There have been occasions in which I've asked YHWH to please give me the strength He endowed upon Samson. Those were events in which, of course great strength was needed. I never held the usual perception of Samson. I didn't picture him to be some sort of power house or Mr. Universe kind of guy. I picture him to be sort a scrawny little odd ball, not so amazing in his physical appearance or in his "way with women . . ." I'm sort of like how I picture Samson, only the fluffy female version, in that I'm not a picture of physical perfection either, and I was just noticing in the last few months, how much harder it is to get the lids off jars and how much heavier the canner seems. So, what happened the other day has no other explanation, except the power of YHWH.
I went out early Sunday morning to make my chore rounds, as usual. "Everyone" greeted me as usual and were in their usual places enjoying their grazing. I let the chickens out, made sure everyone everyone had water and gave Azalea access to her hay for the day. Poor Azalea has to be fenced off from her hay for the night, as she will not even sleep to keep eating . . . I finished chores and came in to begin my day of publishing the Goshen Gazette.
One of the hay bales had toppled over, just since I'd made my rounds. I went out and to my horror, Velvet was not greeting me at the gate to tell me something had happened. I walked all around the pasture and timber calling her and realizing another goat, Nova, was also unaccounted for. My heart was truly sinking as I considered with dread, what may have occurred. Those bales weigh over a 1000 pounds and it wasn't 1/2 gone.
I headed toward the truck, hoping I'd be able to drag the hay bale and tried to prepare myself to face something I knew I did not want to see. Meanwhile, Mr. B. headed for the 4 wheeler. He said it would get better traction than the truck. I was good with that, as I tried not to think about the circumstances. The rope went around the bale but was placed to catch under the edge of the bale in one spot, as it became taut. As the 4 wheeler spun, that one lip of the bale lifted just enough that Nova sprang out of there like a Jack-in-the-box.
My arms literally flew in the air praising YHWH and thanking Him for that amazing miracle. This was a little pygmy goat under a big round bale of hay which was too heavy for the 4 wheeler to drag. This is no light weight 4 wheeler, either, it's a Yamaha Kodiak. As I moved closer to that bale, I became aware of my own claustrophobia and just cried out to YHWH that I didn't want Velvet to suffocate under that horrendous pressure and weight. YHWH saw my heart. I know she's getting older and I'm semi-prepared to face her final days, but I didn't want her to go that way.
I've had Velvet longer than any other goat on the place. Velvet lived at the other place, she moved with me! So many memories I have, include that silly little goat, and they began to flood my mind. I used her photo just this last week in my Sabbath greeting on Facebook.
The rope was still taut, keeping just a lip of that bale off the ground, enough to get my hands under it. I was so focused, I really didn't even realize what was happening. The next thing I knew, I had the west side of that bale propped up on my knees and my little Velvet had clearance to come out. She was drenched in her own sweat, panting, and very unstable in her stance, but she was alive!
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