I have long thought that one of the reasons a horse can be so therapeutic to be around is because they only live in the present. They force us to focus on being right here, right now. If we don’t, we will likely miss something they do or are trying to convey to us. Because of this, they are an amazing example of faith in action. Have you ever considered that horses have no way of knowing where we are going to take them? Especially when we load them in a trailer. We may speak to them in our crazy human gibberish, but they have no idea where the rattling metal box will take them. Yet, many horses climb right in. That is how I want to behave as a follower of God. I want to be the horse that God doesn’t worry about loading because He knows I am going to walk right in, fully believing that He would never take me somewhere dangerous, and He is going to be right there for me when we get there.
Where Are You Leading Me?
When I prayed asking God what His plan was for me, His reply was, “This.” I could just picture Him spreading out His arms and doing a little half-spin with a mildly confused look on His face. Isn’t it crazy how one word can mean so much when spoken by the Lord? Let me explain. I was asking Him where I was going, what my purpose in life would be when I got there. Notice that the question assumes that I need to be somewhere other than here. His one-word answer stopped that thought in it’s tracks and brought up a counter question. What if where I am right now is where He has been leading me? What if not a single moment is ever wasted with the time it takes getting from A to B?
Have you ever handled a horse who can’t seem to keep their feet still? You and your friend (who probably happens to own an old quarter horse gelding named Freddy) are leading your horses and you stop to chat. Susan and good ol’ Freddy are standing there quietly while you and your Mexican jumping bean that you call a thoroughbred are trying to act casual while moving in jittery circles around them. That is exactly how I tend to move through life. I am a thoroughbred just off the race-track called American productivity who is trying desperately to act normal. That question that I prayed was the human equivalent of jumping around on the end of a lead-rope wondering “Where are we going to run to next? Surely, you’re going to ask more of me than this!” What I tend not to understand, but that good ol’ Freddy seems to grasp quite well, is that there is no point in getting myself worked up when the one leading me is content with being right here.
As we lead our horses, we want them to assume that if we stop somewhere, it is for a purpose. They have no need to think they should be anywhere else. We know that we will eventually keep walking. We know the final destination. Their job is to follow and trust that we know exactly what we are doing. Of course, we know that we have a plan and there is a destination. Furthermore, we know that this pause to talk to Susan is not going to de-rail that plan. Then, when our horse loses his mind, we get frustrated and expect him to somehow know that everything is ok. Imagine, then, how God feels when we behave the same way? I know that I have often led a horse without a plan. I have misled a horse, and things did not turn out ok. I am imperfect, and it is perfectly reasonable for my horse to distrust me sometimes. But God is perfect. He has never misled; He has always had a plan. Yet, we dance around, anxious and attentive to everything except Him.
In Matthew 28:16-20 Jesus gives His disciples the last command before He leaves them in bodily form; widely known as The Great Commission. His last command to them was to “…go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Nothing He said required them to be anywhere specific. In fact, He specifically said to go to “all nations”. That is specifically nowhere specific. If that is God’s one wish of His followers, why do we long to be anywhere but wherever we seem to find ourselves? Why do we assume that suddenly God’s plan isn’t good, or worse, that He has no plan? I think there are several reasons for that, but the one that has been made clear to me lately was best explained by C.S. Lewis when he said, “I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for a different world.” That world, of course, is the Heavenly glory we are promised in 1 Corinthians 5. Paul joins in our lament (or rather we join in his I suppose) saying, “For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling.”
This Earthly Tent
Man has been blessed with foresight. It is not a curse that we must overcome. God made us different from animals, and that is a good thing. We can be the ones to make plans and be the leader for our animals. We can look ahead to things. That means that we can look ahead to the Kingdom of God. However, it also means that we can look past the present moment and on to something “better”. That something better could be the Kingdom of God, but let’s be honest, it rarely is. In 2 Corinthians 5, Paul beautifully explains the longing many of us experience for another world (see aforementioned brilliant C.S. Lewis quote). He writes about the impermanence of the world using the analogy of a tent vs. home saying, “For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” There is this delicate balance between longing for our heavenly home, made for us by God, and not looking past where we are.
Consider the analogy of a tent. When Paul was writing this, and he referred to a tent he wasn’t talking about a fun family camping trip. He was talking about a long journey on which ones only dwelling was a tent. The individual on such a journey would inherently know that it was a temporary dwelling, but to survive he would have to be painstakingly aware of where he was and what was happening in every moment. This is how we are to live now; knowing that everything is temporary, and yet aware so that we don’t lose the path. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8, NIV). The fun thing about this journey is that we aren’t the ones leading the way. We are more like the 10-year-old child of the one leading the way. We frequently have opinions about which direction we should go, how often we should stop to eat, and how uncomfortable our cot is. Our Father keeps reminding us that He knows the way, He will provide, and not to worry this is only temporary.
Though we may not know how we are going to get there, we do know our destination. Paul writes, “Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose (our heavenly dwelling) is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.” He says we can live in “good courage” because we know that God has prepared a place for us that is better than this. So, can we all agree to load up quietly and confidently into the trailer and see where He takes us? Or stand quietly by His side, knowing that His plan is bigger than we can understand.
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