I’ve learned, after enough years raising animals, that prevention isn’t just good management — it’s stewardship.
God didn’t give me these animals to see how well I could treat sickness. He trusted me to care enough to keep it from happening in the first place.
Every feeding done on time, every pasture rotation, every balanced ration — none of that’s just routine. It’s respect.
Respect for the life I’ve been entrusted with, and for the One who gave it.
I can treat a disease when it shows up. I’ve done it plenty of times. But by the time I’m holding a needle, that animal’s already climbing a hard hill — pain, stress, inflammation — and even if it pulls through, something’s always lost along the way.
That’s why I focus on prevention.
Not because it’s easier, but because it’s right.
It’s not about keeping my numbers up or saving money on medicine. It’s about honoring creation by protecting it before it suffers.
God calls us to be stewards, not spectators — to care for His creatures with the same patience and compassion He shows us. “The righteous care for the needs of their animals.” — Proverbs 12:10
That verse isn’t just something I keep in my Bible. It’s something I try to live out in the barn, in the pasture, and in the quiet moments when nobody’s watching.
Prevention looks like small, faithful things — checking water, balancing minerals, giving the right supplements long before there’s ever a problem.
It’s quiet work. Daily work. Holy work.
Because stewardship doesn’t begin in a crisis.
It begins in consistency.
And every time I walk through the herd, I’m reminded that doing things right from the start is one of the truest ways I can live out that calling.
So yes — I’d rather prevent a disease than cure one.
Because healing after the fact is mercy.
But prevention?
That’s stewardship.