Picture of Hi I'm Heather
Hi I'm Heather

Come stroll the trails with me on our 44 acre Midwest horse farm where I seek God in the ordinary and always find Him--the Extraordinary--wooing, teaching, wowing me with Himself. Thanks for visiting. I hope you will be blessed!

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Open and Close

Some of us had a heel-kicking good time yesterday.  And some of us didn’t.

Spring grasses have greened and some creatures can’t wait to munch. But spring grasses are rich—too rich in sugar—to allow unlimited exposure.  If you have horses, you have to take time to introduce spring pasture slowly.  Too much rich grass can kill a horse with colic.

 
We’re at the half-hour mark, here on the farm.  Each day, all horses are haltered and hand-led into pasture where they can dine at will for thirty minutes.  Every few days, we will double their pasture time until they are out all day, free to roam and eat within their fenced limits.

Yesterday, as we led horses out of the barn, someone (I’m not saying who!) accidentally left a stall door open.  Out two ran, into the yard!  Horsey heaven had arrived!  Nick’s friend was scared stiff and ran for cover.  The rest of us grabbed whips and went to work trying to round up beasts that were not going to be caught and haltered.

 
Through the front yard, around to the back yard, and over the deck they cantered, leaving hoof prints everywhere, making our lawn look like it had been used by the worse golf hackers in the world.

This is what you get when you leave things open that should have been closed, I thought.

Truth.  When we open heart and soul doors that should wisely stay shut, we open ourselves to damage.  I unwisely did so that same day.  I revealed some exciting news to a few people I should have known would respond as they did.  Although I know God is leading with this news, I opened the door to my heart and soul.  And in ran doubt.  When so many others have shared my joy in the past few days, just two comments threatened to pinprick my balloon of delight and send it flying willy-nilly through space. 

 
I felt it.  I felt the prick—the heart stab.  And long ago it would have sent me spiraling down.  Not now.  God has tuned my ears to His voice so that even when I’m blind and can’t see my next step—even when I can’t see Him—I can hear Him and I can follow by faith the voice I know. 

So many voices try to lead and yank and twist and turn.  How do we know and listen and follow the TRUE voice, the RIGHT way?

When we spend enough time listening to a tune, we come to know it well.  We become accustomed to the song and we come to know the singer.  God’s voice is found in His word.  The more we steep ourselves in the Bible, the more we come to know God’s voice.  The more we come to know God’s voice, the straighter and steadier our paths become.  When we don’t know which way to go, we wait.  God always leads and He wants us to hear and follow.  We can trust Him to lead us—in His way—in His time.  And He NEVER leads in ways that contradict His word.  EVER.  It is His will to lead us into safe pasture.  Sometimes we must go through rough and rocky terrain first, but God’s safe and fulfilling pasture is waiting just a bit beyond.  He promises.  And God never breaks a promise.  EVER.

So, working together with one goal in mind, we finally got the horses rounded up and took them back out, once haltered for their own safety, to enjoy rich grasses.  And I rounded up the doubting, pin-pricking words running through my mind and took each one of them captive for Christ. 
 
God leads me now—not others.  God’s word is the voice I want to listen to—to stay tuned to—not others’.  For God knows my heart.  My desire is to follow Him wherever and however He leads.  I will go.  No matter who doubts—no matter who dissuades—no matter who tries to pull me off the path He has chosen for me.

  
A few days ago, I wrote that I had heard one of my favorite birds—and then I saw him—the first Rose-breasted Grosbeak of spring.  And I said my other favorite bird would arrive soon.  Guess what I HEARD when I came into the family room first thing this morning.  That’s right!  The Baltimore Oriole!  I know his voice—no doubt.  I’ve trained my ears to hear because I can’t WAIT for my first sighting every spring.  I ran to the window . . .

And there he sat, bright orange and black plumage, perched in the lilac bush!

 
Could we get so accustomed to our Lord’s voice that we don’t need sight to know He’s there—to know He’s singing to us? 

Yes.  We can.  And one day, we WILL see. 

And no one, no thing, need steal our joy.

Walk with me on this faith path?  Open to His voice and close to other voices when needed, letting no one and no thing steal our joy!