Our Rural Roots
Because We Prayed
When the wind was blowing at 60-plus miles per hour at 7 a.m., I knew we were in for a long day. I instantly thought of that awful March a few years ago when fires came to the Texas Panhandle, and three cattlemen and women lost their lives. I tried to put those menacing memories out of my mind and go on with my day.
So, that afternoon when my husband called to tell me there was a fire headed for our pasture and that we needed to move the cows, it was the last thing I wanted to hear.
I grabbed the kids, and we ran out the front door, straight into a brown sky and the strong smell of smoke. We loaded a bag of cattle cake (because you better believe our two toddlers have cake-trained our cows!) Before we pulled out of the driveway, I stopped the vehicle to pray that the winds would calm down, the fire would stop and all of the people and animals would be safe. The kids said an "amen" in unison. I honestly can't remember if I said it or not.
After that, the chaos began. In the end, some 2,400 acres of rangeland had burned. We were fortunate in that the destruction somehow missed our place. The wind shifted, and the fire turned about 100 yards from our fence. Everyone -- ranchers, volunteer firemen and livestock -- were protected, and no lives were lost.
Several days later, we loaded up to go check cows. When we arrived, and my daughter saw the neighbor's charred grass pasture, she asked, "Mama, did any cows die in the fire?" My son instantly responded, "No, because we prayed."
It was such a simple reminder of the beauty of childlike faith. It also made me wonder, what else in my life has been blessed by such a simple answer ... because we prayed?
Editor's Note: Tiffany Dowell Lashmet balances ranch life, children and a career in ag law from the Texas Panhandle. Follow her blog at alwaysafarmkid.com and her on Instagram at alwaysafarmkid and on Twitter @TiffDowell.
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