Back to My First Love
Nevertheless I have
somewhat against thee,
because thou hast left
thy first love.
—Revelation
2:4
My childhood dream used to live behind my house: a great,
big knucklehead in a red fur coat.
Yes, a horse.
Zippa Dee Dude was a sorrel quarter-horse with a white star,
snip and strip on his face, and two white stockings.
He was funny. Once, at a show with his former owners, he
escaped from his stall and trotted around with the reins in his teeth. Another
time, he stuck his head in some people's trailer and used his teeth to pull the
covers off their bed . . . with them still in it.
We bonded. I'd go to hug Zippy, but he'd wedge his head
under my arm so that he could "hug" me first. When he was hungry, he raked his
teeth on the stall bars like a zither. He danced side to side like a little kid
when I'd come with a bucket of grain. He'd whisk my cap off my head with his
teeth and hide it under his head on the fence rail.
We told people we got the horse to teach our kids discipline
and responsibility.
Suuuuuure we did. Everybody knew the truth:
Zippy was for me. Horses were my first love.
I was one of those little girls who read horse books,
doodled horse pictures and if I ever got to pet one, didn't wash my hand for
days; I loved that horse smell.
I suppressed the desire for a horse for many years. When it
came back strong and I met Zippy, I roped my husband into it.
But he had fun, too. I think he fantasized about using whips
and spurs on certain parties at the office.
What really sold him was the sight of Zip running free in
the pasture, joy on four legs, playfully bucking and twisting, head held high,
tail flying proudly like a long, red flag.
Speed, strength and spirit. No wonder we fell head over
hooves in love.
Oh, it was humbling. My "city fingers" that type
fast clunked like concrete when I tried to bridle him.
At first, I rode like a kid behind the wheel of a car for
the first time. Whoaaaaa! Look out! Where're the brakes? Awk! Watch out for
that fencepost! Flying lead change? What's a lead change? Heck: what's a lead?
Gradually, I cowgirled up.
I shaved his muzzle with an electric razor. I picked out the
dirt from the "V" on the bottom of each hoof. I shampooed his tail
and braided his mane. I cleaned tack. I loped without my teeth rattling. I tied
knots. I trail-rode with other women who made time for fun: the "Hags on Nags."
Horseplay was back in my life. Soon, we got Zippy a brother
to play with: Royal Billy Star, a tall, dark and handsome bay. Billy was a
barrel racer: an athlete! We loved sitting on the back patio, watching them
graze.
Why'd we get into horses? I was bored. I was flat. I needed
something, but I wasn't sure what. The big Trail Boss in the sky knew, though.
He made this happen. Why? He wants His herd to be blessed . . . running free,
heads held high, full of joy.
Well, things changed. We had another baby, so we sold both
horses. It's OK. They're both in good homes, being ridden a lot, happy and
healthy. My recreational itch was scratched.
And we modeled for our kids how important having fun is. In
Scripture, "first love" refers to Jesus Christ. The passage about
leaving your first love is a rebuke to those who have turned their backs on
Jesus after once knowing Him.
But people who are "too busy" to have fun do the
same thing. We're supposed to enjoy life. Love it! We're not supposed to hold
our horses when it comes to fun.
So what was YOUR first love? A hobby? A place? A person? A
musical instrument? A sport? A dream?
Whatever it was, Pardner, gallop back to it, pronto.
When you let God hold the reins, life's a horse of a
different color. Yee haw! †
