Boundary Lines

“The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance” (Ps. 16:6).

Sometimes we don’t recognize a good thing until it knocks us – WHAM! – right off our feet!

At least I don’t.

Perhaps it’s because we can be slow learners.

Perhaps it’s because we’re stubborn.

My husband recently spent countless hours planning our property’s fence line — its boundaries, the type of wire to use, the voltage to be emitted. He researched. Planned. Consulted. And planned some more.

What we now have is a secure fence line that is solar-power generated. Yes – sun-powered!

And its power is good for keeping our animals safe.

Recently we decided to introduce our male goats, Abraham and Isaac, to broader pasture – allowing them to venture beyond the small barnyard where they’d been sharing space with our other animals. We thought this would be to their delight – virtually offering them a wide world of grass and brush to eat, not to mention abundant acres to explore and mark as their own.

Yet, much to our dismay, when we opened the gate and beckoned them to step across into this new domain, they refused at first – choosing instead to eat the grass on the familiar side, as if mocking us in our efforts to offer them more.

We coaxed and coerced – using a variety of enticements in our attempt to get them into this broader pastureland. It was, after all, for their good. For their pleasure even.

We knew this. Why didn’t they?

Still they lingered, hesitantly. Stubbornly. Immovably. Until finally – with sweet feed in a bucket and held out before them – they inched their way, first one and then the other, through the gate and into new territory.

No harm done. Only good.

Safe within broad boundary lines, “Abe” and “Sir ‘Isaac’ Neutered” (Shhh! He doesn’t know!), now have ample room to feast. The grass is green and abundant. The brush is brambly, thick.

Instead, they stick close to the barn – venturing out, and never very far, only when the sun sits low in the sky.

“Go! Go!” I urge them.

Still, they stay – stubbornly choosing the familiar, limited space rather than the unfamiliar and spacious.

And, day by day, they unknowingly teach me more about my Father – about His lavish, extraordinary, wild (though always safe) love for me.

After all, His plans are to prosper and not harm me, to give me a future and a hope (Jer. 29:11)… to restore my soul as He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake (Ps. 23:3).

Clearly, I have nothing to fear.

And yet I do.

Yes, I’m a slow learner.

The freedom I’ve been given – the inheritance within good and safe boundaries– is too often rejected, and I fail to taste of its pleasures because I’m content to dwell on the side of the familiar rather than explore the possibilities He offers – even if, at first, unfamiliar.

Perhaps I need a jolt from the Son’s power – knocked off my feet and into His arms – to discover that what He gives is always and only for my good…

For my pleasure…

For my safety…

For my joy.

“Yes, you will go out with joy, you will be led forth in peace…” (Is. 55:12)