“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True.” Revelations 19:31
We are up to our necks with Easter baskets. Literally! It is the season where we make Easter baskets for kids, teens and adults-in-need. Much of our daily life centers on this…in these moments, right now.
But on Friday morning of last week, I received a text from my sister: “Went out to do the horse. Buffy is in bad shape.”
Buffy BarMcQue is my horse. Near my 16th birthday, my parents surprised me with a visit to a barn at someone’s house. There, in the center of a stall, stood a young two year old horse that had been badly neglected. She was a double registered Palomino quarter horse though she was brown from head to toe, covered in manure.
From a very young age, I had always dreamed of having my own horse. I used to look out the window of my bedroom in the middle of a subdivision and envision a beautiful white horse coming to beckon me for an adventure. As I looked at Buffy, my heart soared at the idea of having a horse. And so, my parents paid for her with the agreement that I would pay for half of her…she was to be my very own.
Now she was just two years old and not broke. I, myself, had grown up in the city and my parents had recently moved me to the country. I had been riding horses for some time, but training one I had never done…
There are many theories out there, and so our 4H leader at the time, a burly guy with quite the attitude, demanded that we follow his instructions. She needed a firm hand that would force her into submission. His assurances were that she would be broken with a couple of weeks if she was forced to believe she had to comply…and his methods were not at all pretty.
Shortly into the matter, I began to feel uncomfortable with the techniques and apparent cruelty that was happening at his hands to make her submit. Within a few days of this “training”, she reared up and fell straight over on me. By the grace of God and probably His Holy Spirit, as I had no idea how I did it, I ran down the back of her before she landed on me. It was then that I put her back in the barn realizing that I could be seriously hurt by this.
And I sunk into a bit of a depression. So many things in my life were not easy at that moment–moving to a new school, being a teen, hard transitions–and, this one–having my own horse to ride–well, it really hurt that it wasn’t just happening. It wasn’t coming easy. There I stayed in my room for many days. And there, in the barn, she stayed. Both of us biding our time trying to decide whether to give up on each other.
Then one day as I laid in my room thinking I realized that I really did have a choice. That I didn’t have to accept or surrender to his way being the “right” way. Brute force just didn’t feel right; it felt more like slavery. Let me tell you, brute force is almost never right in any arena of life. It was there that I came to understand that I didn’t have to do this the “typical” way–“the way that real horse trainers do” as I had been repeatedly told. I was smart, and I just started to believe that I…we…could figure this out in a much gentler approach as I barely knew her and she barely knew me.
So I went out to the barn, hooked her up to a lead, and began brushing her again. For hours on end, and for a long time, brushing, talking and getting her to know me better. She began to whinny when she would hear me coming. We took long walks around the property with her learning to listen to what I was asking, and with me learning to understand her moves, reactions and needs better. And it was there that I became firm in my belief that animals are much smarter than us humans give them credit for. She was clearly understanding much of what I said, and I was gaining the knowledge that it is almost always better from a relational perspective to ask rather than demand.
So out to the paddock we began to go for hours on the lunge line. I began to teach her verbal commands. She quickly picked up on what “walk”, “trot”, and “cantor” meant. She knew the commands for stop and go faster. And we practiced them over and over again. All this time, we were growing in our understanding of each other…
Then one day, I placed a saddle on her back and she didn’t flinch. Around and around the arena she went as gentle and accepting of the apparatus as if it bore no weight upon her for her to notice. A few weeks later, I slid onto her back. There was no flinching, no attempting to escape, and no rearing up. Instead, just this peaceful calm. I asked her to walk and she did so without a hesitation. She fully accepted a rider without having to be “broken”. From there our lives involved daily rides, horse shows, and a strong connection that brought great joy to my heart.
It has been many years since Buffy has been a daily part of my life. Long after the many fun years of riding and closeness, I began to grow up. Off to college I went and then onto my new life. Buffy remained at my parents always neighing as I pulled up in the driveway, often standing near the gate hoping I would come to see her. Sometimes I did. Too many times as time passed on, I didn’t.
My sister’s text continued on that she had stopped eating regularly and wasn’t drinking water anymore. I picked up the phone and called the vet. His subsequent visit and news wasn’t a surprise. She was 30 years old; long past the average life span for her breed. “Father time was catching up with her” were his words. He didn’t think she had much time left, and indicated that she would go down hill quickly.
Sometimes I think we often assume that serving God should come with no upsets or obstacles. It should be all glory and joy. So many people focus on the “devil” getting in their way and fail to appreciate that life is going on at the same time. Things happen, both good and bad, happy and sad, and they are a part of what God has planned even when we don’t like them, even when they interrupt. Many times, if not most, He is asking us to handle both sides of the coin with grace, perseverance and acceptance.
The vet gave her a shot of something to help keep her comfortable and assured us that she wasn’t suffering while we got our ducks in a row. Our Friday evening and Saturday were filled with Easter basket assemblies, excited volunteers and testing moments of how far I could push myself in the midst of this grief.
This grief…that I was surprised by. I have always loved her, but she was no longer a part of my daily life and somehow I had fooled myself into believing it wouldn’t hurt as much. Instead, it hurts like the dickens! Memories flashed back of so many moments–one of the biggest of these was what I shared above. I had long known that the experience in teaching her to let me ride her had taught me an invaluable lesson of confidence and willingness to question methods and look for better ones. That lesson taught me perseverance and helped me to believe in who I was and how I had been created. It went with me to college, law school, my marriage, parenthood and the creation of Families Building Faith. It was that realization that has allowed me to question myself and the validity of the methods I am using and whether they are truly the best for the situation.
It was there on Friday with the news that she had little time left that I understood I had been taught an amazing lesson long before I acknowledged Christ for Who He is…that He had been teaching me through her about faith. That faith can never be forced onto someone–that true inspiration often comes from nurturing, loving and meeting someone where they are and not necessarily where you want them to be.
And He is still teaching me through that lesson. As much as my heart hurt and my mind was overwhelmed with all that has been flashing through it, I knew cancelling everything for the weekend would only bring hurt to others in the long run…like kids who desperately need a reminder that someone loves them. The adults who believe that the world has forgotten them…like the little girl who will need that stuffed horse to help her hold on and believe in her dream that someday she may have a chance to have one of her own.
On Sunday, we drove up to my parents a few hours before the vet was to arrive. There she stood waiting. That morning before leaving, I had opened my Bible hoping for some comfort for this dreaded decision and situation. I opened to the introduction of Zechariah in the NIV Life Application Bible, the Bible that I felt specifically nudged to find that morning. Amazingly, there on the page was a picture of a horse’s head. Just the picture alone brought me great comfort. The intro spoke of the King coming, and on a colt. I knew then God was giving me the strength to do the right thing. To walk her home to Him, and to be comforted in the knowledge that He was present and waiting. As much as I knew what I was about to do was going to be terribly painful, I knew she needed me by her side and that I, too, needed to be there.
I spent a couple of hours brushing her, walking her, and telling her how much I loved her and would miss her. The irony wasn’t lost on me that our journey together was coming full circle as I tried to work out the manure that was clinging to her fur from a long, hard winter. As tired as she was, she willingly followed me wherever I went trusting that I knew the way to where she needed to go and I, in turn, listened and stopped as she needed rest, her head often leaning in close to my shoulders and face to hug me.
And so it came, there on the ground both of us, that I lay stroking her head and telling her that it was okay to go…that God, and my dad–her primary caretaker after I had moved on, were waiting. Tears coming out of both of our eyes as her heart beat faded, and then she was gone…my friend of 28 years, a teacher of my youth, who helped me to understand that force isn’t God’s way…that time, effort, patience, perseverance and hard work are what build relationships of trust, love and courage best. Those, my friends, are what represent Him and build real faith in ourselves and in others.
“Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.” John 1:3-5



















