Sometimes I don’t make it around to church on Sundays. And while I used to feel guilty about it, I have come to realize that I actually do much more praying on the Sundays that I do miss church as opposed to the Sundays I’m in church.
And I always pray when I am helping my husband work cattle.
I pray the cattle will surrender themselves to our every command.
I pray they go into our shotty holding pens. And stay there until we are finished with them.
I pray that the ice cream truck will make a round in our neighborhood and give us an excuse to take a break.
I pray that I will live to see the ice cream truck again.
I pray that I am fast enough to close the sorting gates without being tossed 422.3 feet into the air when a wild cow decides to make a run for it.
I pray that my tremendous upper body strength will perform beyond its intended strength while I operate the headgate.