Last month, I introduced my soon to be released book, All Things Possible. The book tells the story of a small-town gossip, Maggie Stone, and her first love, Wade Ruby, a rancher who moves back to town after twenty years. Although the story is fictional, the book includes two actual events from my life. Today, I’ll share one of the two.
In the early years of our marriage, my husband’s parents bought a farm in East Tennessee. A few years later, we left our home in Ohio and joined them on their cattle farm. This city girl grew to love the farm, especially the cows. We named many and interacted with them often.
Kenn’s parents also owned two horses for a short time. Their names—Copper and Champ—the same names I use in my book. And like in Maggie’s story, Copper was the calmer of the two. Champ was more spirited—unpredictable. Here’s where the two stories differ. Maggie only rides Copper.
Prior to the farm, I had only ridden one horse. When I was twelve, I rode Blondie—the oldest and calmest horse at a nearby riding stable. Blondie decided she didn’t want to walk a trail that day and laid down on the ground with me on her back. Not a great memory.
But one day on the farm, after riding Copper several times, I opted to ride a horse to the mailbox instead of walking the quarter-mile, winding driveway. But Copper wasn’t saddled. Champ was. My confidence had grown (or perhaps my pride), and my interactions on land with Champ had gone well. He seemed to like me, so why not? I climbed up, and we took a leisurely walk to the mailbox.
After I climbed down and smiled at my accomplishment, I gathered the mail from the box and stared at it. How could I hold on to the mail and Champ’s reins? I wasn’t confident enough to try that. So, I stuck the several pieces of mail just inside of my jeans at my waist. But the mail shifted when I mounted the horse. While I tried to straighten the envelopes so they wouldn’t fall to the ground, Champ decided he needed some cardio. With a firm grasp on his reins, I tried with my limited knowledge to slow him down, but his sheer determination propelled him toward the house.
Not only that, but little by little, his saddle twisted to the left. I had a decision to make. Slide off the saddle and fall to the ground or let Champ drag me back to the house. Not interested in becoming a trick rider, I let go. When I tumbled to the ground, the impact not only broke my fall but also shattered my pride. I stood, brushed myself off, and wobbled down the driveway, where Kenn and his dad hurried toward me to help me back to the house.
This may be the perfect verse for my situation, and The Message says it so well.
First pride, then the crash—the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.
Proverbs 16:18
I would have made it all the way back home on Champ, even at his flying rate of speed, had his saddle been firmly secured. Anyway, that’s what my pride convinced me to believe. But with my pride shattered, I never attempted another ride on him. After that experience, I didn’t ride another horse for several years and perhaps only once. They’re beautiful animals, but this ole gal doubts she could stand, brush herself off, and wobble back home again on her own.
Have you had a similar experience with a horse or another unpredictable animal?
Please join me next month when I’ll share a more important event in my life that was similar to Maggie’s!
Banner Photo by Philippe Oursel on Unsplash