My son Caleb collects goat skulls. Not baseball cards, or stamps or bugs. Goat skulls. Of course, this kind of thing can only last as long as there are skulls to be found on our property – and already, the number of them that we bring home from our walks has reduced to a trickle. But on longer walks during this past fall and winter, his arms became so full of them that he could hardly walk. At times, we found so many that we had to leave some behind, and he would implore me, as only a 4 year old can implore, to help. But if I made it policy to carry home all the things my three kids find on our nature walks, I would need a truck…which of course defeats the purpose of taking a walk.
As the skulls started to pile up in our yard, we began using them to decorate the flower garden beside our house. Needless to say, it gets a few sideways glances from our guests.
Apparently, a few years ago, goats had their run of this place. At least the ones that didn’t get eaten by coyotes, or freeze to death, or die of disease. One look at our flower garden will reveal that this was rather a lot of them. You see, from what I’ve heard tell, goats are hard to keep alive. (Kinda like chickens.) They’re also escape artists, and as such I imagine them holding clandestine meetings, digging elaborate tunnels, daily plotting their path to freedom.
All of this makes it very difficult to run a successful goat farm. You don’t see or hear of many goat farms do you? You’ll often see goats on a farm, but you don’t often see a farm full of goats.
Like these goats, the boys at Whetstone will be susceptible to attack from all directions. Many of them will have lived without sufficient shelter for most of their lives. Some will have been runaways and prodigals. They’ll need constant care and attention to fight off the diseases that attack from within and without. And we can’t be successful with large numbers, all at once.
Please pray for the boys and families that will find Whetstone…and that Whetstone won’t have to pick up any skulls.