3 Things I Learned From An Ox
Throughout Scripture we’re compared to sheep.
Hardly ever to oxen.
You may not mind being compared to a cute, cuddly sheep.
But an ox?
Um, no.
Honestly, until I dived into “AI” I assumed oxen were cousins of cows.
Wrong.
They’re not cousins.
An ox is a cow.
A castrated adult male cow.
Now who wants to be compared to an ox?
I didn’t.
Until I beheld the beauty there . . .
Jesus never declares, “You are like an ox!”
But He does pretty much say, “Act like one.”
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me . . .
(Matthew 11:29 ESV)
Ox is implied.
Making me wonder if Jesus is grinning to Himself here.
Recalling ancient “yoke talk” from an Old Testament prophet.
I led them with cords of kindness,
with bands of love,
I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws,
and I bent down and fed them.
(Hosea 11:4 ESV)
Once again, ox is implied.
Fearing we might miss the implication, The Living Bible paraphrases Hosea.
“As a man leads his favorite ox . . .”
Being compared to any old ox might be off-putting.
But a favorite ox?
Much better.
Coincidentally, or maybe not, I find myself daydreaming with an ox this week.
On my side of the fence.
At the Lowcountry Zoo at Brookgreen.
Their ox is really quite magnificent.
Inspired by Hosea, my daydreaming begins . . .
A farmer calls to his favorite ox in the misty dawn.
The ox’s ears twitch.
He throws his head, lows, and lumbers over to the farmer.
Who gently tethers bands of love around his neck.
Not to restrict, but to guide and keep him close in the field.
I imagine the ox leaning in, nuzzling the farmer.
Breathing moist warm ox breath into his face.
“AI” notes oxen are known to form strong bonds of affection to their handlers.
Who knew?
Then into the field they head.
Working together.
Row by row.
Accomplishing the farmer’s plans and purposes.
The ox never lifts his eyes from the ground he trods.
Small picture.
The farmer lifts his eyes to the field and beyond.
Big picture.
At noon they rest.
The farmer stoops down to feed his ox.
Nose to nose.
Eye to eye.
Leaning in, closer still, the farmer whispers tender words into those velvety ears.
At dusk they turn to survey the field behind them.
To chat about the day.
Not as the ox experienced it.
Small picture.
But as the farmer saw it.
Big picture.
Circling back to Jesus.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me . . .
Daydreaming at the fence, I got into the ox’s head.
Beheld a life defined by his relationship to the farmer.
Sensed what it might feel like to act like an ox.
Taking the Farmer’s yoke upon me to learn from Him.
And made a list . . .
3 Things I Learned From An Ox
- It’s not your job to judge the field or make the plan.
- It is your job to accept the field and trust God’s plan.
- It should be your habit and joy to walk gently with God through your noisy world, listening along the way for whispers of correction, encouragement, and love in your velvety ears.
For you are His favorite ox.
See you in a couple weeks.
Love,
Beautiful and insightful, Cindy! In PraiseMoves we have a posture for the Hebrew Alphabetic – Alef – the first letter of the alphabet that means the Ox. These postures resemble the symbols for each letter displayed at the beginning of each section of Psalm 119. Love your thoughts on an Ox especially gleaned from being at Brookgreen🤗!
The very first letter – how fascinating! I was delighted to see you at Brookgreen. Thank you for your sweet help. Next time I see you please show me that posture.
I DO want to be an Ox!! Thank you so much for making me realize that ❤️
Maybe not the male castration part . . .!
Definitely never considered wanting to be a ox, but….moooooo!
I think most oxen work real hard, but not so much the ones at Brookgreen. Every time I go by there they’re eating! I suppose it takes a lot of fuel to power those big bodies.
Mooo! 💕🐮
Moooo . . . haha. They have a very deep moo!
Oh wow, Cindy! Beautiful insight and loving words. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with your readers. I know you are a favorite ox❤️🙏🏻
I believe we are all His favorite ox!
So stinking cute!! I’m seeing oxen in a whole new loving light. Thanks for that!
Me too! I don’t mind being an ox at all.
Cindy didn’t know about the ox till now . Bless you Always for you insight . I love this ! Love ❤️
I didn’t either. So fascinating.
You have provided a whole new way to look at an ox – and am going to always remember the three things you learned from an ox. Thanks for pointing these things out!
The oxen at Brookgreen are huge . . . and beautiful . . . and gentle. At least they look gentle from my side of the fence. I love to watch them.
Thank you, Cindy!
You’re so welcome – hope to see you soon!
When we lived in Williamsburg and worked at Colonial Williamsburg our children were small. We spent a lot of time following the Coach and Livestock folks around. They had a team of oxen named Whalen and Willie. Clearly someone on staff was a music fan and named the team accordingly. They were gentle giants that pulled a cart children could ride in. Your post this week reminded me of those times gone by. Thank you, friend!
Gentle giants . . . so beautiful! I’d like to pet the ones at BG, but I’m a little afraid. Which is probably a healthy fear!