Great Horse Stories

by Rebecca E. Ondov

  She stopped what she was doing and reminisced about her first horse, Little Bit. She was a short, fat, bay mare that really belonged to her dad. Little Bit was born about the same time as Callie, so they grew up together. By the time Callie was eight, she’d saved up enough money to buy a kid’s saddle. She’d saddle Little Bit, and then climb on a stool to pull herself into the saddle. Once settled in, she would ride around the small pasture. When Little Bit decided she’d had enough, she would hop into the air, curl her body into a “C,” and buck until Callie flew off and landed in a heap. The little girl’s temper would flare! She’d grab the reins, stomp across the pasture, get Little Bit into position, and then use the stool to climb back on the horse. Time after time the mare dumped Callie. Every time she rode, she would be tossed three or four times. But Callie never gave up. She always got back on.

  Getting back to work, Callie found the mare’s registration and scooped the pile of school papers back into the box. Over the next couple of days she mulled over the persistence Little Bit had taught her. Callie knew God had indeed put horses inside her. It was time to put the lesson she’d learned from Little Bit into practice—to put the bucking behind her and get back on and ride.

  Callie’s challenge of choosing to quit or to persevere resembles our everyday lives. She had to give up two mares she loved in order to move forward toward her next dream. Then everything went haywire. When we get bucked off life, it hurts. We might blame ourselves, others, or even God. We get discouraged and want to quit. But none of those things carry us toward building the life of faith God desires for us.

  Our God knows how tough life can be. That’s why He encourages us through His Word. Hebrews 10:36 says, “You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.” A happy and fulfilled life is achieved when we strengthen our spirits with the Word of God and then put our foot into the stirrup and get back on. And that is exactly what Callie did. She now owns and is training So What, the horse of her dreams.

  Lord, when life bucks me off, remind me that You’re here to dust me off. With Your help I know I can put my foot back into the stirrup and ride. Amen.

  • Thoughts to Ponder •

  Has life bucked you off? What did you do? Are there dreams God wants you to pursue? What do you need to do to put your foot in the stirrup and ride toward His plan for you?

  15

  BLACKIE

  Choosing Obedience

  On the outskirts of Mobile, Alabama, the mid-afternoon sun beat down. The muggy air was still. A long row of saddled horses were tied to a hitching rail by the barn. Some stood with drooped heads as they took afternoon naps. Others switched their tails and occasionally stomped a foot to shoo away the flies. Ed glanced down the row of horses. It was June. School had let out, and one of Ed’s friends had asked him to rent a horse and go riding with her.

  A group of people milled around the horses, trying to figure out which mounts to ride. Ed’s eyes stopped on an obsidian horse. There was a spark in his eye that cinched Ed’s decision. The horse looked like a kindred spirit. Turning to the teenaged wrangler, Ed pointed at the black horse. “I want to ride this one.”

  The wrangler’s eyebrows furrowed while sizing up Ed’s gangly 140-pounds on a 6-foot-tall frame. “Have you ridden before?”

  Ed nodded. He was 16 years old and in charge. He knew all about riding. After all, he’d been on a mule when he was 4 years old.

  The wrangler cautioned, “Blackie is spirited.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Now Ed wanted to ride that horse no matter what.

  After getting the horses sorted out and everyone mounted, the riders guided their horses down a well-worn trail through a 10-acre pasture. Ed loosely held the reins that had been tied together so he couldn’t drop one. He nudged Blackie into a faster walk to get next to his friend’s horse. The horses ambled across a grassy meadow dotted with oak trees. When the trail wound down a small dip, Blackie’s body tipped downhill. He stretched out his neck, pulling the reins so they hung loosely. Ed’s hands and body were relaxed as he visited with his friend. The horses sloshed through a small ditch full of water and continued across the pasture.

  Blackie’s body tensed, and he clamped down on the bit. He turned his head and looked at Ed as if to say, “Okay! Here we go!” Rearing up and pivoting 180 degrees, the horse leaped into a gallop.

  Ed fumbled as he grabbed the saddle horn and pulled back on the reins. Blackie’s hooves hit the earth hard, and the teen’s rear slammed into the saddle. A wave of pain shot through his spine. Desperately he hung on as Blackie’s body flattened in an all-out run. The beast was headed for the barn. His churning hooves sounded like thunder as they quickly covered ground. Clods of dirt sprayed behind him.

  The other kids stopped their horses to watch the show. Laughter and excited chatter rolled across the meadow.

  Squinting into the wind, Ed clutched the saddle. His heart pounded in his ears. Then his eyes grew wide. The ditch! Although it was only two feet across, it looked like the Grand Canyon to Ed. Dropping the reins, he grabbed the saddle horn with both hands and hung on white-knuckled.

  Without hesitating Blackie cleared the ditch with ease.

  Ed’s body slammed the saddle again when they landed. His teeth rattled. He gasped and looked up. The barn was next. Ed cringed as he imagined entering the building at this speed.

  Suddenly Blackie locked his front legs and dropped his hindquarters, sliding to a stop.

  Ed somersaulted over the horse’s head. Whop! The teen hit the hard-packed dirt on his backside, knocking the wind out of him. He groaned. Fortunately the only thing that was seriously hurt was his ego.

  Yep, Ed had picked a horse that mirrored him perfectly.

  In Ed’s senior year of high school, he lost interest in school. Although he sat in the various classrooms all year, he earned failing grades in nearly every subject. After his friends graduated, Ed left school and moved to Atlanta. He was racing his car through the streets about 25 miles an hour over the speed limit when the flashing lights of a police car appeared behind him. The fines printed on the reckless driving and speeding tickets were huge.

  Ed was sure he could get the fines reduced by appearing in court. When he arrived, 20 or so people sat in the courtroom waiting for the bailiff to call their names. When Ed was summoned, he walked up to the judge’s desk and entered his plea.

  The judge sternly interrogated him. “Are you living at home with your parents?”

  “No, I left home. I’m living with my grandparents.”

  The judge raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do you have a job?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you finish high school?”

  Ed stammered that he’d dropped out of school…well, not really. He simply hadn’t graduated.

  The judge held his pen over the paper where he’d write down the judgment.

  Ed’s eyes grew large as the judge scribbled in the fine amount. He’d raised it so that it was more than three-and-a-half times Ed’s weekly paycheck!

  Leaning forward, the judge told Ed, “You’ve got three choices. Either pay the fine, have your license suspended for a year and spend 30 days in jail, or go back to school at night until you earn a high school equivalency diploma.”

  Ed’s days of being in charge had taken him down a dark path that led to strict consequences. Wanting to do things his own way wasn’t original with Ed. In fact, that attitude is what the fall of mankind was all about. In the beginning of time, God created a beautiful garden for Adam. God told him, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Genesis 2:16-17). Then God made Eve for Adam. And they lived in the Garden of Eden together.

  Along came the wily serpent—Satan in disguise—who told Eve that eating the fruit wouldn’t kill her, but “your eyes will be opened, and you will be like
God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). By eating the apple, Eve…and eventually Adam…believed they’d know if God was holding something back from them. They were rejecting what God said was best and choosing their own path. They wanted to grab the bit and go where they wanted to.

  After Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, their eyes were opened all right. But they didn’t see what they wanted. They’d brought curses on themselves, every living creature on earth, and the earth itself. By their choices, Adam and Eve lost the blessing of living in a God-designed peaceful garden in a perfect world. I’m sure God’s heart was broken when He had to follow through on consequences and drive Adam and Eve out of the garden.

  Adam and Eve and Ed and Blackie didn’t want anybody telling them what to do. They wanted to be the stars in their own show. Fortunately for Ed, he came face-to-face with a judge who had the wisdom and compassion to help him realize life could be pleasant or miserable—and it was Ed’s choice which it would be.

  Ed reared up and did a 180-degree pivot. Suddenly he started listening to his grandparents, going to church, and attending night school until he graduated with his GED. During one of those summers he volunteered at the stables, and Blackie remained his favorite horse.

  In the following years, Ed married, went to work for his dad, and attended college. Thanks to a judge who took the time to set him on a better path, he chose to live a blessed life by building it on the foundation of faith and obedience to God.

  Our heavenly Father is our ultimate Judge. He says, “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. Do not be like the horse or the mule, which have no understanding but must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come to you” (Psalm 32:8-9). God lovingly gives us free will to make our own choices even though He understands the struggles we face. You and I can choose to live miserably by ignoring God’s counsel or we can live for Him and receive blessings by heeding His voice.

  I choose God’s way. What about you?

  Lord, please rein me in when I try to chomp down on the bit and go my own direction. Guide me in the way You want me to go. Amen.

  • Thoughts to Ponder •

  How often have you raced off with the bit in your mouth? Because you can’t see into the future and you don’t have the capacity and power to see how everything is interconnected, you can’t make the best decisions like God does. What areas of your life have you been trying to control? What would it be like if you gave the reins to God?

  16

  HARDTACK

  Survival Food

  The mid-morning sun cast its golden rays at an angle through the forest. It was quiet except for the soft footfalls of the horses’ hooves on the pine needles and occasional squirrel chatter coming from the tops of the trees. Debbie and I reined in our horses, and my saddle creaked as I stepped to the ground. It was time for a break to stretch my legs. I was also hungry. To beat the heat, at the crack of dawn I’d loaded SkySong into the horse trailer and driven over to the trailhead to meet Debbie. To leave on time, I’d cut my morning routine about a third. I’d skimped on my morning Bible study, figuring I could catch up in the afternoon, and I’d barely allowed enough time to catch a quick bite to eat before I went out the door.

  I loosely held the reins so SkySong could nibble some grass. Digging into my fanny pack, I found a sandwich bag filled with my favorite treat—my homemade version of hardtack. I’d gotten hooked on this old-fashioned “power bar” when I worked in the wilderness. Hardtack has been served to sailors and armies since the days of old because properly prepared and stored it doesn’t squish and will keep forever. Primarily made of flour, water, and salt, it was inexpensive and baked until all the moisture was gone, making it as hard as rock. To eat it, men would boil it, soak it in coffee, or smash it with the butts of their rifles. The ones I make contain nuts, flour, dried fruit, and semi-sweet chocolate chips. Although firm, the biscuits won’t break my teeth.

  Debbie and I chatted as I dug out a hunk of my hardtack. I offered some to Debbie, but she wasn’t hungry. Using my teeth, I broke off a bite. We talked about exploring some new country, and as I pointed to the faint outline of a trail that went through the trees and up the mountain, SkySong raised his head and his ears swiveled forward. His gaze zoned in on my piece of hardtack. His nostrils flared; his whiskers wiggled. Licking his lips, he stared at my treat. I laughed and said, “Chocolate chips are bad for horses.” But SkySong didn’t care what I said. He wanted to try a bite for himself. Digging into the Baggie, I pulled out another piece and put it on my hand. “Okay, but you won’t like it.”

  With gentle lips, SkySong snatched it. With his tongue he shifted the morsel between his molars and crunched down. His eyes lit up! Slobber formed in the corners of his mouth. I shook my head in disbelief. “Okay, so you do like it. The rest is for Debbie and me!”

  I glanced at Debbie. “Are you ready to go up the trail?”

  She nodded, gathered her reins, put her foot in the stirrup, and slipped into the saddle.

  SkySong watched me tuck the Baggie with the remaining pieces of hardtack into my fanny pack. I buckled the pack around my waist and decided to walk a bit before climbing in the saddle. I hadn’t gone a dozen steps before I felt SkySong’s breath on my back and then a tug on my fanny pack. I swung my arm behind me and swished the reins at him. He backed off a bit. Within a few yards I felt another tug on my fanny pack. I turned around. SkySong’s gaze was zeroed in on the fanny pack. I laughed. “Oh, I get it. You want to nibble on hardtack all day long.”

  I’d had enough walking. The saddle groaned as I stepped into the stirrup, swung my leg over, and settled in. SkySong glanced back at me. I was sure his eyes were sad. As I nudged him forward an interesting thought drifted through my spirit. You could nibble all day long on God’s Word. It’s great survival food. My mind whirled. That is what faith is about—taking the Word of God and applying it throughout the day.

  I could easily do that. All I needed to do was focus on one Bible verse during my study time and chew on it all day. Joshua 1:8 comes to mind: “Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.”

  SkySong’s desire to nibble on the hardtack started a healthy habit for me. I now carry 3 x 5 fluorescent-colored index cards in my purse, my car, and nearly everywhere I go. The cards have Scripture verses written on them so I can chomp on God’s Word all day. It is the survival food that builds faith! Why not try it this week?

  Lord, thank You for giving me Your Word as nourishment to strengthen my faith in You. Amen.

  • Thoughts to Ponder •

  What Bible verse will you meditate on today? Consider how you can apply the wisdom and principles to your day…and then do it. Have you ever made flash cards with Bible verses on them? Why not make a set of 20 or so to use this month?

  • Rebecca’s Hardtack •

  1½ C. whole-wheat flour

  ½ C. vegetable oil

  1½ C. chopped nuts

  1½ C. white flour

  ½ C. brown sugar

  2 Tbs. oat bran

  1 C. water

  ½ tsp. salt

  Optional

  ½ to 1 C. raisins

  ½ to 1 C. coconut

  ½ to 1 C. mini chocolate chips

  ½ to 1 C. whatever else sounds good to you

  Thoroughly mix all ingredients in a mixer using a dough hook or by hand. Spread ½" thick on a greased jelly roll pan and cut into one inch squares before baking. Bake in 350 degree oven for 35 to 50 minutes until dried throughout. Store in the freezer.

  17

  FINGERPRINTS OF GOD

  Surprise!

  Gray clouds cloaked the sky, obscuring the tall Rocky Mountain peaks that rimmed Flathead Valley. The green Nissan truck bumped down the long driveway, past the main house of the large, horse-boarding facility, and stopped in t
he parking lot by the barn. A bay mare rested her head on the top rail of the pipe corral and watched. As Cindy turned the key off, she looked at the mare and gasped. She turned to her grown daughter who sat in the passenger’s seat. Amy’s delicate lips tightened as she stared at her mare. The spring rains had been falling the past couple of weeks, and each day the mud in the mare’s corral had gotten deeper.

  They hopped out of the truck and walked to the corral.

  Cindy muttered, “Wow, this is worse than it looked from the truck.”

  The corral resembled a pig wallow. Black goo had swallowed Oakley’s legs all the way to her knees. Cindy knew the mare’s feet would rot if she didn’t get on drier ground—and soon. The mare’s pleading eyes followed them, almost as if she were saying, “I can’t stand this! Get me out of here!” Amy knew that with the contours of the land in this area there wouldn’t be a single dry spot. She gently stroked her mare’s forehead and looked at her mom. In unison they said, “We have to get her out of here today.” They made plans. Each went to their own home to begin the search for a new horse-boarding place.

  A couple of years before, Cindy was delighted when Amy got the bay mare. It was her grown daughter’s first horse. They both treasured their mother–daughter time when Amy would train Oakley and Cindy would hang out at the barn. All through Cindy’s childhood, she’d only asked for two things—cowboy boots and a horse. Each Christmas she was disappointed. Her father had grown up on a cattle ranch in Ronan, Montana. He knew how much work animals were—and how expensive. When he left the ranch to work on the railroad, he didn’t want to deal with livestock again. He put his nose to the grindstone and eked out a living for his wife and children.

  Fortunately for Cindy, her grandparents still owned the ranch when she was a child. She spent summers there with her cousins. They rode horses and raced over the rolling hills and grassy fields. But there was one thing Cindy was missing—her very own buckskin horse.