Follow-up for McKeever's First Ride
This past Saturday morning at 8:15 found
me at the Gwinnett County Fairgrounds for McKeever’s First Ride. What a tremendous experience! I knew only eight people there, but within
two hours was familiar with so many others.
When people come together for one purpose, it is amazing the unity
between them. All differences fade as
they work together as one. We gathered
there as strangers, but we left as one family.
It was wonderful to see so many people come to willingly volunteer to
make the day possible, and so many participants had come to the event. These people have so much courage to be able
to live life in fulfillment despite the scorn and mocking they must receive in
public. At first I admit, my attention
was drawn to notice their prosthetics, but by the end of the day, I no longer
even recognized who was an amputee and who wasn’t. The following morning I had a stunning
thought; if I couldn’t tell who was
an amputee when their blue jeans concealed their prosthetics, neither could
they tell if I was an amputee. I caught
a glimpse of how God sees us all; to Him there is no segregation of race, sex,
amputees or non-amputees, sighted or blind, hearing or deaf, verbally speaking
or mute.
After
the opening ceremony, Elizabeth Dabney (my riding instructor) and I spent the
rest of the day leading her solid white Paint horse around the event, teaching
the children how to groom and lead a horse.
Seeing their delight at working with the horses was all the reward I
could’ve ever wanted for volunteering.
To see their faces light up with a smile when the horses would nuzzle
them, to see how much enjoyment they found in brushing the horse’s mane and
body. At five thirty in the afternoon
when I returned home, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, my
feet were sore and my skin was covered with a layer of dust, but still I
would’ve served again in a heartbeat the very next day had the event continued
Sunday.
Seeing
those children, many of them without limbs, tore at my heart, and my love
overflowed in abundance on them. How I
would’ve loved to have drawn them all close to me and hug them tightly. Several of them touched my heart
particularly, and the Lord spoke to me through so many of my experiences that
day.
One
of the little girls that came back to work with the horses over and over again
was a five-year-old named Lillian. How
she loved those horses! You can imagine
the warmth I felt at my core as I watched the smile on her face radiate while
she led the Paint and the Thoroughbred around the arena, and that warmth
kindled even further when she unexpectedly hugged me affectionately around my
waist. One boy about ten years old
eagerly showed me the craft he had made- a paper horse with clothespin legs. He proudly named the colors he had used to
decorate the horse, pointing to each, and when I agreed with his statement that
he was going to take good care of his horse, he kissed the paper pony. What other ten-year-old boy do you know that
still has such a tender and compassionate heart?
Being
surrounded by so many amputees, it was easy for me to lose sight of their
handicap, but one boy’s comment painfully reminded me. I was slightly paranoid that one of the children
would get their feet stepped on by the horses’ hooves. As I reminded them one time to watch their
feet, this boy- a double amputee missing both legs- remarked, “Well, it
wouldn’t matter if he stepped on my feet.”
I was stunned at the unexpected reply and couldn’t find words to remark
to his comment. Fortunately the
circumstance didn’t demand a reply on my part.
Two
situations moved me especially. Although
he was fearful of working with the horses, I saw a boy in a wheelchair, an
amputee, with neither arms nor legs.
Elizabeth’s tears came at that moment, although she concealed them from
the boy; mine came the following morning and even now my heart is still breaks
at the remembrance. How much we take for
granted. Perhaps what struck me most
though was that this boy had come to the event and was enjoying himself-
enjoying life. How often we complain
about petty inconveniences. How many
times we exaggerate matters that, when viewed with an honest perspective, are
truly trivial and have no lasting value at all.
Why are we such complainers when we are so incredibly blessed? Why do we fuss about being convenienced and
about things not going our way when a little boy who has no arms and legs can
still smile and find contentment in life, though he knows that his arms and
legs will never grow back? Though he
knows that he will never be accessed to the freedom that other children
enjoy. If we only stopped and took the
time to think, to view our situations through the eyes of eternal value, to see
life with an eternal perspective as God sees our lives… how many times I wonder
that we would give thanks rather than complaints. The next time discontentment overwhelms you,
the next time that you feel like grumbling and griping, look down at your two
hands and just try imagining your life without them. It just might change your opinion of the
situation.
The
other child that touched me deeply was five-year-old Mary who wore a pink
cowgirl hat. Her mother told me that day
was a dream-come-true for her daughter.
Mary had apparently held a fascination with horses for a year already,
and as I walked beside her while she led the horse around, she told me that
when she grows up, she wants to be a cowgirl.
She loved those horses- you could see it in her eyes- and she kept
returning to see them. The Thoroughbred
horse Aussie was in the habit of swishing his tail to swat at the flies landing
on him, and once he accidentally hit Mary in the face with his tail. The force of the motion and the coarseness of
the horsehair brought tears to her eyes, but still she resumed brushing
him. Later in the day she was running
while leading Aussie, the horse trotting along behind her. I noticed the lead rope was dangerously
dragging behind her on the ground as she ran, and I pointed it out to her, but
my warning was too late. Aussie accidentally
stepped on the rope, stopped abruptly and startled back with a snort. As for Mary, she got a face-full of dust, the
dirt in her eyes causing her eyes to water again. And yet still she continued leading him
around the arena again, her smile returning in pleasure. She left as the event was drawing to a close,
then returned a few minutes later to give Aussie one last kiss on his
muzzle. I observed the tears so near to
falling as she hugged his face closely and said goodbye to him. How she had grown attached to that
horse! I was reminded of just how much
Christ loves us and of the same love that He calls us to demonstrate. Children are so forgiving. Is it any wonder that the Lord instructs us
to become like little children again? (Mt. 18:3) So often we slap God in the face with our
words and actions, so often do we scorn Him, abuse Him and misuse Him. And yet just like little Mary, His love is so
great for us and so unconditional that He still cries at the separation from
Him that we create by our sinning. May
God forgive us- may God forgive me
and give me a heart like Mary’s.
It
was an emotional day, but a tremendous learning experience as well and one that
I would not have missed out on. What an inspiring example to live life to the fullest and to embrace your dreams undauntedly. Thank
you for all of your prayers. The day was
just as wonderful and just as fulfilling as I envisioned it would be. Pictures of the event should be posted soon at www.mckeever'sfirstsride.com. How much better it is to serve than to be
served!
“Just
as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life
as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:28
~We’ve all heard of the phrase “pulling
on her/ his heartstrings,” but heart-chords?
I was struggling to decide what to name my blog. I wanted it to be a name that was both creative
and meaningful. As I pondered, my gaze
fell upon my acoustic guitar where it stands in my bedroom, and the Lord
reminded me that our hearts- our lives- are instruments. They are constantly in song, but what melody
our heart plays is each of our own decisions.
They can play a melody for praise or for entertainment. A musician selects his songs according to his
audience. So do we. Whether our audience is the world or the
Lord, our song will be different. This
blog is designed to first, increase my awareness in finding God and His
guidance in my every day and second, to share the music lessons He teaches me
in tuning my heart to learn the chords of praise He longs to play on my
heart-instrument. Music is a powerful
tool. Use it for His glory. “He
put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in
the Lord.” Psalm 40:3
