Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Broken down horses









I'm kind of feeling like a broken down horse this morning. You'd think I'd be an old hat at this "my son is leaving to Afghanistan" thing, since this is the third time, and it's his choice to take this job.






But I'm just as sad, just as anxious, just as wore down with the leaving.



I find myself spending time with the horses. Just being quiet with them. Well, I'm trying to be quiet but Ruby the ear less goat always has to pipe up ask for more hay, more water, more scratches.


The horses aren't quite themselves, either. We have Drifter, the big sorrel gelding. He likes to remind everyone that he is in charge.


Of everything.


All the time.


But right now he is calmly munching his morning hay, being warmed in the sun and smelling like a horse, which is what I am assuming at least a corner of Heaven must smell like.



We also have Cabela, or Bela, who is a gorgeous dark dappled palomino filly with snow white mane and tail. At least, she was. When she came here in February. Did I ever tell you the story of how she came here? I'll have to do that if I haven't.


Cabela knew she was a stunner Barbie doll horse perfectly designed by a Master Creator.



She has DIVA stamped in her DNA. Don't hate her because she is beautiful. But she gets it, if you do. She'll just toss her flowy white mane, stamp her hooves, flick her tail and dismiss you.


But Drifter didn't seem to realize that Bela was to be adored and served and from the minute she showed up here, he has run her from one end of the property to the other. (Which isn't saying much. But still.) She has ended up with nicks, scabs, bites and kicks all over her sparkly golden body. So we are separating them as they acclimate.



But it's so funny, because when we take her away from Drifter, Bela whinnies and calls and generally throws a little filly fit. She wants us to let her go back to Drifter. Back to her abuser, so to speak. It happens every time.


A. Maz.Ing.


I don't get it. Rod and I laugh as we watch her try bust through her stall door to get back to him.



It makes no sense whatsoever why she would continue to go back over and over and over, to the horse that continues to hurt her so much. Why does she think maybe THIS time it will be different and maybe he won't hurt her?




So, of course, God has to remind me of the things that I go back to, over and over and over, that continue to hurt me so much.



I am such a horse-head.



It doesn't matter if it is unhealthy food choices, poor financial habits(hello Nordstrom's sale!), television that should not be watched anywhere, for any reason,avoiding church or spending time with Jesus in prayer and reading the bible, or anything else that draws me away from real JOY.



Are you a horse-head, too?

4 comments:

E said...

Total horsehead here.

Brenda said...

Hi, my name is reader Brenda, and I am a horsehead!
Love you!

Robin Lambright said...

Horesheaded, pigheaded and just down right stubborn.....

You hit the nail on the head my friend!

How wonderful for you to have such beautiful animals to visit with. I pass a few stables each day and I get to see the horse in the pasture. I am always so struck by just how awesome they are to look at!

Blessings and prayers for your momma's heart. I can not imagine how difficult it is to send a loved one off to Afghanistan.....

R

Anonymous said...

yep...me too. Looks like you've got a full pasture of us.

and those "grown" kiddos are always on your heart! here or there or anywhere. With continual petitions for safety when we KNOW HE hears our first prayer.
Love ya Diane

Nancy