Roscoe is looking a little bedraggled these windy Spring days.
He’s got mud on his shoulder.
He’s got mud on his ankles.
He’s got mud on one of his ears, and he’s shaggy. His winter coat is still in, rough and curly, and it hasn’t yet begun to shed in clumps, the way it will when warm weather finally gets here.
But you know, Roscoe doesn’t care.
He browses the grasses coming up in the pasture, he does his very best to stay out of Sugar’s way—because she has a clear sense of boundaries—and he lives his life as a mule unapologetically.
And I’m grateful for the lessons he teaches me.
How to be who I am, without trying to be someone I’m not.
To learn how to do what I need to do every day, without worrying about all I can’t get done. Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise, tomorrow is another day, and I can get back out and work at what is unfinished then.
How to look for joy every day.
And, how not to worry about what I look like. A little mud on the leg of my jeans doesn’t really matter a hill of beans to anybody, in the long run.
I’m trying to remember what Jesus said, to “…stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6.34).
Maybe I’ll just try to spend more time in the pasture with Roscoe this week.
Blessings,
Vickie
** used by permission from Vickie’s Facebook page – Photo credits – Vickie Woolard