I had a friend who said she’d rather clean the barn than clean the house, any day. I agree. There’s something particularly satisfying about putting a well-used barn in order; sweeping it out and making it ready for the animals that need its shelter from the cold winter night.

As I finished up the 2 AM check on my lambing sheep, I was pulled by two voices. One familiar voice said I “should” do my chores and hurry back to the house. It’s the middle of the night, I should be in the house. A softer voice that came from somewhere gentler and deeper, invited me to sit in the warmth of that peaceful barn for a while. I sat down and listened to the ewes rustle around and munch on the hay I had helped water, cut, bale, and haul into the barn. I watched the new lambs gingerly mouth the hay, politely imitating their mothers. I listened to the throaty chuckles of the ewes reassuring their lambs. It was satisfying to see them so healthy and know they had everything they needed. They were safe from the dangers of a dark winter night.  

Eventually, the cold seeped through my Carhartts and I slowly stood up and headed for the house, but not without some sadness. I have learned to honor that deeper voice that gives permission and credence to what I already know is true, but I lost some time to the voice that shouted “should.”