Let the horse do the work
“I want you to take your hands off the reigns and trot over the bars without holding on.” The instructor said.
“You want me to do what?” I looked down at her perplexed from atop a beautiful, large horse. I hadn’t ridden on a horse in over 20 years and I had only been on this one for about 15 minutes.
“You’re leaning forward with your shoulders, using your own power to keep you up.” She replied. “You need to sit back more and allow the horse to do the work.”
I’m a sports guy, I’ve played them my entire life. The instructor went on to explain that in sports you are trained to lead with your shoulder and in horseback riding it’s the complete opposite. There’s this large, powerful horse underneath you, and if you try to hard to control him you never end up going the right way.
Reluctantly I let go, and went trotting over the bars laid out on the ground. My arms stretched out wide, I felt so unstable and was terrified I was going to go flying off.
“Go again.” She said.
Sometimes we feel like we are so wrapped up in sin that there is no way out. I’m in to deep we say. And we start pulling on the reigns in panic. We pull and we tug, and we twist, and when we look up we realize we aren’t where we wanted to be.
In John 8 the Pharisees bring a women caught in the act of adultery and throw her at Jesus feet. We all know the story, Jesus stoops down and writes in the sand and says “if any of you are without sin, cast the first stone”.
There’s a disappointing point in this story: “At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time”. Who knows what Jesus wrote in the sand, maybe He was pointing out their sins. But don’t you wish that verse said “At this, they were grieved, and repented and they wept with Jesus”?
We are so conditioned to not want to hear the truth and we fight it when we are (Galatians 4:16). We argue, “I can do what I want, God forgives all sins.” While that is true, God’s grace is not permission to live like the world. If we continue to keep pulling the reigns we’re not going to head down the path the Lord has for us.
Just like my instructor, Jesus didn’t say hey go work on that, fix your life, come back and then we can talk. No! He talked to her right then and there, broken and naked, full of sin. My instructor didn’t condemn me but correct me and guide me. In the same way, Jesus did not come to condemn, but convict(John 3). Satan is the one in your ear condemning you, mocking you, and making you feel like you can’t get out.
As the Pharisees all walked away they left her in the best place she could be: alone with Jesus. And at that moment, alone with the Lord, is where He gives us direction. “Go and sin no more” He said.
I was left alone with my instructor. I could have chosen to keep my hands on the reigns and try to ride it out but she was only trying to allow me to grow and learn. And as I let go and allowed that strong horse to carry me I was a little terrified but when it was over I was proud of my accomplishment and stronger than before.
1 Peter 5:10 says “But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you”. You may be going through a trial right now. Maybe you are terrified to let go. But know that as Peter says, after you suffer the Lord will perfect you, establish you, strengthen you, and settle you.
Rely on the grace of the Lord. It’s not because we deserve it, it’s because He loves us and wants to give it to us. His grace is sufficient because His power is made perfect in our weakness. When we learn to let go and expose our weakness the Lord shows us His power to get us through what we thought was impossible.
As I rounded the circle and trotted back towards the bars for the second time, I spread my arms outstretched and let go. My mind raced with fear of falling but I pressed on, trusting the horse to do what he does time and time again, and when it was over I was strengthened.
As Christians we sit on the back of Jesus, the most powerful place we could be, but we don’t trust Him when we get in difficult situations. We pull and tug and try to use our own power but it just sends us in circles. When we finally let go and let Him lead us He delivers us from our trials and takes us to greener pastures(Psalm 23).
the hardest way to live
hey everyone,
thanks so much for all of your fantastic insight into this issue. i resonate with everything that was written and struggle with the implications of being a peacemaker in this world of violence. it is quite simply the most difficult way to live.
i have questioned, for quite some time, why it seems to be true that Christians (more than other people i speak with) have a hard time accepting that God asks us to love (and do good) to our enemies, to bless those who curse us and to turn the other cheek. not only does he ask us to live this way, but God himself lived this way through Jesus Christ.
why is it that we praise the martyrs of 1st and 2nd century christianity, but we are now baffled by those who would rather die and kill?
why do we continue to pluck out our brother’s and sister’s eyes for the wrongs they have committed against us?
why do we battle other christians, showing no love or compassion in our words, over trivial matters of theology?
why do we believe we can be pacifists by abstaining from physical violence, while neglecting to be peacemakers with our words?
the answer to all of these questions really is very simple…it’s not easy. Christ showed us the beautiful and selfless way of the cross, but we will always prefer the quick and easy way of the sword.
we still desire that which is the easiest and least costly.
if only we really believed what our Savior did and said.
peace
-dave-
Walking in Darkness
Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. ~Psalm 62:8
A little story I thought I’d pass along.
I hear a still small voice saying “trust me” as fears and doubts pour in my head daily. And I speak back saying “I want to but I can’t see you”. I feel like I’m in a pitch black building with no windows. There are obstacles all over the place and I’m bumping my knees and stubbing my toes. I’m crying, part from fear, part from pain, and I just want to get to the door where there is fresh air and sunlight. There are whispers all around and I hear the scurrying of little feet like nails on a chalkboard. My flesh tenses and my head darts from side to side but I still see nothing. I’ve been walking for hours and from the outside everyone could see that I’m walking in circles, but not me. The fears and doubts clutter my mind. They confuse my feet and keep me searching for answers I’ll never find. These moments keep me distracted from the door. I lose focus of where it is as I’m engaged in fighting the urge to scream at every creak and whisper. I bang my shin and am spun in another direction. Yet I don’t realize it because I’m worried about the pain. I run my fingers down it to feel the pain. Is there blood, is it broken? Do I need a banage? Can I walk? And stand up once again from my crouch, weary, as I head further in to the darkness but I’m heading south and the door isn’t this way. It’s been months, maybe years. I feel hungry and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, parched for water. My back is aching with shooting pains and my feet are blistered and bleeding.
And I hear it again, “trust me”. And I’m terrified.
“Is that You? I can’t see your face, who’s there?”
“Trust Me”.
I get discouraged. “How did I get here? LORD! how did I get here?”
Suddenly a flicker like a low burning candle in the distance. A quick glimmer casts a shadow. To my left, I CAN SEE IT! I turn and start to run, but my run turns to a hobble. I’m broken and hurting and can’t run. I’m limping as fast as I can and striving to make it. Have I found the way? And as quickly as it appeared I’ve lost the light. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Was it there? “I can do this” I think to myself. But my stride has fallen off and I’m walking again. Both hands stretched out in front of me passing frantically from left to right checking for danger.
I begin thinking about that voice. Trust me. What should I trust for? What decision was it meant for? I’ve asked so many questions and gotten no answers. Do I take the job or not? “trust me”. Do I end this relationship? “trust me”. My heart sinks as I realize how broken and disoriented I really am. The answer was there each time and yet I kept waiting. Dragging out the terms for a yes or a no, listening for only the word I wanted to hear. But there was no ‘yes’ and there was no ‘no’.
I felt something and looked down and He was holding my hand. And He reached up and touched my ear with His other hand and the ringing was gone. His eyes looked into mine and my mind was clear. And I was still crying but these tears were warm and each one filled my heart a little more. I could not speak but I knew His name and he said “Trust Me” and I saw that it was Him all along. And the words ran through my ears without ringing and entered my thoughts with clarity. I could see the answers to all my questions lying deep inside those words and it was so vibrant.
I felt warmth and opened my eyes and there was the sun. They were clenched tightly together this whole time and I looked around and my hands were over my ears so I could not hear. I turned and the door was behind me wide open. There was a moment of peace and reflection but I knew what I had to do. I turned and took a step in to the doorway and the door quickly slammed shut behind me. Darkness flooded over me and my eyes were pained as they fought for focus. And just as I went to take my first step I felt a hand slide in to mine and I turned my head slightly and heard “Trust Me”.
