A Talking Horse?

I was standing Friday evening inside my barn  watching my mare. I had the door slightly open and I was leaning against the stall wall, talking softly to her. But her attitude was anything but friendly. Her ears were flat back against her head, and she had turned her backside toward me. I didn't move, just quietly stood there talking to her and wondering if she would ever trust me again.

This past Monday I had asked my farrier ( the man who shoes horses, in case you don't know equestrian vocabulary) to give my two horses their yearly shots. My husband usually did it, but he was practically immobile with back pain. The problem occurred when the shot was given too high in the muscle, which caused the mare pain and swelling. She was definitely angry with me, baring her teeth and threatening to kick.  I had worked so hard in the past  trying to earn her trust. She had been born on our farm, and now was in her early twenties.  Ever since she was young and we had sent her off for training, she had a very distrusting mentality towards humans. We always knew she must have been mistreated and abused during those early years of her life to have developed such a fear and inability to trust the very people who truly loved and cared for her.

So I stood talking in a soothing voice, watching and wondering if the situation would ever be redeemable, if she would ever really trust me even in the slightest.

As I gave a deep sigh, thinking of the alternatives if she did not respond positively, it was as if I heard a still quiet voice call my name. "Sally, your mare is just like you. Can't you see? When she was young, she innocently trusted humans. But the first time they caused her pain, she developed a seed of mistrust. Each time something happened that caused her  more pain at the hand of a human, that seed grew. This new pain is making it very hard for her to trust you, even though you love her."

Wow, the picture of my life! So suddenly crystal clear. The people I innocently trusted as a child repeatedly hurt me. It definitely has had it's impact on my ability to trust, even the people who truly love me. Not to mention my ability to trust a God who I cannot see.

But the good news for me is that God kept quietly waiting at my heart's door, as I was standing now at my horses's stall door. He kept speaking softly to me, understanding my fears and mistrust. And one day I finally  turned around and welcomed Him into the deepest places of my fears. I am still learning day by day to trust Him more and realizing how very much He loves me.

My mare still cautiously watches  me, not daring to show any sign of welcoming my presence.  Yet God's gentle voice spoke through her straight to my heart, revealing more of my own self, bringing more healing to my life.  He used a donkey to talk to a man once. Friday night, he used a horse.