The farmer recounted how his cows behaved when he put up a new gate:
“Mooo, that’s not been here before…Must turn around.”
He described how they shift, shake their heads and moo. Some turn and wander away. Some stand before it paralyzed.
That very gate may be the way to greener pastures and lush surroundings. That single gate may be what stands between the thirsty cow and a fresh watering hole. But the cow stares at the gate–half confused, half offended–and seems to think, “Moo, moo…that doesn’t belong here. I’m just gonna turn around and go back, or stand here and stare at it.”
We often act like cows at new gates.
What we really long for is just on the other side of something new and unfamiliar, but we often forfeit what we really desire because to get there means we have to face what is new and unfamiliar. It feels entirely too risky. However, gates are not barriers unless you are unwilling to open them and pass through.
