The Cows are Dry
My husband knows how to get me. For the past several months he’s been able to procure raw cow’s milk for us. Having grown up on a farm with a milk cow, this is just about the best thing he’s ever done in my opinion. I still don’t like the chemical taste of pasteurized, homogenized milk. It makes me deeply happy each morning when I reach for the jug and have to shake it to reincorporate the cream. Mmmmm.
So this week–milk run week–he told me there wouldn’t be any. “Cows are dry,” he said.
I flashed back to childhood when the milk cow would go dry each year. We’d have to resort to store-bought milk. I carefully drained each spoonful of cereal, trying not to eat the horrid stuff. Noooooo.
Then it occurred to me. This is a dairy. All the cows couldn’t possibly go dry at once. I raised my head from hands and looked at my husband. There, a quirking about the lips. Yup. Messing with me.
But so what if he wasn’t? So what if I had to go a week or two drinking the milk I’ve been drinking for the past–well–since I was in high school and we sold the cow. How quickly we adjust to the good things in our lives. How quickly we learn to take things for granted.
Studies have shown that if you give an employee a raise, job satisfaction increases for a couple of weeks–the time it takes the employee to get used to the new salary. Regular praise and appreciation, however, keeps job satisfaction up over the long-term.
Which is why I need to remember to praise God daily. For real milk. For a good job and a nice house. For a fabulous husband and an awesome family. For health. For my salvation. I need to praise God and show my appreciation–not so much for His sake, but for my own. Because I need to be reminded not to take things for granted–whether it be a delicious glass of milk or eternity.