Lamb Watch Rules

No lambs.

Right now, I’m on Lamb Watch. I only have two ewes who are expecting babies this year. I don’t need a larger flock right now. But I am keeping an eye on those two ewes.

Lamb Watch is more than me just checking for lambs, though. Lamb watch has become a community vigil. It all began quite unintentionally several years back. I came home from work one spring day and looked out over my flock to see if any of the ewes had lambed yet. None had. I took a quick picture and posted on FaceBook, “No lambs.” It was just a status update, and that was my status. I didn’t know then that I was starting a tradition.

That first year, it was about two weeks from the time that I began my watch postings until the first lamb was born. In those two weeks, every time I checked on the flock, I updated my status with, “No Lambs.” Before I knew it, a whole bunch of folks had joined me in the waiting. Suddenly, I was being accompanied on what had up until then been a solitary task. And I enjoyed the company.

Now, several years later, I have discovered something about how traditions evolve. First of all, you have to realiize that it is a tradition. My discovery came the second spring when someone asked, “When does Lamb Watch begin?” “Oh,” I thought. “I guess this is a ‘thing’ now.” So we had Lamb Watch, Year Two.

No lambs

Then you find out that, without even noticing, you have constructed rules. I learned that last year, after I announced the birth of the first lambs, with the now traditional post, “Lambs.” I thought that was that.

“When are we going to get another Lamb Watch update?” someone posted the next day.

“Oh,” I wrote. “Lamb Watch is over.”

“What?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, “Lamb Watch ends when the first lamb is born.”

“No,” he responded. “Lamb watch ends when the last lamb is born.”

Lamb watch was only a four year old tradition and already there was the threat of a schism.

That got me to thinking about the other Lamb Watch rules I carry around in my head. One rule I thought I had was that I post something every time I look for lambs. But actually, even when I glance out the kitchen window during lambing I am scanning for babies. You really don’t want to hear “No lambs” every time that happens.

No lambs

So my rules are nuanced. “When you get up in the middle of the night to check the flock, you post.” When you come home from work and check the field, you post.” “When you go out first thing in the morning, you post.” These are just my rules, in my head, of course. I have no idea what others who are on Lamb Watch with me would say are the “rules,” or if they even imagine there are any. Maybe they even have their own version of the rules.

This year, when I posted my first “No lambs” picture and reignited the Lamb Watch community, someone commented, “My first full Lamb Watch, I like it.” Of course, that was just the beginning of Lamb Watch. It has gone on for six days now. I will have to check in with her when it finally ends, to see what she thought of the whole wait. But that got me thinking too. What is it like to walk new into an established community? And that of course got me thinking about my Seattle congregation, my other flock.

No lambs

All the ways we don’t know that something is a “thing” until it changes, or doesn’t happen, or someone comments on it.

All the “rules” we carry around in our heads, and the surprising ways those rules vary from head to head.

What it’s like to be new and, not knowing any of the “rules,” or “things,” courageously to join in.

And finally, the deep joy of discovering community in the most surprising of places.