I began once again to dream about the future at 10:02 pm on a Friday night eleven months and 26 days after Steve died. I only know this because at the exact moment I entered the dark barn on our North Carolina farm that evening, a full moon reached in and illuminated only the hands on an old kitchen clock and the rusty nail it hung on.
Restless and angry at God, my intention was to pack boxes in the loft and organize every square inch of life for my children because I was not willing to live through another night. I no longer had time for time, but I did have whiskey, sleeping pills and a spotless house. Our kids were grown, strong and smart. Our dogs and horses and barn cats would love them through this. My papers were in order, our bills were paid off, Steve’s life insurance was in the bank and the only way I was going to see Steve again was to find him where he was. I’d work out the whole mortal sin thing with God once we were face to face and I’d had my say.
There are no words large enough to describe the arrogance and insanity of a grieving heart.
But that damn clock. The precise time hovered over me like a necessary memory I could not quite reach. The woman once known as Lynn would have paused, noticed, waited patiently for the message, or the memory. But I could not find that woman. Frustrated and empty, I stood on the dirt floor of a dark barn until Pretty Girl, our paint mare, sauntered up behind me and rested her big head on my shoulder. I nudged her away. She nickered, nosed her halter off its hook, dropped it on the ground at my feet and stared at me with big eyes.
Two years earlier I was bucked off a Palomino and broke four ribs. In half. I had not climbed onto a horse’s back since. She knew and I knew it, but her energy both softened and emboldened me. I slipped on her halter, made a loose rein from the lead rope and used the barn wall to climb up onto her bare back and fold myself around her.
We walked all seventeen acres of the farm that night, around the ponds, through the trees, past the solid fencing I helped Steve build. I don’t know the exact time I let go of the rains, but it was then that my heart beat wildly with memories, my hands rested on my thighs, my body gave in to the movement and all the feelings and dreams of the woman known as Lynn returned to my mind and my soul.
I still do not know why God waits until we’re on the edge. I do know his timing is impeccable and it is not my imagination that this beautiful horse, who came to us the year before with the name of “Teacher”, would pause at precise moments, stand perfectly still to let me cry, catch my breath and begin again to dream.
I just had to let go of the reins.
Lynnette Bukowski ©2016 – All Rights Reserved
When my mother was a child she used to escape to her “rock in the sky” and dream. Usually about words. And if you’ve ever read her writing (www.gracebeyondgrace.com) you would understand how God poured His giant Yes all over that dream.
Fast forward a few decades and God is still pouring out His YES all over her dreams. These pics are part of her “Dream Board” she did maybe 3 or 4 years ago. Before we found this farm. Before we knew how things would go.
Almost every picture on this has come true. We pulled out this dream board and realized how precise some of the photos were – from statues serving as “signs” to the pool surrounded by trees. We knew horses would be involved but certainly didn’t know we’d have a horse farm. Even the veg garden looks like this – wild and full. Most incredibly, there’s a photo (not shown) of some interior guest rooms that weren’t designed by us but incidentally ended up looking EXACTLY like the magazine cut out.
All this to say. DREAM. Dream with God. Make it plain on tablets. Poster boards will do. 🙂
And one more thing, guys, there’s a picture of zebras on this poster. Don’t ask why but the way things are going I’m pretty sure there’s a Zebra in our future. Just sayin’. ~Sheri Bukowski
4 thoughts on “Let Go of the Reins”
For me, God waits until the last moment because that’s when I finally let go and say, “I can’t do this. Help me,” and accept whatever He sends. Often what He sends I wouldn’t have appreciated if He’d sent it sooner. How do I know? It’s happened. I’ve recognized God’s gentle support and brushed over it because I was too busy, too stressed, too caught up in making it through. In those “I can’t take another step” moments, I finally stop and give Him my full attention. I wish it didn’t take me so long, but I’m human. I want to stand strong, and I forget I don’t have to stand strong alone. So glad Pretty Girl was there for God to use.
I think God waits until we ask. Until we have given up – the anger, stubbornness, fight, control, even the pain. Until we’re empty and ready to receive . . . something; something we weren’t able to give ourselves: grief rather than pain, stillness rather than despair, a glimmer of light. From that place we can choose to live.
I have lived a life of pain for years some induced by the job mis induced by my pig headed refusal to give into some thing that I know in my mind is so wrong for me and my heart says differently.There are certain people on this earth that can take total control of your mind and being to the point yout believe it is actually your fault.When you are a giver and a physchotic gets their mind into youra you will never be the same person again as along as you walk this planet.As usual this lady I know named Lynn always and.I mean always write a or post something to snap me.back to reality and refocus and drop the reins and just cry and give in to what will be .my plan is not the way and if you want life long pain and confusion just keep doing what we do.Drop them run crawl do what ever you have to get it straight. But Give Him The REINS and enjoy the ride.
We are not.meant to live unhappy sad depressed. Take a look down that drive way and tell me it doesn’t talk to you. I DIDN’T THINK SO ENJOY YOUR RIDE
Like you, I’ve learned so much, and seen the results, of “letting go of the reins.” Dream boards work. We only have to continue to put one foot in front of the other (or let your horse show you how) Your words are so important and anticipated. Love you. Keep on, keeping on.