Field Notes No. 2

When the Lord Restores: Lessons from Job 42:10 and My Journey with Sheep

"And the Lord restored the fortunes of Job when he prayed for his friends, and the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before." - Job 42:10

I've read that verse more times than i can count in recent years. It's a promose of restoration- not just a retunr to what was, but often something even greater. Job lost everything: family, health, wealth, interceding for others (even those who had hurt him), God turned his captivity and doubled his blessings.

My own story isn't on the scale of Job's suffering, but it echoes the same pattern: loss, heartbreak, adaptation, and then- unexpectedly- restoration in ways I never planned.

It all started several years ago in the Rocky Mountains, at elevations pushing 8,500 feet. I dreamed of building a sheep company focused on animals that could provide both quality meat and beautiful fiber. Up there, the cold demanded thick, luxurious fleeces for survival, so why not make them something special? I chose breeds like Finn and Shetland- sheep with wonderful personalities, hardy enough for the harsh climate, and fleeces that were a joy to work with.

Life moved us farther north, nearly to Canada, and those same Finns and Shetlands thrived. Then came the call back to our homeland: Texas. It was still deep winter up north, and selling the flock quickly wasn't an option. So I loaded up my beloved sheep- about 30 head, including heart-sheep like Huckleberry (my all-time favorite ram), Granny (the wise old ewe I'd picked up along the way), and Finnley- and brought them south.

Texas welcomed us with open pastures, but my mountain-adapted Finns struggled. Even after shearing, they overheated constantly. Their long flleces snagged on high-desert brush and cacti. The long-staple fiber dream that had carried me through two moves simply wasn't going to work here.

One evening, porch-sitting and praying through the disappointment, a motto was born: Match the livestock with the landscape.

It wasn't the sheep's fault. It wasn't my fault. Finns and Shetlands were perfect for cold, brushy highlands- not hot, thorny deserts. I relocated them to loving homes on the blackland prairies of East Texas, where grass (not cactus) grew tall. Two and a half years of building evaporated overnight. The company name changed. The breeds changed. But the core goal never did: put good food on American tables thorugh animals that thrive with minimal fuss, offer personality, and provide meaningful milk and meat for homesteaders like me.

That's when I leaned into research, seeking breeds from landscapes like mine- hot, dry, challenging. I wanted dairy and meat over fiber this time (you can't eat wool, after all, though my sheep still provide plenty of perfectly usable fiber). Enter the Assaf, a hardy dual-purpose breeed developed in Israel from Awassi and East Friesian stock- perfect for climates very similar to Texas. I also brought in Tunis sheep, with roots in Tunisia's desert regions, known for heat tolerance and solid meat production.

I experimented to see what fit best. The Tunis did well, but the Assaf were the clear winners. They had it all: intelligence, varied fleeces, excellent udders, strong frames for table lambs, and fast growth rates. Best of all, their personalities shone- calm, sassy, engaging.

One Assaf stole my heart completely: my black ewe, Pansy. She was goofy, incredibly smart, and had one of the nicest dairy udders I'd ever seen. Pansy represented everything I'd built toward.

Then, just as things were taking shape- after years of setbacks- tragedy struck. In an unforseen incident, Pansy died despite every effort I made. I milked her only twice. The grief was deep. But she left behind a gift: her sweet ram lamb, Ace.

Ace became my cornerstone. I hadn't planned to keep him- if Pansly had lived, he might have gone elsewhere. Through that heartbreaking loss, something new was hatched. Ace anchored the beginning of a pure Assaf line here in Texas, one of the first pioneering efforts with this newly imported breed. A handful others before me have Assaf here, and we are all Pioneers together. At Maverick Sheep Co, we're also crossing a few Tunis ewes to explore the "best of both worlds"- exceptional taste in meat plus high milk production for practical homesteaders.

Homesteading, farming, ranching- it pushes you to your limits. It brings devastation, tears, numbness. Yet through the storms, the sun breaks through. Flowers bloom again. You look around and realize more is going right than wrong.

Just like Job, restoration came- not because I deserved it, but because God is faithful. What I lost in the Finns and in Pansy wasn't replaced identically; it was doubled in ways I couldn't forsee: a more climate-matched flock, deeper resilience, and the start of something truly special with Assaf sheep.

If you're in a hard season- whether with livestock, land, or life- hold on. Pray, adapt, forgive (even the circumstances), and trust. The Lord restores. Sometimes, He gives twice as much as before.

What about you? Have you seen restoration after loss on your homestead? I'd love to hear your stories in the comments.

Blessing from the flock,

The Feral Ranch Wife,

Cowgirl Shepherdess

Maverick Sheep Co

Proudly raising Assaf and crosses for homestead dairy and meat in Texas