Boots

Meg slowly slid into the truck this day, looking deep in thought, not saying a word. Usually quite upbeat after our time at Raven Rock Ranch, this day Meg looked as if she was about to cry. I turned the corner onto the tree lined gravel driveway, heading towards home, hoping she would open up but silence met me and begged not to leave. Almost home, I finally asked, “Are you OK?" Without a word, she turned to face the window, but I still saw a single tear fall from her dark chocolate eyes and her petal pink lower lip began to quiver. Searching my mind for the answer so she would not have to breathe it to life herself, I asked, “Did something happen at the ranch today that upset you?” Her gaze lingered on her folded hands resting on her lap as she shook her head no and then yes. I usually try not to pry or rush her into sharing something before she is ready, but it was clear she was hurting and as her mother is it hard to let her marinate in that level of pain.  “What, honey? Tell me about it”. When she opened her mouth to speak her words quickly became uncontrolled heavy sobs.  I could only make out a single word: boots. Now I understood.

This day she had been gifted with riding boots to borrow while we are at the ranch. Sandy, owner and operator of Raven Rock Ranch, casually mentioned that she had bought some riding boots for the children who visit the ranch, feeling it was important because of the angle in which the child’s heels rest in the stirrups and the message it sends to the horse. Meg had been wearing rubber rain boots which are cute and keep moisture out, but would not protect her feet from her four-footed angel, Rusty’s 1200 pound body if he were to misstep or offer the freedom to dip her heel in the stirrups. At any rate, Sandy told Meg the boots were in the tack room and to find a pair that would fit.

Meg later told me the boots were still in the box—brand new. “I knew Sandy expected me to wear them and I knew they were better for riding, and for Rusty too, so I wore them, but I felt guilty for wearing them”. She did not have to explain any further for I, too, have known this kind of guilt---an unworthiness for receiving something without any merit on my part--But Meg did continue. She asked, “Why would she do something so nice for me? She really doesn’t know me that well and she spent her money on me”. Without a thought, I softly replied, “Because she loves you, Meg…because she loves you and wants the best for you”.  She was quiet the rest of the ride home and even for awhile once home. I imagine that she was processing that someone she has only known a short time genuinely cares about her. Later that night, when her Daddy came home from work and asked about the ranch, the first thing she mentioned, with those dancing, chocolate eyes, was the riding boots! This time joy oozed with each spoken word, not guilt.

Misplaced guilt, guilt that is not warranted because we have done nothing wrong or dishonored God in anyway, sneaks in to rob us of the freedom we are meant to live in Christ. It destroys our joy and binds us to feelings of unworthiness. Misplace guilt isolates us, sentencing us to a life deprive of acceptance for who we are in Christ.  It focuses on self, rather than on Christ. Simply, misplaced guilt is crippling.

I have known for a long time that Meg believes she has no value, that she was an accident, and is loved only out of obligation and to have watched her agonize unnecessarily over a precious, thoughtful gift broke my heart--- and yet I wondered if this gesture of kindness would be the spark she needs to expose her value.  We haven’t been back to the ranch since this day, but I am eager to see how she feels when she pulls on those leather riding boots later this week.  It is my prayer that she will wear them in freedom and not out of obligation or guilt---that she will embrace this beautiful gift and see her worth.

We do not need to feel guilt for something that honors God.  The only way to battle the crippling effects of misplaced guilt is to live rooted in the absolute, unshakable belief in the promises of God, hold them close to our hearts, and never doubt Who He is; what He has done and will do for us. This is called “living by faith”—having complete confidence in “future grace” and a life of freedom from crippling guilt. Doubt is a tactic Satan loves, absolutely loves to employ as it keeps us from living fully vested in Christ.

Meg talks constantly about Raven Rock Ranch, Rusty: her angel in a horse suit (!) and Sandy, her faithful sidekick and mentor constantly as each element of this piece of heaven on earth has gifted her with a joy that I have never, never seen before. The boots…she will wear them every visit and I believe they will serve as a reminder of her value---someone loves her and cares about her, not because they have to, but because they want to—they choose to! 

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Can we, like Paul, not only find contentment in weakness, hardships, persecution, and calamities, but also view these circumstances as opportunities to exalt Christ? Our value is intricately woven into this scripture and begs us to keep our focus on Christ, the Author and Perfector of our faith and not on our self. It is here that we see our value. He chose us!  He loves us! He forgives us! He blesses us…even with boots!