Neck-Deep in Sacrifice

By Jacob Baker

Church Magazines

Photograph from Getty Images

On that frozen morning, I heard shouting and distressed moos in the distance behind me as I ran to get an axe and some rope.

OK, hold on—let’s back up for some context.

Two years before that snowy morning, my family had moved from suburbia to a tiny little plot of farmland in Missouri. Our new property had some forested land to explore and a small pond, which was nice, but I wasn’t a fan of all the animals that I was now expected to help take care of.

Now, back to that cold winter morning. We could tell there was a problem when one of our poor little cows didn’t come to his food dish at the regular time, even after we shook the food in a metal tin. They were trained to come running when we shook the tin. It seemed to be some sort of angelic summons to them, but the tactic didn’t work that morning.

We kept waiting and soon heard distressed moos off in the distance. We went to investigate and discovered that the cow had walked out into the middle of the frozen pond and had fallen in. The pond was only about five feet deep, but the cow was quite small and had to bounce on his hind legs to keep his head above the frigid water.

And that’s when the yelling started.

My parents directed me to run to our toolshed a quarter of a mile away and bring back an axe that we could use to break up the ice, as well as some rope. The moment I got back to the pond, we tried to use the rope to pull the cow out but quickly discovered a couple of things: one, none of us actually knew how to tie a lasso, and two, the only rope available was closer in strength and size to twine. It seemed to me that our little cow was a goner.

My dad and mom really cared about that cow, so my dad led the charge, axe in hand, and they started to literally chop their way through the ice towards the cow, clearing a 20-foot-long path for the cow to walk out of the pond. Everyone was worried that either the cow would kick my dad or that my dad would accidentally hit the cow with the axe, but somehow the crazy plan worked. The cow didn’t drown!

But the worry wasn’t over. As soon as the cow got out of the water, he started shivering like an old washing machine on spin cycle. My parents were freezing too, but they were more worried about the cow. My dad ran to get a campfire started in the middle of the field while my mom ran to get some quilts. Us kids corralled the cow close to the fire so that he wouldn’t run away. Soon, he warmed up enough to stop shivering and eat some of his hard-won breakfast.

I can’t say that I learned to love our farm animals after that wintry day, but I did learn about the meaning of sacrifice in the face of adversity. Making sacrifices is, by definition, never convenient, but I learned that true sacrifice is downright difficult and painful. When you sacrifice for others, the pain you go through is always worth it. Perhaps Jesus Christ thought as much when He was about to be born so He could sacrifice Himself for all of God’s children. His love for us was and is stronger than the pain he had to endure for us.

Now that I’ve experienced sacrifice for a freezing, drowning cow, the Christmas season reminds me how much love our Savior has for us and how much He has sacrificed for our sakes.