I have a friend who breaks horses. He said he is trying to train a young horse to not be afraid of water. He spent an hour this week just trying to get this horse to step into a puddle.
I have a wonderful, safe life. I work hard to keep a consistent job. I brush my teeth and shower. I have just enough social skills to maintain some friends. I do enough to get by, spiritually.
In short, I avoid puddles.
I think of the horses that carried riders into battle or helped pioneers forge onward- splashing through rivers pulling their riders. What great things would not have happened if horses were scared of water?
I can think of a few risky puddles in my pasture that I try to ignore. Could I tell my friends hard truths, at the risk of losing their friendship? Could I talk to my father about my hurts and struggles with manhood? Could I allow myself to feel the twisted sexual impulses that pound on my door long enough to understand their cause, instead of running because I’m afraid they are too strong for me?
I could ignore these for the rest of my life and my life would probably be happier for it. But my faith and my soul would stagnate. What do You have waiting for me on the other side of scary rivers, God? And I suppose I will never cross rivers if I don’t first look up, hold my breath and dive into some puddles.
Raw Spoon
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