|
Greetings Friends and Happy October!
The weather's getting cooler, and the leaves are beginning to change color in Tennessee. That means one thing. It's time to saddle up my best horse, Samson, and ride! But before we get back to Natural Horse Faith-Man-Ship and teaching biblical faith using horses, I have one more excerpt from a "too long to print it all here" story that I wrote many years ago. Through the years, I've had many horses that have taught me lessons about faith, hope, and love. But today, I want to share a story about a special palomino paint horse, Jesse James, that just happened to come into my life at a time when I was feeling lost, and completely hopeless. It was Jesse that God chose to help teach me a valuable life lesson, and to never stop riding the endless trail of hope.
Susan
THE ENDLESS TRAIL OF HOPE
During the early 70's and my junior year of college, I began dating a cowboy. No city slicker, this guy was the real deal. He wore cowboy boots, a big brim hat, and even kept some "chew" in his back pocket. Most importantly, he could ride a horse like nobody I'd ever seen. Long before the days of horse whisperers and clinicians, handy sticks and strings, he had a gentle but firm way with horses that left me mesmerized. He was a natural. And he soon discovered the direct route to my heart. One year, on my birthday, he gave me what no one else ever had. He gave me my childhood dream and my first horse, Koko. Later, he gave me a beautiful black and white colt that I named Keoloni. That definitely bought him some time. But ultimately, the cowboy wasn't for keeps. However, my love for horses was.
Old pictures from the 70's of my first horse, Koko (on the left), and my paint horse, Keoloni (on the right).
The years quickly passed, and soon it was the spring of 1996. Flowers were in bloom everywhere, but I was heartbroken. My mom had just passed away, and I missed her terribly. I had always been a mama's girl. We had spoken together everyday of our lives. I was her caretaker when she became ill, and she had been the one who always told me "No matter what happens, don't you ever lose hope." And now she was gone. I felt utterly lost, and hopeless, too.
One day, shortly after mom's death, I was feeling particularly gloomy, when out of the blue, my husband, Kim, came to me with a newspaper ad he'd seen about a horse for sale. It was advertised as being a good one. "Aren't they all?" I said, with as hopeless and bad an attitude as I could muster. I simply wasn't interested. Besides, I'd already had my share of wild west adventures with a few advertised "good ones" at that point, and I had the holes in the rump of my jeans and the wounded pride to prove it.
And that's how I got roped into one of my most memorable adventures with the simple prospect of a good horse. It was a beautiful day with vivid blue skies, and billowy white clouds floating high above. The wild flowers decorated the green pasture that seemed to go on forever. It was a perfect day for a horsey test-drive, and everyone had come along to watch, including my mom. With saddle in tow, I was all excited over this new prospect advertised as a horse "anyone can ride". Yeah, right. The painful memory still lingers.
Full of anticipation and high hopes, I was feeling good when I climbed up in the saddle. And I was thinking to myself, this really could be the one. With my new, white brimmed hat glistening in the sun, I rode out of the barn on the back of this magnificent looking steed. I was dressed like Annie Oakley, feeling like a sharp-shooter who couldn't miss, and totally confident of the seller's inability to tell a lie! Seconds later, the horse had bucked me every which way but loose.
Looking down at the ground, I saw my brand new cowgirl hat lying there lifeless, and stomped flatter than a pancake. And I could feel my jaw begin to tighten. Miraculously, I had hung tough in the saddle, and for a brief moment even considered bronc riding as an alternative lifestyle. Not really! But I did realize just how close I had come to biting the dust permanently. And suddenly, I was mad as a hornet. Looking the dishonest seller straight in the eyes, I marched over to him, my knees still trembling, and shook my fist in his face. I think I even mumbled a few choice words under my breath that only he and God could hear. Come to think of it, I know that I did! Far as I was concerned, there would be time for repentin' later.
John Wayne once said that having courage was
being scared to death but saddling up anyway.
I think that must have been the whiskey talkin'!
After confronting the no-good, lying, and worthless son-of-a-gun seller, I did my best John Wayne impersonation, minus the whiskey bottle.
Dragging one leg behind me, I slowly staggered over to my mom. She had watched the entire bucking scenario unfold, and I was sure she would provide me with some much deserved sympathy. Instead, she simply peered at me over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses, and innocently asked, "Honey, was that horse supposed to do that?" I couldn't help myself. I walked back over to the horse that had nearly taken my life, and slugged it right between the eyes.
Suffice to say, I learned a valuable lesson that day. I learned that people will tell you whatever they want about a horse, but once you climb in the saddle, the horse will always tell you the truth!
And so, getting back to my story, the day Kim came to me with an ad about a "good horse" for sale, it immediately sparked a fire. I simply wasn't in the mood. Besides, I had resigned myself to having the blues. I didn't have a good horse. My mom was gone. And I was feeling completely hopeless. I was three for three! Kim, however, was undaunted by my ugly attitude, and continued to persist. "C'mon, buck up!" he said. I glared at him for his unwise choice of words. "Besides, you never know," he continued. "This one is named Prize Gold, and he just might be the one!"
A picture of Prize Gold. I later nicknamed him Jesse
James because of his cowboy spirit. He turned out to
be the one.
And that is how I found myself face to face with a three year old colt who was white as snow, and splashed with golden spots. A beautiful palomino paint, his registered name was Prize Gold. I soon sensed his cowboy spirit and began to call him Jesse James.
From the start, Jesse was a special kind of horse. He was just this side of green broke when I got him, young and playful, with a natural curiosity that sometimes got him, and me, into trouble. Jesse was also green as grass about most things, and had never really been to town, as the saying goes. But he was a kind horse with a big eye, and a willingness to learn. As a result, our life together was full of "firsts" for both of us.
Jesse, Susan (the crazy blonde years), and Kiowa
during a 14 day camping trip. It was a first time
experience for all of us.
Jesse was the first horse I rode up the steep, backwood trails of the Smoky mountains, the first horse I rode through deep rivers, and the first horse I camped out with for 14 days and survived to tell the tale. Every adventure we undertook was trial and error when we first started out. But by the time it was over, we felt like crusty, old veterans, who could take on the world.
Me and Jesse getting our feet wet. Water crossings
were touch and go at first, but my young colt and I kept
at it. Soon we were crossing rivers together with
no fear.
One day, I woke up with the sun beaming through the open blinds, and a strange thought came to mind. It was as clear as a bell. Jesse might be a gift from God sent to me right on time. It was no deeper than that, just a fleeting thought. And then I thought about my mom. I had felt so hopeless after her death. Then along came this three year old green-broke colt. Strange how things just happen. He was the last thing I needed, or so I had thought. Now, teaching him and just being with him had taken over my whole world. And then I realized that something had taken place in my heart. I had begun to feel a flicker of hope once again.
Not long after that strange thought, I was out riding Jesse on a trail in the mountains one day. My husband was riding with me on his quarter horse, Kiowa. We had hired a guide, and she was riding an Arabian with no saddle, and nothing but a makeshift halter. I couldn't believe it, and I was thinking to myself, this gal is my hero, when out of nowhere two deer ran across our path. We all stopped in the middle of the trail to watch them scamper up the steep hillside. For a moment, I simply basked in the prideful thought that my young horse was standing perfectly still, with not so much as a flinch. And then, there in the middle of the woods, everything suddenly seemed surreal.
Kim on Kiowa, and me on Jesse James. Besides my
goofy, hi-sittin' hat, I'd gone back to being a brunette,
or a redhead, or who knows. In those days, I changed hair color like some people change shoes. Anyhow, Kim has always laughed at me in this picture until I kindly
pointed out his ridiculous looking Grizzly Adam's beard! Moments after our guide snapped this silly picture, I thought I saw a glimpse of my mother standing in the distance. And it shook me to my bones.
For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a glimpse of my mother standing in the distance. Perhaps it was real, or perhaps it wasn't. I can't explain it, but she seemed clothed in Glory. Her face was shining, and in an instant, I thought back to the last time I had seen her. I had held my 81 year old mother in my arms as she took her last breath. At the end, she had been a tiny, frail, and sick woman, who had fought valiantly for her life. But seeing her now, she was different. She was changed. Now she appeared radiant and alive. Transfixed on the image before me, I was shaken down to my bones.
I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes, and blinked again. And then, I looked at my riding companions. It was obvious, they hadn't noticed a thing other than the deer scampering up the hillside. No doubt, I would have fallen to my knees had I not been on Jesse who continued to stand perfectly still, as if he were at attention. And then, I thought I heard something. Was it God, or was it just me? I didn't know. It certainly wasn't earth shaking, and perhaps it would have been easy for me to dismiss or second-guess, had I not been captivated by the words.
"You have been given this horse for a season that you might learn a lesson about life. Never lose sight of hope."
Susan and Prize Gold, alias Jesse James
Many years passed before I got up the nerve to tell my husband about the strange incident that had taken place while trail riding up in the mountains that day. In time, I sold Jesse. I cried the day I told him goodbye, and for many years afterwards. But somehow, I knew there was another special horse coming one day that would help teach me about the greatest thing of all. A horse that would take me on a journey far beyond the endless trail of hope. A horse that would teach me about love. A horse named Samson.
|
