Ever been on horse back? I’ve been fortunate enough to sit in the saddle several times in my life. My preferred horse will always be the one with a gentle, cooperative nature. The one who nonchalantly allows me to lead our journey and doesn’t mind me keeping a nice, tight grip on the reins. No free-spirited steeds for me, thank you. If I am sitting on top of a thousand pound animal, I’d like to know that he is willing to let me “drive”.
I actually had a frightening experience during riding lessons as a kid. My horse unexpectedly laid down in the dirt and tried to roll over with me on his back. My foot was caught in the stirrup and I couldn’t break free. Needless to say, I was terrified. My instructor wisely made me “get back in the saddle”, but that afternoon I vowed to never lose control of a riding situation again. Oh, not because I vowed to become a more skilled rider. But because I promised myself I would only ride easy-going horses in the future.
life is an unpredictable, half-ton animal
So, the reins in this story are figurative and the horse is really a metaphor for life. Life is an unpredictable half-ton animal, and we are strapped on top for the duration of the ride. What if my life tries to roll over and I am somehow trapped in the “stirrup”? What if I can’t control the situation and I get crushed underneath? Sounds dangerous. No, thank you! I’ll just keep a nice tight hold of these “life reins” here, and then I can enjoy the ride. No surprises. No harm. Even if I can’t see what’s coming up ahead, I have confidence in my ability to manage as long as I have a nice, tight grip on the reins.
But, today’s story didn’t take place in a horse barn. It took place in a medical waiting room.
controlling the Clydesdales
Our son, Luke (two months old at the time), had started weekly outpatient physical therapy appointments at the local children’s hospital. The diagnosis at that time was nothing super alarming. We caught it right away and intervened early so a smallish problem (think miniature pony) did not become a biggish problem (think Budweiser Clydesdale) down the road.
Anyway, I was 100% confident that Luke would overcome the obstacle. After all, I had a nice, tight grip on the “reins”. We had Luke with the right specialists, and I was skillfully following through at home between appointments. At the time, I was trying to figure out how much to be Luke’s attentive home therapist and how much to just be his snugly mom. To be completely honest, I am still trying to figure that out. One thing for certain, my husband nicknamed me the “Tummy Time Tyrant” with good reason.
pulling so hard on the reins is exhausting
Only problem? I was exhausted. Worn out. I was single-handedly orchestrating appointments with multiple therapists, applying for medical grants and staying on top of Luke’s needs at home. Add to that the drain of working full-time in a super stressful work environment, parenting two other “kids” with high school and college stressors, and trying to keep the house relatively clean. And let’s be honest – my standards for what passes as “clean” has shifted over the years. Somewhere in there, I just completely gave up on being an A+ wife. (A “C” is passing, right?!?!) And crap, when was the last time I actually cooked a meal that included fresh vegetables? Ugh – I cannot keep up!
a gentle reminder
While prayerfully lamenting about my mental fatigue that morning in the therapy waiting room, God gently reminded me that I had snatched the reins back from him. That He never intended for us to do life “single-handedly”. He lovingly reminded me of several times in my past when I had no choice but to rely on Him and the other people He placed in my path. Melissa, I always come through with the right resources for your best possible outcome, whatever that may be. How many times have I brought hope and healing out of your lowest moments (aka your piles of horse poop)?
Our adoption journey to Luke would be a classic example. Allan and I completely surrendered the reins to God in May of 2018 after unsuccessfully trying to control the outcome of that rocky path for over four years. We had to let go of the reins even further less than one week later when Luke was born (surprise!), and we dropped everything to go meet him with no advanced warning. There were no specific plans and no guarantees. We truly had little to no control atop this wild half-ton stallion running at break-neck speed into the unknown.
desperate times call for an expert
In that most desperate and seemingly impossible set of circumstances, we gave over complete control to Him. Truly, our only choice in those chaotic days was to surrender control completely and let God take the reins out of our weary grip. My prayers went something like this… “Please just show us the next step we need to take, one at a time. We want whatever You want. We trust You with the outcome, whatever that may turn out to be.”
I don’t know exactly when I decided to snatch back my nice, tight grip on the reins after we returned home with beautiful, little Luke in our arms. I don’t actually recall it happening. However, at some point I started my exhausting attempt to control every outcome again. If I had to guess, I’d say the reins crept back into my hands gradually, without me even noticing. Sneaky! It shocks me how easily I am tempted back into old habits and away from all the lessons I have learned.
I see you, fellow control enthusiasts
So, fellow control enthusiasts, let’s do this thing together. Right now. Ready?
Deep breath…
Exhale…
Now gently drop the reins.
That’s right. Just lay those sneaky suckers down and breathe.
You see, we all need gentle reminding now and then. In other words, reminders that God loves us enough to handle us with care when we trust Him with our fragile selves. But what if we get off course because of unexpected rocky terrain, loose footing or our own human miscalculations? No worries. He promises us Light to get us back onto the path. But what if we travel through thorny, painful places? And we inevitably WILL, right? He promises to be there with us in those moments, too. We just need to loosen our tight grip and embrace the unpredictable ride. We are never alone. He promises.
Image by Miriam Müller from Pixabay.
