I’ve been MIA for about six weeks…not because I haven’t been writing or thinking or processing. I have. Anyone who knows me well, knows I do all those things quite often.
It’s taken a few weeks to get all my thoughts from my scribble book into actual words…the Spirit has been stirring something in my heart and soul and I’ve been trying to move it from the mess of jumbled words and images into something tangible that y’all could make sense of as readers.
Please bare with me, as some of it is still in the movement phase. Some of it is yet to become fluid. As you read the next few blogs, I think you’ll begin to understand why there has been such a busy-ness in my head.
In mid-April, we were given a horse. His name was Ollie. He’s a big boy. He was mistreated prior to my sweet college friend rescuing him. There was a history of abuse and neglect and due to those two things, he developed arthritis early. He’s only ten.
I’m not sure what we expected when we got him. Certainly not the big confident boy he appeared to be to innocent onlookers. We didn’t expect the fire or strength he exuded. In my mind, I expected a horse who was broken.
Broken.
Isn’t that a hard word to swallow. When we have a broken dish, we throw it away. When our children have a broken toy, we toss it. If there’s a broken pencil, we deem it unusable and get rid of it. What if God threw us away because of how badly we’re broken?
Please hear me say that my sweet friend didn’t throw Ollie away. She absolutely loved him and wanted him to be in a safe, healthy environment where he could just be a horse. Where he could live his life in peace and as part of a family.
Are you starting to see the parallel between horses and owners and between God and people?
You see, my friend wanted what was best for Ollie. She wanted him to have joy and peace and love. God wants the same for his children. He wants us to experience all the goodness He has for us. However, many times, our brokenness prevents us from walking fully in His grace and peace.
I expected a broken horse. I knew he wouldn’t be thrown away here. I knew we could give him love, peace, joy and a family. I knew he’d be happy, after the initial move, and that we’d spoil him. I knew my children would learn responsibility for something bigger than themselves…they’d learn about hard work and dedication. They’d learn that broken can still be beautiful.
You see, Ollie exuded confidence, he is after all, absolutely beautiful and walks with the air of royalty. We soon discovered that despite his appearance of confidence, he was really very frightened. Ollie didn’t like to be caught, he didn’t like for anyone to touch his face or his ears….oh, eventually, if you pushed hard enough, he’d let you. He was always the first to walk away though. He was in control.
Sound familiar?
When I’m afraid, I immediately go into control mode. I insist that I can handle things all on my own and I don’t need anyone else to help me. I put up walls, my control protects me. At least that’s the thought process. In all honesty, when I’m afraid, my Comforter is often the last one I go to…
When I started training with Ollie, I started training my heart and mind to better understand God’s grace…His mercy and love. I began to better understand His patience with my stubbornness, His grace with my human-ness, His willingness to love me even when I am unlovable, His joy when I allow Him into my brokenness and begin to let him heal me from the inside.
After a couple days, our neighbor, dear friend and horse trainer, agreed to help me train with Ollie. Honestly, I hadn’t the foggiest how I’d do all the things I’d seen him do but I agreed because I had such a peace when I was with Ollie. It was during this time we began to call Ollie, “Diesel-boy”. When he nickers, he sounds like a big diesel engine cranking. Several of the Navajo students at the high school commented on that big sound and we agreed as a family that he needed a new name to go with his new life. So, Diesel he became.
Remember, God gave Abram and Sarai a new name because He had big plans for them. Abraham and Sarah would have more grand children than stars in the sky. A new name to go along with His promise to them.
We certainly aren’t God. I just felt a new start, needed a new name. I covenant between our family and Diesel that we’d love him and treat him with kindness, gentleness and love that he would learn he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore.
I began training with Diesel each afternoon. Within a few days, he was becoming easier to catch and Diesel trusted me enough to let me lay on his back, rub all over him and he began following me every where I went. I noticed the gentleness he’d shown towards my children, from the beginning, was being given to me. He was beginning to trust me and I was learning that I could relate to Diesel in lots of ways.
Fear prevents us from trusting anyone and anything…even if the next right thing is the best thing, fear sneaks in, like the dirty liar it is and convinces us that what God has for us on the other side of the hard thing isn’t really good enough.
And so, after one week of having our beautiful Diesel-boy, I made a choice. I chose to work alongside our big boy and help get him past the hard thing so he could enjoy a fullness of life he’s never been able to experience…and thus our journey began…
Training with Diesel has been hard, it immediately began pushing buttons that I didn’t want pushed…God’s been using him to show me truths about myself that I thought I’d already worked through and realizing that I turn to my fear more than I turn to Him…I’m learning, working, processing, training…and being reminded that love is a choice.
All because God made a horse…