Where I Would've Been

o I started a poem but couldn't make it rhyme. (Isn't that silly?)
Perhaps I can write instead. I was changing my age on the "about me" section of this blog, since I turned 24 last week. If I may be nostalgic for a moment, I think it is really starting to amaze me how quickly time passes. And, with that thought, I have been solemnly considering how different this year would have been if God had not protected me. As a Christian I know that I should actually see the safety in the future; indeed, this is a facet of trust. But I admit that my breath catches a little when I think about how different my life would be right now, both if I had listened to Him, and if I hadn't listened to Him.

I know that there were times when I thought I was doing the right thing, but forgetting that there are two or more wills at stake. I've been told that I have an uncanny sense of right and wrong; indeed, told that if I listened to my intuition I would save myself quite a bit of trouble. But sometimes, in considering the consequences, I consider too many variables when I should just trust God to take care of it. Maybe I'm not making sense.

You cannot make someone change. Or, if you force change, you don't actually have the heart of the matter. I've known this, of course, but it was again illustrated to me yesterday when I went out to see my horse. BayPony threw a shoe on Saturday, and her farrier came to fix it last night. The difference between a broken horse and a gentled horse is that the gentled horse wants to please you. Anyone can break a horse... anyone can force change through breaking the spirit. But what are we left with? We are left with a shallow relationship that is based on weakness, not meekness. Manipulation, fear, and pain, either physical or mental, are symptoms that something is awry.

Horse training is the same way. Before I ever rode Bay, I spent weeks taking walks with her. I started at her nose and ran my hands down her legs until she picked them up for me, even her back ones. Lots of positive reinforcement. Lots of walking by scary garbage cans, plastic tarps, and noisy cars. Lots of carrots and peppermints. And what is the gain? The gain is a relationship. I know it sounds silly, but there is indeed a difference between a horse with a broken spirit and one without. Eventually Bay learned to follow me, trust me, and listen to me without using harsh tools or even a bit.

God calls us to trust Him. Through everything. Even when we cannot see the end result. As I sit here tonight, peaceful and quiet, I've had that pang in heart that you feel when you realize just how close you came to being a broken spirit. For me, it's sort of that feeling you get just before the roller coaster begins the first descent. Or that catch you feel when you see the semi truck run the light you hesitated at. It's that feeling when fear and relief collide, and for a moment you can't tell the difference.

It doesn't take but a few feet (or moments) away from the path set before us before our stumble shakes us so badly we can't see the way anymore. I'm so grateful that God put the right people in my path to protect me, and even removed circumstances from my path, circumstances and chances that became so impossible I turned them over to Him. <3