates over west of town. And that woman there? Well, she raises horses over on the White River. That young man? Oh, he is the son of this rancher who lives over east of town, they raise registered herefords. It is how we are identified, it is how we live, it is so much a part of what makes us who we are, what has built our character. Sometimes it has been a part of their lives for generations, it's where and how you grew up. When someone says you can take a person out of the country but you can't take the country out of the person, they aren't far off, it is a different world and one that has had a big part of shaping your very identity.

Understand, our hearts literally broke when we were able to get out and see the devastation this storm caused. Not only for ourselves, for the young neighbor family who lost their heifer herd that they had put sweat and tears into getting to the place where they would have their own heifers to calve this spring that were just the genetics they had been working for to produce the kind of cattle they thought they could make a go of this ranching thing with. For our children who spent hours and days bottling, playing with, halter breaking and riding these animals and we have to go home and tell them we found them dead on the prairie and there was nothing we could do. For the kids that will go back to camp some summer excited to ride that horse that they hit it off with last year or the year before, the horse that helped them to accomplish something they had only ever dreamed about, but will then be told that they will never see him on this earth again. For those who have to tell them. For the animals who suffered and we couldn't save. Our. Hearts. Broke.

I have heard the question asked, "Why didn't you move the cows to protection when you knew the storm was coming?" Many people have sought to debunk this one with explaining that there wasn't time. You have already heard that, but have you heard of all of the people who already had their cattle and horses or livestock in winter pastures and still received losses? It didn't matter. Some were heavy and some were small, yet a loss is a loss all the same. I know of people who wintered these same pastures for years and yet, up out of the draws, trees, and cover the wind took them and there they died, even in places that received merely inches of snow. It wasn't the snow, it wasn't lack of preparation on the part of the people, it was simply the perfect set of circumstances, all the right elements to cause the destruction that it did, and completely out of anyone's control.

So the next time you put fingers to the keyboard, see a rancher on the street, or watch or read something about this catastrophe, try to understand. We are hurting, some are lost, how do we rise from the ashes? Not by judging or being judged, not with the help of a government who has more important matters to take care of. By reaching out a hand and being what is needed. A word of encouragement, a little bit of acknowledgement, a hand that wants to help.

Jesus once said we are to love our neighbors as ourselves, it was like the first commandment to love the LORD our GOD. How are you showing love, for we are all neighbors in a great big ol' world.