I had just got done riding for the day, and, despite all my efforts over the last couple months, the horse I was training was still off. We’d been to the vet multiple times, the chiropractor, done stretches, massage, PEMF, special exercises, etc. As I got in the shower that morning, I was overwhelmed and having a pretty good breakdown thinking about the phone call I knew I was about to have to make. I was praying and asking God to help me know what to do. I felt like I was drowning in all my anger, fear, and disappointment about this situation. It is really hard to call owners and tell them something is wrong with their horse, especially when you know you’ve hit the end of what someone is willing to put into them time-wise and financially. When I stepped out of the shower I had a message from them. They were going to bring her home and use her for day work.
I remember the most hopeless and angry feeling coming over me. I was going to have to tell them she wasn’t even sound enough for day work, and I had a feeling they’d be ready to cut their losses. What were the odds that I was just in the shower pleading with God about this horse and I got this text?! I had fallen in love with this mare over the last two years. She was part of the family. I knew she’d eventually be for sale. I knew the plans, but the plans were on my terms, to the right person, when she was ready. Or at least that is what I thought.
We called her owners to talk through options, and ultimately decided we would buy her from them - which as a horse trainer was not the best business model, but is what we felt was best for us and this horse, however impractical it was. I remember waiting on the details to be sorted out and angrily telling God this isn’t what I was asking for. I couldn’t understand why I was in this situation… I was frustrated and feeling helpless.
That night we went to dinner with family, and my mom started telling me that a friend had called her to tell her about what they went over in bible study that week. It was a message on keeping your eyes up. This friend told my mom she instantly thought of me running barrels. She said in all of Macie’s pictures she is turning and looking at the next barrel. When mom told me this, I was flattered. What a cool compliment. It wasn’t until later that night that I realized God was telling me to Turn and Look.
If you are ever in the stands at a barrel race you will more than likely hear someone yell “look up” or “turn and look”. The idea is, if you’re staring at the barrel during your turn, more often than not you are going to hit it. The most common thing to do is to look where you are headed. Some look at the next barrel, others a point in the dirt or between their horses ears, but never down at the barrel. Most days I feel like I am running head first into one problem after another. I realized at that moment I was in fact running head first into my problems, staring right at them. The problem was all I could see. When in reality, I should have my eyes up, focused on Jesus and looking toward where I wanted to be going.
It made me think of Peter walking on water. Matthew 14: 29-31 29 “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
I used to read this passage and hear Jesus rebuke him for his “little faith” and think, “Dang that is kind of harsh”. Now I read it and I see it differently. I don’t hear a harsh rebuke. I hear a loving Father wanting to know why I took my eyes off him to stare at my problems. The thing is, Peter was the only disciple even getting out of the boat. That first step must have taken so much faith, but also so little at the same time. When our eyes are fixed on Jesus it is easy to step out of the boat, easy to turn and look where we are headed and not at our problems. It is when our problems steal our peace and fear creeps in that it makes that faith short lived.
I heard a preacher talk about how Jesus wasn’t telling Peter his faith was small, but that it was short. Peter had the faith to step out of the boat, but his faith only lasted as long as his focus. I was trusting that Jesus was going to take care of my situation, but as my problems threatened to take me under, that faith was short lived just like Peter’s. I took my eyes off of Jesus and the things I knew He’d promised me. It started to feel like I might drown in my problems. Yet, instead of meeting me with anger, God met me with grace. He didn’t fix my problems right then and there, but He told me to keep my eyes on him. The cool thing is, He did it in a way that would make sense to me. He wasn’t asking me for much - all He needed me to do in that moment was to turn and look.