Freedom from the Former
Well, hello again, everyone! For those of you that have read my post A
New Season, you’ll remember that at the end, I mentioned I would be
volunteering in April at an event called McKeever’s First Ride. That very special day was this past Saturday,
and since I know some of you are very curious to know my reflections on the
event again this year, in this post I’m going to share just that. For those of you that are not familiar with
what McKeever’s First Ride is, I welcome you to read my reflections on last
year’s event in my post from April 2012 titled Follow-up to McKeever’s First
Ride.
As many of you probably know by now
after reading my recent posts over the past weeks, I’ve moved on from my riding
lessons now in obedience to God’s lead.
With that said, returning to my “horse world” to volunteer at McKeever’s
was truly a special occasion for me.
Last year, as I watched what a blessing the day was to all of the
amputee participants, I was overwhelmed with the realization of how very much
we take for granted in this life. But
this year, it wasn’t the participants that God used to speak to me through as
much as it was the little details of the day altogether. This year, I saw the event as though I had
stepped back and was simply an onlooker.
Ever since I had ended my riding
lessons, my heart had still been held by everything associated with them. I was still trying to hold onto all that I
had supposedly given up. But Saturday
was my chance to finally lay that season of my life to rest. To close that chapter.
In a way, the day was much of a
summary of those past four and a half years of my teenhood. My mom pulled her minivan up to the covered
arena of the Gwinnett County Fairgrounds, and casting a glance in the backseat
where I sat, commented to my dad sitting beside her, “Our Julie’s back.” There I was again. Soon-to-be muddy blue jeans, a Carharrt work
jacket, dusty cowboy boots, spurs… everything was the same as it had always
been for those four years, except for my diva feather flower in my hair. I was back to the old me.
This year was very different for
me. I wasn’t there to impress anyone; I
wasn’t there for my former riding instructor Elizabeth or for Miss Deenie, Miss
Dixie, Erika, Janet, or even the participants.
I was there to serve God by serving others, and that gave me a very
different viewpoint of the day. I fit
right back into my old surroundings with all the boot-scootin’, spur-clinkin’,
horse-ridin’ cowfolk, but I was walking in the new me and I couldn’t go back to
being that old person again. There was
nothing wrong with the person I was before nor with my former hobbies, interests,
or dress. But God had begun doing a work
in me from the inside out, and it had finally started to shine through to the
outward. The new me willingly offered my
help more than ever wherever it was needed, I spoke boldly and freely of what
God’s doing in my life, I was me unguarded and unafraid of people’s opinions. Even the young cowboys and their non-cowboy
counterparts that all would’ve caught my notice only months ago, no longer drew
even a glance of my attention.
I was blessed to be able to work
with the children again this year and had as my co-volunteers in that area, a
wonderful group of women. Miss Dixie, a
woman I knew from the farm, headed up our group. Miss Dixie was such a blessing to me. She took me under her wing as though I were
her granddaughter and unknowingly made me feel so comforted in the moments when
the new me felt out of place. Having an
opportunity to share what God’s doing in my life with her and Mrs. Dabney (my
riding instructor’s mother) was such a blessing. I so enjoyed getting to know those women a
little more.
One of my little friends from last
year, Lillian, returned this year since her mother was there volunteering
through Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, the McKeever’s First Ride primary
sponsor. The little girl that so loved
the horses last year had begun taking riding lessons with my instructor’s
sister in the past year, and she still loved them as much as ever. It touched my heart to see that she
remembered me and even what horse I had been working with at the last event. But even Lillian was growing up and changing,
I noticed.
As
we were leading the horse around the arena, she asked me once, “So are you
Elizabeth’s best friend?” Her question
surprised me. There’s a four-year
difference between me and my riding instructor, and when I first began my
riding lessons, we were much younger and the age-difference was more noticeable
in a way. But even then, our
relationship had never truly been that entirely of an instructor and a
student. But as the years passed, we
grew closer and both entered young-adulthood, having more in common and even
being able to read each other’s mind sometimes, and… somehow the gap had seemed
to close some. I wasn’t really sure what
our relationship was, to be honest. I
had never really thought about it before.
But I realized in that moment what a true treasure my friendship with
her really was, and it’s one that I’ll always cherish and that I hope to never
allow it to fall to the wayside, despite the discontinuation of my
lessons. “Well, I’m one of her friends,
yes,” I told Lillian. I went on to explain
to her how I first met Elizabeth and began my riding lessons, a story that
perhaps I needed to relive more than Lillian’s curiosity needed to hear
it.
Another character that stood out in
the day for me was actually another volunteer, a girl in her early teenage
years. She wasn’t volunteering with the
horses and in fact, had never really been around horses before, but she
gravitated to Sterling who I stood with, and when I offered to teach her how to
lead him and back him up, she took me up on my offer. China was giddy and giggly, a typical young
teenager, but her youthfulness made me smile.
Her journey was just beginning, and she had so much to learn. I pray though that the Lord will guide her
every step along the way just as He did with me and continues to do so.
When I showed China how to make
Sterling stop when leading him, she squealed.
“OMG! That’s sooo cool!” she
exclaimed with another outburst of giggles.
She was having the time of her life.
She asked me once if I had ever fallen off of a horse before, to which I
told her yes, I had three times. “Like…
what’d you do?” she asked me. What was I
doing when I fell off? The Lord provided
me with an opportunity to relive yet another portion of my riding years.
Many of you will probably remember
the names of three horses which I’ve written about here on Heart-chords:
Aussie, Sterling, and Cheyenne. My three
training horses with whom I spent months working with each. I know their quirks, strengths, and
weaknesses all so well. I know their personalities. I love them tremendously, and they were some
of the hardest horses on the farm to say goodbye to. But I find it no coincidence that the Lord
allowed me to work with the three of them that day… in the very order I had
trained them, in fact. First Aussie,
then Sterling, and lastly, at the end of the day, Cheyenne. I hadn’t expected it to be so difficult
returning for the day to all that I had known.
But as I held Cheyenne’s lead rope, few other people around as all of
the participants were leaving, I felt tears begin to choke at my throat. I buried my face in her warm neck again for
what would be the last time I would in a while, and I willed the tears not to
come. It was finally time to let go in
my heart.
In the course of that day, I saw my
life in a nutshell. Everywhere I had
been and everywhere I was going. In
Lillian, I saw the little girl I had once been and the overly confidence in my
horse knowledge I had once had. In
China, I saw the young girl trying to find herself and find where she belonged
and fit in this world. In Elizabeth, I
saw the young woman I would be someday, happily in love and perhaps soon to
begin a life with the young man she loves.
In Mrs. Dabney and Miss Dixie, I saw the well-established, stable woman
I would emerge from this season of confusion as, happy in the place they found
their dreams had taken them. And
finally, I even saw myself someday in the elderly woman I saw taking slow and
meticulous steps with her walker. I
couldn’t believe how far I had come in my journey, or how far I still had yet
to travel. I had learned so much
already, but my life was just beginning and I had so much still to learn.
At the close of the day, I said my
goodbyes to everyone. It was still
difficult, but I left with a promise to visit the farm again. It was not goodbye forever. But I was finally ready to lay the former to
rest in the past. My heart finally let
go that day. But I realized I wasn’t
just letting go of my riding lessons and my old dreams of becoming a professional
horse trainer someday. I was laying to
rest the former me and all the struggles I had fought and overcome during that
season of my life. So much had changed
in so little time. Sometimes it felt
like an eternity; other times it felt like a mere few weeks. But I wasn’t the same me. I wasn’t the same insecure, timid
fourteen-year-old that had first stepped foot on the farm those years ago. Those years were a launching pad, and now it
was time to launch forth as the new person God had called me to be. After passing out hugs and saying goodbye to
everyone, I turned away with a new peace in my heart and satisfaction with the
day, feeling blessed by the event. My
dusty boots thumped and my spurs clinked as I made my way to where my parents
waited in my mom’s minivan. I opened the
slider door, climbed in, and closed the door on the day. My heart had finally said goodbye and was now
free from the former me to live the life God predestined for me to live. No looking back.
“‘For
I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and
not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Jeremiah 29:11
*For more
information about McKeever’s First Ride, check out the official website at www.mckeeversfirstride.com.
Photo courtesy: www.123rf.com
~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
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