Determination

This is a story I heard told many years ago about an incident that happened even more years ago. It was told by a man who says to this day that almost everything he knows about life he learned from his grandfather who raised him.

One day, near where he lived and farmed, Grandpa discovered the trunk of a fallen cypress tree in the backwaters of the Pearl River near Picayune, MS. Grandpa decided he wanted that cypress log. But it was mired securely in the muddy bottom of the swamp. He went to the barn to harness Rufus, his trusty mule. The grandson, a cousin and a friend saw Grandpa hitching up the mule and asked what he was going to do. Being a man of few words, but great determination, Grandpa said he was going to pull a cypress log out of the swamp. So, the boys went along to watch.

When they all arrived at the backwaters and the boys saw the size of the log and its location in the muck of the river bed, they began to laugh and tell grandpa he would never get that log out. Grandpa ignored them while he positioned the mule and cinched two logging chains around the fallen tree.

He checked his work, then the harness, then patted the mule, stepped to the side with the reins in hand and said, “Pull, Rufus.” The mule tensed and immediately obeyed his master’s voice. The chains snapped taunt as the animal stepped forward in the collar. But nothing happened. The boys on the bank began to laugh and slap their knees. Grandpa ignored them. He pulled back slightly on the reins and the mule took a step backward. Then Grandpa yelled, “PULL!, Rufus”

The mule instinctively knew by both his first effort and the sound of his master’s voice that more effort was required. He stepped forward and slammed against the collar with such force that the cinches and reins snapped like gun shots. He pulled against the dead weight of the water-soaked log stuck fast in the mud, the ground beneath his feet giving way to his own massive weight. But the log did not move. The boys on the bank howled and rolled on the ground.

Grandpa said, “Whoa, Rufus.” Then he backed the mule a step or two and again checked all his tack. He and the mule stood there a moment and then both took a deep breath. Grandpa snapped the reins and yelled, “PULL!, RUFUS, PULL!” The massive beast lunged against the collar, its legs bent against the incline of the river bank, its hooves dug in, its belly almost touching the ground, its neck arched, its eyes bulged, its nostrils flared and the boys would later swear that smoke came out of them. And then they heard it, that unmistakable sucking sound of something being freed from the mud. “Pull, Rufus, Pull,” Grandpa yelled as he snapped the reins, and the mule took a step forward. Then another. And inch by inch that massive waterlogged cypress trunk slid up onto the bank.

Rufus and Grandpa both won the life-long respect of those boys that day. I don’t know what Grandpa did with that cypress log, but the boys slapped ole Rufus and bragged on that mule to the day it died. Grandpa smiled. Obviously the grandson still remembers his grandfather long after he was gone, too. I think Grandpa still smiles.

Perhaps we could all learn something about determination and teamwork. Grandpa knew the ability of his mule and wasn’t about to harm that valuable animal. But he also knew that no mule is going to pull a log out of a swamp on its own accord without some direction and encouragement. The Lord is like that. He knows our abilities, and He will not cause us harm. But sometimes He hitches us to a job that needs doing that we would not have done on our own, and convinces us we can do it. It may mean scraping our knuckles and even dragging our belly on the ground. But when we succeed, we will have won the admiration of those around us and brought glory to our Father in heaven. So, when you think you've done your best, but it isn't quite enough to get the job done, listen carefully. You just might hear, "Pull, Rufus, pull!"