“Letting go of every single dream
I lay each one down at your feet.”
Trust in You, Lauren Daigle
The lyrics by Lauren Daigle took a turn as I drove to the University of Georgia Veterinary clinic last night. The song above, my mantra for so many moments of my post-graduate career, always comes through my radio when I need it most to remind me of a larger picture.
I’m aware that the Lord continues to reveal Himself through my riding career, and it’s like his dangling lure to me. Not in that way that makes promises that if I make a certain mark, he’ll reward me with all the ponies. But that He continually nudges me to continue this dream so that I’m able to see His work and His plan. That’s the larger picture.
I’ve confessed to Mom that I don’t like to share my testimony of how the Lord has allowed for me to continue riding and competing. I don’t want to be too proud or share some dream that if you follow the Lord’s plan He will send you an incredible world-beater and you’ll gallop away with trophies. He could, but it’s not my story to tell today.
What I can share is how through a daily routine of placing my heart and my goals in the Lord’s hands he reveals Himself. So that through this whirl-wind of an equestrian hobby, I surrender to Him what I have which is a goal and my horse. That is where I found myself last night driving to the University of Georgia Veterinary clinic with a borrowed trailer, a borrowed truck, and a prayer my credit-card would allow me to just go a few dollars over its limit so I could have enough gas to get home.
Because in my own plan just a few days before, all of those nuances would be irrelevant. With potential buyers completely vetted out for my great little mare to find her new home, I was dis-heartened to lose my best mate but more encouraged to be able to take that step forward financially. So encouraged about the future, I was rewarding myself with a modern light grey sectional from Crate & Barrel. It was in my checkout cart online, ready to go. This was the result of my hard work that I had put in training this talented mare, my hard work had prepared her to go to her next home, and my hard work had set myself up to completely adjust my financial outlook with only one horse.
But then a vet comes in and points to a fragment on a X-ray the size of a pinky nail floating in an ankle. And in the horse-world this actually happens quite often. Almost every horse will have some asymmetry or little spur that potential buyers may pass or task a risk on. Honestly it happens more often than not. But this was a little more than asymmetry. This required an immediate decision to put my mare under and perform surgery to take it out. (It’s not common in the horse-world to confess your mount’s details from a trip to the clinic, so please forgive me for breaking this code for the sake of the blog.)
You’re just sick, not about the sale or the sectional that was going to remain in my checkout cart, but there is absolutely nothing in the world at that moment that I wanted more than for my little horse to be ok, and better, and healthy, and home so I can bank extra shavings in her stall and wrap her with just one blanket layer too many so she’s warm.
They do too much for us. I picture myself a pretty handy and smart horseman. I find the best care and put their wellness way before my bank account. But this f***ing mare has been galloping over Intermediate spreads with a hunk of bone floating around her leg.
After two days of torture to leave her with a band of vet techs and top equine veterinarians, I was able to drive with the borrowed truck and borrowed trailer and bring her home. And honestly, this surgery is common. My mare has a sixty day rehab plan, and then we can actually proceed as normal and get back to work. It’s a pretty nonchalant procedure that leaves her perfect to continue whatever endeavor she wants to pursue.
But it leads back to my song,
“When you don’t move the mountains, I’m needing you to move.
When you don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through…
I will trust, I will trust in You.”
That wasn’t The Plan. It wasn’t The Plan for Frye to go to her next home, not today, not yet. Today she is extra-warm in her stall with extra shavings banked in her stall. So whether the Lord will have me continue to work up the levels for a kickoff in January or have my girl’s back while she heals before setting off to teach a new generation, I can have hope and a confidence that the Lord’s plan will be good and purposeful. Today, I have my best girl in my stall and got a nuzzle when I left.
“You are my strength and comfort,You are my steady hand
You are my firm foundation, The rock on which I stand.”