Those moments are etched in Cheryl’s memory as a miraculous answer to prayer. She’d let anxiety strip her of her courage and take her on an emotional roller-coaster ride. But when she gave her fear to God, He set her free and gave her His peace. It was as if God was showing her that the only thing she had control over was herself. Everything else He had in His hands.
In the past I’ve struggled with anxiety. When situations looked bleak, I turned to worry, as if worrying could change anything. If ever there was a time for a person to worry, it would have been when the disciples watched Jesus get arrested and sentenced to be crucified. Only the week before, Jesus’ fame had soared. The crowds had honored Him by waving palm branches, singing, and dancing when He rode into town on a donkey (John 12:12-15). They had waited thousands of years for the Messiah to come to save them. Jesus, the Messiah, was finally positioned to take His place as king of the Jews. And now this? In a couple of days He would be crucified?
What were the disciples thinking as they watched their Savior die on the cross and their world crumble around them? It was the perfect setup for an anxiety attack. Did they wonder, How can this be? What will happen to us? Will the world tumble backward into darkness? How are we going to explain this to the other believers? Did we believe in the wrong man?
From the world’s standpoint it looked as if all were lost, as if Jesus the Messiah wasn’t real. The world looked so dark that perhaps the disciples worried God wouldn’t want to save it. Their hopes were crushed. But everything was happening according to God’s plan. During those bleak moments, Jesus knew what His disciples would be facing. That’s why on many occasions He’d warned them that He would die and God would raise Him from the dead. The words of wisdom He gave to Peter in the Garden of Gethsemane still apply today: “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41).
When Cheryl followed Jesus’ advice by praying and giving her situation to God, He set her free from anxiety, filled her with His peace, and refueled her hope. The good news is that He’ll do the same for you today.
Lord, when I’m tempted to worry, remind me to run to You for wisdom and comfort. Amen.
• Thoughts to Ponder •
Is there something you’re worrying about today? Do you have a long list of things that torment you? Our God is the God of comfort and answers. He’ll lead you to the perfect solution if you’ll pray, listen to His still small voice, and follow His advice. Why not pray right now?
29
SWEAT EQUITY
Diligence
The announcer’s voice blared through the sound system and carried through the massive indoor arena. The folks on the sidelines cheered for the competitor. Sand sprayed into the air from the horse’s hooves as it raced through a cloverleaf pattern around the three barrels. In a small paddock beside the main arena, a cluster of contestants and their horses waited their turn to ride. Kristi sat deep in the saddle. Her chestnut-and-white paint mare shifted her feet, antsy to get going. For Kristi, one of her main goals hinged on this run. If she and her horse, Dreamy, got a top score, she’d qualify to compete at the National Barrel Horse Association World Championship Race, usually referred to simply as “The World.” This was an honor awarded to only a few. The World is one of the toughest barrel racing competitions. Only the best and most athletic horse and rider teams are chosen according to their cumulative scores of the races they’d run that year.
Kristi’s thoughts swirled as she looked at the beautiful horses surrounding her. Many were expensive ones that carried famous bloodlines and were trained by top professionals in the industry. They were way out of her league. She and Dreamy were the underdogs. If they qualified, it wouldn’t be because of expensive bloodlines or high-dollar trainers. It would be because of years of hard work, tears, and prayers. Kristi wiped her sweaty palms on her blue jeans and prayed. Lord, wrap Your angels around us. Keep us safe from danger or any injury. Let us have a fast and fun run. Amen. Kristi leaned forward in the saddle and stroked Dreamy’s neck. She gathered the reins and whispered, “All right, girl. You’ve got to make your mama proud.”
Years ago, Kristi had gotten Lacey, Dreamy’s mom. At that time Kristi was a horse-crazy teenager who worked in her family’s floor covering store after school. Every spare moment was spent at the barn, living and breathing paint horses so she could barrel race. Her best friend and soon-to-be-husband, Dwight, wanted to buy her a second horse, so he took her to a catalog horse sale. When she got out of the truck, she spotted a chestnut-and-white paint being lunged in a pen. Instantly she knew that was the horse she wanted. The mare had been bred with cow horse and speed bloodlines. When it pranced, it exuded an air of power, confidence, and majesty. Kristi could see herself winning while riding her. She was thrilled when she was the high bidder and the auctioneer’s voice rang out, “Sold!”
Then the nightmare began.
When Kristi walked Lacey to her horse trailer, the mare seemed skittish and head shy. And she limped. After picking up the sore foot, Kristi discovered that the horse was wearing an egg-bar horseshoe, sealing off the frog part of the hoof from contacting the ground. She’d never seen anything like them before. A warning bell rang in her mind. Is there something really wrong with her feet? If there is, I can get out of the sale right now.
She led the mare to the back of the trailer.
The paint refused to load. She threw up her head and braced her feet.
Kristi tried everything she knew of, but nothing worked.
A tall man wearing a starched, white dress shirt, starched jeans, cowboy boots, and a hat offered to help. He said he was the horse’s former owner. The whites of the mare’s eyes showed as soon as he took hold of the lead rope. Suddenly he wielded a whip. He beat the mare’s legs and face. The mare reared and fought to get away.
Kristi screamed, “Stop it! Stop beating her!”
Finally he quit.
After he left, Kristi calmed Lacey and eventually coaxed the horse into the trailer. Any thoughts of canceling the sale had been dispelled. She knew she needed to do the right thing for the mare too. She wouldn’t send the horse back to a man that beat her for anything.
After consulting her veterinarian, Kristi discovered that Lacey had been drugged before the sale and most likely would be permanently lame. In spite of the mare’s abuse, the two became best friends almost immediately. Kristi resigned herself to the fact that she would be the caretaker of the horse for the rest of her life. Even though the mare couldn’t do anything productive for her, Kristi doted on her friend, giving her supplements to help with her hoof problem. She even trailered the horse miles away to a specialty farrier. On one of those visits she shared with him that she’d been trying to raise a colt out of her other mare, but year after year the mare didn’t get pregnant.
He grinned. “You ought to breed Lacey to my stallion. It would make a great barrel racing prospect.”
Kristi went to see his stallion and was awestruck. She hadn’t considered breeding Lacey, but why not?
During the pregnancy, Kristi loved to slip into Lacey’s stall at night. In the cool evening air she’d wrap her hands around the mare’s belly and, in a singsong voice, Kristi would chatter to the baby in the womb. “I can’t wait to meet you.” The mare would turn her head sideways and bat her long eyelashes. Her days of abuse in the past were erased.
Kristi had studied and memorized every stage of a horse’s pregnancy and delivery. The week before Lacey was due, Kristi and Dwight, now her husband, shoved together six bales of hay to make a bed for themselves in the aisle outside Lacey’s stall. They wanted to make sure they were present when their first foal was born. The February air was so cold they could see their breaths as they bundled up in their sleeping bags. Night after night they shivered as they tossed and turned. Every time the mare moaned, Kristi flicked on the flashlight and peered over the half-stall door. Then one morning at 2:30, Lacey lay down and her water broke.
Kristi could barely contain herself as she watched the amniotic sac poke out. She yelled, “Dwight, it’s happening.”
Dwight jumped out of bed and flipped on the lights. The other horses in the barn groaned as they woke up.
Kristi and Dwight huddled by the stall door and watched in fascination. Kristi brimmed with excitement. “Is everything happening exactly like it’s supposed to?”
Dwight held his finger to his lips. “Yes. Be quiet.”
“Are you sure?”
Over the next few minutes Lacey lay in the wood shavings. The muscles in her belly contracted, and she groaned. The foal’s front legs and nose, draped in the gray amniotic sac, protruded. Suddenly the horse rolled on her belly and jerked to her feet. The filly sucked back inside the mare.
Kristi’s eye’s widened. Don’t stand up! You need to be lying down! she thought.
The mare circled in the stall, as if she were repositioning herself. Then she lay down. With a couple more pushes, the wet filly was born. Steam rose from her body. The amniotic sac hung around her neck like a robe. She lay on her tummy surveying her new world.
Kristi grabbed two towels and immediately took inventory as she wiped down the baby. Like her mother, the filly was a chestnut-and-white paint. She had a white streak that looked like a lightning bolt that started at her front shoulder and extended down her leg. Perhaps it was an outward expression of the speed bundled up inside of “Painted Dreams Come True”—“Dreamy” for short.
The emcee’s voice brought Kristi back to the present. He announced, “Next up, Kristi on Painted Dreams Come True.”
• Dreamy and Kristi •
The mare shook with excitement as Kristi reined her into the arena. Slowly Kristi guided the horse in a circle to get her attention. Then she leaned forward and kicked her. The mare knew what to do. She shot forward like a rocket. Kristi gave the mare her head. Sand sprayed from the horse’s hooves. Running flat out, the mare carved around the first barrel and raced for the second. She shaved around the second and third barrels, and then beat a straight path to the finish line. It was a good, clean run!
Kristi screamed with excitement when the announcer’s voice read off her score and placement. She had qualified to compete in The World!
Only God could take a permanently damaged mare and pair her with a gal who wouldn’t give up to make miracles happen. I marvel when I think of the years Kristi sacrificed to take care of Lacey, a physically damaged mare. When life looked tough and it was obvious it wasn’t going the way Kristi had planned, she didn’t take the easy way out and dump the mare. She saved Lacey from a man who abused her.
Kristi never gave up hope. Instead, she tackled life day by day and steadily did what God led her to do through His Word and through her spirit. Her response reminds me of an insightful Scripture: “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin” (Zechariah 4:10 NLT). To me it seems like God witnessed her diligence and years of sweat equity, so He paved the way for her to reap an unexpected reward—her dream horse—so she’d be able to compete at the National Barrel Horse Association World Championship Race.
Lord, when things aren’t going the way I planned, please show me how to be diligent and handle situations Your way. Amen.
• Thoughts to Ponder •
What do you do when one of your plans goes awry? Do you toss it out the window? Do you think God might use that situation to bless you like He used Kristi’s situation to bless her? Have you prayed and asked Him to show you what to do?
30
DOUBLE TROUBLE
Hope and Love
It was deathly still in the kitchen. Andrea set down her fork and helplessly glanced at her three daughters who sat at the table. Her heart ached as she noted the dark circles under 11-year-old Bethany’s eyes. What happened to the giggling little girl that I love? Andrea wondered. Bethany’s eyes seemed sunken, and they looked dull from lack of nutrition. Her facial features appeared drawn and sharp. Only a few months ago she’d looked exactly like her healthy and happy 65-pound twin sister. Now she was down to 45 pounds. Bethany had morphed from a loving child into a zombie who had lost more than 30 percent of her body weight.
Bethany sat at the table in a fog.
Under her breath Andrea prayed. Lord, what can I do for Bethany? She was grasping for a thin thread of hope. After a minute of contemplation, Andrea became exasperated. She leaned forward and commanded, “Bethany, you are going to eat this food. You’re not moving away from this table until your lunch is eaten!”
Bethany’s shoulders shook as she sobbed. Her blond hair hung in her face as she stared at her plate.
Out of sheer frustration, Bethany’s twin sister, who was sitting next to her, scooped up a fistful of food and tried to cram it into her sister’s mouth.
Bethany gagged and spit out the food. Although she sat at the table until the meal was over, she never ate a bite.
Even though she reprimanded Bethany’s sister, Andrea wanted to scream in agony. She’d constantly prayed for help and guidance, but she couldn’t figure out what to do. Her daughter was dying in front of her eyes.
This bad situation had started in the fall after the twins turned 11 years old. Andrea was struggling with a mysterious illness thought to be cancer and homeschooling the girls. Andrea and her husband, Richard, noticed that Bethany seemed detached from the family.
Before the doctors figured out what was happening, Bethany’s weight had plummeted to 45 pounds. Only a shell remained of the once-bubbly child. The unspeakable had struck their family. Anorexia seemed to have a death grip on Bethany.
Frantically Andrea tried to grasp the reality. Bethany is only 11 years old! God, we’ve done everything we can to raise her in a godly manner. How can this happen to our family? In desperation she prayed, What can we do? Please guide us to help for Bethany.
They enrolled her in an anorexia clinic. Andrea was thrilled that the staff understood the disease and had a plan to help. They sent Andrea home with meal plans and suggested that she find an activity Bethany could get involved in—something where she could excel and find hope. At that point, Andrea expected that in a short amount of time Bethany would gain weight and life would return to normal. But that’s not what happened.
Bethany would have nothing to do with the plan. She’d become so depressed and withdrawn that she didn’t care if she lived or died. Every time Andrea suggested an activity, Bethany merely shrugged. She grew weaker every day. Her heart beat was fading away. At the last visit to the clinic, the staff had told Andrea that Bethany would need to start eating or they would have to hospitalize her and insert a feeding tube to keep her alive. Those words haunted Andrea. She lived in constant prayer.
One January day while Andrea was in her bedroom folding clothes, Bethany came in to get a book. They chatted a few minutes, and then Andrea asked what she could do to help.
Bethany replied, “I hate feeling like this. I used to be happy. I want to feel like that again.”
Andrea reminded her that faith in God had always been the most important thing in her life. She asked if Bethany would like to pray with her.
Reaching for each other’s hands, they bowed their heads and prayed for three miracles: that God would take away Bethany’s hurts; that He would restore her joy for living; and that He would give her a desire to eat.
A few weeks later Andrea made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner at her parents’ home, which was next door. The family sat on bar stools around the large island in the kitchen. Everyone but Bethany was eating.
Andrea’s mom’s brown eyes twinkled. “I saw a flyer at the post office. They opened a horse ranch down the road, and they’re offering horse lessons. I thought you girls might like it.”
Andrea watched a thin line of a smile wiggle across Bethany’s face. Hope sparked inside Andrea. She was scared to death of horses so the twins had never ridden, but if it would help Bethany, she’d make it happen. She figured the girls woul
d take a few lessons and move on to something else. But God had a bigger, totally unexpected plan for their family.
Andrea, her sister, and the twins drove over to the ranch on a damp and cold Missouri afternoon in March. When Andrea watched her fragile daughter step next to a sorrel horse with four white socks, she whispered a prayer. Oh, Lord, make this work.
Bethany learned how to clean the horse’s hooves and how to groom the animal. Then the instructor had her climb on bareback.
Breathlessly Andrea watched as the trainer lunged the horse at a trot. Her heart sank as she watched Bethany bob up and down on the sorrel’s back barely able to stay on. That looks miserable, she thought. But when Bethany slid to the ground, Andrea noticed she wore a smile on her face from ear to ear.
The morning of the next lesson, Bethany awoke excited. The shadow of a girl began connecting with the world again.
Weeks later one of the doctors at the clinic noticed Bethany had improved a little bit. He asked what was different.
Andrea replied, “The only thing I know that’s making a difference is that she’s riding horses twice a week.”
The doctor nodded. “Let’s focus on that. Let’s see if it will help make her better.”
Andrea’s heart soared. She left the clinic with strict instructions for Bethany’s program. She would not be allowed to ride horses unless she followed the meal plan.
Great Horse Stories Page 13