Ranch Roots

I have lived in the city for the last 20 years. During this time I have adapted to city life-- the ease of shopping, going out to eat, dealing with traffic and neighbors. Working on a college campus around young adults, I am aware of the current fashions, trends and issues. Yet, even surrounded by these influences, my foundational outlook on life harks back to being raised on a Wyoming ranch during my growing up years and our experiences with my husband's ranching family since my marriage.

The living room decor in our city home clearly reflects this ranch heritage.  Above the fireplace is a trio of pictures: three Hereford calves sunning themselves; a rider on horseback navigating a rocky path in the canyon; a mare and her colt. These were drawn by an artist we knew as a high school student just playing with his talent.  Now he is a professional and these pencil drawings clearly illustrate his talent for depicting ranch life. Flanking the fireplace are a horse collar, stirrups from my husband's saddles as a child and young man, a bit, and an old tin replica of a Stetson hat box filled with rattles our son collected from the rattlesnakes he killed as a teenager.   Propped against the wall is ladder with decorative throws from Wyoming and Colorado Cowbelles edged with brands of local ranches, including our families' brands.  On the lower rungs we have hung a horseshoe, hay hook, foot nippers, a bit, and part of a horse harness.  On another wall we have pictures of our fathers both on horseback, my grandfather on a horse he sold to the US Calvary, my mother-in-law with her horse she roped calves from as a young woman, and our son holding his six-week-old son on his favorite horse.  A deer antler from the ranch holds a Mexican riata our son gave my husband one Christmas and a spur. Pictures of our three grandsons in their cowboy hats sit on the bookshelf.  Lamps made of gnarled tree roots found on the ranch sit on the end tables. Our son and daughter found the wood and made the lamps when they were in junior high shop class. A basket fashioned out of a lariat holds an African violet on the coffee table and an Indian blanket is draped over the back of the couch.  Ranch memorabilia abounds throughout the house, but these are just surface indicators of the impact this way of life has had on me. 

Life on the ranch grounded me in reality because life is lived so close to the natural rhythms of life.  Animals are born, thrive and multiply, but they also get sick or hurt or die.  The first thing our six-year-old grandson asks when a new calf is born is, "Is it alive?" because he realizes that is the first and most important factor.  The snow and rain come and the grass grows to feed the cattle, or drought stunts the grass and animals must be sold or extra money invested to buy feed.  You realize that you are not in control, you cannot make it rain. There is no set paycheck coming each month and unexpected expenses are common--a vet call, a broken-down piece of machinery, a flat tire.  These realities cause me to look to the one who created all of this, including me and to trust him for the outcome.  This is equally true in the city or on the ranch, but in the city it is easier to forget how dependent we are on God's gracious provision.