Throughout the brown months in northeastern Kansas, we keep our gaited geldings, Earl and Jazz, in their quarter acre paddock. After a few months of their hard-hooved plodding about and milling around the round bale feeder, there’s nothing green there except for a few sprouts of burdock, milkweed, and dandelion. All else is bare dirt. Or mud, after the rains.

Fortunately, we’re able to move them back over to pasture each day now. It’s pretty easy to detect their anticipation of that ritual when we halter them up each morning. Heads up, ears tilted forward, walking willfully toward the gate. Sometimes, they’ll drop their heads and start grazing as soon as we turn them loose in the pasture. Other times, they’ll charge off in a full gallop and run to the other side of the before they start eating. In every case, it’s clear that they love the opportunity to forage in the lush green grass. Randa and I will sometimes shake our heads and grin at each other over how the boys react.

I’m pretty sure our heavenly Father enjoys seeing us when we have that sort of expectation about feeding on his Word, nourishing our souls in the fellowship of prayer, delighting in our adoration of him. In every season, the Lord draws near to those who draw near to him.