Strength in the Storm: Dale, Ernie, and God’s Quiet Presence

The barbed wire swung dangerously close to my face, but I barely noticed as I draped myself over our bigger sheep, Dale. Rain poured down, mixing with sweat until I couldn’t tell one from the other. My hands burrowed deep into his wool, desperate to find where the barbs began. The wire was twisted into him like it had grown there. Should I call a vet? Who would I even call?

The girls were at school. Jim was still in California. And I was here—just me, Dale, and a mess of rusted wire. For a moment, doubt flooded me, whispering that I couldn’t do this. I stopped, stood there in the rain, and prayed.

And something shifted. My legs were trembling, my thumb bleeding from a deep slice I hadn’t even noticed, but I bent back over Dale with a renewed determination. Slowly, painstakingly, I cut away at the wool. He fought at first—rising up on his hind legs and making the barbs dig deeper—but after an hour he finally settled, as if he sensed I was trying to help. Two hours later, with one last pull and snip, the tangle released. He stepped back free.

I nearly cried with relief. I had done it. Or maybe I should say—God had given me the strength to do it.

It was perfect timing as I had to pick up the girls from school. I was a soaking, filthy mess but I didn’t care. Dale was free. And I was proud I hadn’t given up.

Later, as I bandaged my swollen thumb at the doctor’s office and got my tetanus shot, Dale was already back to his playful self. Ernie, his little brother, had been the one to alert me in the first place, bleating insistently until I checked the barn. Since that day, he’s been closer, more affectionate, like he knows I’ll fight for them too.

And then there’s Ava. This morning when I let the dogs out, I couldn’t find her. Panic surged until I finally spotted her—curled up inside the barn, nestled beside Dale and Ernie like their guardian. She refuses to leave their side now, watchful and protective.

I think we all bonded that day. It wasn’t just about freeing Dale—it was about learning again that when I’m overwhelmed, when I feel alone, I’m never actually alone. God is there, steadying my trembling hands, pushing me to take the next cut, the next breath, until freedom comes.