Walking with Merlot

I did something a few weeks ago I never imagined would make its way into my pastor’s blog—I went llama trekking at Divine Llama Vineyards & Farm. And let me just say… llamas have personalities. We took them for a walk like I take Lily and Lucy out—except these “dogs” are taller, fluffier, and a little more dignified about the whole thing. My llama, Merlot (which feels like a very appropriate vineyard name), was actually a very good llama. She stayed right beside me the whole time, steady and attentive, even helping me navigate some of the rougher places along the trail. I’m not sure who was leading whom by the end of it, but I’ll take the help when I can get it.

Along the way we learned a few things. Llamas are part of the camel family (which makes sense once you see their faces), they’ve got stomachs kind of like cows, padded feet like dogs, and they prefer cooler weather. They’re smart, observant, and aware of what’s going on around them. And feeding them is an experience—they don’t have upper front teeth, just a dental pad, so when they take a treat it feels like your hand has entered a soft, determined vacuum.

But here’s the part I thought was interesting—and I promise this is real: llama manure attracts butterflies. Not because of it’s smell.  But because it holds nutrients—minerals and salts that butterflies actually need. When butterflies “puddle,” they’re not just looking for something that looks good, they’re looking for what will sustain them. So these beautiful, delicate, colorful creatures gather there. Yes. There in the manure.

Because we spend so much of our lives trying to avoid certain places—the messy parts, the frustrating parts, the places we wish we could skip over entirely. We want the smooth path, the easy terrain, the places where everything makes sense. But what if the places we try to avoid are actually holding something we need?  What if there are nutrients there?

Not the kind we would choose. Not the kind that smells good.  Not the kind we would highlight. But the kind that strengthens us in ways we didn’t expect. The kind that teaches us resilience, deepens our faith, opens our eyes to others, and reminds us we are not walking alone.

Those butterflies aren’t drawn to beauty—they’re drawn to what sustains them. And maybe, just maybe, God works the same way with us. Not avoiding the messy places, but meeting us there, drawing something good out of them, even using them to shape something beautiful within us.

And maybe that’s what I learned walking alongside Merlot—sometimes we are led, sometimes we are helped, sometimes the path is uneven, sometimes you step right in the middle of manure… but even then, there is something there for us.  Even there.  See you Sunday!

Peace, Pastor Tracy