His life changed when he was training horses at a Christian camp. There he was learning how to capture a horse’s heart…and God captured his. While Pat was sitting on top of a mountain, God revealed His desire for a close relationship. Pat gave his heart to God, and God began to transform him from a broken-down cowboy into a cowboy with a vision to use horses to teach people about uniting their hearts with God.
A light breeze rustled Pat’s striped shirt. The Lord had impressed on him that he was to do something he’d never done in the show before—something Pat deemed impossible. He was sure God was telling him to not put harnesses on the horses. He was to work with them without restraints. The mere thought of it stretched his faith. When horses are worked as a team, they have straps that tie them together to keep them synchronized. Pat also used lead ropes, lines, and reins to cue and guide them. On top of all that, Pat had purchased these two horses last fall so he’d only worked with them for a few months. The horses barely knew each other. Pat prayed and went forward, confident God knew what He was doing.
The two black-and-white horses stood in the round pen with bareback pads buckled on and halters without lead ropes strapped on. No other equipment was in sight. Standing in the middle of the round pen with a long horse “cue stick,” Pat explained that he was doing something he’d never attempted. He was asking the horses to do their routine without hands-on guidance from him. He signaled to both horses to move left and circle the arena next to the rails. Both horses moved out in a trot, Evangelist in the lead with Prophet following behind.
The microphone crackled as Pat announced, “Horses are a great example of unity. But they have to stay together and they have to work together to glorify the trainer. God’s our trainer.” Pat used body language to ask one horse to slow down and the other one to speed up until they were side by side. They continued to trot in unison. Pat cued them to lope. “They have to stay focused on the trainer to keep him in the right perspective too.” The crowd eagerly watched the horses as they cantered in step with each other. Pat motioned for them to stop. Gracefully they slowed and stopped. The audience murmured with approval. Pat breathed a sigh of relief.
After setting up a jump for the next routine, Pat’s heart pounded. He looked down at his cowboy boots as he prayed under his breath. He was going to ask the horses to lope around the ring and jump the timber in unison. Will the horses stay together without anything tying them together? They would have to want to stay together and have the desire to obey him so he could direct them. He’d never asked them to do this. Will they stay focused on me? As he prayed, he felt the peace of the Holy Spirit wash over him.
Pat focused on Evangelist and Prophet. Stepping toward the horses, he cued them to trot along the rails. In a few steps they joined up with each other. Side by side the horses stepped up to a lope. Their black-and-white striped manes and tails waved behind them emphasizing their unity while they kept their attention focused on Pat and each other.
Everyone was silent while watching the horses and listening to the rumble of their hooves striking the ground. As the horses neared the jump, they adjusted their stride but kept their bodies rocking forward and back in rhythm. The crowd leaned forward with anticipation. Pat held his breath. Flowing together in almost one motion, the horses brought their hind feet underneath them and launched over the timber in perfect unison.
Ripples of oohs and ahs came from the crowd. A wave of awe descended on Pat. His eyes watered a bit as he announced, “That’s a perfect example of what true unity looks like.”
As Pat was wrapping up the show, he felt led to do something extremely dangerous. He was sure God wanted him to stand on the backs of the horses with a foot on each one. Usually when he did this “Roman Riding,” the horses were tied together and Pat held their reins. Without the straps, Pat had no physical control over the horses. If they spooked or decided to do their own thing, he would be in trouble. He could easily lose his balance and fall beneath them and get trampled.
Pat used riding showmanship to show how people and animals can work together. Over the years, he’d watched a lot of trainers use force to control their horses. He’d witnessed similar situations in human relationships. The horses responded out of fear, which was usually the same reason people stayed in abusive situations. The trainers and abusers don’t have the trust or hearts of their partners.
Today Pat hoped to show something special—the staying power of a heart-centered relationship. He took a deep breath as he silently prayed. After positioning the horses side by side, he stepped on a pedestal next to Prophet, swung his leg over the bareback pad, and settled in. He squeezed his legs and cued Evangelist to move next to him. Pat placed his hands on each side of Prophet’s shoulders, thrust his weight forward, and stood up on the pad. Both horses continued to walk in step with each other. To stand on both horses, Pat shifted all his weight onto his left foot so he could swing his right leg over to Evangelist’s back. When Pat did so, the saddle pad under his left foot slipped sideways. He lost his balance and fell between the horses.
The crowd gasped.
The horses, however, never flinched but instantly came to a halt.
Pat landed on his feet. He reassured the crowd he was all right. Then he quickly stripped off the saddle pads and moved the horses back to the starting point.
Pat’s heart raced as he used the pedestal to get back on Prophet. Pat again stood on Prophet’s back. Holding his breath, he swung his leg over and placed his right foot on Evangelist’s back. Pat’s spirit soared as the horses stood perfectly still. Pat finished his message. “Whether we’re a husband, or wife, or friends, we really need to keep Christ in the center of our relationships so they’ll work smoothly and effectively.”
• Prophet, Pat, and Evangelist •
Evangelist and Prophet performed perfectly for the crowd because they wanted to please Pat. He’d captured their hearts and their trust. By watching and listening to Pat’s cues, they constantly fine-tuned their timing, direction, and pacing to stay with each other. The unity between Pat and his horses reveals a secret to developing oneness with Christ and with each other.
First, it’s essential to give our whole hearts to Christ and desire to do His will. Then God encourages us to develop unity with each other. “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity” (Psalm 133:1)! The apostle Paul wrote to the believers in Ephesus, “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3). Once we do that, God becomes our Guide who gently shows us where and how to go. He will give us cues to keep us from going off course and share His wisdom for handling problems. But we need to stay alert and pay attention so we won’t miss any signals.
After Pat’s performance, there were several lasting changes made in the small community. For weeks the people talked about his message and the miraculous horses that loved and trusted him. They understood that God wanted them to love and trust Him so they could work together. God touched their hearts and worked through Pat’s message to help them iron out conflicts.
But the biggest change was inside Pat’s heart. He’d been willing to go out on a limb by listening to what God asked him to do—work the horses with no harnesses, reins, straps, or lead ropes. Then Pat had stepped out in faith to do what was possible only with God’s help. Working in unity with God, Pat was blessed beyond his expectations. And the crowd was blessed to witness God at work in and through Pat and his horses.
Lord, show me how to live in unity with You and other believers. Amen.
• Thoughts to Ponder •
How has God been a gentle trainer directing you through life? How do you usually respond to Him? Have you given God your mind and heart?
38
THE SOLDIER
An Advocate
Saddles creaked as 24 men dressed in traditional 1870’s blue cavalry uniforms, including tall black boots, stepped into the stirrups and slid into the old army saddles. Turning their horses, they left
the lights of the barracks behind and rode into the semi-darkness of early morning. In the still air, hoofbeats rumbled the ground. Ted reached down and rubbed the neck of his horse before resting his forearm on the .45 Colt pistol he had strapped on his belt.
Ted’s love of history had drawn him to ride in this reenactment of the Battle of the Little Bighorn, also known as Custer’s Last Stand. But it was more than history that drew him. When he was a young child, he loved standing next to his parents on the flag-lined main street of Morris, Minnesota, to honor the veterans on Memorial Day. The heroes in Ted’s world were the men and women who agreed to stand in harm’s way and, if need be, give up their lives to protect others.
In September 1966, Ted became one of those people again. He rejoined the active navy, and within a year he became a photo officer for the U.S. Navy inside Vietnam. In 1968, he was sent to document a Navy SEAL’s burial at sea. Ted stood holding his camera aboard the deck of a naval ship in the China Sea. The sun glistened off the calm water as the ship stopped moving. The U.S. flag hung at half-mast and soldiers wearing dress white uniforms commenced the ceremony. The flag-draped coffin was placed on a wooden plank that extended at right angles to the ship. At the appropriate time, the plank was tilted. In silence, the casket-bearers held on to the flag as the casket grated down the plank and splashed into the sea. For a couple of seconds it floated, but slowly it filled with water and sank. After the roar of the 21-gun salute and the sorrowful sound of Taps drifted away, only Ted’s photos and grieving family and friends remained. The burial was etched deeply in Ted’s memory, perhaps because most of the people for whom the navy man had died would never even know his name.
That day fueled a flaming desire inside Ted, a desire to protect the innocent and honor others who do the same. After leaving Vietnam, he served in law enforcement and is still actively involved in honoring veterans. Although Ted had ridden and owned horses throughout his life, he’d never ridden on a battlefield to honor the soldiers who had died so many years ago. That is why Ted and the men he was riding with were here now—to honor those who gave their all.
The beat of hooves striking the ground reverberated through the dawn. A solemn air hung over the troops as they rode single file up a tall hill. Ted’s thoughts drifted to the previous days when he’d walked the grassy battlefield they’d be on today. Stark white grave markers dotted the field where soldiers had fallen—soldiers with antique weapons, no communication, and only their feet and horses for transportation. Clusters of white markers showed the intense areas of battle. The men who had died here had signed up to serve. They didn’t have a choice as to where to go, what battles they would fight, or who their commanding officers would be. They’d been willing to give their lives for the United States—and they had.
An American flag gently waved above the soldier in the lead, who held the pole steady with his hand. The end of the pole rested on his stirrup. The second in line displayed the Guidon flag, a smaller red, white, and blue swallowtail flag of the Seventh Cavalry, also known as the “Guide.” As the men on horseback topped the hill, they silently formed a line facing east. Reining in their horses, the soldiers waited for the sun to fully rise. Only the occasional creaks of saddles broke the silence. It was as if the horses knew this moment was sacred.
A cool Montana breeze carried the summer smells of fresh green grass and the sweet bouquet of prairie flowers. The men in blue uniforms sat astride their horses waiting. Men and horses almost looked like statues. The sun’s rays poked above the horizon. A voice rang out. “Draw your weapons. Prepare to fire blank ammo.” In unison the men drew their pistols, many of them Colt .45s, the weapon most of the fallen soldiers had carried.
“Fire!”
Six times the guns roared in unison on command. The horses held their positions. After the last volley, each soldier held his weapon across his chest at parade rest.
As the sun rose, a bugler played Taps. The woeful sound drifted down the hill and across the dew-drenched meadows. For several minutes the reenactment soldiers watched the sun cast its golden light across the rolling hills. The man carrying the Guidon flag turned his horse and rode off. Next went the man with the American flag. As he turned, the flag gracefully waved. The rest of the men fell in line single file. Again only hoofbeats drumming the grass was heard.
I was intrigued when a friend told me about Ted and his ride. After I met him and got to know him a bit, I realized that what I admired was how Christ was reflected in Ted’s everyday living. His passion is to be an advocate. He fought for freedom, was a voice for the innocent, and continues to honor his fellow soldiers. When Ted stands in the gap separating good from evil, he reflects Christ’s nature. Jesus Christ is an advocate and defender: “If anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous” (1 John 2:1 NLT).
Have you needed an advocate? Have you been accused of doing something wrong? Have thoughts of defeat or shame attacked you? Did you know that the spiritual accuser is the devil? “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). Revelation 12:10 casts light on how deviously persistent the devil can be and tells of his future: “The accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.” Did you know that day and night the devil is accusing you of sin and telling God how unworthy you are?
What happens next is supernatural. In my mind, the scene plays out like an old-time John Wayne western. The bad guy—the one in the black hat—is bad mouthing someone. The sheriff steps in and says, “Hold on there a minute, Pilgrim.” And he proceeds to straighten everything out according to the law. If we’re born again, Jesus is the sheriff and advocate who steps in to defend us. He willingly died for us, giving His all to rescue us, defend us, and restore our relationship with God. Have you considered how powerful that is? God, in the form of Jesus, personally represents each one of us who choose to repent of our sins and call on His name for salvation.
• Ted getting ready to ride •
Knowing Jesus willingly defends me sheds new light on His love for me. He’s truly my hero. Is He yours?
Lord, thank You for giving Your life to rescue me, defend me, and restore my relationship with You. Amen.
• Thoughts to Ponder •
How do you feel when you think of the devil accusing you of sins day and night before God? What might he be saying about you? Is it true? Have you repented of your sins and given your life to the Lord Jesus Christ? If you have and are living with Him as your Lord and Savior, the devil can accuse forever but he won’t be heard. Your advocate, Jesus, stands between the devil and you.
39
THE CASTAWAY
Unwanted
The barn lights cast an eerie glow through the cold rain that drummed against the hood of Sharon’s blue raincoat. Grunting, she pushed the full wheelbarrow to the manure pile outside the barn. After dumping it, she sighed and stopped to catch her breath. Floodlights illuminated the outdoor arenas and cast fingers of light through the pastures. Sharon cocked her head. In one of the wide rays of light and about 100 yards away was a ghostly outline of a horse. She squinted. The vapor from the heat of her breath mingled with the frigid winter air and floated in front of her eyes. She blinked in surprise. A white horse?
He stood in the cattle pasture where no horses were supposed to be. Sharon leaned forward, resting against the wheelbarrow. What is he doing here? Whose horse is he? The horse stood all by himself with his head hanging low. His tail was tucked in close, and he seemed hunched up as if he were freezing. He looks too thin, Sharon decided. Could he be hypothermic? The cold rain is washing away his body heat. He won’t be able to get warm until the sun comes out. He might be dead before then.
Suddenly the horse lay down. Unable to get comfortable, he struggled to his feet again. His body teetered, almost as if he couldn’t decide what to do. Then he put h
is feet together and sank back to the ground.
Alarmed now, Sharon wondered if he had colic. Pain in his gut would make him lie down and get back up again. Colic could kill him if he’s left alone. Whatever he is, he’s in pain and needs help now!
Quickly she pushed the wheelbarrow into the barn and put it away. She sloshed through puddles to the 100-year-old, two-story ranch house. Standing on the porch, she wiggled her muck boots over the boot scraper before stepping inside. Warm air enfolded her. She made her way down the hall to the office, her footsteps echoing off the tall ceilings and plastered walls.
The ranch manager sat behind a wooden desk. Streaks of gray highlighted his dark-brown hair. He glanced up as Sharon walked in.
Sharon rubbed her hands to warm them as she asked, “Do you know whose white horse that is in the cattle pasture?”
Joe rested his muscular arms on the desk and folded his hands. “It came in this afternoon with the load of cows I bought. The owners didn’t want it, so they put it on the cattle truck.”
Sharon shared her concern that the horse looked like he was in pain. He might be in danger of hypothermia or even colic.
Joe looked at her like she was droning on about a stray cat that had wandered in—the one no one wants to feed because then it’d stay. He tried to dismiss her concern with a shrug and a fatalistic attitude. “Sharon, the horse is either going to make it or it’s not.”
Sharon flushed and put her hands on her hips. “I’m going out there to put a halter on him and take him into the barn. I’ll pay for the extra stall. I’m going to take care of him. No horse will suffer while I’m around.”
Joe leaned forward and his brown eyes narrowed. “Do what you feel you have to, but you’re wasting your time. I don’t think you can pull that horse through.”
Great Horse Stories Page 17