Out of Control
1 Timothy 6:6-8: “But Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.”
I had ridden Chance, my Arabian horse, into Longfellow Park to check grass and see if there were any cattle still in the pasture. I often use Chance when working alone. He is steady, walks fast, and holds still when I take a picture. Some days I take 40 to 50 pictures. If I have to get off and remount every time I snap a photo I get pretty exasperated. Chance has another talent. When I get off to measure grazing utilization, I loop the reins through the breast collar of his saddle and he eats as I take notes. When he sees me start walking out my pace transect he walks over to where he thinks I will finish and is waiting for me at the end. I take a final photo back toward my starting point, get on and head to the next area. After working as a volunteer horse for about ten years, Chance has a pretty good idea where I will finish my transect. It is a small thing but all those small time savings add up. We are an efficient team.
The range rider for the grazing allotment had asked me to start any cattle I found in Longfellow Park down the trail a little ways just to get them on their way. I was beyond delighted to do this. Yeeha, a rare opportunity to move cows.
I had noticed five pair of black baldy cows while measuring grass in the large park, and when I finished my notes, Chance and I started them down the trail. It took some running and yelling to move the cows, who were more inclined to loaf in the timber at the edge of the park than to head down any trail. When we were finished Chance was wound up. Head high and tail waving like a banner he pranced down the trail. I made one final stop to measure grass in a park I had passed in the morning. I just let the reins drag this time so he wouldn’t try to keep after the cattle while I was on the ground. Snap. I turned just in time to see Chance break his bridle when he stepped on a rein. He is usually careful to avoid stepping on his reins. Things were adding up to a wreck. I tried to fix his bridle but it had broken at a critical point so I just tied it to the saddle, I would have to fix it later.
I had never ridden Chance with just a halter. He is steady and hardworking but he is also ambitious and loves to run. I picked up the lead rope and started walking down the trail. Soon my knees were hurting and I knew I had four miles to go. The 5 pair ahead of us joined 11 pair already going down the trail. I left them as the range rider had just wanted me to get them out of Longfellow. Chance was annoyed to leave the cattle behind. He loves to be in charge and wanted to keep them going. He tossed his head and switched his tail in anger. I tugged on the rope and kept going down the trail. Chance hates to be led. He missed no opportunity to try to crowd me off the trail and get ahead. Finally, I got back on with just the halter. For a few seconds all was well. Then Chance wanted to trot. I pulled back on the lead rope. He looked over his shoulder at me, rolling his eye in a knowing manner and trotted anyway. We were going uphill for at least a mile and a half so I wasn’t too worried. If he took off galloping he would have to stop eventually. As we were nearing the top of the ridge I tried again to slow him to a walk. I pulled firmly on the lead rope and he stopped this time, braced his front feet so he could turn his head back over his shoulder and look at me with both eyes.
His look said, “You are not in control, I am in control.” I didn’t like that look. I wanted to be in control. After all, I’m the one with the big brain. I can drive a truck and pull a horse trailer, I can buy hay, I am IMPORTANT.
Chance said, “I can run like the wind. I can buck you off, I’m the one with a flawless sense of direction that gets you back to the trailer every time we go somewhere. I am important”
I thought about bailing off while he was stopped. (Much better than bailing off at a full gallop), but he started off again at a trot and then eased into a slow gallop. I decided to trust him. I was enjoying the ride. The speed and smoothness of his gait was reassuring. As soon as we started downhill he slowed to a trot. I did not even attempt to pull on the halter rope again. I just adjusted myself to his speed and gave up control. It was wonderful. I realized I did not always have to call the shots. I did not always know best. Sometimes someone else wanted to express his ideas. He had been doing this job for ten years, he had earned some respect. When we reached the trailer we were both breathless and excited. There is joy in letting go.
Dear Jesus, Sometimes trusting you means trusting someone else. This is hard for me. I am afraid of getting hurt. I am afraid of getting lost. I am afraid everything will not turn out all right. You reminded me that I came with nothing, I will take nothing away but if I trust you I’ll enjoy the ride. Thank you for reminding me I am not in control. You are. Control could not be in a better place.
I love you.
Diane
