That Same God....

A couple days ago I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep just randomly thinking of random things. And for some reason, the thought of Jesus dying on the cross came into my mind. But instead of saying, "Yes, God is good...praise the Lord" and moving on to another thought, I honestly thought about it until I fell asleep. And this is what came to mind...

Too many times I think we go to church, listen to the sermon, ponder on how good God is, thank Him for dying on the cross, and go home. I don't know if you do that, but I'll sorrowfully admit that I do at times, too many times. It's sad but I really do think it becomes a routine, a mere habit, that we'll go to church and just full fill our weekly duties at church, and just, go home. But you know, maybe we need to slow down, take ourselves out of the routine, and think about TRULY how great God is.

That same God....who gave the wolf its glorious dignity and its glassy eyes that seem to stare straight through you....made YOU...

That same God...who made the eagle to sore above the clouds....that gave it the air that floats beneath it's wings....made YOU...

That same God....who made the cheetah to run at speeds still unfathomable to man....made YOU...

He thought of you...above ALL else....above Himself....He thought of you....and He didn't just merely think of you....He came down to this earth to save you....because He LOVED you...He loves you...so much....so much that He died for you so that you might be with Him FOREVER in eternity...He DIED for you....HE DIED....to me that is just....so....impossible to picture...that someone would die..on a cross!..for me? But yes....He did...He felt so much pain...for ME....He thinks of us every minute...every second....praying that we will accept Him into our lives so that we can go and live with Him....because He also loved us so much that He gave us the CHOICE to choose if we would be with Him....He won't force us....He plees....but He never forces....there could never be a greater love...ever....

I can tell you right now...I'm not going to ever just go to church again and allow it to be a habit...We have a God that has done the un imaginable for us....and He deserves our all....He deserves our lives....our love....EVERYTHING we have....I pray that we will all never let our lives with God just be a habit or routine.....because that same God who made the sparrow...and sees each one that falls....cares for you more than anything....in the universe........

Happy Sabbath everyone....blessings to all....may you all seek and grow closer to Him each day....and I hope we can all meet at our New Home together...someday very soon....just around the corner :)

God's Simple Pleasures

First, I want to start by apologizing for not posting something in...yeah a long time. But life has been just a little hectic since school started. My Junior year is proving to be the hardest so far and I suppose I should have expected that, being told by friends that it was. Those of you who aren't taking Chemistry yet I just want to warn you to prepare for the hardest work you will ever know....until college. Yeah ok maybe I'm over reacting a little bit but really, it's hard! Ok I'll stop, this is not what I wanted to ramble on about in this post.

So I said my life has been hectic right? Ya it has...

Since I posted last I've started school (which is probably the main reason my life is busy at the moment.) but also my great grandma past away almost a month ago. And it hit us all as a shock, so...that's taken some getting used to. Also, living in my grandparents house while we've been looking for our own house, has been a challenge for me. Not that I don't love my grandparents, I do tremendously, but sleeping on the floor in my grandmas office for three months has been different. But, considering that I am planning to live in the mission field after college the rest of my life, I guess I should get used to sleeping on the floor and close quarters. 

And then something happened about three months ago after moving into my grandparents house. Up the street and across another street there is a farm. Yes, a farm in the city. The high school near us uses the farm as a agriculture learning center so it's almost always filled with animals and in the early morning you can hear the cows yodeling away as the sun peaks over the mountain. In the spring they buy kids, not the kind you are thinking of, I'm talking goat kids. And they use these kids as learning experiences for the students to take to fairs and then eventually they sell them for market. Which is totally wrong, but that's a whole other essay.

One day me and my family were going on a walk and decided to stop at the farm to see the animals. We walked to a pen in the back of the farm and there were a cute little herd of wobbly legged kids. They were amazingly friendly and from that day on we stopped by to feed them grass and leaves and things just to see their wobbly little ears flap and enjoy their humorous personalities. From the start, there was always one particular goat that out shone the others. He just had the type of personality that was almost human.You could almost tell what was going on in his brain when you looked in his cat like eyes.


After a while me and my brother named a few of the ones that had the funniest personalities: Freckles had chestnut freckles on his white ears, Prince just had a dark brown noble looking face, and well Nibbles, just nibbled on everything. Nibbles was the one that had, I guess you could say, captured my heart. He was the one with the human personality, and me and him just had a connection. You are probably thinking I'm insane now....a connection with a goat....ya ok so maybe I am. I'm serious though! Over time me and my brother started calling him our goat. That probably wasn't the smartest idea, but we couldn't help it.


Fair time came around and we didn't really know if we wanted to go see him there since after fair they would all be going to the slaughterhouse. But since he had brought so much joy into our lives we decided seeing him one last time would be worth it. At the fair we found him, he was laying in his pen on the floor and was too tired to walk over and see us. And then, somehow, I don't remember exactly how, but we found out that all of the goats had made the right weight for market except Nibbles. We were so excited to know that he wasn't going to market! My mom asked the girl that had been taking care of him what she planned to do with him. She said that she was going to try and find a home for him and that she might already have a place. My mom told her we might be interested and decided to give her our phone number just in case she found out that place wouldn't work out. We didn't hear anything for a while and I just assumed that they had found a place for him and he'd be leaving the farm soon.

Until one day when my mom pulled me into their room and asked what I'd think if we bought Nibbles.  It turns out that there wasn't another place for him to go and they needed to find a place quickly. I didn't know what to think! Here were my parents considering buying a goat when we had nowhere to put it because we didn't even have our own house yet! I was in shock and of course my answer would be yes but I figured I should pray and think about it before I gave a definite answer as to what I thought. Eventually I believed God was saying that we should buy him, everything just seemed to be falling into place and there wasn't anyone else who wanted him.

So after many days of trying to work things out between the farm and the girl that "owned" him (basically the hand didn't know what the foot was doing, ya it was just really complicated.) we went down to the farm and payed the lady the check for my goat. Now the trick was to figure out where to put him. But God provided that just in time, in the two weeks before we were supposed to get him off the farm we remembered a boy we had met at the fair with his goats. They breed this specific breed (Boer goats) and have a farm not far from here, about 15 minutes. It has all worked out beautifully, the added blessing is that when we go out to visit we are bombarded by about forty other goats all eager to greet you the second you enter the barn. And the people that live there are some of the nicest I've ever met! I pray that we can be a witness to them.

Although it seems odd and maybe a little crazy that we've bought a goat before a house I truly believe God sent this little hoofed angel to us. He has brought me some of the best moments that I've had in my life. God knew just what we needed. He brought me the simple pleasures of a furry, frisky, blocky legged goat just at the time I needed most. When I was starting to lose hope again of ever finding our country home. I can tell you right now there is nothing better than sticking your nose deep into a goats hide and sniffing.  Ya I'm serious, on a rainy day when you might be feeling a bit down, come over and sniff my goat. I promise you it will make you feel 100% better! No kidding! He's my miracle goat.

I guess what I'm trying to say is. Don't give up on God. Things might be tough right now. But there always has to be a valley before a mountain. And in the valleys the most beautiful flowers grow along the way. God has a plan. And he'll get you through. That's what this goat has shown me. He's almost like a rainbow, a promise that something better is around the corner and you're ALMOST THERE. He's saying, "Just hold on a little longer my child. Trust me."

"For I know the thoughts I have toward you saith the Lord. Thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:11-13

Hidden Summer Blessings

I was dazed. I had just gotten off the phone with YD and told me I was accepted as a counselor. I went over the call twice in my head to make sure it had actually happened, I laughed. For some reason I couldn't believe that I, Megan, being the crazy sixteen year old that I am, would ever be able to be a counselor. My mom had said pray about it so I did. I felt like God was telling me to turn in the application. I didn't know why, but I turned it in anyways. Not that I didn't want to be a counselor, I wanted to, but I suppose I was just unsure of myself. Maybe I wasn't mature enough to do this. Through lots of prayer I managed to leave it in God's hands as to what my summer would hold. And now I knew.

The last few months before camp passed quickly until three weeks before the pre-camp-excitement started to hit. Yeah I was excited, overly excited, and tremendously nervous. I started thinking about who my co-counselors would be and if I would work well with them. Who would my campers be and would I be able to be a good influence. Yeah I know worrying doesn't do any good but I guess that's something I still need to work on. And all my worrying proved in vain of course because once I arrived it was like all the fear left. Through the counselor orientation and talking to more experienced counselors I was able to say that with God's strength, I could do this.

The starting day of the first week rolled around and with it all the happy campers arrived. My campers didn't arrive till much later because they were coming from the airport. When they did come I was so overwhelmed. In a good way! Through the week the girls became closer to me and my co-counselor to the point we were almost like sisters. It was wonderful! Oh yes and my co-counselor was amazing! Second week was much the same. It was incredible to see these young disciples making life changing decisions for Christ. It brought me to tears several times.

But something that struck my the last night at camp was why God had brought me here. I wanted to kick myself for not realizing it till then. At home I had really been struggling to keep my trust in God. Many things have been happening in my family and it's been really hard to see where God is leading.

Being at camp I had to trust God every moment. It wasn't optional. I had to trust in him to put his words in my mouth, to guide everything I did. God had planted me there at camp as a counselor to get me back on track. The world had threatened to turn me upside down, and when God saw that He came to set me right side up.

I had never seen God work in so many lives as I did this year at camp. I hadn't come to camp expecting to look at it as a mission field. But it is. A huge mission field. You literally are a missionary. Us counselors and staff working overtime for God to bring others to Him. And through that He brings us closer to Him too from what I experienced. I hadn't expected to gain a bigger blessing at camp than when I was a camper. I mean I'm a counselor right, your the one that is supposed to be giving not receiving. But I did receive numerous blessings. I don't think the girls in my unit knew how much I struggle to keep a smile on my face. How hard it was to keep walking up that hill every morning to breakfast. How hard it was to put myself out of my comfort zone every day. But through my girls endless smiles and laughter and God's strong hands they kept me going even when I felt like falling in the dust and crying from mental and physical exhaustion.

Through those hidden blessings I have returned home stronger and more determined than ever to keep trusting in God. I have seen what God can do through me and others when we do trust in Him. And it's powerful. Yes we are just His hands here on earth. But hands can do a lot, a whole lot.

Get Away...

The midnight wind whistled through the Irish clover, touched by the silvery moonlight. The sound of galloping hooves hitting the sand disturbed a snoozing seagull who was sent gliding into the air. It was this night that Bridget O'Mally decided she would have a midnight escapade. Only this escapade was not of pleasure. Her flaming red, waist length ringlets soared freely down her back and her sea green eyes were filled with fury. Her ebony mount struggled to keep his footing in the soft sand as she steered    him over the ghostly drift logs. They thundered down the Gaelic shore as one. Bridget's gaze never strayed from the shoreline before her. She had had to get away. Get away from that house. She had been trying to be strong for so long, but she just couldn't do it anymore. Was she scared? Yes, perhaps she was scared. Scared out of her mind.



She urged the stallion faster.....





Everything was changing around her too quickly, as if she was standing still and the world was spinning fifty times faster than it normally should.





She urged him faster yet.....






And the worst part of it was that this had all happened the same way before. She couldn't stand the thought of reliving that nightmare.





And faster again.....




She didn't want to do this again. She couldn't. She had no strength left in her to take any more of it. Why did it have to happen?




She tried to push the horse faster. His foaming legs and shoulders and his labored breathing finally awakened Bridget out of her thoughts. She slowed the horse down to a walk and halted him by a large piece of driftwood. Tying his reins to the log she stroked his sweat drenched hide. She felt truly sorry and she tried to make the poor stallion realize that.

Removing her heavy riding boots she dug her feet into the sand, still slightly warm from the summer sun. Slowly she walked to the edge of the sea and let the waves play tag with her ankles. Staring out onto the glassy water she wondered what tomorrow would bring. For as much as she hated to admit she would have to return to that little stone cottage she called home.

The moon shone high above her casting her shadow brightly on the shore. She breathed in the salty air that was slightly accented by the smell of clover wafting from the meadows. Her parents had told her that God was with them in all this. But what she wanted to know is how he could do this to her and her family for a second time.

Yet, he must have a plan she reasoned. And who was she to question the mind of her Heavenly Father. All He needed from her is to be patient and have faith that he would carry them through. She sighed, how could she have doubted His care for her? She lowered herself onto the sand and hugged her knees to her chest. Closing her eyes she laid her head in her lap and begged her Father to give her strength to carry on. Only not her own strength, but His strength. To let Him carry her cause she could not do it on her own. And also faith. Faith that everything would turn out for the better if she just allowed Him to take her hand and lead her.

Rising to her feet she walked back to her stallion who was lazily browsing on sea grass by the log. Remounting she looked off onto the sea one last time. She could do it now. She could take it. But what was different is that she had her Father next to her to go through it with her. And with Him by her side...a nightmare could become an adventure.

Trust

Trust. That's a small word with a big meaning isn't it. At least it is to me. What does that word mean to you? Have you really ever thought about it? The dictionary says it's " reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, ect., of a person or thing; confidence." but I think it has a deeper meaning. It goes deeper than that  meaning for me, to be able to trust someone is to be able to tell them your inner most thoughts and feelings and know that they won't judge you any less and will still love you for who you are. If you think about it, that's a huge thing to ask of a simple, sinful, human being. But we do. And not everyone takes it seriously, as I have found out.  About three years ago I entered into a couple friendships. I ended up trusting these people with everything, and loving them too (or back then what I thought was love) only to have them turn around a few months later and stab me in the back without me seeing it coming, leaving me standing there with my heart shattered on the ground. After that, I really didn't trust anyone. I didn't trust my parents, my friends, no one. I'd keep it all inside myself, not even telling God. In fact, I basically lost my trust in God completely, the one being whom we should trust the most, I rejected. I thought if God let that happen to me, and let me enter into those friendships just to become broken and shattered. How could I trust Him with my life? So for a while, I lived my life living by the principle "Trust no one." because I didn't want to be hurt anymore. I took my life into my own hands and built a wall around myself. But you know what? God didn't give up on me. He was working on my heart slowly and surely drawing me to Him again. Through my parents and new friends I was making, God was helping to mend my heart. And going to YD camp the year after all that happened was really good for me ( I actually almost didn't go...but praise the Lord I did!). At camp I re-committed my life to Christ and put my life back in His hands. After that, I was almost a new person. It still took me a while to fully trust people but I have learned to. And I am trusting God again now too. Yes, I still have my moments where I go into little panic attacks worrying about things. But I have learned I just need to step back, take a deep breath, and hand it all to God. The past still haunts me, and when I look back it hurts. But God has shown me something from that too. I'm in way, like a flower that is trying to grow under brown, dirty, fallen leaves and can't see the sunlight. But God comes along and sends the sunlight down harder and warmer until it lifts me out of the leaves and I bloom into a beautiful flower. God can work miracles out of the most horrible situations, He can bring you out of the dark past and into His Sonlight. You just have to trust that He will. And that experience has made me a stronger person too. Like the brown leaves around the flower help fertilize and make it stronger and help it grow, it was not in vain. So, my dear friends, if you find yourself in a similar situation run to Jesus. He's the only one that can mend your heart, you can not mend it yourself. Run to Jesus, Trust in Him, and He will make you new.

The Legacy

Chris Allen roared up the mountain highway in his red motorcycle with new found gumption as a little country road came into sight. He was on his summer vacation from medical school at Harvard University. He couldn’t wait to get to his summer house up in the mountains of Montana. He longed to see the rolling meadows bursting with wildflowers, and the rippling creek he often caught his dinner in. But most of all, there was the old man. The old painter who lived in the broken down barn in the field behind his cabin. Chris had found him there when he had first bought the place, and he had truly come to love Fred Peters as a grandfather and best friend. Chris had been shocked at Fred’s paintings, they seemed so alive. In some of them it almost seemed as if you touched them they would burst into life.
Fred had taught him how to paint that first summer. He’d said Chris had a talent for it, and Chris had to admit, he was pretty good if he did say so himself. He was nowhere near as good as Fred, but he hoped that someday he could be. So, since that first summer five years ago they had painted the days away, painting almost anything that came into sight. And Chris couldn’t wait for this year, he thought he had some great ideas for paintings.  
Rolling into the driveway of the small, homey cabin he removed his helmet and brushed his shaggy brown hair across his forehead. Then he grabbed the leather bag off his motorcycle that had all his painting supplies in it. Running into the cabin he grabbed a glass of water and shot out the back door into the overgrown pasture to the barn. The barn sitting in the tall grass as it was already looked like a real life painting. Coming to the gigantic brick red doors he quietly slid them open just large enough for him to slip inside. There in front of him, in the middle of the barn, surrounded by paintings, was Fred. Brush in hand, he was working on a scene of winter mountains covered with thick snow.
Fred slowly creeped up to the old man and stood beside him. “Nice painting you got there sir.” He said with a mischievous smile on his face that made his blue eyes sparkle.
Fred nearly jumped out of his chair, and almost dropped his brush. He turned his head up to face Chris, and the look of horror on his face suddenly broadened into a wrinkled smile.

“ Ahh Chris my boy! You are here! You nearly scared me to death! Not that that would be such a horrible thing considering I’m almost there.” He stated, matter of factly.

“ Oh come on Fred,” Chris smiled, “ You have plenty of years ahead of you!”
“No no my boy, I fear this will be my last summer...” Fred sighed and looked off into the shadows of the barn.
“ Fred, I want you to stop talking like that. You know it’s not true.” Chris looked at Fred a little bewildered.
“I believe it is son, I can feel it...” Fred whispered still looking into the shadows, his eyes holding a certain emptiness.

“Well anyways, that’s not important right now, “ Chris said, trying to change the subject, “ I brought my paints and brushes. Why don’t we paint together a while?”

“Alright that sounds good to me.” Fred answered, turning back to his painting.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as they painted deer, birds, and the wildflowers. They talked about Chris’ schooling and what Fred had been painting since last summer. Before they knew it, it was sundown and Chris invited Fred in the cabin to have dinner. When they had finished eating Chris said goodnight to Fred and watched him head back to the barn where he slept on a small cot, barely big enough for him. Chris worried about Fred, something had changed since last summer. And there was a nagging in the back of his mind that perhaps, this was Fred’s last summer.

The next few weeks flew by faster than Chris realized, June had turned to July, and now it was almost the last week of August. Chris would have to leave in 3 weeks. The day before he was to leave Chris and Fred walked out to the middle of the meadow to paint the sunset. The hues of pink, orange, and red captivated them as they painted in silence. They listened to the crickets and robins singing their night songs as the first stars started to blink. After they had finished, they moved up onto the covered porch of the cabin and sat, staring at the horizon.

“Have you ever thought of how people will remember you, Chris?” Fred broke the silence.

Chris turned to face the grizzled man beside him. “No, not really. I do suppose I’ll be remembered as a doctor, eventually, and hopefully a good friend. Why do you ask?”

“Have you ever wanted to leave your mark on the world? To be remembered? To leave a legacy?” Fred said in hushed tones.

“Well, I suppose in a way I have...” Chris answered.

“I’ve wanted to. That’s one of the reasons I started painting. I just want to be remembered. I wanted to sell my paintings, but I never had the nerve to do it. I was always to scared that I would get rejected.”Fred whispered,tears glistening in his eyes, “ See son, you will have a legacy, you are going to be a doctor. I never had the chance to go to a fancy college like you. I was never even married. Yes, I’ve had a good life, but to have the thought that no one even knew you existed is a frightening thought.”

Chris never knew about Fred’s past, but now that he did, he felt sorry for him. “Well I will remember you Fred you don’t have to worry at all about that!” Chris smiled.

“Thank you son, thank you. I think it’s time I turned in.” Slowly rising from his chair he walked back to the barn. Chris hated to see him walk out there alone, the man deserved more than a cot and a broken down barn. Watching him disappear into the moonlight, Chris went into the cabin.  

The next morning Chris headed out to the barn to see why Fred hadn’t joined him for breakfast. The barn was silent in the morning breeze, too silent, Chris knew something was wrong. He slid the barn door open furiously, his heart jumped in his chest. When the sunlight finally filled the dusty barn Chris couldn’t see Fred anywhere. He frantically rushed to the back of the barn where Fred’s cot was. Suddenly, there in front of him, was Fred, lying on his cot. Chris kneeled beside the cot, felt for a pulse, but no, he was gone. Chris’ brain seemed to scream as tears filled his eyes. Through the tears he noticed a folded piece of paper in Fred’s hand. Slipping it out gently he opened it, all it said was “Remember my boy, please, remember the legacy.” Wiping the tears from his eyes, he rose to his feet, he knew what he had to do.

An hour later Chris erected a wooden cross behind the old barn. On it read “Fred Peters: The world’s best painter”. After planting a small purple lupin by his grave Chris gathered as many paintings in the barn as he could fit on his motorcycle to sell in town. He wouldn’t forget Fred, or the legacy he had wanted to leave. Fred would be remembered by the world, Chris would see to that. Taking one last look at the barn as he fastened his helmet Chris sighed, “Goodbye old friend, sleep well. I’ll always remember you.”

The Hall of Shattered Dreams

Long ago, in a world far away, there lived a lonely maiden. Or at least, she was this day. But she was not only lonely, she was also tremendously sad. Her soft, brown curls dripped with rain as she ran into her castle. As she forced her way through the enormous wooden doors she crumbled to her knees putting her face in her hands. Tears fell through her fingers making small pools on her crimson dress.
Lightning flashed outside the door sending gloomy shadows over the hard stone floor. Stumbling to her feet, she slowly crawled up the dark, silent staircase in front of her. At the top of this staircase was her secret hall. The hall where all her dreams gathered and were stored until they could be fulfilled. Unfortunately, there was not much left in her hall of dreams.
When she reached the top of the stairs her eyes gazed at the all too familiar, large silver door covered with the most intricate swirling engravery. Taking a simple metal key out of her dress pocket she slid it into the lock and opened the door. There was not much light in her hallway, a few candles here and there made it so that you could see the paintings hanging on the stately walls.
The maiden always felt comfortable in the candlelight, it seemed to always make her calm and happy. But not today, today those candles seemed as though they were being used for a funeral. She walked into the entryway and closed the silver door with a hollow thud behind her. Gliding slowly down the hall her tears seemed to fall from her deep green eyes with even greater intensity as she stared at the paintings. Before, they had been some of the most beautiful paintings she had ever seen, now that had changed. At the beginning of the hallway most of the paintings were gold framed with diamonds around the edges. The paintings themselves were small, bright and colorful and full of joy. These dreams had already been fulfilled and a small smile creeped about her face through her tears as she remembered them.

The middle paintings of the hallway were still full of life and color but many of them had lost their glow or the glass had been shattered. These paintings were much larger and there were fewer of them lining the walls because of this. The last of the hallway was covered with some of the most elaborate, and newest paintings she had added to her hallway. They had been crammed in almost any place she could put them and were truly works of art. Yet, almost all of the paintings, especially those near the top, had been shattered and cracked. Their frames no longer holding the glimmer of silver or gold. and the color of the paintings scarred with the small glass fragments.

Sobbing, she stared at her shattered paintings with a broken heart. She had wanted so much for these paintings to be fulfilled, more than any she had ever discovered.

Remembering those paintings and what they used to be tore at her inside. There seemed to be no more room for any more paintings on her walls and she did not know what to do.  Picking up pieces of glass that had fallen to the stone floor she stared at them glimmering in the candlelight. Disgusted, she tossed them to the floor and flew out the back door onto a small covered balcony. The storm had passed now and rays of sun were starting to peek through the clouds. She almost didn’t notice the gentle eyes of a tall man staring at her until she turned to go back inside. Frightened she backed away to the other side of balcony keeping her eyes on the ground.

Finally, through little glimpses, she had recognized this man as her Father. She was almost too ashamed to look Him in the eyes. Yet, he seemed to be drawing her to Him. She cautiously made her way closer and forced herself to look into His face. He did not say a word, but just looked at her with the gentleness and compassion she saw in his eyes. He slowly wrapped His arms around her and she gladly rested her head on His chest. Her tears made streams down His white shirt as he caressed her head.

Somehow, she now knew everything would be all right. Yes, some of her paintings were gone forever. But she now realized that her future was in her Father’s hands, and that he had beautiful paintings for her that she didn’t even know about. All she had to do was trust...trust her Father...and everything would be all right.

Never Give Up

...A shiny, black Ford truck came to a screeching halt out in front of the Crystal View Riding Stable. The door flew open as Amy Neal jumped out of the drivers seat. Her red western riding boots hit the dry summer earth creating a cloud of dust. She stormed into the barn and plopped herself down on a bale of hay, crossing her arms across her chest. They had done it again. This was the fourth year in a row she had tried to receive her jockey license. But no, each year they kept insisting that being a jockey is not a woman's job. She didn't know for the life of her why. She had all the experience, her training record was exceptional, the board of jockeys had said so, but they had still denied her. She even had the perfect racehorse, her black Thoroughbred stallion. Black Jack was a tall 17 hands and he ran like shear lightning. Amy had no doubt he could win any race she entered him in. She stood, taking off her cowboy hat, and wiped her sweaty forehead. She walked to her stallions stall, and he nickered and pranced to the door when he saw her. Amy traced the star in the middle of his broad forehead. His big brown eyes seemed to read her thoughts. He pressed his nose against her chin, “All right all right!” She exclaimed, with a little smile. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a long, skinny carrot which was immediately chomped up by the stallion. She had been ready to give up until she had looked into her stallions eyes. The fire in his eyes seemed to encourage her in anything she did. She would try again, tomorrow. And this time she wasn't giving up as easily. She was going to make those board members see her stallion run. Then they could decide.

The next morning Amy flew out of bed and slipped into her best riding jeans and denim jacket. Grabbing a piece of toast as she ran to the car, she was still jumping into her boots as she climbed in. When she arrived at the stables she hitched up the horse trailer and skipped up to Black Jack’s stall. Today was the day her life would change forever, she was sure of it. Haltering him, she led the horse out into the crisp morning sunshine and loaded him into the trailer. She threw Jack’s racing saddle and bridle in the back of the truck, and took off for the jockey headquarters. She had called the night before telling the board members what she was planning to do. And to say the least, they were not happy. But, she was persistent, and had managed to arrange one last meeting with them at the racetrack that morning.

Driving up to the track she noticed that the board of jockeys had already gathered at the track railing. She stopped the truck and walked to the back of the trailer to saddle up her stallion. She had nothing to say to those men, all she wanted was to make them watch her boy fly. Black Jack could already tell he was going to run. He pranced about her feet as she tightened the cinch and slid the bit between his teeth. Finally, she was ready, she jumped onto his slender back and gathered the reins as he tried to rear. She kicked him into a trot as they passed the track gate and neared the starting line. Her heart seemed to be full of a thousand butterflies, and she could feel that Jack knew how nervous she was. He pulled on the bit as she stopped at the line, tossing his massive head back and forth. Jack seemed to act as if his hooves were on hot coals as he pranced around under her.

She closed her eyes and listened to the silence of the still morning air. A robin sang in the distance as if totally oblivious to the fear and excitement she was feeling. Opening her eyes she took a deep breath and took one more glance at the disapproving spectators. Focusing her gaze at the track between the stallions ears she merely touched his sides as he lurched into a gallop. They were off. The stallion's head and neck stretched out into a straight line as she crouched low on his back. The howling wind blew her light brown hair and intertwined it with the ebony mane of Jack. Guiding him on the edge of the inner rail, she knew he was running as fast as he knew how.

They were halfway around the track now. Jack wasn’t even winded, and Amy pushed him faster as they rounded the last curve. She felt his body grow closer to the ground as he dug his hooves into the soft turf. She closed her eyes once again and pushed her face into the wind. For a moment she almost forgot about her dilemma and merely enjoyed the sense of freedom.The finish line was just up ahead and she could tell that the eyes of the board members were all on her. She knew she had ridden well today, and she also knew her stallion had ran faster than ever before. As Jack’s front hoof crossed the finish line, she caught her breath. Now she had to face their decision.

She slowed Jack to a canter as she moved over to where the men were talking. Halting him at the rail she looked down on them. Somehow, being able to look down at them  gave her a small amount of ease. When they noticed she was there the President turned to face her.

“Well Miss Neal, I have to say that is quite the stallion you’ve got there...and you rode very well.” He said with a sly smile creeping across his face.

“Um, thank you sir, I’m glad you liked it. But please I would like your decision.”

“Yes of course. I’ll get straight to the point....” Now Amy thought she already knew the answer. Her stomach seemed to rise to her throat. They couldn’t do it again, not after today, they just couldn’t.

“We have discussed it and have come to the conclusion that perhaps we were a bit prejudice in our earlier decision.” Amy was speechless. “So...we have decided to give you your license on one condition.”

“One condition....?” She asked, her stomach still wanting to choke her.

“Yes, That you run that stallion of yours in as many races as you can enter. Girl, you have a winner!” He smiled and winked at her.

“Oh! Yes sir! Of course sir! Anything you say sir!” Amy felt like she was floating on the clouds. She had done it! She was going to have her license. She hugged her stallion’s neck with a smile as big as Kentucky lighting up her face.

Leaving the track that day Amy couldn’t stop smiling. She still could not believe what had just happened. And to think that she had almost given up hope frightened her. She had learned a important lesson, never...never give up...

The Act of Forgiveness

....Waking to the pain in her head she tried to rise from the ground only to fall back grabbing her side. Feeling something smooth and wet she gasped in horror at the site of blood, and then it all flashed back. The clashing swords, thundering hooves, and the screams of the wounded knights falling to the ground. She finally scrambled to her feet and limped over the fallen bodies of the brave souls. Seeing the glint of a familiar cape she half limped half ran to the side of her fallen friend. Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees beside him. Taking the sleeve of her dress she wiped the dried blood from his face. Why did it have to happen! She didn't mean for it to end this way. Wind ruffled the edges of the fallen knights cloak, almost as though he still breathed. Her heart would leap at each little gust; but no, it was true. He was gone---there was nothing to be done. Rising to her feet, she clenched her jaw and shook her fist at the horizon where the enemy had disappeared, vowing with everything in her that she would be avenged.  She left the field of horror in a blaze of passion and emotion, swinging herself onto a horse that had escaped and thundered away. The pound of horses hooves had barely died away when a movement on the field betrayed that one had not yet breathed his last. She flew from her horse as she suddenly recognized the the familiar face. It was battle worn and scarred but she would know that face anywhere. She screamed his name as she stumbled to his side. He was breathing heavily, gasping for air. She fell at his side and gently removed the silver helmet from his head and lifted his head onto her lap. Her tears fell in little pools onto his breastplate as she wiped his hair away from his eyes. She didn't know what to say, and didn't even know if she could. Her heart beat in her throat as if trying to suffocate her. Finally she was able to whisper “I'm sorry...I'm sorry” saying it over and over again. The knights eyelids fluttered and she seemed to stop breathing. She said his name and he slowly turned to look at her. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she stroked his hair. “I'm sorry...so sorry”. He slowly turned his deep brown eyes up toward her glassy green ones. Lifting his arm painfully he touched her face and whispered “ It's ok.....It's ok....”. “ No it's not! It was all my fault I led you all into a trap!” she sobbed as she closed her eyes to squeeze out the pain she had bee trying to ignore in her side. The knight stroked her long brown curls and again whispered “ It's ok...It was an accident...I forgive you” He stared up at her face with a slight smile touching his lips. Her heart seemed to jump at those last words. Forgiven? Her? After all that she'd done? She stared into his face wondering what to do or say. “Will you help me up? I think I can stand...” the knight said, breaking the silence between them. She stumbled to her feet, cringing at the wound in her side. She helped the gallant knight up and put his arm around her shoulder. They slowly walked to the patient horse and she helped him mount it. It was then that she finally found the words to say, “Why? Why did you forgive me after all of this...” she said with tears still spilling down her face. “Because you have always been here for me, and I know you didn't mean it. You are a true friend my dear Princess, and I will always be loyal to you.” Her heart lurched within her, “Thank you....thank you...”. She climbed behind him on the horse and put her arms around his neck giving him a hug. She had committed a great mistake, yes, and it would take a long time to heal. But she had a friend to help her along the way...a friend that would not leave her...and that she was eternally great full for. Galloping off into the morning sun she left that awful past behind. But before her was a new horizon, waiting to be conquered....