Seared Beef

You ever have a smell drift by and, before you know it, you’ve traveled thirty years back in time?

Certain perfumes remind me of my mom. The smell of homemade biscuits takes me straight back to my grandmother’s kitchen. And the smell of a dead cat reminds me of a favorite pair of boots I once owned.

That last one is probably a story for another day.

But there is one smell I will never forget as long as the Lord leaves breath in my body.

Seared and swollen dead cow.

Years ago, I was working on a farm, and part of my morning routine was making a loop around the place. I’d check the fence lines, make sure a tree hadn’t fallen across one, look over the cattle, check the horses, and generally make sure nothing had happened overnight that was going to ruin my day.

One summer morning, I was making my rounds when I noticed something under a group of trees that just didn’t look right.

There she was. A big ol’ Black Angus cow, swollen up like somebody had hooked an air compressor to her, all four legs sticking straight toward heaven.

Now, a couple days earlier we’d had one awful lightning storm. Apparently ol’ Moo-Moo had been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught a ride on the lightning, and lost.

Somehow I had missed her the day before, and summertime is not kind to a dead cow. By the time I found her, she was stiff, swollen, and had developed an aroma all her own.

I called the folks I worked for and told them what had happened. They said, “Take a couple pictures for the insurance company and bury her.” No problem.

Or so I thought.

The tractor with the bucket was being worked on, so I didn’t have a good way to dig a hole. But I remembered there was a little cliff up in the wooded part of the farm, maybe 150-200 feet uphill from where the cow was lying. There was a gate there.

That is when I had an idea. Some of my worst days have started with those words.

I figured I’d get the little dozer, ease the blade underneath that cow, push her up the hill through a gate into a wooded area, shove her over the little ledge, cover her with some dirt, and life would be good.

I climbed on the dozer, eased up behind that cow, lowered the blade carefully so I wouldn’t tear up the field, and started pushing.

Everything went according to plan for approximately twenty feet.

Did I mention that cow was swollen? Well, she wasn’t swollen long. Somewhere between where she died and where I wanted her buried, something punctured. She popped like opening canned biscuits.

And friends, what came out of that cow should have required a hazmat permit.

My eyes were watering. I was gagging. I was trying to drive a dozer while holding my breath, which I discovered is harder than it sounds.

Every sensible part of my brain was screaming, “RUN!” But I couldn’t. I had a job to finish. If I stopped it was only going to get worse.

There wasn’t any easy way out. There wasn’t a pleasant way out. I couldn’t leave a half-exploded cow lying in the middle of the field and go tell the boss I had decided to pursue other opportunities.

So I gritted my teeth, pushed that cow the rest of the way up the hill, got her over the ledge, pushed enough dirt over her to finish the job, and got out of there as fast as that little dozer would carry me.

I went home and showered for about an hour. I may have needed counseling.

A few days later, though, I heard something funny. A fellow lived a little piece down the road from the farm, and apparently he had been complaining to one of the neighbors.

He said, “I sure wish they’d quit spreading that chicken manure over there. Me and my wife haven’t hardly been able to sleep for the smell.”

I just smiled. I didn't have the heart to tell him. That ain’t yard bird excrement, my friend. That’s not-so-prime Black Angus.

Sometimes the road you need to travel isn’t the road you would choose

Jesus said: “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction... For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life.” Matthew 7:13–14

We live in a world that tells us the best road is the easiest road. If it hurts, quit.

If people disagree with you, change. If obedience costs you something, find another interpretation. If following Jesus becomes uncomfortable, look for an easier version of Christianity.

But Jesus never advertised the Christian life as the easy road.

He called it the "narrow road".

The narrow road means there will be times when obedience is hard. There will be things we have to walk through that we'd rather go around. There will be moments when following Christ costs us comfort, popularity, relationships, money, opportunities, and sometimes much more. We just want to get off the dozer you might say.

The Apostle Paul knew something about that road. He wrote about being beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, robbed, hungry, thirsty, cold, exhausted, and in danger. Yet after listing all those hardships, he said: "And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches.” 2 Corinthians 11:28

Paul kept going.

Why?

Because Jesus was worth more than an easy life.

Paul understood that the goal wasn't comfort. The goal was Christ.

That's why Romans 13:14 tells us: “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Every hard mile on the narrow road gives us another opportunity to become more like the One we're following.

When somebody hurts us, we learn forgiveness. When we're afraid, we learn faith.

When we don't know what to do, we learn dependence. When obedience costs us something, we learn surrender. When we don't think we can take another step, we discover the strength of the Holy Spirit is greater than our own.

Christianity isn't gritting your teeth and trying harder to be a better person. It is Christ living in us, the Holy Spirit strengthening us, the Word directing us, and God's grace carrying us when our own strength isn't enough.

The broad road is crowded because it's easy to walk.

Just follow your feelings.

Follow the crowd.

Follow the world.

Follow yourself.

But the narrow road requires something different. Follow Jesus.

And sometimes following Jesus means continuing forward when everything in you wants to jump off or turn around. I didn't enjoy pushing that dead cow up that hill. There wasn't one moment when I thought, You know, this is really building character. I just knew there was a job that needed finishing.

And there are days in the Christian life when that's about where we are.

“Lord, I don't like this.” Keep walking.

“Lord, this hurts.” Keep trusting.

“Lord, I don't understand.” Keep following.

“Lord, everybody else seems to be taking an easier road.” Keep your eyes on Jesus.

Because the easy road and the right road aren't always the same road.

I'd rather struggle down the narrow road with Jesus than coast down the broad road without Him.

And if something along the way gets hard and you want to quit chasing God, just remind yourself before you make any big decisions that most of the time in ourselves, we don't know the difference between chicken manure and cooked beef.