J.D.

Wininger

Most Americans have an Individual Retirement Account (IRA) or 401K plan. A lucky few have work-sponsored pensions. Almost all working U.S. citizens pay into Social Security and Medicare programs our entire working life. Others make shrewd private investments and diversify stock portfolios to build up individual wealth. We use these tools and tactics to fund our future. A future when we no longer earn a living by applying our trade in return for income. The word most associated with savings and investing is security. I’ve often wondered, what is so secure about a monetary system that fluctuates wildly, and is subject to winds of change and the whimsy of man?

Gold or silver is the basis for monetary systems of most nations. Governments print currency (paper money and coins) backed by those precious metals. At its core, money is nothing more than a bartering tool. We trade our time, energy, and talent for some amount of currency. We then use that currency to fund our lives and save for our future. Money also helps others through humanitarian efforts. In all cases, we exchange money for needed, or desired, goods and services.

Have you ever stopped to consider what investments you make into your Spiritual Retirement Account (SRA) each day? These investments are most important for your long-term security and are guaranteed never to spoil, rust, or decrease in value. We store our SRA investments as treasures in heaven. What do SRA investments look like? How does someone make a deposit? We find the answer in

Smokey is tall at 17 hands (68 inches), lean and muscular, and as wild as the day is long. For several years my friend’s horse has bullied other horses, cattle, and people with his willful attitude. I’ve come to understand just how much my life had in common with Smokey. I watched him on cool mornings shaking his head, stomping his feet, and taking off in a full run. Often, I mused he was feeling his oats, enjoying his unrestrained life. In my heart, I knew he was expressing his dislike of being restricted by the pasture’s fence. 

Realizing that while Smokey is beautiful, strong, and fast, he is also wild and undisciplined. As such, worthless to his owner. He can’t be ridden and adds nothing more than perhaps some aesthetic value. Essentially, he exists but has no real value in, or makes no real contribution to, the world. I considered how I was before finding God. I too was headstrong, prideful, fiercely independent, and of little or no value to anyone else or myself. Sad to say there are still some of those traits in me today. But I am a work in progress and learning to surrender myself to God more with each passing year.

Christians must surrender themselves to God before they can become truly useful to Him. By surrender, I mean each of us must die to ourselves, our flesh. We must take on the characteristics of being a Christian that Jesus Christ exhibited. The term used in the horse world is called “breaking” a horse. The horse has to relinquish control of his own will and submit to the trainer. We humans must also learn to submit to the will of our Father. 

A great horse trainer I’ve known for years is my brother-in-law Mark. Mark once told me, “Training a horse, donkey, or any member of the equine family is less about imposing your will on the animal and more about reaching an understanding so the animal will delight in serving its master.” I took what he said to mean as being broken isn’t a physical state, it’s a mental state based on trust. I don’t give up; I give in, trusting I will get more in return when I am doing my master’s will. 

Realizing God hasn’t made me His slave; His love, grace, and mercy helped me reach a point in my Christian walk where I submit to His will and dominion over my life. I surrender my will to God so I may become more useful in His kingdom. To accomplish this, I must die to self and live for Christ. The apostle Paul stated this idea clearly in

On April 30, 2017, God blessed our little homestead with the first calf born on this property. We named the beautiful little gal Uno, Italian for one. As you might imagine, I was one nervous fella waiting for my first-time heifer to deliver. I had my vet on call, texting him throughout the day. I called my friends Donnie and Gary multiple times to ask questions. Then, about 5:30 pm, Frances delivered in less than three hours of labor. While she tended her baby, I watched from afar as other expectant mothers gathered round to investigate.

After 20 minutes, the little calf made it to her feet and took her first wobbly steps. You can imagine the joy and elation I expressed to God in that moment. I am certain neighbors who drove down the dusty gravel road we live on must have thought I lost my mind. I stood in the middle of my driveway, arms and eyes raised to heaven, praising Abba for His blessing.

One proud Grandpa, I thought all was going well; asking everyone to come over and admire my calf. Two days later, mama was lying with the other cows and her calf was nowhere to be found. I’ve seen mamas put their calves down and hide them while they feed, rest, and recover. After six hours of not seeing the calf, I began to worry.

I imagined coyotes. I wondered if the calf had gotten the needed colostrum. In my worry, Satan sneaked into my thoughts. I convinced myself the little calf was lying dead or dying out in the tall rye grass and clover — abandoned to die alone. Filled with rage, I told myself if the mama cow had done that; she was going to the auction this week. There’s no place for a poor mother in my herd.

As I drove back and forth across my pasture, I leaned out over the front of the ATV trying to spot the calf (I had cataracts in both eyes). I asked God why He allowed this calf to die. What did I do that didn’t honor You, Father? When and where did I fail you? Why would you punish me by letting this calf die? I knew in my heart, God does nothing to harm His children and brings good from every situation if we submit to His leading. I uttered these questions because in even the most mature Christians; we remain human. Satan often attacks our vulnerabilities using our inherent human nature.

After a lengthy search — driving slowly through the tall grass to not run over the calf — I found her doing exactly what mama had prodded her to do. Lay there camouflaged and be still until she returned. The Holy Spirit then convicted me of my crisis of faith. I kneeled beside the little calf and thanked God for His faithfulness. I begged Him to help me grow stronger in my faith.

Amid my prayer, I heard the recognizable still voice in my heart;