Answered Prayers

Even though my mom had said she was willing to look at the final horse, when we got to the barn, her attitude said otherwise. The minute she saw Eclipse, she said, “I don’t like him. He is just a barn horse, probably used for plowing or something.”

“Mom,” I said, in utter disappointment, “You haven’t even given him a chance… he may surprise you.”

I could tell she hadn’t even really looked at him, because he was, in fact, a stunning, sleek, black gelding with the purest white crescent in the middle of his forehead, the defining marking for which he had been named. He stood sturdy and strong with near perfect confirmation.  

  “Fine, but I am telling you right now,” she grumbled, “He is not the appaloosa. I think we are wasting our time.”

Shock and embarrassment hit me at my mom’s attitude. This was not her usual kind and gentle nature, and I was confused. It was as if she had blinders on and could only see the outside beauty of the appaloosa, without even trying to look into the beautiful soul of Eclipse and all he had to offer. Of course, it was 105 degrees that hot August day, and she was exhausted from countless hours of driving across the state to look at horses. Even so, that was no excuse for her to act so rudely or to be so unaccepting of the exquisite horse in front of her. I think in some odd way that God was using that moment to show my mom that what you see on the outside is not nearly as important as what lies within, but at that moment, nothing mattered to her but the appaloosa.

 Putting her demeaning opinions to the side, Dayna and I watched intently as the trainer rode him around the arena, showing us every gait. He moved with pure beauty and grace, perfectly, slowly, and steadily with each stride he took. Yes, it is true, I had seen a lot of horses and fallen in love with just about every one (I love all animals and would love to take them all home), but something about Eclipse was different. His calming nature was like nothing I had ever seen; so many of the previous horses I had visited were apprehensive about my walker and would immediately shy away from it, the rattling noise and squeaky wheels catching them off guard. Eclipse, on the other hand, never even batted an eye from the first moment I walked into his presence.  In fact, he seemed to be rather fond of the shiny, silver contraption, running his teeth across the handle grips and licking it, as if to say “Hey this is pretty cool, and it tastes great too!”

After the trainer spent about 45 minutes taking him through the audition, Dayna and I both had the chance to ride him. From the moment I sat on him and took the first lap around the fence, I knew he was my boy. My body was perfectly in tune to his rhythm, as if I had been riding him for years. I felt safe and secure, and as we trotted around the arena, the true definition of balance and stability was revealed.  Riding him was a feeling like no other. A sense of complete peace entered me, and I felt it was God’s presence whispering softly in my ear, “This is the blessing I’ve been saving for you.”

 He was exactly what we had been looking for; there was no comparison between Eclipse and the appaloosa.  Dayna and I looked at each other and said, “This is it.”

“Dayna,” I said, with slight fear in my voice, “I am really scared to tell mom this is my horse. She is dead set on the appaloosa. This might break her heart, but I know he’s the answer to my prayers.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll help you tell her.”

I knew how much my mom valued Dayna’s opinion, and if she felt like this was the right horse, then mom would too. Dayna had been our guiding light throughout the process, telling us “No” on several prospects that we thought would work. She was meticulous and thorough about finding the perfect match; she knew this was not a decision I could just rush into. She kept telling me along the way that the right horse was out there, but that I just had to be patient until we found him. I trusted Dayna’s judgment more than anyone, and I knew that when she finally said “Yes,” that would be the horse that was meant for me. 

  “Mom,” I said, with a worried look in my eye and excitement in my heart, “I have to tell you something. I have made my decision; Dayna thinks it’s the right one.  I know with every beat of my heart that Eclipse and I are meant to be together. Please don’t be mad.”

“Honey,” she said, shamefully, “All that matters to me is that you’re safe and happy. Yes, I did love the appaloosa, but I know I will love Eclipse even more.”

I took a deep breath and hugged her tight.

That summer day changed my life. The Lord blessed me with the most incredible gift, and I will be eternally grateful for my beautiful Eclipse. He has brought so much joy into my life and filled the deep void in my heart in more ways than one. God used him to help me understand that the challenges life brings are always used for good for those that trust and rely on God’s guidance.  Through Eclipse, I have been taught to appreciate everything life has to offer: the highs and lows, the struggles and the successes.  He is so much more than just a horse; he is an angel sent to show me how to love myself and be proud of the person God made me to be.  I believe that God sent him to me for a purpose and to carry me through this journey. I understand now that my disability is not a punishment; I was simply not made to walk alone. I just needed to wait for my partner, my other half, my companion who would help me along the journey and carry me along the way. It took twenty four years to understand that I can walk, that I am walking, and with something far better than two legs. I am walking by the grace of God, for I am walking with hooves.

It's All in God's Hands

I quickly began to realize (after several appointments) that horse shopping is not like purchasing a dog, where you get to choose what breed you like, a male or female, color etc.  You choose your dog, but as every horse person knows, your horse chooses you.  Throughout the whole process, I looked at what felt like a thousand horses. We got up at four in the morning, drove back and forth across the state, up and down the back roads and highways looking at horse after horse after horse. Every ad I came across that seemed to have potential turned out to be nothing more than lies, scams, and clever marketing schemes played out on a naive rookie. Horses listed as young, fully trained, and sound turned out to be old, green, and in need of much training, and with each additional appointment, I began to lose hope.

I started to question whether owning a horse was really part of God’s plan for my life. I would ask mom on a regular basis, “ Do you think I am wasting my time?...Do you think this is God telling me to move on to something else?” Like always, she would say, “Honey, I don’t know what His plan is for you, but I know it’s something great. All you have to do is trust Him, and ask Him to reveal it to you.” 

The Lord tells us to pray without ceasing, and that is exactly what I did. I prayed, endlessly.

 “Lord, if owning a horse is not what You want for me, I am completely OK with that, because all I want is to follow Your will.”  I continued to pray, searched through ads, and waited for God to send an answer. Early one morning Dayna, Mom and I set out to see yet another horse. I was excited and reserved all at the same time; I didn’t want to get my hopes up again for nothing, but when we arrived at one of the most beautiful barns I had ever seen, my heart started to race with excitement and hope. It was immaculate. You could have eaten off the floor, it was nicer than most houses, and the horses were absolutely gorgeous. Each one was treated like royalty, with their own brass-gated stalls, heated water troughs, and cared for by some of the sweetest and most loving people I have had the pleasure of meeting. I knew then that this appointment was going to be different and not like our previous trips.  

The horse that was for sale was beautiful, a stunning appaloosa, his tall white body covered in the dark chocolate spots that are the signature markings of a leopard appaloosa. Even more important than his beautiful appearance was his sweet and loving personality. He was gentle and kind, obviously attached to his doting owner, and followed her like a puppy dog as she moved through the barn.  I knew that if he loved her that much, he could possibly love me too, and in my opinion,  that made him a perfect match. My mom and I both started to fall in love with this handsome gelding.

 Dayna rode him first to see if his gaits fit what I needed. Overall, she thought he had potential and thought I should give him a try. My mom was “oohing” and “ahhing” over him and dreaming of taking him home. She fell hard and quickly and was convinced we had found the one. As I mounted him and placed myself in the center of his back, my heart pounding with anticipation and my stomach full of butterflies, I had hope again that I was meant to have my own horse. This really could be the one.

I rode him for a few minutes but realized almost immediately that something was off. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach,  I knew in the depths of my heart this was not the right horse for me. I felt very unbalanced, and his gaits were too fast and too long for me to sit properly or ride confidently. Even though he appeared smooth in his stride, the feeling and the appearance didn’t match, and I felt like I had no control over him. I kept a smile on my face and continued to ride for several more minutes, trying to convince myself that he could work.  After dismounting, my mom anxiously asked me what I thought about him, and with extreme guilt, I lied and told her I thought he would work out fine. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her that he wasn’t a good fit; I didn’t want to let go of my dream or disappoint my mom, because she already loved him so much and so desperately wanted to find me my own horse.

On the way home mom and I asked Dayna what she thought of him. Without knowing my true feelings, she said, “I like him, but I think we need to see one more before you decide.  I’m not completely sold on him. He’s good, but I think he needs some work to get him to where you need him to be. Something just didn’t seem quite right with his movements and I want to make sure we make the right decision.”

Mom was disappointed, but I knew that Dayna was spot-on in her intuition, because I felt the same way and knew this was not the horse for me. My mom couldn’t stop talking about how much she loved the appaloosa, how beautiful he was, what a great history he had, how well cared for he was, how sweet his disposition was, and on and on and on. In her mind, there was nothing more to see. This was it. Cut the check. Hook up the trailer. Haul him home.

Before narrowing it down and making our final decision, we had a meeting the following day to see one more horse. Against mom’s will, Dayna and I were both insistent that we keep this appointment. It was to check out a horse from an ad I had run across several times but hadn’t called because he was out of my price range. Oddly, I kept coming back to this ad time after time after time. It just kept popping up in all my searches, and something kept telling me I needed to call.  After months of no luck and hours of tirelessly looking, I finally convinced my mom that we just needed to look at him before writing him off.  She reluctantly agreed, mainly because she was weary of looking and desperate to find something.

As I waited for the next day to arrive, all I could do was pray and put it in God’s hands. He knew the right answer for my prayers, and the ultimate decision had already been made. Whatever the outcome, it was all part of His perfect plan.

The Search Begins

After a few rides in my brand new saddle, it wasn’t long that I began to do the one thing I had promised myself and my parents I wouldn’t. I had gone back on my promise and starting begging my mother for a horse.

“Please, please, please, Mom,” I pleaded in a desperate tone. “Will you just think about letting me take this next step?”

 She would quietly laugh and say, “I knew this was coming,” and go on about her day.  Little did she know I already had a plan in the works. Every night I would come home from the barn, run up to my room and excitedly begin searching various websites of horses for sale. I was extremely discrete about this operation and didn’t want to rush it. I would wait and tell her about my nightly routine when I came across an ad that was worth looking into. A few months latter, I thought I had found the one. It was for a flea bitten appaloosa gelding (flea bitten refers to the markings on his body, not to a horse infested with parasites!). He was a good age… not too young that he was still green, but old enough to have many years of potential left in him. My heart was racing at the thought of actually having to show my mom this find. I mean, this wasn’t like asking for a hamster or even a dog; this was a living, breathing animal the size of a small truck. This was an investment that would take hours of physical labor and care and most importantly, a huge financial commitment. Knowing all of this, I was ready to take on the task wholeheartedly.

 I had worked a full time job the year after high school and had saved every penny of my salary. I had also saved every bit of graduation, birthday, and Christmas money ever received, so I was ready and willing to make the biggest financial commitment of my life. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and walked into the room to face my mom. Anyone that knows me knows that when I get excited and nervous, I start laughing ridiculously. My mom knows me better than anyone, and she immediately knew the wheels were turning in my mind.

 “What do you want?” she asked as I handed her a folded up piece of paper hidden in my pocket.

“Please just let me explain everything to you before you give me your answer,” I nervously began. “And promise you won’t be mad and say NO right off.  Please just think about it. OK? “

She sighed, knowing she would never hear the end of it unless I had my say.

“Go ahead,” Mom patiently replied.

“Well, you know, many of the riders at the barn have their own horses,  and I think it would be ideal for me to have a horse of my own, too, simply because I could go out to the barn and ride any time I wanted and for as long as I wanted, and do you know how good it would be for me to have the chance to ride every day? Can you imagine the strength I would gain?” I could barely catch my breath as I rambled on, 100 miles a minute, giving her thousands of reasons for why this was a brilliant idea.

“Look,” I stated eagerly, as I pointed at the picture on the ad I had given her. “I have already found a possible candidate.”

 She paused for a few moments as she pondered the massive amount of information I had just thrown at her, and then came something I never imagined. She looked at the ad, then looked up at me and said “OK. I don’t see why we can’t just go look.”

I just about fell on the floor in complete and utter shock.

“WHAT????” I screamed, “Are you SERIOUS?”

 “Yes, you have shown that you are committed to the sport. I think that if you are going to be riding continually, you are going to need a horse that knows your specific needs and will carry you through this journey for years to come.  I will call and set up the appointment.”

I sat there stunned for a moment, then hugged her neck, never wanting to let go.

I like to think that in certain moments, God shows us little glimpses of heaven. This was one of those moments.

I experience this feeling every time I am on the back of a horse. The way it feels when I am trotting around the arena, with the wind blowing my hair, like I am soaring above the clouds, with the Lord’s precious hand guiding my every direction. It is a moment and a feeling that is completely inexpressible and unexplainable, but I know it is the Lord at work.  And I believe it is for moments like these that God created horses.

It's not just a sport....

To say I had been bitten by the riding bug was a huge understatement. I was completely enamored with the sport, and it was all I could think about and talk about. I went from riding just one day a week to riding three and four. I read books about riding. I watched movies about horses. I searched the internet for any information that would further expand my knowledge. I studied the methods of Clinton Anderson, signed up for horse clinics, and followed every group about horses on Facebook and other social media sites. Then, I started browsing through catalogs and magazines looking at tack and saddles.

Not long after I began riding Jet, I started explaining to Mom the importance of having my own saddle.

“Mom,” I pleaded with her day after day, “Every rider has to have a saddle… one that fits their body and their horse to a T. I’m not asking for a horse, just a saddle that I can call my very own, one that conforms to my body, one just for me.”

She insisted that I keep riding for a while longer to make sure that I would stick with the sport. She knew me well (I got frustrated rather easily and tended to jump from activity to activity) and wasn’t willing to invest the money until she was absolutely sure this was going to be more than just another hobby on an extended list of failed interests.  It wasn’t long, however, that she realized this was not just another activity…this was my growing passion, my way to independence and my ticket to freedom.

The day came after graduation when I had finally saved up enough money to be able to go to the tack room pick out my very own saddle. Dayna came with me to guide me and help decide which saddle would be the perfect fit for all my needs. I had started riding English and working on some dressage, so I had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for, but the options were endless. There were English and western, synthetic and leather, jumping saddles, dressage saddles, all-purpose saddles, close contact saddles, one for every discipline, not to mention the choice of colors, primarily black or brown. It was very overwhelming to say the least. We spent about two and half hours trying various ones, eliminating some rather quickly, and trying some more than once. We got the giggles as Mom and Dayna lifted me on and off the mounting “horse” about two hundred times, and I quickly learned the proper technique for gracefully falling off a “horse” as I was slung on and off, off and on! Thankfully, the sales associate had not only worked with disabled riders but also had a great sense of patience and humor, and after much consideration, I decided on a beautiful black suede Wintec Dressage saddle. My joy was multiplied when I found out that the tack store was giving me a free monogrammed silver name plate to be installed on the seat of MY saddle, leaving no doubt who was the proud owner of such a beautiful treasure.

Growing up, I could never understand why my brother loved football so much. He was always so excited when he got his new jersey with his number for that season, and he would proudly spread his helmet, pads, and other equipment across the garage after each game. I remember many times thinking, “What’s the big deal? It’s just a sport, ”  but now, as I walked out of the store with my first official piece of equipment, my eyes had been opened to his world.  I could fully grasp and comprehend the joy he felt when playing his beloved sport. I wanted to take my saddle everywhere and show everyone. I wanted to spread it out across the middle of the floor for all to see.  I had truly become an obnoxious equestrian.

That saddle elevated my level of confidence and my own personal feelings of self-worth. From the moment I first tacked up Jet with my new purchase, I felt like a rite of passage had occurred, as if I were truly part of the team. I was so proud to be able to participate in a physical activity, but I quickly realized that riding was so much more than just a sport. It was not just about the tack, or being part of the group. It was about discovering me, who I was, and God’s purpose for my life

Through this experience, the Lord opened up so many doors and taught me so many valuable lessons. I gained a whole new perspective on life. I found a network of friends who genuinely love me and value my friendship; I had the opportunity to participate rather than just observe from the sidelines; I learned how it felt to have every muscle in your body ache after a long, hard intensive workout; I learned to support my fellow athletes in their own personal struggles, successes, and feats; I learned that it is not the quantity of friends you have but the quality. However, I think the most important lesson I learned was one that could never be taught: self-acceptance. There was a time in my life when I wanted to change each and everything about myself. In fact, I wanted to be someone totally different. I had the hardest time understanding why God would heal others and not me. Had I done something wrong? Was He mad at me? Did He not love me?

 To think back on it, I can’t believe I ever had any doubt of His love for me.  He showed His love and mercy in something far better than any kind of physical healing. He showed me through the healing and renewing of my heart, mind and soul; He showed me that what you think you need and want is often not what you really need or want at all. He showed me that His healing love can come through anything, and in my case, it was through a horse.