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“The times we find ourselves having to wait on others may be the perfect opportunities to train ourselves to wait on the Lord.”
—Joni Eareckson Tada, an evangelical Christian, author, radio host, and founder of Joni and Friends, an organization "accelerating Christian ministry in the disability community."
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FIVE DAYS LATER, JILL and Logan had toured everything they’d wanted to see in northern Ireland. The three mornings of cooking classes they’d taken at Tara-House had been incredibly fun. Together, they’d learned to make all kinds of Irish food, including a round loaf of bread called Irish Bannock, Boxty Pancakes, Glazed Irish Breakfast Tea Madeleines, Potato Bread, Irish Fruit Crisp, Irish breakfast scones, and a skillet breakfast. Then they’d learned to make a traditional Irish lunch called Colcannon—made from mashed potatoes, boiled cabbage, bacon, onions, butter, and topped with bread crumbs.
The instructor gave each of the students in her classes a small book containing copies of each of the recipes they’d learned along with a few others. Jill liked the book so much, she purchased extra for Sadie, Aunt Meredith, Mrs. Wright, and her mom. They’d found miniature replicas of the lighthouse they’d toured in Donegal for the boys, the wranglers, Corky, and Logan’s dad, Jack.
They’d also enjoyed long romantic walks on the grounds, a drive to a northern beach, more swimming, fine dining in the mansion’s dining room, and plenty of writing time. Five days seemed to fly by and soon it was time to make the drive to Dublin for the final leg of their honeymoon.
“Stop the car, Logan!” Jill hollered as they traveled over country roads which would eventually lead toward a main highway. He wasn’t speeding, but as he drove around a bend, there was definitely a sudden obstacle awaiting them.
Logan—mildly distracted by the beautiful meadows and pastures of the countryside—slammed on the brakes in time to avoid a collision. The royal blue Mercedes came to a screeching halt about seven feet in front of a number of lingering cows, one in particular resting patiently in the middle of the road while his owner tried to persuade them all to cross.
“Sorry, hon, I know that was a close call,” he admitted. “I only glanced away for a moment.”
“It’s all right. No harm done. At least there doesn’t seem to be much traffic today.” Jill relaxed and took in the scene before them.
At first, they waited with long-suffering for the farmer to move the cows along. The research they’d done about driving on the country roads in Ireland had recommended not honking or trying to rush farmers along if one encountered them. So they waited.
“Jill, I don’t think this farmer is having much success with moving his cows.” Logan stared at the farmer tending the herd.
She studied the situation. The cow, straight ahead, just lay there in the middle of the road. Occasionally, she swished her tail and turned to look at them, sometimes blinking her eyes. It looked to her as though the cow had even winked at them as she waited on the rest of the herd in front of her to move forward. Well, at least Jill thought the cow was a girl. The farmer kept trying to push other cows out of the culvert on the left, and they couldn’t move the car around to pass on the right due to the presence of a long, low stone wall; although the entire herd had easily passed through a narrow opening in the wall to cross the road. If only the farmer didn’t have a traffic jam of cows becoming stuck in the culvert.
“You know, I kinda think you’re right. There are at least seven or more cows stuck in that drainage tunnel. Almost every time he rescues one up and into the meadow, two more seem to go back down into the culvert. The farmer hasn’t looked in our direction but once, and I think it’s because he’s so busy trying to get them to move forward. Something tells me we’re in for a long stop if he doesn’t find a more efficient way to move these cows.” Jill sighed and drank some of the spring water from her water bottle.
“You see that cow right there, the big one with his nose in all those purple thistle flowers?” Logan pointed to a cow in the culvert eating flowers growing along the edge of it.
“Yes,” she nodded.
“That’s the lead cow. See how they all follow along, jamming up the tunnel behind him? These cows will follow whatever that cow does and Mr. Irish Farmer here knows it. Notice how he keeps coming back to argue with him. Then he gives up and goes to some of the others, but he always comes back to that cow.” Logan had summed up the situation perfectly.
“I guess the lead cow really likes purple thistle flowers. Must be his morning snack.” Jill couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head.
“You think I should try to help the farmer push and prod these cows along?” Logan eyed the farmer’s plight.
“No, I read somewhere we should be patient in rural areas like these because some farmers might not take kindly to strangers interfering.” She reached for a book to read from her colorful pink and orange striped travel bag. She rummaged around inside the tote bag until she found the book she wanted, removed her favorite Michael Kors sunglasses, and opened to where her bookmark held her last read spot.
“How long do you think before more cars pile up behind us?” he asked a few minutes later.
“Long-suffering, dear,” Jill reminded her husband as she turned a page of The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith. “Try to be long-suffering.”
“If he’d only try to move this cow blocking the road to join the others closer to the culvert, we could be on our way.” Logan looked at his watch impatiently.
“A thoughtful sentiment, indeed.” Jill giggled and Logan turned to look at her and rolled his eyes, a slight grin at the corners of his mouth. At least he seemed to be taking the delay in stride and keeping his humor in place.
“What’s your rush, darling?” she asked in her sweetest voice. “We’re early enough to make our check-in time even if this takes a while.”
“It’s definitely going to take a while at this rate!” Logan ran a hand through his hair, something he did whenever he was mildly frustrated. His patience had grown thin. He sighed before adding, “I suppose you’re right. The Lord spoke to us through our encounter with Herb and Bonnie about not being so easily offended and being forgiving. It makes sense that He’d use this cow to teach us about long-suffering and patience.”
“It does seem He wants to give us these lessons while we’re here in Ireland. Do you think we’re being tested?” She set the book down in her lap and glanced over at the farmer to see if he’d made any progress.
“I have no idea, but I’m practicing.” He took a sip of coffee from his to-go cup he’d filled at the coffee station in the foyer at Tara-House when they’d loaded their suitcases and travel bags into the car.
“Practicing what?” She looked at him with a wondering look, the sunlight bringing out the gold in the golden-brown curls framing her face. “Being tested?”
“No. Long-suffering. I’m practicing suffering long.” Logan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Jill giggled again and looked out the window on her left. It still seemed odd to her that the driver and steering wheel were positioned on her right in vehicles in the U.K. She didn’t think she’d adapt and hadn’t asked to try out driving yet.
“So, tell me again, what’s on the agenda for today, if we ever make it to Dublin, that is?” He glanced up at the cow still sitting in the middle of the road, her legs tucked under her, oblivious to what she was doing to his blood pressure or their timetable. Animals had a mind of their own—and didn’t he know it from owning a ranch in the middle of Wyoming?
Jill fished through her Dooney and Bourke Florentine Bristol Satchel leather purse in a shade of natural tan to match her ankle boots. She produced their itinerary and began reading to him. “We’re checking in this afternoon at Luttrellstown Castle Resort and staying in the Duchess of Cumberland room with a spectacular view of the courtyard and surrounding gardens.”
“Not if this cow doesn’t move,” he cajoled. “This is the castle where Queen Victoria visited, right?”
She looked up from the itinerary to glance at the cow and then her husband. “Patience, my love. Right. She was a guest in 1849 and 1900. Prince Rainier and Princess Grace, Ronald Reagan, and Fred Astaire were also guests there. And oh, David and Victoria Beckham were married there.”
“A Spice Girl and royalty have stayed there? Are you sure we can we afford this?” Logan raised an eyebrow.
“This is all part of the wonderful package deal we purchased from a travel agency who regularly sends us some of our best clients,” she reminded him before sipping more of her spring water.
“Ah, of course, I remember now. I started to worry it wasn’t included in what we’ve already paid for. I guess I’m just distracted.” His knuckles were turning white from clutching the steering wheel.
“Perfectly understandable, dear.” Jill continued reading the description of the castle to him, being careful to speak in soft tones when she noticed him clenching the wheel. “The castle dates back to medieval times, but most believe Sir Henry Luttrell seized the property in 1436. The Luttrells owned the estate until 1811. The castle has been updated to the comfortable estate it is today and has a lovely blend of Tudor and Gothic features. There is a courtyard, walled gardens, parkland, a golf course, horseback riding, and a lake.”
“It sounds really nice. Is it going to be dark and drab like some castles?” Logan loosened his grip on the wheel and swirled his coffee cup to stir his coffee.
“No, this one has gorgeous windows and many light and airy rooms. I looked at the website before choosing our room. We have a beautiful room with a four-poster bed, a vanity, an amazing writing desk, and windows. It’s going to be the highlight of our stay in Ireland, I’m sure.” She smiled just thinking about it.
“And this is where we go to see St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin and Trinity College, right?” he asked.
“Yep.” She looked down, continuing to read from the itinerary. “It says here that Trinity is the oldest university in Ireland. The library’s Long Room is a vast hall holding over two-hundred thousand books and fourteen marble busts under a barrel-vaulted ceiling. Plus there are lovely buildings and green lawns there.”
“What’s it say about the cathedral?”
“Gothic archways, stained glass windows, medieval flags, and a vibrant tiled floor.” She tucked the itinerary back in her purse.
“I think I’m getting hungry.” Logan looked at his watch.
Jill laughed. “You’re always hungry.”
“I know, but I think I’m hungrier than usual. We ate a huge breakfast before we left Tara-House. I must be having your cravings for you.” Logan sighed and put one hand on the door handle. “Tell you what. Sometimes the Lord tells us to help our fellow man. I’m gonna offer to help this farmer out. He looks like he’s ready to accept a friendly hand. Promise me you’ll stay put in the car.”
“All right, I promise. I’m fine though, really.” Ever since she’d told him about the baby, Logan was even more careful of her than usual. She hadn’t even suffered from morning sickness. His care of her was endearing. Patience might not be a strong suit of his that morning, but for his few faults, he was truly her beloved.