Horse Therapy

I have always loved horses.  My aunt Megan inspired my love of this beautiful creature with her collection of miniature horses that she kept in a glass display case that hung on her wall.  There were horses carved out of wood and painted with bright colors, porcelain, metal, and blown glass horses.  They all stood with regal posture in the special display case and carried the same intrigue and awe that I feel for this animal today.  I have not had many opportunities to be around horses until recently.  I read a book by Jaycee Dugard, a kidnap victim who has overcome incredible odds, who writes about her recovery process that involved horses.  This put my intrigue over the edge since she describes how powerful and meaningful the experience was for her.

TC and V

This Saturday I woke up at 11:30am after a late night worship set in Pasadena.  I had laundry to do, and dust bunnies to sweep up, but I put on some boots and headed to a nearby stable instead.  A blonde woman in jeans in her forties greeted me at the entrance.  She had a calm demeanor and light in her eyes that struck me to the core.  She made me want to quit my job and work on a ranch so I too could find the peace and fulfillment that emanated from her.  I signed the paperwork and rented a horse named TC.  I asked for a two hour ride and fed the other horses in the stable carrots while my guide saddled my horse.  The first horse I fed was a white female who was very gentle.  She gently took the carrots from my hand and waited patiently until I offered her another one.  She did not mind me stroking her neck as she chewed on the sweet carrots happily.  The next horse I fed was a brown male horse who was huge.  He took the carrots greedily and nipped my fingers in the process.  He would not let me pet him at all and would only come near me to grab the carrots.  Another horse from the neighboring stall peeked his head over to get a carrot and the male horse nipped at him, not wanting to share.   As I looked around at all of the different horses, I noticed that they all had a scoop in their back where the saddle goes.  God must have designed horses for riding.  I fed about 15 carrots to 12 different horses and had a third of the bucket left.  It made me wonder how much food a horse eats per day since they weigh from 800-1500 pounds.

When TC was ready, my guide helped me mount the horse from a wooden platform that was 4 feet high.  He gave me basic instructions on how to direct the horse.  Pull right to go right, pull left to go left, pull back to stop.  He also told me to put my heels up in the stirrups and grip the horse with my legs to stay on the horse.  It had rained the night before so the trail was a bit muddy and there were a few puddles.  TC tried to avoid puddles, and when one unavoidably crossed his path, he was apprehensive with his first step to gauge the depth.  The trail started around the base of Griffith Park and then went up into the majestic hills that were lush and green from the winter rains.  We had to cross a bridge that went over the Los Angeles River that was 50 feet long and 100 feet tall.  It defied all human instincts to cross this bridge with two 900 pound horses at such an elevation.  I kept wanting to see the blue prints the bridge was made from and ask the engineer how sound his design was.  The bridge creeked as the horses walked over it and the wires above shook a little.

TC had not been out yet that day so he was anxious to exercise.  He trotted a lot more than I was ready for in the beginning of the ride when we would get to a straight part of the trail.   I would pull back on the reigns gently and say, "Whoa TC" in a calm voice and after a few strides he would finally walk again.  Though I restrained him, he was bursting with energy and was ready to charge ahead at any moment if I were to give the command.  A spiritual mentor once told me that she thought I was like a horse at the gate, waiting to charge.  She meant it as means for correction, but I always felt good about her analogy for some reason.

The ride was beautifully scenic and peaceful, except for the unwelcomed conversation from my guide who asked me the same 20 questions you would ask a girl on a first date.  I tried to answer politely since he was a decent fellow, but his conversation mysteriously dwindled when he asked me if I had a boyfriend and I answered yes.   Of course it was a lie, but I felt confident the Lord would cover me considering the circumstances.  With the guide off my back, I was free to hum and meditate on the simple goodness of God and his creation.  Once we got up into the hills, the view was incredible.  I was still a bit nervous on my horse (no thanks to the 4 page death/serious injury waiver I signed) so I was not as free to look around me and take in all of the splendor of the view.  I was busy directing my horse to walk closer to the center of the trail since it scared me to walk along the edge of the trail that often had a huge drop off into the hills.  It didn't help me out any to think about the wet ground that can often be loose and crumble under the feet of a 900 pound animal.  I also kept adjusting my stirrups and my  posture to make sure I was centered on my horse and that I was holding the reigns at the right place.

After the first hour, I warmed up the the ride a lot more.  I actually looked forward to the straight parts of the trail where TC would surely gallop.  I let go of my tense posture and tried to flow more with TC's gate.  At first, I was a 120 pound bag of potatoes on TC's back, heavy and lifeless.  But as I loosened up and flowed with his steps, my weight seemed to distribute more evenly and I was more like carrying a child that cleaves to you and is easier to handle then dead weight.  I also began to trust TC's steps more and not worry if he slipped a little on a muddy hill since he seemed to know how to handle it.  The relationship between horse and rider reminded me so much of the relationship between me and God.  Both need trust, submission, correction, and faith.  As I rode through the quiet and tranquil hills, there was a stillness that swept over me.  I felt the still, small voice of God ministering to my soul things that would take months, even years to translate.  Normally that kind of delay would frustrate my anxious personality beyond measure.  However, in this case, somehow an unexplainable peace came over me and I was able to appreciate the lack of instant gratification.

I am looking forward to savoring the fine wine that patience is producing in me in these encounters with the Lord.  I cannot wait to get up on the mountain again and see what else He will speak to me.