Hard Deliverance

From a distant place, the clatter of horseshoes on concrete interrupted my sleep. I struggled to come to grips with its meaning.  When the noise dragged me awake, I shot out of bed.  Dashing into the breezeway of the barn, my worst fears were realized. Nubbin had his head stuffed in a grain barrel.  When he heard me, he looked up blinking as if to say “What’s your problem?”  My problem was the possibility of losing him to death or permanent lameness.  

As every horse owner knows, horses love grain, and it’s good for them in small doses.  But their digestive system can’t  handle the large amounts they consume if left to their own devices. Colic and/or a condition called founder, often result.  The effect of the latter is something akin to smashing your thumbnail with a hammer. A carbohydrate overload sends blood rushing to the feet, and it becomes trapped behind the hard-shelled hoof. In extreme cases, horses can no longer walk and have to be put down. Colic, in and of itself isn’t terminal, but the cure a horse seeks is.  Looking for relief, they roll and thrash around on the ground.  This can lead to a twisted intestine which is usually fatal.

So, standing there in the cold barn, I chastised myself for forgetting to properly secure Nubbin’s stall latch.  I sighed, caught my horse, and shut him away from the thing he loved most in that moment. I then, called the vet.  We determined he probably hadn’t gotten enough grain to founder, but to avoid colic, I needed to walk him for a couple of hours. Walking keeps the digestive process moving.  Since it would be half that long until daylight, I rode him, in a lot of small circles, in the pool of fluorescent light just outside the barn. Riding circles is good training for a horse.  Among other things, it teaches them suppleness so they easily give to commands communicated through legs or reins.  But for a rider, especially one bereft of sleep, it can get old fast.

A thin line of silver appeared on the gray horizon, and something besides a new day began to dawn on me. Sometimes in our spiritual and emotional lives we find ourselves in toxic situations like the one facing my horse that morning.  The causes are many. Maybe it was our own lustful appetite, or perhaps, as in my horses case, it was the result of a caretaker’s neglect. Or it could be that we’ve suffered great loss or  have been abused. Whatever the reason, the result is the same: we are sick and in pain.

The temptation is to seek relief, no matter what the price.  Just as a horse with colic wants to roll to help its distress, our pain can lead us to bad decisions, some of which are fatal.  We look for all kinds of escapes—overeating, drugs, alcohol, and bad relationships only start the list. 

But God has another plan.  He wants us to walk it out, with Him in the saddle. He wants to ride through it with us. Our job, is to cling to His every word and keep moving.  Often the only light we have is as dim and small as a fluorescent pool shining down from an outside barn light.  It doesn’t seem like much compared to the vast black night surrounding us, and it’s easy to feel like we aren’t going anywhere.  

The truth is we are going somewhere.  We are going through a process that will free us and make us strong. Whether we choose to walk it out with God, or thrash around on the ground looking for our own solutions, there will be misery and pain.  One pain leads to life, the other to death.  My prayer for you is that you choose life.

“And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make the darkness light before them, and crooked things straight.  These things will I do unto them and not forsake them.”–Isaiah 42:16

© 1998 Jean Nelsen