This morning I got up with the sun to head off for my timekeeping duties at the local park run. It’s a wonderful venue at a family estate on the north bank of the Umkomaas river and the home of the East Coast Brewery. Made possible by the generosity of the family who own the estate and the dedication of the directors and volunteers. The estate has a lovely herd of Nduni cattle which is normally moved to adjacent pastures from where the run is held, early in the morning.

 

On arrival a distressed cow was held in the paddock trying to join the herd and a volunteer explained that she had just given birth to a calf who was being rescued from water. I was asked to assist in herding her back to the calf who was being rescued by the herdsman. Probably because I had a nice leather jacket on to keep me warm, jeans and takkies and looked like a semi cowboy.

I was a little nervous as I recalled a story we had shared as a family which described a cow that had just given birth and how their docile nature completely changed on such an occasion. So I entered the paddock , grabbed a large branch and began herding duties by bellowing a bark and making a show of the branch. The cow, who seemed in her prime and with horns capable of serious damage began wandering back to her calf but on more than one occasion looked at me with those big brown eyes with a daring glint before resuming her wanderings. Once she had ambled off far enough I stood to watch as she turned a few times to check on my whereabouts. I ambled back to my post and took up preparations for the race.

I had just planted the discovery banner at the start (Discovery health being a major sponsor) when I noticed my keys were missing. OOOPS. Not cool. So I reported to a Director and began meanderings again looking for keys in a muddy, grassy paddock reflecting on how unfair life can be and why does this happen to me? Well, truth be told there is hole in my jacket pocket that I have been meaning to mend for a while and in the excitement of the early morning events had placed my keys in that jolly pocket. Not that I was going to tell anyone. I started praying that I would find them. I had two searches and nearly abandoned hope due to the condition of the field when I got to the start of the race to begin timekeeping. Fellow volunteers were concerned; one reflected it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I responded I wouldn’t know as I haven’t tried. Towards the end of the race the last walkers were coming in and number 80 passed the line. I had been thinking of Plan B, contacting the owner, calling a friend to collect me and praying. I went through the scenes in my mind again. What I had done, where I had searched? The sequence of events in the herding. I remembered at one stage holding the branch high to salute the herdsman and bid a final farewell to the cow and decided to check again. I told the The Director I thought I know where they may be and she organised another volunteer to take up duties. So began a third long and slow search meander to the spot where I had bid farewell to the herdsman and cow. It did not take too much effort to find them. With great joy I held them up for another volunteer to see who had joined the search.

 

I returned to my duties and told the team that prayers had been answered and God be praised, my keys found. 88 participants came in, we packed up and made our way home. I do appreciate the Park Run movement. Such a good break from the hustle and bustle of life. Thanks again to all who make it possible!

 

Driving back (which was such a happy experience), reflecting on those events it struck me that the joy I felt was perhaps a little of what God feels when we turn to find Him. When we who are lost are found. I thought of the cow probably wanting to find her herd to get them to come and help her little calf or maybe just needing the solace and comfort of her kin. Me blocking the way. I trust the herdsman got them together and she was able to nourish her calf.