I had spent the last hour watching Rusty, our angel in horsehair
(!), follow Meg around the round pen without a lead, without a single touch. I
watched Rusty lower his head to her waist, turn circles, back up and stop simply
by the sound of her voice. If I had not seen it myself, I would not have
believed it. I honestly do not know of anything more life-giving than to watch
a girl who struggles with her value and a once neglected horse bond. He was
free to do what he pleased and he chose to follow her.
I recall our first day at Raven Rock Ranch. It was a warm
fall day and Rusty had been keeping himself cool in the shade of a cluster of
trees at the far end of the pasture. When Meg approached the fence, it was if
he had always known her. He trotted to the fence, bent his head low and
breathed in her scent. Her smile had been held captive for countless years and
in that moment Rusty had unlocked not just her smile, but her precious giggle
as she leaned forward to nuzzle noses with him. Sandy, owner and operator of
the ranch, revealed that he never does that. He chose her that first day. And
she chose him.
Every week for a few months now Meg has looked forward to
our time at RRR. She cleans stalls, grooms Rusty, and has been learning to tack
and ride. Her small voice, awkward gestures, and lack of confidence confine her
in most areas of her life, isolating herself, floundering in self doubt, and
engaging in self-destructive behavior. However, Rusty sees beyond that. He
simply sees his girl. She shows up and his quiet day becomes a vivid wonderment
as they work together to meet each other where they are. They do not need to
pretend with one another. Their hearts have been gravely bruised and yet they
have chosen each other to journey toward healing, learning to trust one another along the way.
Today, Sandy unhooked the lead from Rusty’s halter and asked
Meg to slowly walk away from him, believing that he would follow her. After several steps it looked as if Rusty was
not going to follow. He just stood there. His ears twitched as he listened to
the slightest crackle of frost laden footsteps and the whinnies of horses in
bordering pastures. He lowered his head, smelling the air as if searching for
anything to give him direction. Meg stood still, her back to him, just waiting. I am certain she would have waited for him all day for I have never seen devotion like hers to Rusty.
Rusty had never been given a choice before. Never. Now, he had freedom to do what he wanted and it clearly confused him. Several minutes passed and finally he took a step---walking parallel to where Meg was, not to her. Admittedly, I chuckled. It was as if he was saying, "I want to be near you, but I will not do it exactly like you want". Typical 10 year old behavior! Sandy reentered the round pen and instinctively, yet unconventionally asked Meg to breathe into Rusty’s nose. Horses greet each other by breathing into one another's noses, so it seemed likely that he would identify with Meg, recognize her on a different level if she were to do the same. With both hands planted on her knees, she stoop to Rusty’s lowered head and breathed into his soft muzzle. Frosted air escaped her petal pink lips, rising heavenward. Then, without a word, Sandy left the pen. Meg began to walk and Rusty followed. Meg stopped and Rusty stopped. She walked in circles and so did he. He was smitten with a girl he was learning to trust!
Rusty had never been given a choice before. Never. Now, he had freedom to do what he wanted and it clearly confused him. Several minutes passed and finally he took a step---walking parallel to where Meg was, not to her. Admittedly, I chuckled. It was as if he was saying, "I want to be near you, but I will not do it exactly like you want". Typical 10 year old behavior! Sandy reentered the round pen and instinctively, yet unconventionally asked Meg to breathe into Rusty’s nose. Horses greet each other by breathing into one another's noses, so it seemed likely that he would identify with Meg, recognize her on a different level if she were to do the same. With both hands planted on her knees, she stoop to Rusty’s lowered head and breathed into his soft muzzle. Frosted air escaped her petal pink lips, rising heavenward. Then, without a word, Sandy left the pen. Meg began to walk and Rusty followed. Meg stopped and Rusty stopped. She walked in circles and so did he. He was smitten with a girl he was learning to trust!
Trust sees what physical eyes cannot. It is a
deepening, a ripening, a willingness to wait for God in the unplanned place of
obedience, and to walk with God at the unplanned pace of obedience---“to wait
in His place, and to go at His pace”, knowing with certainty that He will carry
us through all our afflictions. Trust requires faith. It feels risky until we
know; really know the One we’re walking with.
