Great Horse Stories (22 page)

Then cars would pull forward to an open-sided, wooden hut. Under a spotlight, “Luke” sat at his desk writing the Christmas story on scrolls. Next was Laurie as Mary, dressed in a big skirt and seated on Annabelle, who was being led by Laurie's husband dressed as “Joseph.” Following them, some shepherds stood around a campfire. Nobody in the community had sheep, so they used goats instead.

An innkeeper sat at the No-Room Inn. Next was a spotlight that shone brightly in the top of a tree to illuminate a local tree-service guy dressed up as an “angel of the Lord.” He would periodically blow a trumpet that would blast through the cold night air announcing Jesus' birth. Then he'd wave at the people.

A spectacular stable scene came next, featuring another Mary and Joseph, the baby Jesus, and a few miniature donkeys. The last stop was a choir singing Christmas carols. Their beautiful melodies drifted throughout the whole production.

Laurie took a deep breath as one of the guys made a stirrup with his hands. She stepped up and straddled Annabelle. Slowly the headlights of the cars pierced the darkness and pulled into the U-shaped driveway. For the next two nights, through sleet and snow, Annabelle calmly carried Mary back and forth to “Bethlehem.” Annabelle would stop when a new car would drive up. The people were excited to see Mary on a real, live donkey. They asked questions and snapped pictures. Annabelle didn't even mind the flashes from the camera!

Over 100 cars wound around the U-shaped driveway during the two evenings. Not bad for a community of only a couple hundred people. People's lives were touched, and a misfit, floppy-eared donkey finally found her place in life—a starring role in the Christmas story.

When Bonnie emailed me the picture of Annabelle carrying Mary, I instantly fell in love with the little spotted gal with gargantuan ears
and a loud hee-haw. Misfits play big parts in God's plans. Look at the variety of people God included in His Word. Most of the disciples weren't handsome or famous. Many of them were sweaty fishermen—working-class people. Ordinary men God worked through to accomplish extraordinary things. God carries that same theme through to completion, revealing that His thoughts are opposite of the world's. Most kings of the world rode magnificent horses, but God chose a lowly donkey to carry His Son to Jerusalem. On His celebrated ride, Jesus rode the misfit of the equine kingdom (Matthew 21:2-5). The apostle Paul marveled about the lowly misfits God chooses to work with and through:

My dear friends, remember what you were when God chose you. The people of this world didn't think that many of you were wise. Only a few of you were in places of power, and not many of you came from important families. But God chose the foolish things of this world to put the wise to shame. He chose the weak things of this world to put the powerful to shame (1 Corinthians 1:26-27
CEV
).

Those misfits whom God has chosen resemble uniquely shaped pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. The picture won't be complete without all of us. Like Annabelle in the Christmas play and sweaty fishermen who became disciples, each of us has an important role to play in carrying the good news of Jesus Christ to the world. No matter how lowly or how much of a misfit you think you are, there's a place for you in God's plan!

Lord, reveal my role in Your great plan. Amen.

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Thoughts to Ponder
•

Do you feel like a misfit? That you're on the outside looking in? Have you considered that your unique qualities make you an asset in God's kingdom? How do you think God wants you to use your special traits and abilities for Him?

34

GENTLE HEARTS

Gentle Giant

T
he clop, clop, clop, clop of Honey's hooves on the dirt shoulder of the road drifted through the small, rural neighborhood in Minnesota. Fields of green grain carpeted the rolling hills. Seventeen-year-old Jami took up some slack in the reins as her chestnut-red horse drifted toward the upcoming driveway. Jami chuckled. Ever since she'd started selling Avon from horseback, Honey had turned into a social butterfly. She insisted on turning down every driveway because she knew there might be a kind lady who would offer her an apple or a carrot.

Jami glanced down the driveway and spotted Janet, a good friend and close neighbor. She was playing with her nine-month-old son, Drew, on an expanse of freshly mowed lawn in the center of a circular drive. Jami guided her mare down the driveway. She stopped Honey at the edge of the lawn. The saddle creaked as she dismounted. After dropping the reins, she dug an Avon catalog out of the saddlebags. Honey knew the routine. She instantly lowered her head and cropped the lush, green grass.

Jami smiled at Drew as she strolled toward them. The baby was sitting on the lawn in a T-shirt, diaper, and bare feet. He grinned at her and giggled.

The warm summer sun lulled Jami and Janet as they browsed through the catalog and chatted about their past week. Jami glanced over to check on her horse. She stared in amazement. Honey was still nibbling on the grass, but her large, brown eyes were locked on Drew. The baby sat inches away from Honey's nose. Jami's mind ran wild.
Oh my gosh! He's right there! That's dangerous!
She knew any sudden
movement might scare Honey, and she could accidentally trample the child. She held her breath as the next few moments seemed to unfold in slow motion.

The chunky, blond-haired and blue-eyed infant was enthralled with his new discovery. Instead of slapping the horse with waving hands like most infants do, Drew was carefully exploring her face with his pudgy fingers. Honey slowed her chewing. It was almost as if the mare and child were silently communicating with each other. Gently the child traced her nostrils and stroked the white furry star on her forehead. Placing a hand on either side of Honey's nose, he clung to her bridle.

•
Jami's horse Honey
•

Jami froze.
How will Honey take someone yanking on her bridle?

Hand over hand the child pulled himself up halfway and teetered.

Jami's heart raced.
Oh my! He's climbing up her face! Honey won't like that. I've got to do something—but what without scaring her or startling Drew?

Drew pulled himself all the way upright.

Jami, relieved at Honey's calm manner, looked over at Janet.

Janet wasn't upset at all. Instead she seemed entranced by the beauty of the moment.

An almost palpable bond was being woven between the child and the big, red horse. Wobbling, Drew grabbed Honey's ears, one in each hand, to steady himself. He wiggled his bare feet. He rocked forward and back. Honey didn't flinch or move a hoof. She seemed to be
enjoying his curiosity. After what seemed like eternally long moments to Jami, Drew plopped on the grass and found something else to explore.

Jami breathed a sigh of relief, but the wonder of those moments still captivates her.
How can a creature so big and powerful as Honey be so gentle?

That's the same question I often wonder about God. How can a Being who created galaxies and hung the stars in place be so gentle and kind with me…with us? The explanation is
agape
love. In the Greek language the New Testament was written in,
agape
refers to God's kind of love—complete, unconditional, and unwavering. It's hard to understand the depth of that kind of love without looking at Jesus. He reflected the nature of God while He walked on earth (Hebrews 1:3).

When I'm reading the New Testament, one of my favorite stories is found in Matthew 19:13. The people were bringing their children to Jesus so He could bless them. The disciples tried to shoo the parents and children away, thinking Jesus was too busy to waste time on children. But Jesus told them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14). Jesus never pushed children away; He always welcomed them with open arms.

These words become extra special when combined with John 1:12: “To all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Wow! Once we've accepted Christ as our Lord and Savior, God looks at us as His children. His gentle heart overflows with love for us. Like Drew with Honey, we can get up close and personal with God and explore who He is without fear.

There are many times when I read through the Bible that I'll come to a passage that befuddles me. I'll pause to consider the teaching. I often feel a kinship with Drew when he explored Honey's face. I cling to a few words, like Drew did to Honey's ears, and roll them over and over in my mind as I ask God to reveal His wisdom. Then the warmth of joy radiates through my spirit as God welcomes my innocence and curiosity. He always impresses the answer on my spirit. Like Honey towering over Drew, God towers over us, but He is gentle and never
pushes us away. The most powerful Being in the universe has the gentlest heart of all. He wants to be our best friend and guide.

Lord, please reveal Your gentle heart. Amen.

•
Thoughts to Ponder
•

Do you think of God as being all-powerful yet gentle very often? Do you agree that He welcomes your curiosity about Him? Have you looked at yourself as a child going to your heavenly Father when you have questions? What would you like to ask Him? Why not ask Him now?

35

SNICKERS

The Circle of Love

T
he back door slammed shut. Heather, who was sitting at the kitchen table, glanced up at nine-year-old David. Tears were streaming down his thin face as he rushed inside. His back was hunched over from scoliosis. His tousled black hair fell into his eyes. He paused and stammered, “I'm a throwaway kid.” Sobbing, he rushed into his bedroom.

When Heather heard another door shut, she guessed David had hidden in the closet. His mournful wails pierced Heather's heart and tears welled up in her eyes.
Lord, how can I help this hurting little boy?

Heather and her husband, Josh, had been foster parents for 10 years. When their last daughter graduated high school, they decided to quit fostering. By a fluke encounter, a local foster care and adoption agency found out about their experience and begged them to consider doing it again. After replying to the many phone calls with firm no's, they prayed about it again. They felt led to become recertified.

Shortly after that, the agency called about a little boy who needed an interim home while they searched for a permanent place. Heather replied, “I'll talk it over with my husband.”

The man at the agency, Matt, said, “This little boy is nine years old. His name is David.”

Heather rested her head on her hand.
Oh, you shouldn't have said his name,
she thought.
Now he's not just an anonymous kid; he has a name.

Matt explained that for a year the boy had been in a home that planned on adopting him, but the father had hit the child. “Would you take him for a couple of weeks?”

Heather shocked herself when she said yes. That evening she greeted
Josh with the story and the news that Matt would be bringing the boy over the next day. Josh felt peace in his heart about the decision too.

It was a balmy Saturday morning in February when a gray car pulled into Josh and Heather's driveway. The sun glinted off the snowcapped Rocky Mountain peaks that towered over their pasture. They were in the corrals brushing the horses.

Matt unwound his six-foot, five-inch frame from the car. Weighing in around 265 pounds, he resembled a gentle giant. David scrambled out of the car and instantly hid his scrawny, 42-pound body behind one of Matt's legs.

Heather and Josh walked over, and while they greeted each other, Heather watched the wild-eyed child peek his head around Matt's leg. The boy's wide eyes showed he was terrified.

They all moved into the kitchen. As the adults chatted around the kitchen table, the boy sat and clutched his backpack. He was so thin that his brown eyes appeared sunken and were rimmed with dark circles. His elbows looked like knobs that protruded from his arms.

When Matt stood up to leave, David grabbed onto his legs. Matt gently pried the child's arms loose and set him in the chair. Bending over, he looked into David's eyes and said, “You have to stay.”

David shook his head and wailed, “No!” He kept clinging to Matt, and Matt patiently continued to set the boy in the chair.

After Matt went out the door, got into his car, and drove away, David hugged his backpack and announced, “I'm not staying. I'm going home pretty soon.”

When the boy went to bed the first few nights, he refused to climb under the covers. He wasn't going to settle in. He was barely willing to open his backpack, which contained some clothes and a cherished Green Bay Packers fleece blanket. During the daytime, David would fly into fits of rage over what seemed to be nothing.