flash - droppdf1.droppdf.com/files/qq02i/flash-rachel-anne-ridge.pdf · flash : the homeless donkey...
TRANSCRIPT
Storiesthatteachspirituallessons,delightwithhumor,andmakemeleaninclosertoGod’sheartaremyfavorites!Andthisunlikelytreasureofabookdoesjustthat.YouwillfallinlovewithFlashandthewayRachelAnneprocessestheirstorytogether.
LYSATERKEURST,NewYork
LYSATERKEURST,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofTheBestYesandpresidentofProverbs31Ministries
WhenIfirstheardthatRachelRidgehadwrittenabookaboutherfamily’sdonkey,Flash,Ihadnoideawhattoexpect.Nothingcouldhavepreparedmeforsuchadelightfulexperience!IlovedeverypageofFlash,and
Rachelhassuchagiftforstorytellingthatyoucanabsolutelypictureeachscene.ThisbookmademelaughatFlash’santicsandcryasIidentifiedwiththelessonshehastaughtherfamilyaboutthewayGodlovesusandseesus.ThisbookwillmakeyoufallinlovewithourSavioralloveragainand,
morethanlikely,makeyouhopeyoucanhaveyourownpetdonkeysomeday.
MELANIESHANKLE,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofSparklyGreenEarringsandTheAntelopeintheLivingRoom
Thisbookisadelight;it’sanhonest,funny,andencouragingreminderofthecreative,lovingwaysthat
Godpursuesus,teachesus,andchangesus.Granted,IneverexpectedthatI’dhavesomuchincommonwithadonkey,butFlashhastaughtmemorethanIcouldhaveimagined.You’regoingtolovethisbook,andwhenyoufinishreadingit,you’regoingtowanttofollowFlash’sleadandrunwithhorses.
SOPHIEHUDSON,authorofHomeIs
SOPHIEHUDSON,authorofHomeIsWhereMyPeopleAreandbloggeratBooMama.net
Flashisamarvelous,wonderful,funny,touching,andilluminatingbook.TheauthormakesthegooddonkeyFlashcomealiveonthepages.IagreewithRachelthatGodusesallsortsofthings—fromdogsto
donkeys—toteachusmoreabouthimself,andallwehavetodoispayattention.
JIMKRAUS,bestsellingauthorofTheDogThatTalkedtoGod
Charming,poignant,funny,honest—RachelAnne’sjourneywithFlashthedonkeyispurereadingpleasureasshesharesherfamily’smisadventureswith
theirfour-leggedfriend.Sheopensherhearttousaswell,helpinguslearnmemorablelessonsaboutdoinglifewithmoremeaningandpurpose.Flashisdelightfullydifferent.Ilovedit!
LIZCURTISHIGGS,bestsellingauthorofTheGirl’sStillGotIt
Whatacharming,endearing,numinousbook—anddonkey!Fromthefirstchapter,youwillimmediatelyfallinlovewithRachelAnneRidgeandherbelovedFlash.Bythelastline,youreyeswillbeopenedtoseeingthewaysGodshowsupandrevealsHimselfinthemostunexpected—anddelightful—ways.
LISAWHELCHEL,actressandauthorofTheFactsofLifeandFriendshipforGrown-Ups
IalwaysstandamazedatGod’sinfinitecreativity.WhenRachelandTomRidgefacedafinancialcrisis,Iwouldhavesuggestedafinancialadvisororcareercounselor.Godchosetosendahomelessdonkey.Flash
usedhisconsiderabledonkeycharmtoteachthefamilylessonsaboutservice,faithfulness,purpose,passion,andsecondchances.Youwilllaugh(often)attheanticsofFlash.YouwillbetouchedbytheauthenticityofRachel’swritingandthedepthofthelessonsGod
revealedthroughanabandoneddonkeywithbigearsandabiggerheart.
DAVEBURCHETT,authorofStayandWhenBadChristiansHappentoGoodPeople
Akick-in-the-pantsread!Flashismemoirplusheartwarmingandsometimesstressfulanimalstory,mixedtogetherwithspiritualtruth,
alltemperedwithhumoratjusttherightspots.ThoughIliveinthesuburbs,thismademewanttodisobeymyneighborhood’sbylawsandgetmyselfadonkey!
MARYDEMUTH,authorofTheWallaroundYourHeart
RachelRidgehasabeautifulabilitytotakethecommonthingsoflife(likewords)and
crafttheminsuchawaythattheyflowlikeproseandpoetry.SubmergingyourselfinFlashistobecomelostinabeautifulgalleryofherfinestart.Witheachturnofthepage,themasterstorytellersharesaglimpseofhumor,revelation,andhope.We’dallliketohaveafriendlikeFlash,faithfulandtrue.Irecommendthisbook
toanyonewhohaseverneededatrue-bluefriend,asecondchance,orafreshperspective.
JANGREENWOOD,pastorofGatewayWomen(GatewayChurch)andauthorofWomenatWar
IbelievethatsinceCreation,GodhasusedanimalstoteachusaboutourselvesandaboutourCreator—ifwe’ll
payattention.Rachelpaysattention,andsowillherreadersastheydelightinaquirkyandlovabledonkey,Flash.
DANDIDALEYMACKALL,authorofWinnietheHorseGentler,BackyardHorses,andtheStarlightAnimalRescueseries
Whatintheworldcouldadonkeyteachmeaboutlife?Lots.Why?Becausedonkeysaresimplecreatureswholivesimplelives.Isn’tsimplicityexactlywhatsomanypeopleareseekingtofindamidtheirbusyandhecticexistences?Inthepagesofthisbook,youwillfind—inthelifeofRachelAnneRidgeandinthelifeofhersurprisepetdonkey
—thatsimplicityisbeautiful.CHRYSTALHURST,coauthorofKingdomWoman
Reader,BEWARE!Bytheendofthisbookyouwillbesearchingforadonkeyforyourownpersonalgrowth!Fromnowon,everytimeIseeoneofthesemarvelouscreaturesoutinthefield,IwillthinkofFlash,andIam
sureasmileorgigglewillfollow,forthisburroofburdenisladenwithhumorandwisdom.Rachelhasdignifiedalowlycreaturetothepointthatyouthinkitalmostnecessarytofenceinyouryard,buysomehay,andwaitforthelessonstobegin.
TINAWESSON,Survivor:TheAustralianOutback(SeasonTwo)winner
Ilovedthiswhimsical,vulnerable,andsimplyprofoundbook!Racheltellshowabroken,lost,andstubbornanimalawakenedherawarenessofGod’svoiceinherlife.Herstorygiveshopetoanyonewhohaseverfeltinadequateorunseen.Shetakesthesimpleandmakesitshinetoencouragethereader
tolookwithafreshperspectiveatthepotentialGodputsineachofus.
PAIGEC.GREENE,directorofAdultEvents,LifeWayChristianResources
BravotoRachelRidgeforthisbeautifullywrittenbookthatsoeloquentlyremindsusthatoureverydayhappeningsinlifecanbegreatlessons
andblessingsindisguisefromourMaker—evenintheformofadonkey!TwothingsyouwillwantwhenyouturnthelastpageareadonkeyinyouryardandRachelasoneofyourbesties!
CINDYOWEN,GivenEntertainmentGroup
VisitTyndaleonlineatwww.tyndale.com.
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Flash:TheHomelessDonkeyWhoTaughtMeaboutLife,Faith,andSecondChances
Copyright©2015byRachelAnneRidge.Allrightsreserved.
Dustjacketphotographsofdonkeycopyright©ThomasRidge.Allrightsreserved.
Coverphotographofdaisycopyright©iava777/Dollarphotoclub.Allrightsreserved.
Weatheredwoodtexturescopyright©DanaGarsonDesign.Allrightsreserved.
Unlessotherwisenoted,allotherartworkcopyright©RachelAnneRidge.Allrightsreserved.
DesignedbyStephenVosloo
EditedbyBonneSteffen
PublishedinassociationwiththeliteraryagencyofWilliamK.JensenLiteraryAgency,119BamptonCourt,Eugene,OR97404.
Unlessotherwiseindicated,allScripturequotationsaretakenfromtheHolyBible,NewLivingTranslation,copyright©1996,2004,2007,2013byTyndaleHouse
Foundation.UsedbypermissionofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.,CarolStream,Illinois60188.Allrightsreserved.
ScripturequotationsmarkedNKJVaretakenfromtheNewKingJamesVersion,®copyright©1982byThomasNelson,Inc.Usedbypermission.Allrightsreserved.
ScripturequotationsmarkedTLBaretakenfromTheLivingBible,copyright©1971byTyndaleHouseFoundation.UsedbypermissionofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.,CarolStream,Illinois60188.Allrightsreserved.
ScripturequotationsmarkedESVaretakenfromTheHolyBible,EnglishStandardVersion®(ESV®),copyright©2001by
Crossway,apublishingministryofGoodNewsPublishers.Usedbypermission.Allrightsreserved.
Somenamesanddetailshavebeenchangedfortheprivacyoftheindividualsinvolved.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Ridge,RachelAnne.Flash:thehomelessdonkeywhotaughtmeaboutlife,faith,andsecondchances/RachelAnneRidge.pagescmISBN978-1-4143-9783-2(hc)1.Animals—Religiousaspects—Christianity.2.Human-animalrelationships.3.Donkeys—Miscellanea.I.Flash(Donkey)II.Title.BV4596.A54R532015
242—dc232015000012
ISBN978-1-4964-0666-8(ePub);ISBN978-1-4143-9788-7(Kindle);ISBN978-1-4964-0667-5(Apple)
Build:2015-04-2210:53:03
ForTom,mybestfriend.
AndforLauren,Meghan,andGrayson,
mygreatestgifts.
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter1:AnUnexpectedGuest
Chapter2:What’sinaName?
Chapter3:TheArcticBlast
Chapter4:FlashRunswithHorses
Chapter5:APastureRomance
Chapter6:SureandSteadyTrails
Chapter7:AMatterofPaternity
Chapter8:WhentheRainStopped
Chapter9:BarnManagement
Chapter10:ChangeComesCalling
Chapter11:Beau
Chapter12:“That’sSomeDonkey”
Chapter13:AnUnlikelyAnswer
LessonsfromFlash
Q&AwithRachelAnneRidge
Acknowledgments
DiscussionQuestions
AbouttheAuthor
Foreword
Goodbooksarelikegoodfriends—difficulttofind.Manycanlookpromisingatthebeginning,onlytodisappointsomewheredowntheline.Evenwhenabookis
recommendedbyapersonyoutrust,youcanneverbesureyou’llexperiencethesameconnection,thatthetwoofyouwillhititoff.
Yetsometimes—oftenforreasonsyoucan’tquiteputafingeron—youchoosetoopenitup,andopenyourselfuptoit.Andeverynowandthen,you’resurprisedand
thankfulatthewarmth,thejoy,theexcitementandpleasureyoudiscoverinside.
I’vehadtheprivilegeoffindingboth—goodbooksandgoodfriends.AndI’mgiddywithjoytointroduceyoutoacoupleofthem.
Rachelcameintomylifeoveradecadeagowithafriendshipsopureandlastingandimpactfulthatithasmade
meabetterperson.Notintheorybutinreal,tangible,practicalways.She’staughtmehowtolookforanddiscovertheprofoundbeautytuckedawayinsimplicity,thelovelydetailsthatsomeoneelsemightmissbecausethey’retoobusyortootiredortooself-absorbedtocare.
TheselittlenuancesoflifeareRachel’streasures.I’vewatchedhertakethemundaneandroutine,thecommonplaceandplain,andsqueezedropsofsurprisinggoodnessandvitalityfromthemuntileveryoneinhersphereissaturatedwithhopeandlove.Sherecreateswhatotherswoulddiscard,turningitintosomethingmemorable
andworthcapturing.From
herperspective,everythingisbuddingwithendlessandimmensepossibility.
Soadecadeagowhenshedroveuptoanunkempt1970sfarmhouse,shesawonlytheblossomingpotentialofacozy,tenderplaceherfamilycouldcallhome.Andsheloveditandcaredforituntilitwas.
Yearslater,whenherseconddaughtermetthemanofherdreams,Racheltransformedaweed-filled,neglectedacreofgroundintoalushcarpetofgreeneryarchedwithluxuriousfoliagetowelcome250guestsandawalkdowntheaisle.
Andthereception.Oh,thereception!Atimeworn,misshapenbarnbecamea
vintageparadisehungwithchandeliersanddainty,twinklingwhitelightsthatseemedtodancetothebeatofthemusic,likefluffsofwhitedandelions,blownloosefromtheirstemsandcarriedawayontheeveningbreeze.
ThisisRachel’sway.Creatinggoodnesswherethereseemstobenonein
sight.AndsowhenFlash
showedup—whenhesaunteredupherquarter-miledriveway,lost,dazed,frightened,andwonderingwherehisnextmealwouldcomefrom—he’djustmoseyedunawareintothewide-openarmsofgrace.IntothearmsofRachelRidge.Theonewhoseesbeauty
everywhereandineverything.Eveninadirty,hungry,unwanted,displaceddonkey.
Hewashome.Rachelandherhusband,
Tom,lookedforFlash’sownerforawhile.Imean,canyoublamethem?Whoneedsadonkeyaroundtobrushandfeedandtakecareof?Butthendaysfoldedinto
weeks,andthoseweeksdisappearedintomonths,andsuddenlyyearshadgoneby—andFlashwasapermanentfixture.Yardart,asshelikestocallhim.Hemorphedfromaprojectintoapet,thenintoapassion,andfinally...intoapresent.
Agift.Firsttoher,andthenfromhertoyou.Andtome.
Andthethingis,Flashisagift.IneverthoughtI’dbethekindofgirlwhocouldwarmuptoadonkey,butFlashstolemyheart,aswellastheheartsofmythreesons,whodecidedhewastheirownpersonalpetfromtheveryfirstday.Hispenchantforfollowingclosebehindthemwithhissoftmuzzlenudgingthebacksoftheir
shoulders,beggingtoberubbedandcaressed,isthehighlightoftheirtimewithhim.Flashkeepshisheadsoclosetotheirsthattheybasicallybump.Theyloveit.Theylovehim.Whenmyboysshowupatthegateandcallhisname,hecomestrottingupenthusiastically.
He’sbeenlookingforthem,waitingforthem.Andthey’vebeenwaitingforhim.
Turnsoutweallwereandjustdidn’tknowit.
BecausewithFlash,thelifelessonsweren’tlongincoming.Rachelwouldtellmeabouthowhewasalwaysabletoescapethroughtheonesolitaryholeinhismile-longfence.Oraboutthe
friendshe’dmadewithcrittersinthenextpastureandhissometimesobstinaterefusaltomoveoneinch,nomatterhowhardanyonetuggedonhishalter.OrhisrelationshipwithBeau,thefamily’sbeautifulyellowLab,andhowtheyfinallymadeniceafteralong-standingfeud.
Witheachnewadventurehascomeanewlesson,anewgemtoenhanceallofourlives.Imagesandinsightsthatcouldeasilygounnoticedbysomeonelessobservantandinterested.ButRachelseesallthesplendorhiddenintheseregularsimplicitiesoflife.Shecapturesdetailsanddigsforbeauty,payingattentionandcausingotherstodothe
same.Which,bytheway,isalso
theessenceofgoodwriting.Andthat’sexactlywhat
youareholdinginyourhands.Rachel’sgood,goodwriting.
We’resogratefultoTomandRachelforturninganinterruptionintoanopportunity,forgivingastraydonkeyanewhomeanda
newname,forlettingFlashintotheirlives.Becauseindoingso,theylethimintoours.
Andnow,Rachel’slettinghimintoyours.
Everylessonyou’llfindtuckedintothesepageswillmakeyoulaugh,justasmuchasitwillmakeyoulearn.Andwhenyouturnthefinalpage,you’llbesurprisedto
discoveryou’vefoundtwothingsinone:agoodbookaboutadonkeynamedFlash,andagoodfriendinasimplecountrygalnamedRachel.
Andyou’llneverlookateitherofthemquitethesameagain.
Flash’sfan,PriscillaShirer
Prologue
Theideahadseemedsosolid.Orattheveryleast,romantic.Myhusband,Tom,andIlaunchedanartandmuralbusinessintheDallas–FortWorthareaduringthe
boomingearly2000s....Whatcouldpossiblygowrong?GatedcommunitiesfilledwithEuropean-styledmansionswerespringingupeverywhereasthegoodeconomictimesrolledin.Aninsatiabledemandforthebestofeverythinginamenitiesanddecorkeptusbookedfor
monthsatatimecreatinginteriormasterpiecesfordiscriminatingclients.
Notbadforacompanythathadstartedasmylittlehobby,paintingupbirdhousesandsellingtheminlocalshops.“DreamBig”wasmyhighlyoriginal,personalmotto.Andithadbeenmydreamtomakeenoughmoneytogetmyhair
highlightedregularlywithoutdippingintothefamilygrocerybudget.Goodgrief,thosehighlightsareexpensive.Thatwasaboutasloftyasmyearlygoalshadbeen.Istayedhomewiththreechildren,desperatelyneedingthiscreativeoutlet,whileTomworkedlonghoursintheelectronicsmanufacturingfield.
Whenthephonebegantoringwithrequestsforbiggerandgranderpaintingprojects,suddenlymyhobbybecamemorethanIcouldhandle.Ineededhelptopullitoff,andmyhusbandwasjustthepersontobringin.Tomlovedcreatingartwithmeonnightsandweekends,lendinghistalentsandmusclepower,sincebynowscaffoldsand
liftingheavysupplieswereinvolved.Asacreativespiritstuckinapreciselycontrolledindustry,hesecretlylongedforawaytoleavethecorporatetreadmillanddosomethingwithhisartistictalents.AndwhenTom’sjobevaporatedinanindustrydownturn,itappearedtobetheperfecttimetolaunchourdreamtogether.
Ithadtobedivineprovidence,right?
Soitwas,indeed,agoodmomenttostartaventurewehadnopriortrainingin.Wewouldwingit.
Wewantedtocreatebeautifulthingsandpaintstuffandmakepeoplehappy.Itwasasimpledream.Anditworked,mostly.Yes,thecyclicalnatureofthehousing
marketchallengedusmorethanweanticipated.Weknewthat“feastandfamine”seasonswereprerequisitesforentrepreneurialtriumph.Butdoingwhatwelovedmadeeachdayanadventure,andwewerethrilledtowakeupandknowweweregoingtomakeartthatpeopleenjoyed.
Wehadourthreekidsandourdogandourdream,andwesaid,“Itisenough.”
Forseveralyears,ourlifewasexactlythat.Enough.Wereveledintheexperience.
Now,cuetheforebodingmusicandentertheburstofthehousingbubble.Therevelingturnedintoreeling.
It’sanoddthingwhensuccessturnstofailure.Lifelooksawholelotdifferentwhenyourmindisconstantlyconcernedwithquestionslikehowwillyoupayyourbills,howwillyouaffordorthodontiaforthekids,andhowwillyoumakericeandbeansremotelyappealinguntilthenextpaycheckarrives.And,really,would
livinginatentbesobad?Youforgettonoticetheskyandthecloudsandthewaythesunlightsparklesonyourdaughter’sredhair,andyoustartnoticingthateveryothercarisashinynewBMWandhowcrowdedthefancyrestaurantsare.Atfirst,youcannotbelieveyourfriendsaretakingcarefreefamilyvacationstoCancun,but
there’stheproof—picturesofthemonFacebook,enjoyingtheirprosperity.Youforgettowalkthedog,althoughitwoulddoyouaworldofgoodtogetsomeexercise,andyoueatfastfoodbecauseit’seasyandbecauseslicinguphealthyvegetablesseemssocomplicated.Youeliminatefrivolityandspontaneity,notbecauseyou
don’thavetimeforthembutbecausethoseareluxuriesrichpeopleenjoy,andyouknowthat“gettingawayforaweekend”mightmeanyoucan’taffordsuppliesforyournextproject.
Mostly,youwonderwhyGodhasletyoudown,whenallyouwantedtodowasthatthingyouthoughtyouwerecreatedtodo.Youfeelcracks
forminginplaceswithinyoursoulthatonceseemedunshakable.Youraiseyourquestionstothesky,butyourprayersplummet,seeminglyunansweredandignored.
Youfeelveryalone.Failurewearslikeawet
woolcoatonasummerday,crushingyourfrillypartydressofoptimismunderneathitsweight.Survivaland
existenceandgoingthroughthemotionsfeellikethebestyoucando,andsometimesthat’sallyoucando.Yougotowork,youputfoodonthetable,youhelpwithhomework,yousmileandcheeratyourkid’shockeygame,youreachforahandundertheblanketsatnight,andyougraspateverysweetmomentyoucan.Butbeneath
thebusynessandactivity,youknowthatsomethingmustchange—oryouwillnotsurvive.
ThisisexactlywhereIfoundmyselfthenightthedonkeyshowedup.
Tomhitthebrakesandbroughtourten-year-oldExplorertoanabruptstoponthegravel.Thedustfromthetiresblewpastusandswirledaroundtheanimalinourheadlights,muchlikesmokeinastageshow.
Itwasadonkey.Inthemiddleofourdriveway.
“Whatintheworld?”myhusbandmutteredaswepeeredthroughthewindshieldatthecreaturewithgiganticears,caughtmidchewandlookingeverybitassurprisedaswedid.Justtwentyfeetinfrontofourbumper,heblinkedhardintothebrightbeams,grassprotrudingfrombothsidesofhismouthandthose
unmistakableearsprickedforward.Westaredathimasheswallowedhismouthfulandstaredbackatus.Thentheearsswiveledaround,andhedidanabout-face,headingfortheshadows.
IturnedtoTom,mynylonjacketrustlingagainsttheseatbelt.
“Hey,that’sa...that’sa...”
“Donkey,”hefinishedforme.Isqueezedmyeyesshut,thenopenedthemquickly,justtobesure.Yep,stillthere.Stilladonkey.“Whatonearthisadonkeydoinghere?”
Tomleanedforwardandsquintedthroughthedarknessatthelumpyshape,whichnowfeastedonaclumpofearlyspringgrassbeyondthe
headlights.Tomrubbedhischin,assessingthesituation.Heputthevehiclein“Park”andreachedaconclusionbeforeIcouldsayanythingelse.
“Somebodyisgoingtorunintothatguyifwedon’tcatchhim,”hesaid,almosttootiredtogetthewordsout.Thenarrow,meanderinglanesthroughtheTexas
countryside,ashadowyMarchnight,speedinglocals,andadonkeyontheloose...itwasanaccidentwaitingtohappen.Andneitheranaccidentnoradonkeyroundupwasonthelistofthingswewantedtodealwithattheendofalong,hardday.
“Justlethimbe,”Ireasoned.“I’msuresomeoneisoutlookingforhim,and
they’llfindhimandtakehimhome.”Iwatchedasthestraydonkeyplungedhisheadintoanotherclump,toreoffthegrass,andmunchedaway.Aneighbor’sfloodlightnowilluminatedhim,andIcouldseehewasscratchedupprettybadly.Maybehe’dalreadybeeninanaccident.Heprobablydidneedourhelp,butstill...allIcould
thinkaboutwastakingawarmshowerandcrawlingintomypajamas.Itwaswellpast9:00p.m.,andwehadn’tseenourkidssincebreakfast.Wewereexhaustedandreadytoputthisawfuldaybehindus.
Ithoughtbacktothatmorning.Itbeganwiththediscoveryofourclient’sgirdleandbrassiere,heaped
inapileonherbathroomfloor.Yes,let’sstartthere.Thesturdyshapewearwasanawkwardobstaclerightinthemiddleoftheroom,hamperingour“glamorous”handiworkaswedecoratedthecrampedspacewithanItaliancountrysidesceneandbecameintimatefriendswiththetoiletintheprocessofworkingaroundit.Tom
finallyusedapaintsticktoscoopuptheundergarments,holdingthematarm’slengthandlookingawayoutofgentlemanlyrespectasheplacedthemonthetubledgesohecouldcontinuethecommodemasterpiece.Goodgrief,it’shotinhere.Whyisthethermostatsetsohigh?Andwhydoesunderwearneedsomuchstructure?
Thedayendedundertheceilingdomeofthehome’sfoyer,balancingonextensionladdersandsweatingprofuselywhilewepliedourbrushes,adding“justafewmoredetails”requestedbytheclientatthelastminutetoapaintingwe’dalreadyfinished—wellbeyondthescopeofouragreement.Somewhereinbetweenthese
twoeventscamethehorrifyingrealizationthatthismuralprojectwouldnotpaytherent.
Wewerelivingourdream.Onlyithadbecomeanightmare.
TomandIbarelyspoketooneanotherasweloadedupourladdersandartistsuppliestoheadhome.Ourkids,thetwowhoremainedunderour
roof,hadeatencerealfordinnerwithoutusandwerehopefullydoingsomethingconstructivewithoutsupervision.Ihadsomereassurancethathomeworkwasunderwayaftermakingseveralcallsfrommyprecariousperchinthefoyer,carefullyinchingthecellphonefrommyrightpockettomyleftearwithout
disturbingmybalance.Likeeveryworkingparent,Iwouldn’tknowforsureuntilIgothomeandsawproof.
Grayson,ourtwelve-year-oldson,couldbeeasilydistractedbyanelaborateLegoprojectormodelairplane,twoofhiscurrentpassionsbesidesicehockey.Meghan,aseniorinhighschool,mighthavespentthe
wholeeveningonthephone,orwritingmusicforherband,orpickingouttomorrow’soutfit.Ouroldestdaughter,Lauren,wasinthemiddleofherfirstyearatanearbyuniversity,studyinggraphicdesignandplanningaweddingwithherhighschoolsweetheart.Betweenthekids’activitiesandourworkload,
lifespunlikeawobblytopmostdays.Icouldn’thelpthesighthatescapedmylips.
IpressedmyforeheadagainstthecoldpassengerwindowintheExplorerandletfatiguewashoverme.Thiswasn’texactlyhowI’denvisionedourfollowing-the-dreamadventureplayingout.Wehadcometotheparttheydon’ttellyouaboutinthe
motivationalbooksandseminars—thepartabouthowinthemidstoflivingoutyourpassionandgoingforallthemarbles,youstillneedtoeatandpaytherent.Lifehasawayofkickingyourdreaminthepants.Addtotheequationorthodontiaforthekidsandcomingupwithcollege
tuition,andyou’vegotsomethingcalledapainfulrealitycheck.
Drivingthepotholedroads,TomandIhadretreatedintoourseparateworldsofsilentdefeatandmutualblame.Webothneededwarmshowersandagoodnight’ssleepsowecouldfaceoursituationwithsomeobjectivityinthe
morning.ButasweturnedtheFordontoourdirt-and-graveldrivewayforthefinal,dustyquartermiletoourhome,there,illuminatedbytheheadlights,wasthedonkey.
Wewatchedhimafewminutesmore;thenTomturnedofftheengineandopenedthedoor.“Thiswon’ttakelong,Rachel,”hesaid
overhisshoulder.“Stayrightthereandkeepaneyeonhim,andI’llberightbackwitharopetocatchhim.We’llputhiminourpasturetonightandfindhisownerstomorrow.Idon’twanttoberesponsibleforanyonegettinghurtbyrunningintohimwithacar.”
Obediently,Isatandwatchedthedonkeycontinuehisvoraciousfeastonthe
roadsidegrass.Whatapointlessanimal,Ithought,but,kindofcute.Aspromised,Tomquicklyreturnedwithanylonrope—andabucket.Thedonkey,thoughsuspiciousofthishumanstranger,immediatelybecameinterestedinthecontentsofthecontainerthat
Tomshookeversoalluringly,andhesteppedclosertoinspectit.Oats!
Itwasthenwemadetheoverconfidentassumptionthat“thisisgonnabeeasy.”
Aclassicrookiemistake.Hey,gettingastray
donkeyinterestedinoatsissimple.Gettinghimropedandconvincinghimtofollowis...notsomuch.Tom,a
toughoutdoorsmanwithasoftspotforanythinginneed,seemedtobeupforthetaskinspiteofthelongdayofworkhe’dhad.Cautiously,heclosedinonthenervousdonkeyandgentlyloopedtheropeoverhisgiganticheadandaroundhisneck.Inacalmvoice,Tomurgedhimtocooperateandflasheda
prematurethumbs-upatthefirsttentativesteps.See,itwasgoingtobeeasyafterall!
“Yay!”Imimed,withadramatichappyfaceandmyownthumbs-upinreply.Ibelievedthedimmoonlightcalledforsomeoveractingtoproperlyconveymyencouragement.Suddenly,thesmallhoovesstoppedand
dugin.Thelittleguyleanedbackandrefusedtotakeanotherstep.
Tomcoaxedandgaveagentletugontherope.Thedonkeybalked.
Tomgavehimnibblesofoats.Hetooktwostepsforward...yes!Thenfivestepstotheside...no!Tompulled.Thedonkeypulled
harderintheoppositedirection.Clearly,thiswasnotworkingaswehadhoped.
Tomcalledmefromthesidelinesintoactiveduty.Hegavemetheropeandwentbehindthedonkey.Withadeepbreath,Tompushed.Ipulled.
Nothing.
Tomputhisshoulderintotheanimal’srump,bracedhisfeet,andpushedwithhislegs,whileIpulledevenharder.
Notaninch.Wedroppedourhandstooursidesandbegantostrategize.
Tomhadabrilliantidea.“Let’sswitchplaces,”hesuggested,butIwasnotsosure.
“He’dbetternothavegas!”Imovedtotherearandplantedmytennisshoesasfarawayaspossibletostayclearofanykicksandpossibleflatulence,whileTomtookholdoftheropeatthedonkey’shead.Stillnoprogress.Theanimalwouldnotbudge.Hesimplylookedatusthroughheavy-liddedeyesasiftosay,“Goahead,
keeptrying.Thisisentertaining.”Hechewedontheoatslikehehadallthetimeintheworld.
Toourexasperation,allthecoaxing,leading,pulling,enticing,anddemandingresultedinthedonkeyonlygettingfartherfromourpasturegatethanwherewehadstarted.
Bynow,thewindhadpickedup,andthebranchesonthetreesswayedinaneeriedancethatspookedthelong-earedintruder.Heboltedintoanearbyyard,pullingTomintoarunalongsidehim,mypoorhusbandhangingontotheropefordearlife.Abathrobe-cladneighborcameouttoseetheruckus,andsheandI
stoodwithourbackstothewindasthecat-and-mousegamecontinueditsspectacle.Threestepsforward,twostepsback.Onestepforward,threestepstotheside.Cajoling,pushing,pleading,chasing.Mercy,itwashardnottolaugh.ButwhenIsawTomripthebaseballcapoffhisheadandthrowitinfrustration,Istifledmy
snicker.Hissmallactofkindnesshadbecomeasheerbattleofthewills.This.Was.War.Respectfully,IgotbackintotheparkedExplorer,pulledagranolabarfrommypurse,andsettledinfortherestoftheshow.
Iwatchedastheyslowlymadetheirwaydowntheblacktoproadandbacktowardourlongdriveway.A
yardlampbacklittheirbodiesintoblacksilhouettes,anditwasthenthatIlaughedoutloud.TherewasTom’sdarkshape,straininghardontheropeuntilhisbodypracticallyparalleledtheground.Andtherestretchedthedonkey’sdarkshape,frontlegslocked,neckdrawnforward,andbackendsittingdownindefiance.Itlookedjustlike
anoldvelvetpaintingI’donceseenofasilhouettedboyandstubborndonkeyinthesamepose.HowIwishedIhadboughtthatclassicpaintingforthisverymomentintime.
FinallyTomfoundarhythmthedonkeycouldcooperatewith,andthetwomoveddownthedriveway,whichwentacrossapond’s
damandthroughatunnelofswayingtrees.Withonearmaroundhisopponent’sneckwhiletalkingquietlyintooneofthosebigears,Tomleanedintotheanimalandknockedonekneeoutfromunderhim.Asthedonkeytriedtocatchhisbalance,Tomtookadvantageoftheforwardmovementandpulledhimanextracoupleofsteps.Byfits
andstarts,theduoarrivedatthepasture,andTomclosedthegateontheskinny-rumpedcreature—threehourslater.
“Done!”hesaid.“Ican’twaittogetridofhimtomorrow.Thatwasoneoftheworstexperiencesofmylife!We’llcallthecountysherifffirstthinginthemorning.”
Bythelightofday,TomandI,alongwithMeghanandGrayson,gatheredinthepasturetotakeagoodlookatourunwillingguest.
Hewasamess.Mudandscabscakedhis
shaggywinterhairintoanugly,mattedcoat.Freshgashesfrombarbedwire
fencesseemedtobeeverywhere,fromheadtohoof,oozingandbleeding.Thescratchescrisscrossedhisfaceandlegs,withafour-inchslicethatwentdeepintothefleshofhisbarrelchest.Thewoundsneededimmediateattention,sowecleanedanddressedthemwithointmentasthedonkeytrembledinsideourthree-
sidedbarn.Althoughitseemedasifheknewoureffortsweremeanttohelphim,heallowedonlybrieftouchesbeforeskittishlymovingjustbeyondourreach.Hislipsquivered,andhistailswishednervously.Wemovedinslowmotion,usinghushedvoicesasweworked.
“It’sokay,donkey.You’reokay,”wereassuredhim.Whatelsehadheexperiencedbeforehissuddenarrivalhere?Wewonderedaloudabouthispast.
Underthemud,hewasalightbrownish-graycolor,withawhitemuzzlethatlookedasifithadbeendippedinadeepbucketof
buttermilk.Amatchingcreamy-whitecolorcircledhisbigbrowneyesandcoveredtheundersideofhisbellywithsofthair.Withfaintstripesadorningsturdylegs,hestoodnotallerthanfourfeetattheshoulder.Howcanananimalthiscompactbesodifficulttomanage?Thedaylightmadehimseemso...well,compliant.
Awispymanetrickleddownabroadneck,andhistail,unlikeahorse’s,wasastrongshaftofmuscleandbonewithlongstrandsofcoarsehairstartingpartwaydown.Along,darkstripedownthecenterofhisbackbeganathismaneanddisappearedintohistail.Upclose,hisearswereevenbiggerthanI’dremembered
fromthenightbefore.Thickandmobile,theywereneverpointingthesamedirectionforverylong.Thecaramel-coloredfuzzthatcoveredthemwasoutlinedbydarkhairaroundtheedgesandtuftedwithcreamontheinsides.Hisstraightblackeyelashesmadehiseyesseemalittlesad,ormaybeitwas
justthewayhislargeheaddroopedthatgavehimsuchamelancholyair.
“Ohlook!”Graysonpointedoutindelightfromhisperchonthefence.“Hehasacrossonhisback!”Achocolate-brownpatternofhairemblazonedacrosshisshouldersdistinctlyintersectedthedarkstripedownhisback.Legendhasit
thateverydonkeybearsthesymbolofChrist,inhonorofHistriumphantentryintoJerusalembeforeHiscrucifixion.Seeingadonkeyface-to-faceforthefirsttimecertainlybroughtthebiblicalstorytomind.Oureyeslingeredonthismarkingandthenwanderedtohismanywounds.Hewas,aswesayinTexas,“toreup.”
TomputhisarmacrossGrayson’sshouldersaswemadeourwaythroughthetallgrassbacktothehouse,whileMeghanstayedtokeepthedonkeycompany.Acreatureloversinceshewasatoddler,Meghanonceclaimedtheabilitytotalktoanimals.Althoughthisonewasmuchlargerthanthehamstersandparakeetsshe’d
communicatedwithbefore,hestilllookedasifheneededafriend.
Shesatonawoodenstepinthebarnneartheshydonkey,chininhand,andlistenedtothebirdssingintheraftersasshewatchedhim.Withwaryeyesonher,thedonkeykepthisdistancebutlingeredinthebarn,ratherthanmakingforthe
pasturebeyond.Aftersomeminuteshadtickedby,hetookonehesitantsteptowardtheslim,redheadedgirl,thenpausedasifthinking.
Thenanotherstep.Alittlecloser.
Aflybuzzed.“It’sokay,buddy,”
Meghanmurmured.Sheturnedapalmupinsilentbeckoning.
Andanotherstep.Alongminute.Ears
twitching.Blowinghard.Thechirpingbirdsoblivioustotheslowdancebelow.
“Iwon’thurtyou.”Closer.“You’resafenow.”Alittlecloserstill...
untilhistentativenostrilstouchedherknees.
“It’sallright.”
Hesniffedherscentandpausedagain.Hislongearsturnedforward.Tailswishedthefly.Finally,heclosedhiseyesandtookonelaststep,restinghisgiantheadinherlapwithadeepdonkeysigh.Meghan’shandcameupandgentlystrokedhisfaceandears.Shescratchedhisneckandwhisperedsoftlytohim.Hislowerlipsaggedsleepily
asherelaxedforthefirsttimesincehisarrival.Thedonkeyandgirlstayedjustsoforalongwhile,hisheadheavyonherlegsasshecaressedhimandgentlyuntangledhisscragglymane.
IwasinthekitchenwhenMeghancameburstingthroughthedoor.“OhMomma!He’ssweet!”sheexclaimedasshedescribed
thequietmomentsinthebarn.Shefinishedwithabreathless,“Canwekeephim,pleeze??”
Dryingmyhandsonatowel,Ilookedatherpleadingexpression.Ishouldhaveknownthiswascoming.Herewego.Don’tyoustartbeggingforadonkey.Sweetornot,weknewhehadtobelongtosomeone.Surely.I
mean,howcanapersonmisplaceadonkey,forheaven’ssake?Hisownersmustbelookingforhim.
“Meggie,youcan’tletyourselfgetattachedtohim.Youknowhe’snotgoingtobeherelong.”Ismoothedthedisappointmentfromherforeheadandcontinued.“He’sgoingtobeonhiswayjustassoonaswefindout
wherehebelongs,andIdon’twantyoutogetyourheartbrokenwhenheleaves.”
“Butwhatifnobodyclaimshim?”sheappealed.“Thencanwekeephim?”
“Honey,Idon’tthinkweare‘donkeypeople.’Wedon’tknowthefirstthingaboutthem.Wecertainlydon’thaveanyuseforone.Andbesides,Ithinkyou’re
gettingaheadofyourself.Weneedtodowhatwecantofindhishomebeforewestartmakinganyplans.”Butinmymind,I’dalreadybeenwonderingthesamething.
Justthen,weheardnoisefromoutside,nearthepasturegate.WehurriedtoseewhatthefusswasaboutandfoundouryellowLab,Beau,wagginghisentirebodyashe
barkedandwhinedinexcitement.Anewfriend!Hecouldhardlycontainhisjoy.Thedonkey,whohadleftthebarnandventuredtowardthehouse,lookedupinsurprise.
“Beauisanxioustosayhello,”GraysonsaidashecamefromaroundthecornerandattemptedtograbBeau’scollartocalmhim.Buttheone-hundred-pounddoghad
alreadysqueezedhisslobberyselfunderthegateandlopedacrosstheopenspacetowherethedonkeystood,frozeninalarm.Beau’sheftytailworkedfromsidetosideasheapproachedthedonkeywithshamelesscuriosityandwigglywelcome.
Forasplitsecondthedonkeyheldstill,takinghimin.Then,likeaboltof
lightning,hewhirledaroundandstruckoutwithhisbacklefthoof.Yelpinginshock,Beaucametoanabruptskidonhishaunches.Thedonkeyturnedandloweredhishead,breathingheavily,whileBeaubackedupandletoutawhimper.Thetwolockedeyesastheycircledoneanother.Donkey:earsflat,headlow,nostrilsflared.
Dog:earsforward,hairraised,nosetwitching.ThehoofhadmissedBeau’schest,butthemessageitdeliveredwasclear:Stayaway.Rebuffed,thedogfinallyreturnedtothegate,lookingoverhisshoulderwithhistailtuckedandeyesfilledwithconfusion.Poor
Beau.He’dneverbeenrejectedsosoundlyinhiswholelife!
“Beauneedstolearntoslowdownalittle,”Isaidaswehuddledoverthedogtocomforthim.Ilookedbacktoseethedonkey,stillbreathinghardandagitated.“Hescaredthepoorguyhalftodeathwithallthatenergy!”Toomuch,toosoon.
Thatweek,wewentintoaction.Wepostedsigns,contactedauthorities,andcheckedwithlocalfeedstores.Welookedforthedonkey’sownerhighandlow.Butnooneseemedtobemissingadonkey.Itwaslike
heappearedoutofthinair.Ontoourproperty.Likearabbitoutofahat.
Whenthecountysheriffstoppedbyourhouse,welearnedthatoursituationwasfarfromunique:Peoplesimplyabandonedtheirdonkeysalongcountryroadswhentheytiredofcaringforthem,giventhattheanimalshavelifespansofthirtyor
fortyyears.Droughtsalwaysbringhighnumbersofstrays,andwewereinthemiddleofabadone.Manypeoplecan’taffordtokeepthesecute-but-grass-consuminganimalswhocompeteforgrazinglandwithcattle,sotheydumpthemoff.Withoutsomuchasasecondthought.
“Yep,noveltywearsoffrealquick,”thesheriffsaidinhisTexasdrawl.“Yaseealottasadcasesouthere.”Headjustedhiswide-brimmedhatandlookedatthedonkey.“Now,thisfellahereisyoung.He’snotevenamaturemale,ifyouknowwhatImean.”Heclearedhisthroataswedigestedthemeaningof“maturemale”
andglancedunderneathhis
thinbellytoseewhatthesheriffwastalkingabout.Aah,yes.
Thelawman’sthickmustachetwitchedashecontinued.“It’sprettytypicaltoseemalesletlooselikethis.Youdon’tseethefemalesasoftenbecausethey’rebetteratkeepingcoyotesawayfromcattleandgoats,butthesejacks...
well,Ican’tevengetfivedollarsfor’ematauction.Nobodywants’em.Basically,they’reworthlessanimals.”
“Butwhathappenstothemifnoonetakesthemfromyourauction?”Iasked,notwantingtoknowtheanswer.
Hepausedforamoment.“Wetrytofindarescueorganizationthatwilltake
’em.Therearesomereputableonesaround,andtheydoagoodjobtakingtheseguysoffourhands.Problemis,rightnow,they’refilledupovertheircapacity,andit’stoughtoplacethesenewstrays.Yahatetothinkwhatcouldhappen,buttherealityisthestatecan’taffordtokeepfeeding’emindefinitely.”
Thedonkey’searstwitchedtowardus,asifeavesdroppingonthediscussionofhisfate.
Horrifiedthathemighthaveoverheard,IlookedatTomforsupportandsuggested,“Howaboutifwejustkeephimhereuntilhisownerscontactyouroffice?”Tomnoddedinagreement,andthesheriffbeamed.
“Soundsgood.Realgood.Now,I’vegotthreeotherjacksinmycustody...”Hetrailedoff,bushyeyebrowsraisedinanunspokenquestion.
Tomhurriedlythankedhimforhistimeandsaidwe’dlookforwardtohiscall.Wepartedwaysbeforethiswholerescuethinggotevenmoreoutofhand.
Theweeksstretchedon,andLauren,ouroldestredhead,camehomefromcollegetofinishplanningherweddingtoRobert.Itwasjustacoupleofmonthsaway,andwehadsomeworktodoinordertopullitoff.Withthefiveofusalltogether,wefeltlikeacompletecircleonceagain,a
littlefamilystayingafloatonaswiftriverofpaintingprojectsanddressfittings.Somehowwelimpedthroughthefinancialdisasterthathadloomedthenightthedonkeyshowedup,andweweremanagingtobarter,trade,and“doityourself”throughtheweddingdetails.Ourproblemswerefarfrom
solved,butwedidourbesttopretendtheydidn’texist.Atleastfornow.
Awarmstillnesshungintheairaswegatheredatthefencetolookatthiswounded,andapparentlyworthless,straywhohadgivenrescuesuchafight.Hissoreshadnotyethealed,buthelookedremarkablygoodinspiteofthetwopermanentscars
acrosshisnose.Alreadyhisthinstomachwasfillingout,andhispatchyhair,withoutalltheburrsandscabs,feltsoftunderourtouch.
Therehadbeennoresponsewhatsoevertooursearchforhisowner,andweknewadecisionneededtobemade.Wecouldturnhimovertothecountyandsomeunknownfuture,orwecould
provideahomeforhim,atleastfornow.Obviously,thethreekidsandIwouldlaunchanall-outcampaigntokeephim.
“Lookathimoutthere.Heisprettysweet,”wepointedout.Henibbleddaintilyonthegreenbladesofgrassandswattedflies
withthatfunnytailofhis.Heseemed...perfectlyinnocuous.Charming,even.
Tomwashavingnoneofthis“permanence”thing,anditseemedhehadBeauonhisside.“I’veseenthedarksideofhim,”herebutted,rememberingthatfirstnight.“He’simpossibletohandle,andhe’sstubbornandobviouslynotverybright.
AndBeauhateshim—don’tyou,Beau?”Atthat,thedonkeylookedupandgaveasnort.Heshookhislongearssotheyflappedtogetherinakindofear-clapasifhewerereplying,“Hey,now!Iheardthat.”
Beaubarkedinreturn.Hedidn’texactlyhatethedonkeyaftertheirfirstencounter.However,the
donkeyseemedtohatehim.Theyweren’tanyclosertofriendship,andinfact,theyappearedtobeinananimalstandoff.ButIhadfaith.Afterall,noonecanhateagoodyellowLab.Andwhocouldresistsuchanadorabledonkey?Iwassuretheyjustneededtimetobond.PerhapsBeaucouldlearntobelessextroverted,givingthe
donkeyachancetoseebeyondtheteethandtailtothewarmheartthatwasjustabitovereager.Theirrelationshipwouldtakesomework.
Thekidspickedupthelobbying.“Dad,weGoogled‘donkeycare’andfoundoutthatdonkeysareprettylowmaintenance.Theydon’tneedexpensivefood,they
don’trequireextraspecialcare,andalltheyreallyneedisshelterinbadweather.Whichwealreadyhave.”Theypointedtothebarn,unusedexceptforstorage.
“Yeah,well,I’mprettysureit’snotassimpleasthat.Itneveris.Ithinkalittlemoreresearchisinorder,guys.Wejustdon’tneedanothermouthtofeed,”Tom
volleyed,mindfulofourprecariousbankbalance.“Thinkofthevetbillsandhay.Imean,lookathimoutthere.He’sapig.He’sgoingtorequirealotoffoodattheratehe’sgoing.”Thenhepulledoutthereasoningeveryparentgivestoeverychildatsomepointintheirlives:“Youkidscan’tremembertofeedthedog,
muchlessadonkey,sodon’texpectmetotakecareofhimforyou.We’renotkeepinghim,period.”
Tomdidhaveapointaboutnotrememberingtofeedthedog;theycouldn’targuethat.Butofcoursetheyinsistedthatthiswouldbecompletelydifferent.Despitehistoughtalk,I’dseenTomouttheretryingtobefriend
thescruffydonkeywhenhethoughtnoonewaslooking.Dayafterday,hesatonacampchairinthemiddleofthepastureforlongperiodsoftime.Hebroughtabooktoread,orwatchedthebirds,orlookedatsomeimaginarypointinthedistance,inhopesthatthedonkeywouldsimplybecomecomfortableinhispresence.ItwasasifTom
instinctivelyknew(unlikeBeau)toleavethepaceoftrustuptothedonkey.
Atfirst,thedonkeyhadgiventhemaninthechairawideberth,grazinginaperimeterfarbeyondhisreach.HeshiedbackfromanysuddenmovementofTom’sarms.Everynowand
thenhe’dlookoveratTom,allthewhilechewing,takinghimin,assessing.
Hadthedonkeybeenmistreatedatthehandsofamaninpreviousencounters?Ifonlyhecouldtellus.Icouldseethatthedonkey’sresistancetoourrescuehadbeenrootedinsomekindof
fear,anditbrokemyhearttothinkthatsomeonecouldhurtsuchasweetanimal.
Gradually,thedonkey’sself-designatedperimeteraroundTom’schairgrewsmaller.Heinchednearer.Andoneafternoon,asTomreadhisbook,heheardthegrassrustlebehindhim.He
feltanoseonhisshoulder.Asniffonhisneck.Lipsgentlynibblinghiscollar.
“Hey,DonkeyBoy.”Tom’svoicewassoft,calm.“That’sagoodboy.That’sagoodboy.”
Heslowlyliftedhishandandcuppedthedonkey’shead.Thewallbegantocrumble.
Braveenoughnowtocomenearforacarrotandgentlepetting,hestillseemedsovulnerable.Andwasitme,ordidhissoftbrowneyesseemslightlyhopeful?PerhapsIwasprojecting.
“Whatdotheneighborsthinkabouthisbraying?”Laurenasked,breakingatwigoffthetreebythefence.“Iactuallyheardhimfromway
downtheroadtheotherday!Soundedlikesomeonewasbeingkilledoverhere.”
Rightoncue,thedonkeyliftedhisheadandbeganheavinghissides.Hislipspulledbacktorevealabigsetofteethasafoghorn-likesoundexplodedfromhismouth.HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw,haw,haw.Isupposeitcouldbedisturbing
ifyouweren’tusedtoit,butintruth,IlovedhearinghisbraybecauseitremindedmeofgrowingupinMexicoasamissionarykid.We’dlivedthereoffandonduringmygrowing-upyears.Burroswereeverywhere,carryingloadsofsticks,pullingcarts,andposingintheircolorful,fringedhalterswithtourists.Ithoughttheyweresuch
beautifulcreatures,andI’dtrytoimitatetheirbraysaswedrovepast,stickingmyheadoutthecarwindowandlettingoutaHEE-haw!inwhatIthoughtwasafriendlyoverture.Notoneofthemeverseemedremotelyimpressed,butthatdidn’tkeepmefromtrying.
Asthedonkey’sbraysubsided,weconsideredtheprosandconsofkeepinghim.
“Weprobablywouldn’tridehim,likewewouldarealhorse,wouldwe?”askedGrayson.
“Iguessyoucould,butitseemslikeitwouldbeareallyslowride,”Tom
replied.“Plus,we’dhavetotrainhim,andwedon’tknowanythingaboutthat.”
True,true.Nodsallaround.
“Whatifweputhimtoworkaroundhere?”Meghanoffered.“Wecouldplantabiggarden,andhecouldpullaplow.”
Wethoughtaboutthatforaminute.
“Nah.Thatwouldneverhappen.”
“Toobadwedon’thaveamine,”Ilaughed.“Hecouldhaulwagonloadsofgold,andwecouldallberich.”
Ourchucklessubsided,andIcouldseethatTomwasjustonegoodreasonawayfromlettinghimstay.Think,family,think.
“Well,he’sfuntolookat,”saidGrayson,glancingupathisdad.
“Yes!Yes,heis!”wechimedin.“Veryfuntolookat!Andnicetotalkabout!”
“Youmeanhe’saconversationpiece?”Tom’svoicehadsoftenedwithhissmileatthethought.
“Yeah,likewhatifwehadsomeweirdrelativesfromthecityover,andwedidn’thaveanythingtotalkabout?Wecouldalwaysjustbringthemoutheretoseethedonkey,andthey’dprobablyloveit.”Graysonwasmakingasolidcasehere.Justneededonefinalpush...
“Ibetwecouldgettenminutesofconversationoutofit,”Laurensaidinsupport.“Possiblyfifteen.Peoplewouldfindhimreallyinteresting.”FourpairsofeyesturnedtowardTomwithlaser-likefocus.
“Ah,excellentpoint.Iguessyoucouldsayhemakesgoodyardart,”Tomconcededasheopenedthe
gateandsteppedclosetothedonkey.Stillmovingslowlyaroundhim,Tomreachedforwardtorubtheinsidesofhisears.IfeltinmypocketforthecarrotslicethatI’dbroughtfromthekitchen.
“Listen,youguys.”Hetookabreath.“Wecankeephimif...”
Thecheersfromthegroupnearlydrownedtheprovisionaladdendumhewasabouttotackon.
“Ahem!”Tomregainedourattentionbyquashingourcongratulatorynoisewithhishandmotions.“AsIwassaying,wecankeephim...ifheisindeedaslowmaintenanceasyousayhewillbe,ifhedoesnoteattoo
much,andifheisanupstandingcitizenaroundhere.”
Simple!Pieceofcake!We’vegotthis!Wewentbacktocheering,andnaturally,ourexuberancespookedthedonkeyinquestion.Withatossofhishead,andhindlegsbucking,hespunaroundandtrottedforthefarcornerofthepasture,
butnotbeforesnatchingthecarrotfrommyhandinagreedychomp.
Beaubarkedhisoppositiontothearrangement,possiblythelastvoiceofreason.
SomethingtoldmethiswasnotgoingtobeassimpleasIthought.
Thedonkey’stemporarycitizenshipgavebothTomandmeamentalreprievefromourworries.Andithelpedmeavoidthefeelingofdefeatthathadsettledinmystomach,likeawadofcookiedough,whichisalwaysahugemistaketoeatinthefirstplace.Watchingournewresidentbecomefamiliarwithhishome,and
learntotrustusintheprocess,providedareliefvalve,nottomentionafavoritetopicofdinnerconversation.
“Hey,haveyounoticedhowthedonkeycanreachalmosteverypartofhisbodywithhisteeth,toscratchwhereverheitches?Passthebutter,please.”
“Iknow!Isawhimreachunderneathhistailtoday.Hebentcompletelyinhalf,backward,flippeduphistail,andstartedscratchingit!Rolls,anyone?”
“Seriously,Ithinkheisdouble-jointedorsomething.Morespaghetti,thankyou.”
Wequicklylearnedtowatchhisvelvetyears,whichmovedconstantly.Pricked
forwardshowedhisinterestandinquisitivenature.Facingbackwardmeanthewasafraid,uncertain,displeased.Oneforwardandoneback...well,itcalledforinterpretation,especiallywhenaccompaniedbyahoofstomportailswish.Hisearswereakeypartofhis
communication—asilentformofexpressionthatdelightedus.
Webegantoeducateourselvesaboutdonkeycare:whatkindofdietwasbest,howtogroomhim,howtocareforhishooves,whichvaccineshe’dneed.Ourpasture,labeled“unimproved”bythecounty,wasperfectforthisanimal
whowasmadeforariddesertlife.Thetoughnativegrassesinoursix-acrepasture,bakedbytheTexassunandblownbyincessantwinds,wouldprovideenoughnutritionalroughagewithoutbeingtoorich.Thebacksectionofthefencedareaincludedwoodsthathecoulduseforshadeandforaging.Hewouldneedlittlesupplementalfeed,
exceptperhapsinwintermonths,orinthepeakofsummerscorchers,whengrasswitheredtobrowndust.Therewasmoretolearnthanwethought,butthedonkey’sgentletemperamentinvitedourattentionandaffection.
Sincehehadworkedhiswayintoourbarnandourhearts,weknewitwastimetogivehimarealname.In
ourfamily’shistory,we’dceremoniouslychristenedasuccessionofpets:Checkers,thespringerspanielwithbrownandwhitemarkings;ButtonsandTwix,handsomecatbrothers;Wilson,theparakeetwerescuedwhenwefoundhimbouncingacrossthestreetlikeatennisball.AndtherewasAngel,thered-tailedhawkTomoncehad
whenhepracticedfalconry.Eventhegerbilsandfishhadfancynamesbestoweduponthemduringtheirbrieflivesinourcare.
Thechallengehadalwaysbeentofindamonikerthatwouldfiteachanimal’spersonality,yetwouldn’tcauseembarrassmentifwehadtoyellthenameinpublic.Overtheyears,Tom,
onthegroundsofhismanhood,vetoedcutesynameslike“Schmoozy,”“Fluffy,”and“Snookums”forourfamilymenagerie,andweagreeditwasareasonableenoughguidelinetofollow.Youshouldn’tmakeaguywho’smostcomfortableincamouflagehaveapetwhosenamesuggestsitshouldbecarriedinsideapinkpurse.
“Sowhatdoyouthinkweshouldcallhim?”IaskedTom,whosereflectionIcaughtinthemirrorwhileIdiddoubleduty—brushingmyteethandinspectingthecrow’s-feetaroundmyeyes.“Shouldwegowithsomethingcomicalsinceheis,afterall,adonkeyforcryingoutloud?Orshouldwefindsomethingsortof
stately?”Wehadneverhadmuchtroubledecidingwithourotherpets,butforwhateverreason,thiswasquitethedilemma.
Tomsatonthebedandputonhisworkshoes.“Nottoconfusethings,butsinceweliveinTexas,there’salsoanabundanceofSpanishnameswecouldconsider.”
“That’strue!”HeknewhowmuchIlovedthoseburrosfrommychildhood.Thiswasgettingmorecomplicatedbytheminute.
Wespentsometimetossingaroundvariousideasbutdecidedtokeepthinkingaswewentonwithourday.
Whileuponscaffolding,wemovedontothesilly:Brae,Harry,Eeyore.
“Havingadonkeyisfun,buthe’snotsomethingIwanttomakefunof,”Tomobjected,dippinghisbrushintobluepaintandwipingtheexcessontherimofthecan.Wecrossedthosenamesoffourlist.
Thebusinessofnaminghimcameupatallhoursoftheday.Intheevening,overamassofopenBride
magazinesandpopcorn,thegirlssuggestedsomethingmoreserious,moredignified.“WhataboutJefferson,orWinston?Henry?Roosevelt?”Better,butstillnotright.
Maybesomebiblicalinspiration?Atbedtime,weconsideredBalaam;Ichabod;andJonah,Micah,andalltheotherminorprophets.
Nomatterwhatwetried,nothingseemedtofit.HewastheNamelessBrayingOneofthePasture,anditbotheredus.Theweeksdriftedbywithnosolution.
“Wecan’tjustkeepcallinghim‘DonkeyBoy,’”IsaidasTomandIunloadedladdersintothebarnoneafternoon.“Itseemsalittleimpersonal,andjustslightly
likewedon’tcare.”Westoppedtowatchhimmoseyalong,enjoyingthesunshine,hishoovesdraggingfromoneendofthefieldtotheother.
“Iknow.Buttherightnameisimportant.Youdon’twanttomessthatup,evenforadonkeythatwecouldn’tgetfivedollarsfor.”Tomwinkedandthrewanarmovermyshoulder,thenquickly
removeditinthestickyheat.“Youknow,”hereflected,“thatguyisneverinahurry.It’slikehe’sinatimewarp.Hecouldnevergetanywhereinaflash.”
Welookedateachother,andthelightdawned.Flash!Thatwasit!
Flash.Asinaspeedingsuperherowhocomestotherescueofoneindistress.We
chuckledatthethoughtofournewdonkeyinamaskemblazonedwithlightningbolts,stoppingtotakeanapenroutetothwartingacrisis.Yes,itwasperfect.Thekidsapproved.
AssoonasFlashwasnamed,weknewwithoutsayingthathisprobationhadendedandhecouldnowbeconsideredabonafide
memberofthefamily.Wewalkedrightintoit,eyeswideopen.
Here’sapieceofadvicethatcomesfreewiththisbook:Rescuer,beware.Assoonasyounameastrayanimal,it’syours.Forbetterorforworse.Yours,baby.Youneedtothinkaboutthatthenexttimeyoupickupastraykittyandstartcalling
her“Pookie”whileyou’retryingtofindahomeforher.Faceit—Pookieisyours,andshebecameyourstheminuteyoupronouncedthosetwosyllables.
Flashwasoursforkeeps,andwefellinlovewithhim.Heshedhisshaggywinterhair,revealingasmooth,gray-browncoatthatmadehimlookpositivelysleek.
Evenhisearslostmostoftheirwoolandbecamesilkysoft,especiallyattheirbaseneartheknobonthetopofhishead.Helovedhavingtheinsidesoftheselong,tubularappendagesrubbedandlookedforwardtoanyattentionthatcamehisway.
Beinggroomedbecamehisfavoritepastime,andIuseditasabonding
opportunity,talkingtohimasIworkedthebrushoverhisbody.Heseemedinterestedinmychatter,soIfilledhiminonourprojects,kepthimabreastofourfamilyactivities,andtoldhimwhatevercametomymind.Hisearsfollowedmyvoice,turningthiswayandthat,andhe’dnodeverynowandthen,suggestinghisresponse:“Go
on,tellmemore.”Iquicklyrealizedhewastheperfectlistener,thekindwhomakesyoufeelhehasallthetimeintheworldforyourstory.Wheneverthecurrycombcameout,herelaxedintoapuddleofequinebliss.Youcouldalmostseehimsmile.Flash’sshynessslowly
meltedaway,andwebegantoseeglimpsesofanoutgoingpersonality.
Flashmadehimselfathomeatourplace.Ouryellow,1970sbarn-shapedhouse,properlydeemed“gambrelstyle,”satnexttohisnewpastureandgaveusaprimeviewofhisactivities.Hehaditmade:anabundanceofwide-openspaceto
aimlesslywanderunderabigsky,abarnforshelter,andtwoacresofshadywoodstoexplore.
Fouryearsearlier,whenwehadfoundthepropertythroughanadinthepaper,wehadnouseformostofit,excepttostoresuppliesintheemptybarn.Wegladlyabandonedoursuburbanlifeandsetaboutmakingthe
rentedfixer-upperourhome—onadime,ofcourse.ThoughjusttwentymilesoutsideoftheDallasmetroplex,itfeltlikeaworldawayfromthecity.
Thequarter-miledrivewaywoundatopadam,pastapond,andthroughsomewoodsbeforecomingaroundtothehouseinaclearing.The“charming
farmhouse”(asdescribedinthepaper)containedsomestrangefeatures,suchasatoiletcrammedsoclosetothewallthatitrequiredsidesaddlepositioningandasenseofhumortomakeitwork.Butoncewereplacedthecarpetandpaintedtheantiseptic,whitesemigloss
wallsandceilingswithpleasantnewcolors,itfeltlikearealhome.
Thekids’bedroomswerenestledundertheslopingeavesofthebarnlikeroofandhaddormerwindowseats—perfectspotsfordaydreaming,whichweencouraged.Thoughtiny,thekitchenhadplentyoffauxwoodcountertopsandenough
cabinetspaceforallourcookware.AsIwasheddishes,Icouldlookoutthewindowtoanever-changingviewofgrassesandwildflowersinafieldthatslopeddowntoawoodedcreekbed.
Mightyburoaks,redoaks,andcedarsfilledthewoodsandtransformedwiththeseasons,providingan
endlessarrayofbeauty.We’vebeenstarvedforthis.Wesoakeditin.Granted,thesepticsystembackedupregularly,andalmosteveryfixtureneededreplacing.Butthoseweresmallhindrances.Ourfamilycouldbreathehere,andtheeighteenacresoflandthatcamewiththehousewasmorethanwecouldhavehopedfor.It
becameoursanctuaryinthemidstofourtightropewalkoffinancialinsecurity.Wehadnomoney,buttheviewwaspriceless.
Withhiscalmpresencegracingtheproperty,Flashseemedtocompleteournewlifestyle.Itjustfeltrighttohavehaybalesonhandforour“livestock,”tocheckfencesforneededrepairs,and
topetaneagernoseoverthegate.EvenBeauseemedtoresignhimselftosharingouraffectionwithanotheranimal,althoughhemadeapointtobarkatFlashwheneverhecould.
WehadonlyhadFlashforacoupleofmonthswhenourlandlordsstoppedbytovisit.They’djustmovedintoanoldcottagethatwasonthesamepropertywerentedfromthem,whichnowmadeusneighbors.ALouisiana–born-and-bredblondebelle,Bridgettemadeastrikingcontrasttoherhusband,Steve,atall,bearded
Midwesterner.WhereBridgettewasvivaciousandtalkative,Stevewasreservedandquiet.WhileStevefavoredflannelshirtsandjeans,Bridgettealwayslookedasifshe’dsteppedoutofafashionmagazine,herathleticfigureaccentuatedbyslimskirtsandfittedblouses.Bridgettehadpioneeredaprestigiousarchitectural
designfirminDallasandrepresentedeverythingIwasnot:beautiful,educated,confident,successful,worldly,fit,stylish,professional.Iavoidedherasoftenaspossible.Whichwasnoteasy,sincetheynowneighboredus.
BridgetteandStevehadrecentlymarriedandshedtheirfabulouscareersand
chicdowntownDallaslofttostrikeoutontheirownasentrepreneurs.Everythingaboutthemwascool—eventhefacttheyhaddownsizedtothesmallhouseontheproperty.Theydesignedcorporatespacesfromtheirfrontporchbydayandworkedintheirorganicgardenintheevenings.I’m
quitesuretheylovedhummusandknewallaboutfinewines.
Beneaththeshadeofthecedartreesthatlinedthepasture,wechitchattedabouttheweatherandcaughtupontheneighborhoodnews.Justthen,Flashmeandereduptothegate,lookingforanearscratch.
“Haveyoumetournewdonkey?”Iasked,turningtoseeiftheywereimpressed.
“Oh,we’vealreadymadefriendswiththisguy,”Bridgettedrawledasshereachedforward,herexpensivebraceletsclanking.“Idn’thejus’adorable!Wejus’lovehim.”
Wesmiledlikeproudnewparents,pleasedwiththeirprogeny.Yes,Flashwasarealmemberofthefamily.Akeeper.Westartedtogushabouthisemergingqualities,butwhatweheardnextsilencedthewordsonourlips.
“Andguesswhat!”Bridgettecontinued,enthusiasmspilling.“We’ve
givenhimtheperfectname!”Oursmilesfrozeinplace.
Wait.You’vedonewhat?Shepauseddramatically
aswestared,wide-eyedindisbelief.Withaflourish,shewentfortheBigReveal.“Hisnameis...Hay-soos!Youknow,it’saSpaynishname!”Sheclappedherhandstogetherindelight.“Idn’tthatperfect?”
Perfect?No,notintheleast.Jesús,whileacommonnameinSpanish,wouldneverbeusedformydonkey,whoalreadyhadaname:Flash.
“Well,hi,Hay-soos!Howyadoin’?”shegreetedFlashashenosedinformoreaffection.Shepronounced“hi”like“hah,”anditsuddenlygratedonmynerves.Flashclearlydidnot
sharemymisgivingsaboutthisnamebecausehehomedrightinontheattention.
Sopleasedwiththeirexcellentnamingofouranimal,thesewell-meaningneighborsseemedoblivioustoourawkwardprotestthathe’dalreadybeennamedFlash.Byus.Hisowners.The
peoplehebelongsto.Theoneswhoownhim.Yeah.Nope,theyjustkepttalking.
“Hay-soosissoentertaining!Wejustlovegivinghimcarrotsoverthefenceandticklingthosebigol’lipsofhis!”Theylaughed,throwingtheirheadsbackindelight.Butallwecouldhearwas“Hay-soosthis”and
“Hay-soosthat,”andeachtime,webecamemoreannoyed.
Thenerve.Tonamesomeoneelse’spet.Why,I’dneverdreamofgoingovertotheirhouseandpresumingtorenameoneoftheirfancycats.Mybackprickled.
IheardMissSouthernBelle,Bridgette,callingFlashfromherbackyard.“Yoo-hoo!Hah,Hay-soos!Comeheah,darlin!”shecooed.Iclosedmyeyesandclenchedmyteeth.
“Don’tgo,Flash.Don’tgooverthere.Don’tanswertothat!”Isentthoughtwavestoencapsulatemynew
donkeyinaprotectivementalforcefield,willinghimtostayaway.
Butno.Uh-uh.Flashappearedtobecompletelyoverhisinitialshynessashetrottedovertothefence,happyasaclamtorespondtohisalias—especiallyiftherewerecarrotsinvolved.Dayafterday,Iwatchedindisgust
ashesoldhisdignityforahandout.Flash,whereisyourself-respect?
Thiscouldmeanonlyonething:war.Asubtlewar.Ihitchedupmymomjeansandappliedsomelipstick.Ashotofhairspray.Ready.
IdroppedFlash’snameintoeveryconversationwithourneighbors,whetheritfitthecontextornot.
“Niceweatherwe’rehaving!Flashsureisenjoyingit.”Iemphasizedhisnamewithjustalittleedgeandwaitedfortheirresponse,whichnevercame.
“Oh,whatalovelyoutfityou’rewearing.IshouldcallFlashoverheretoadmireit.”
“Ihearthere’sanewmoviecomingout.IsurewishIcouldtakeFlashtosee
it.”Imadeapointof
correctingeverymentionoftheunmentionablenameIheard.But,havingbeenraisedinchurch,Ididitonlyinthenicest,sweetestwaypossible,soastokeepmyChristianwitness.
Bridgettesaid,“IjustloovetoheahHay-soosbray!Hejustmakesmehappy.”
“Oh,Iknow.”Ismiled.“Flashcancertainlymakesomenoise.Flashissosilly.Flashreallylikestohearhimself.”Mystrategyseemedtofallondeafears.
Undaunted,Iemployedanothertactic:IspokedirectlytoFlashhimself.Heobviouslyneededagoodtalking-tosohewouldstoprunningovertoBridgette
everytimeshecalledhimbythatothername.Nothisrealname.Thenamethatsomebodyelsedubbedhim.
Itookmydonkey’sshaggyheadintomyhandsandlookedintohiswarm,browneyes.Heflaredhisnostrilsandgavemeaninnocentlookinreturn.His
muzzlehairspokedinalldirections,givinghimanextraboostofaudaciousness.
“Flash,”Isaid.“Baby,you’vegottostopthisbusinessofrespondingto‘Hay-soos’everytimeyouhearit,whenthatisnotyourname.Youalreadyhaveaname:Flash.It’sFlash,becauseIownyou,andI’mtheonlyonewhohasthe
righttonameyou.Otherpeoplecancallyouanyothernameinthebook,butgetthisstraight:That’snotyourname.Youbelongtome.Youaremine.Therefore,whatevernameI’vegivenyou—that’syourname.”
Isawasparkofunderstandinginhisexpression,soIlethimgo.Butnotwithoutonelastmom
glareandatwo-fingerpointfrommyeyestohisandbackagainthattoldhimImeantbusiness.Iwantedtoseeachangeinhisbehavior,andthatwasthat.Heloweredhisheadandkickedthedirt.Yes,heobviouslyunderstood.
NowifIcouldonlygetoverfeelingintimidatedbyourwildlysuccessfulneighborsandflatouttell
BridgetteandStevetoknockitoff.ButIsomehowcouldn’tbringmyselftoconfrontthem.Ifeltfinewithlight,briefconversationandthinlyveiledhints,butI’dseenBridgette’swebsitewithherimpressivebio,thelistofprestigiousboardssheservedon,andtheglossyphotographsofallherhigh-endcorporatearchitectural
designs...andthewordsjuststuckinmythroat.Mypaint-splatteredworkclothes,theFordExplorerwithfadingpaint,andthepostdatedrentcheckonlyreinforcedthattheywerewayoutofourleague.Ugh.
Intruth,thislittlespatoverFlash’snamehadbroughtupinsecuritiesI’dbeentryingtosquelch.The
changeinourlocationandsceneryhadn’tchangedthefactthatIwascomingupshortonallfrontsandthatmyfailureskeptbubblingover,nomatterhowhardItriedtokeepalidonthem.Therazor-thinedgeofthewill-we-or-won’t-we-make-itpursuitofourartisticdreamsseemedtoamplifymyshortcomings.Beingconfrontedwitha
gorgeouscouplewhoseemedtohaveitallonlymademyflawsallthemoreobvious.
ButIcouldn’tthinkaboutthatnow.Ineededtopaintaprincess-themednurseryforaclient,andIhadn’tquitefiguredouthowIwasgoingtogetitdoneinthetimeI’dallotted.Irushedtosketchthe
designonthewallandquicklylostmyselfinthework.
“Mom,didyouforgettopickmeup?”Grayson’svoiceonmycellphonebroughtmescramblingdownmyladderatthejobsiteandhurryingtothetruckinafitofpanic.Howcoulditbe4:30already?He’dbeenwaitinganhourforme.
“I’llberightthere,Gray.I’msosorry!Iforgotaboutthetime.”HowcouldIhavebeensothoughtless?ItwasGrayson’sfirstdayofmiddleschool;I’dvowedthatonthisdayIwouldstartdoingabetterjobofstayingorganized,andI’dalreadyfailed.
“Stupid,stupid,stupid!”IchidedmyselfasIspedtheseventymilesfromthejobsitetohisschool.“Iamsostupid!”Iarrivedanhourlatertofindhimsittinginthedarkenedschooloffice,asecretarykeepinghimcompanyasthepoorkidwaitedforhisnegligentmomtocome.Happyfirstdayofsixthgrade,son.Mommy
lovesyou.Shejustforgotaboutyou.
Myfailuresasamotherstackeduprelentlessly.IrememberedhowIusedtohaveanicedinneronthetableatadecenttime,andhowIkeptthehousepickedupandtendedourchildren’sneedswithfocusandenergy.Thesedays,keepingourheadsabovewatermeant
puttinginlongworkhours.Loadingladdersandequipmenteachdayexhaustedme,andmyeveninghourswerespentplanningandsketchingupcomingprojects.
Ontheonehand,Ienjoyedtheworkandlovedthecreativity,butIwasadistractedparent,andonewithashorttemper,atbest.I
missedthesimplerdays,whenmygoalsasamotherhadbeenclearandIhadthetimetobeintentionalinmyparenting.Ihatedpullingshirtsfromthebottomoftheclotheshamperandfluffingtheminthedryerwithantistaticsheets,tryingtopassthemoffasclean.Thissystemfoolednobody.Chippingfrozengroundbeef
inthefryingpanwhilemyhungryfamilygnawedonchipsat8:00p.m.demoralizedme.Bedtimedevotionswiththekids?Ha.
“Inadequate.”Idugthewordintomyjournalwithmypen,tearingthepageswiththeforce.Mydistractedness,myinabilitytocompleteatask,myfailuretoseethethingsthatwereimportantto
myhusband—itwasarecurringthemeinourmarriagewhenthingsgottough.
Wearefortunate;ourconflictsarefewandfarbetween.Butwhenwehavethem,itseemstheycenterondifferencesinpriorities,andItakeithard.He’stheplanner,whileIworkoffofahopeandaprayer.He’stheone
whomeasurestothecentimeter,whileIeyeballandguess.Heneedsthingstidy,andIdon’tseethemess.Whenyou’rethe“close-is-good-enough”partnertoa“do-it-right-or-not-at-all”person,it’seasytofeellikethebiggestfailure-wifeofalltime.Itwasn’tTom’sfaultItookthingsthatway....Itwasmine.I’dhearhimmake
asmallrequestfor,say,rememberingtobuytoothpaste,andI’dnaturallyassumeitmeantIwascompletelyinadequateandworthless.
Myfocusgotlost.Igotlost.Yes,theTexaslandscapewasbeautiful,butIcouldn’tseeitanymore.Myto-dolistoverwhelmedme.Everythingclamoredforattention:The
laundryneededsorting;Graysonneededhelpwithascienceproject;ournewclientwaitedonasketch;weedsovertooktheflowerbeds;wewereoutofmilk;theExplorer’senginemadeknockingsounds;hockeypracticestartedinanhour....Iimploded.I’dbeginonetask,onlytobepulledby
another,thenanother,andattheendofthedayhavenothingdone.
ThereweresomemorningswhenIcouldn’tevengetoutofbed,letalonewagewarovermydonkey’sname.
JustthenIheardBridgette’scheerygreetingtoFlashringoutyetagain.Isighed.AndasIpeered
throughthecurtaintoseehimeagerlytrottingtothefencewithhisearswobblingfromsidetoside,somethingstrangehappened.Ifeltawhisper.Okay,maybenotevenawhisper,butsomething.Anudge,athought.
Atickleonmyskin.Snippetsfromaverse
droppedintomyhead:
Ihavecalledyoubyname;youaremine.
Thewordscaughtmeoffguard.WherehadIheardthembefore?IknowI’vereadthemsomewhere.IreachedformyBibleandflippedpages,finallyfindingtheminIsaiah43:1:
Butnow,OJacob,listentotheLORDwhocreatedyou.
OIsrael,theonewhoformedyousays,
“Donotbeafraid,forIhaveransomedyou.
Ihavecalledyoubyname;youaremine.”
Thelettersleapedoffthepage.
“Youaremine.”Deepbreath.Oh.Ihad
notexpectedthis.AsmuchasIbelievedinaGodwhocaredaboutmeandcouldcertainlyspeaktoanyone,atanytime,Iwonderedifthismightbethat“stillsmallvoice”thatpeopletalkedabout.Consumedbymylittlevortex
offailure,I’dbeendoingmoreblamingthanconnectingwithHim.Ijustkeptmuddling,struggling,failing,andrepeating.
Butsomehow,Hewasusingadonkeytoleadmetoasimpletruth.
Howapropos.BecauseIfeltprettymuch
likeadonkey’shindend.IwasnodifferentfromFlash.I
hadanidentitycrisisofmyowngoingon.Somehow,inthebusynessofthekids’activities,work,cooking,payingthebills,andtryingtojuggleitall,I’dstoppedpayingattentiontomyspirituallife.Prayerhadbecomelittlemorethanaccusationsandpleasforhelp,addressedtoaGodsomewhereupthere.Time
spentlisteningforHim,orreadingHisWord,wasnonexistent.Whybother?Focusingonmyself,myproblems,andmysolutions,IhadlettheconnectionwithmyMakergocold.
Isawmyselfasthecenterofmyownuniverse,utterlyinadequateineverything.Droppingalltheballs.Afailureinmyartisticventure.
Aterriblebusinesswoman.Amomwhoforgottopickupherkidatschool.Alone,eveninthemiddleofabeautifulfamily.Lost,inthemidstofanewcountrylife.Alwaysbehind,foreverfloundering.Afraidofbeingdiscoveredasafraud.WhoamIkidding?I’mnobody.Ilistenedtothewhispersthatcalledintoquestionmyvalue—value
thatwasbasedonmyperformanceinsteadofthemagnificentgracepouredoutonmefromtheheartofalovingheavenlyFather.
TheOnewhoseIam.TheOnewhonamedme.
I’dforgottenjustwhoIbelongedto,andthatmyFatherhadgivenmeaname—infact,manynames—thatexpressedHisloveforme.In
thatmoment,GodremindedmethatmyvaluecomesfrommyrelationshipwithHim,andnotmy“success”asamom,orasawife,orasafriend,orasabusinessperson.
Igrabbedasmallspiralnotebookandwrote,
Rememberyourname.
BelowitIputthesewords:
Knowwhoyoubelongto.
ThenIrealizedthat,likeagoodTexanwithpoorgrammar,somethingaboutthatsentencewasn’tright.We’dsayit,“Knowwhoyabelongta.”SoIscribbleditoutandcarefullyprinted,
Knowwhoseyouare.
Knowwhoseyouare.Ipausedandlookedoutthewindow.MyidentityreallystartsandendswiththeOnewhocreatedme.ThereisabeautifulpoeminPsalm139thatsaysHeknitustogetherinthewombandknowsourinnermostparts.HecreatedusinHisimageandthensat
backandsaid,“Itisgood.”Blinkinghard,Irealizedsomething:Goddoesn’tmakemistakes.Hecreatedmetobeuniquelyme,andIhadsimplyforgottenwhoseIwas.Ihadbeenoperatingfromthewrongowner’smanual.
Ohboy.Asmyownmaster,thenamesIcalledmyself.NamesIrespondedto
assoonasIheardthem.Namesthatweren’tactuallymine.
Failure.Worthless.Inadequate.Afraid.Fraud.Stupid.
IwrotethenamesinmynotebookandcontinuedlistingeverynameIcouldthinkofthatIcalledmyself.Intheend,Ihadaprettylongandpatheticlist.OnsomanylevelsIhadbeatmyselfupinmy“self-talk.”ForgettingwhoIbelongedtohadcreatedanopenseasonforblastingawayatmyself.AndIsuddenlyrealizedthatI’dlet
myveryidentitybeformedbythenamesIcalledmyself,becauseIhadconfusedwhatIdowithwhoIam.Isawmyselfthroughadistortedprism.AllIhadtodowasthinkbacktomylastlowmoment,andbingo—Icouldhearmyselfsaying,“Hello,MyNameIs_______________.”JustasifIwerewearingitonaname
tag.
Hello,MyNameIs___________________________:Afraid:I’mparalyzedbyfearofrejectionandfailure.Alone:Nooneunderstandsme.Unloved:IfGodlovedme,howcouldHeallowthis?
Unlovable:I’mobviouslynot
Unlovable:I’mobviouslynotworthloving.Lost:Iwillneverfindmyway.Unworthy:IcannotacceptloveandaffirmationbecauseI’msuchaloser.Failure:Um,obvious.Sinner:Ikeepcommittingthesamestupidsinsoverandoveragain.
Damaged:Mywoundsaretoo
Damaged:Mywoundsaretoodeeptoheal.Ugly:GodusedallHisbeststuffonthecheerleadersandgavemetheleftovers.Defeated:Whyeventry?Stupid:Iamconstantlymakingdumbmistakes.Fake:OnedayeveryonewillfindoutI’mnotwhotheythinkIam.
Inadequate:Icannotmeasure
Inadequate:IcannotmeasureuptothewomanIshouldbeforthepeopleIlove.Nobody:Idon’tmatter.
Thatafternoon,ithitme.AsachildofGod,IbelongtoHim.Hemademe.Heownsme.IamHis.
This.Changes.Everything.
Godseesmethroughthelensofeternity,throughgraceandthroughthemercythatmakesallthingsnew.Complete.Perfect.MyidentityisinHim.OnlyHehastherighttonameme.Asamatteroffact,onlyHehastherighttonameyou.
MyheartbeatalittlefasterasIwrotedownthenamesHehadgivenme.
Later,IfollowedeachwithaScripturereference,butatthetime,justseeingthelistofnamesoverwhelmedme.Ipicturedeachwordasanametag.
Hello,MyNameIs________________________.BraveUnderstoodLoved
PreciousFoundWorthySuccessfulForgivenWholeBeautifulAbleWiseGenuineEnoughAdaughter
Settingthenotebookaside,Ilacedupmytennisshoesandmademywaytothebackwoods,whereFlashlikedtopasstheafternoonsintheshadeofthetalloaks.Atthesoundofmycall,hishoovesrustledtowardmethroughtheunderbrush.
“Flash!Hey,buddy.”Hecametoastandstillinfrontofmeandloweredhisheadto
sniffmyshirtandrubhisforeheadonmystomach.Whatadifferencefromthescareddonkeyhe’dbeenjustweeksago.Perhapsownershiphadchangedhimaswell.Heseemedeagerforagood,all-overscratching,andIcouldn’tresistgivinghimoneasIcontinuedtoponder.
Ifyou’veeverhadaparadigmshift,canyourelatetohowitfeelslikegiantbouldersaremovingfromonesideofyourbraintoanother?Itiltedmyheadtohastentheprocess,andI’mnotsureithelped,butIstillcouldn’tdenythatsomethingbighadhappened.Somethingsolidified.
IbelongtoGod.IamHis.MyidentityisinHim.Hehasgivenmeanewname.IamnotwhatIdo.Myvaluedoesn’tcomefrommysuccessesormyfailures.WhatIdocomesfromwhoIam,nottheotherwayaround.
Myvalueisinherent,not
Myvalueisinherent,notearned.
No,Ididn’thearanypealsofthunderorangelchoirssinging,andnotrumpetsblaredtoannouncea“HearYe,HearYe”truthtomyhurtingheart.Therewasjustthisfunny-lookingburrowhohadlandedonourdoorsteplateonenight.And
thereinthebackwoods,whilescratchingadonkey’sears,Ilearnedanincrediblething:Godcanuseanything,atanytime,inanyway,tospeaktome.
Fortunately,Hewasfarfromfinished.
Rememberyourname.Knowwhoseyouare.
Ifyou’reapersonwholikescertainty,thencomeondowntoTexasinJuly.Youarecertaintoexperiencesearingtemperaturesthattoponehundreddegreeseachandeveryday.Youcandependonwideblueskies,punctuatedbypuffywhitecloudsthatofferonlyfleetingmomentsofshadebeforeleavingyoutobakeonce
againundertheblisteringsun.Mostassuredly,you’llrunfromair-conditionedbuildingstoair-conditionedcarstoair-conditionedbuildings,clutchingasweaterforthechillyindoorclimateswhileperspiringprofuselyinbetweenentries.You’llsuddenlyunderstandSoutherners’deepaffectionforsweetteaandlemonade
andrealizethatcowboyhatsaren’tonlyaniconoftheWest,butawayofavoidingsunburnednecksandfaces.
LaurenandRoberthadpickedJulyfortheirweddingbutalsohadthesensetogethitchedinsideachurchwithpowerfulairconditioners.Thefrostingonthecakeheldtight,whichwasmorethanIcouldsayformyhairthat
droopedlikemeltedganache.Butthat’sonlyasmallfootnoteonawondrousevent;despitetheheat,itwasapicture-perfectwedding.
Texassummersseemtostretchendlessly,thehotwindblastingacrosstheprairiesandwitheringallbutthehardiestofvegetation.Dayafterswelteringday,thoseofuswholiveherefind
ourselvesyearningforthatfirstcoolbreezethattellsusautumnisonitswaywiththenorthernjetstream.
Nowautumn,asfarasseasonsgo,isarealguessinggame.Youneverknowifyou’regoingtogetgorgeousfallcolorsonthetrees,oriftheleaveswillsimplyturnbrownandfalloff.I’vebeentoldithassomethingtodo
withtheamountofrainduringtheyear,butreally,it’sallconjecture.Noonereallyknows.We’reallhappytohavesurvivedtheheat,sovibrantleafcolorismerelyabonus,likehavinggravyonyourchicken-friedsteak.Don’tevengetmestartedonwinterweather.
Butsinceyoubroughtitup,let’sjustsayTexaswintersarecrazy.Theybringhugefluctuationsinweatherpatterns,resultingintheobvious:anextremedependenceonhairproducts.EverywomaninTexaslivesinastateofperpetualpreparedness.Wordtothewise:Ifyouknowwhat’sgoodforyou,donotget
betweenmeandmycanofsuperholdhairspray.AdayinJanuarymightbesunnyandseventy-fivedegrees,andthenextdaywilllikelybringfreezingtemperaturesandbitingwindsthatcanknockthebreathrightoutofyou...andreduceyourcarefullycoifed“hair-do”toalimp“hair-was.”Inseconds.Buthairproblems
notwithstanding,IsecretlyenjoytheschizophrenicwintersbecauseIlikewakinguptosurprises.Especiallyonesthatbringflip-flop–wearingsunshineandachancetowearshortsinmidwinter.
Withsuchextremes,itwasnecessarytohaveasuitableshelterforFlash,andourthree-sidedbarnmadea
perfecthome.Hecouldgoinandoutashepleased,findingwelcomeshadeforloafingonasummerdayandprotectionfromtheunpredictablewind,rain,andsleetduringothertimesoftheyear.
“Flashstillprefersthewoods,”Tomobserved.“Ithinkhelikestokeephisoptionsopen.”Nonetheless,underFlash’swatchfuleyes,
Tominstalledahayrackandwaterbucketinthebarn,shoredupthepartition,andhunglightingsowecouldseeatnight.TheseimprovementsreceivedFlash’sstampofapproval,withthehayrackbeinghismostcherishedfeatureofall.Youwouldhavethoughthishaywasbeingserveduponfinechina,asheeagerlypulleditfrom
thesturdymetalstructure,onemouthfulatatime.Itwasfinedining,donkeystyle.Whennoteatingorcombingthefloorforanydroppedbitsofhay,Flash’sfavoriteplacetostationhimselfwashalfinandhalfoutofthestallopening.Backendprotected,frontendoutwherehecouldseewhatwasgoingon.Withsoftwoodshavingsonthedirt
floor,Flashhadacomfyspotfordozing.Prettynicedigsforaonce-homelessfellow,anditfeltgoodtoseehimenjoythespace.
Astheseasonschanged,Flashhimselfseemedtotransformwiththem.Hissleek,summeryhairwasagainreplacedbyathick,furrycoatthatmadehimappearfuzzyandchunky—
alookthatwasendearingonhim.Thehaironhisforeheadanddownhisnosecurledinalldirections,givinghimakindofplump,teddybearcharm,andthecreamywhitehaironhischestandbellyfeltassoftasvelvetandtwiceasdeep.EverytimeIsawhim,Ijustwantedtosqueezehim,soIusuallydid.
Flashwasgettingaccustomedtomyburstsofaffection,andthoughhepretendedtosimplytoleratethem,Inoticedhe’dstartedtocomerunningwhenIcalled.However,assoonashegotnearme,he’dpullupandactlikehejust“happened”tobepassingby.“Oh,youwanttohugme?Well,ifyoumust,Iguessit’sokay,”Flash’s
demeanorintimated,barelyhidinghisdelight.Perhapsinhispreviouslifehe’dbeendisappointedsooftenthathedidn’twanttoappeartooeager.
Nonchalance,asI’dfoundinmyownexperience,isaneffectivedefensemechanism.Seeingitlingerinhimtouchedme,andIsqueezedhimalittlemoretightly
becauseofit.Andsincewinterhadarrived,Ithrewinanextrahandfulofhay,which,incontrast,hereceivedwithjoyoussnortsandnickers.Nottheslightestbitofindifferencetobefound.
Februaryarrived,bringingaweekofdelightfullywarmweather.Outcametheshortsandsandals.Ofcourse,itwas
immediatelyfollowedbyarecord-breakingcoldfrontdubbed“TheArcticBlast”bylocalmedia.Ithurledinfromthenorthwithfreezingrainthatbroughtourbusylivestoastandstill.ItprobablygoeswithoutsayingthatTexansdon’tfunctionwellinice,butIthoughtI’dgoaheadandmentionit.Thepeltingicestormstartedduringthenight
andcontinuedthroughoutthefollowingday,andallroadswereshutdown.Bridgesandoverpassesbecameslipperydeathtraps.Schoolattendancewasunthinkable.Wesatgluedtoourtelevisionsetlikeweatherzombies.Ajackknifed18-wheeleronI-35?Wemustwatchthis.
Asthetreesandnativegrassesbecameencrustedwithlayeruponlayerofice,theyglitteredeerilylikeascenerecreatedfromaNarnianwinter.Thetemperaturesdroppedfurther,andthesleetkeptcomingasthedeciduoustreesbegantobowundertheweight.Thebranchesofthecedarsaroundthehousewerealsobending
beneaththeloadofice;bynightfalltheynearlytouchedtheground.
Inside,Iturnedonallthelampsandlitscentedcandlestocelebratebeingcozyandsafeandwarmonsuchanunforgivingnight.ThekidswerealreadyintheirpajamasandsatonarugbythefireplacewithBeau,whowasonlytoohappytojointhem
astheystartedamovie.Canceledschoolmeantalate-nighttreatforeveryone,includingthedog.Tom,anatureenthusiast,wasn’tcontenttonestleinthecomfortofourlivingroom.Iwatchedhimdonhisjacketandhat.
“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing,honey?”Iaskedashepulledonthickgloves.I
hadalreadyguessedwhathisresponsewouldbe.
“I’vegottoseehowbaditisoutthere.”
TomalwayssecretlyhopesforaTexasblizzard—notsurprisingforsomeonewhogrewupinMinnesotaandharborsanintensefascinationwithwintryblasts.Mercy,he’dloveagoodsnowstorm.Butshortofa
blizzard—theweathereventofhisdreams—iceisclearlythenextbestthingtosnow.He’dneverforgivehimselfifhemissedit.Momentsafterclosingthedoorbehindhim,hepokedhisnosebackinside.
“Comeoutherewithme,”hecalled.Ihadseenenoughwithoneglimpse—itlooked
awfullycoldandmiserableoutthere.
Ishookmyheadandsankalittledeeperintomyafghanonthecouch.No.I’mgood.Thankyou,though.Seriously,Ifeltquitecomfortableinsidewhereitwasniceandwarm.Myfuzzysocksweredelightful.
“Pleasecome.Iwantyoutoexperiencethis!”heinsisted,hisblueeyesdancing.
Sighing,Isetmybookfacedownonthecushion,gotup,anddutifullyputonaheavycoatandshoes.GraysonandMeghanlookedoninamusement.Theywereaccustomedtotheirfather’sweatherobsessionandhad
alreadysetoutseldom-usedplasticsaucersforhillslidingwithhiminthemorning.Ifollowedhimoutintotheicyevening,andheputhisarmaroundmeaswesteppedacrossthecrunchygrass.
“Rach,you’vegottoseethis!”Tomsaid.Heactsjustlikeakidduringtheseclimaticoccurrences.Ihadtosmile.Despitemyself,I
alwaysgetdrawnintohisexcitementforthesimplethings.
Hewhippedouthishigh-poweredflashlightandaimedthebeamintothetrees.Theyshimmeredinthelight,theirglitterylayersoficeflashingandsparkling.Thebaublesoficethatclungtothecedars
soundedlikeathousandbeadeddressesswayinginthecoldnightbreeze.
Hewasright.Itwasworthcomingoutside.Andtothinkitdidn’tcostapenny.
“Now,”Tomsaid,“behold!”Inagrandgesture,hemovedthebeamoutintothepasture,wherethewintergrassesstoodfrozenintheirwhitecouture.Eachblade,
eachplant,eachstickwasapictureofmagicalperfection,asifcoatedwithglimmeringfairydustagainsttheblacksky.
“Ohhh,”Ibreathed.Itlookedsimplyamazing.Westoodawestruckbythebeautyandsavoreditinthedarknessthatsurroundedus.Tomslowlydirectedtheshaftoflightacrossthesmallfield
andtowardthebarn.Thelighttippedthegrassandshrubsasitmovedalong,ignitingicysparklesinitspath.
Suddenlyadark,shaggylumpappearedinthespotlight.Tombackedupandshonehisflashlightacrossthegraymassagain.Whatintarnation?
Flash!Huddledjustoutsidethebarninthefreezingrain,thedonkeyraisedhisheavyheadandpeeredbackatusquestioningly.“Huh?”heseemedtosay.Hestartedtowardus,andasheneared,wecouldseethathe,too,wascoveredinthickice.OnlyonFlash,theicecoatwasn’tnearlyasglamorousasthe
onewornbythecedars.Crusty,frozendirtballsstucktohislongwinterhair,andamassofmuddyicicleshungfromhismane.Hewasacold,filthymess.
“Flash,whatareyoudoing?”Iscoldedhim.“Whyonearthareyoustandingoutsidethebarnwhenyoushouldbeinsidewhereit’sniceanddry?”I’dcheckedon
himearlierinthedayandmadesureheknewhehadplentyofhayintheopenstall.Ineverimaginedhe’dchoosetobravetheelementsinstead.
Flashpulledupclosetothegateandgavemeapatheticlookthatsaid,“Pleaseletmecomeintoyourcozyhousetogetwarm.”
Well,therewasn’tachanceintheworldthatthatwasgoingtohappen,butbeforeIcouldopenmymouthtosethimstraight,Tomturnedtomeandsaid,“Whydon’tyouheadbackinside?I’mgoingtogivethepoorguysomeoats.”
“He’lljustthinkyou’rerewardinghimforhisignorance,”Icalledafterhim,
buttonoavail.Mymanwasalreadyofftohavemercyonthefrostybeastwhocouldn’tseemtofigureouthowtoescapethesleet.Ishookmyhead.Aww,Flash!You’reawfullycute,butwhere’syourcommonsensetonight?
Tomgaveawhistle,whichhadbecomehissignaturecall,andFlashfollowedacrossthefrozen
pasturetothebarn.Onceinsidetheshelterofthestall,Tomgavehimahandfulofoatsandthenmadeahastytriptothehouseforsomesupplies:towels,blankets...andahairdryer.Backhewenttothebarn,andFlashshivereduncontrollablywhileTompulledtheiceclodsoffhimandblottedhismattedhairwithmygoodbath
towels.Flashwassoakedallthewaytotheskin—anddangerouslycold.Withonehandaroundhisthicknecktoreassurehim,Tomturnedonthenoisyhairdryer.Flashstartledandtriedtobreakfree.
“It’sokay,Flash.We’vegottogetyoudry.”Tombegantoworkhimover,inchbyinch.
Oncehegotusedtothewhirringsound,thedonkeyrelaxedandletthewarmairblowoverhim.GentlyseparatingFlash’shair,Tommassagedtheanimal’sbodywithhisfingers.Flashclearlylovedtheattention,cooperatingfullybyturningthiswayandthatsothatnopartofhimwasmissed.Hechewedslowlyonthehay,
pausingwheneverTomhitaparticularlypleasantspot.Justabovethetail?Ohyes,please.
BythetimeTomfinishedthelengthysalontreatment,Flash’shairfeltsoftandfluffyasitcurledupalonghisbackinshinyringlets.Tomdecidedhewasfinallydry
enoughtodrapewithaheavyblanket(alsooneofmygoodones)andleaveforthenight.
“Feelbetternow,buddy?”Flashgaveadeepsigh
andpressedTom’sjacketsleevewithhiswhitemuzzle.Witheyesclosedandhindfootresting,hewasthepictureofsleepygratitude.
Afteronelastnogginscratch,Tomreturnedtothehouseandshedhisdirtyjacketandhat.Cuppinghishandsunderthehotwater,hestartedtowashupashegavemethereportonournow-fluffed-and-warmeddonkey.
“Ican’tfigureoutwhyhedidn’tgetoutofthesleetthisafternoon,”Tomsaid.“Hecouldhavebeenwarmand
drythiswholetime,butitwaslikehedidn’tknowhowtotakeshelterinthebarnwhenitwasrightinfrontofhim.”
Itookthekettleoffthestovetofillamugwithhotcocoa.“Whatcouldpossiblyhavebeengoingthroughhismind?Ithoughthissenseofself-preservationwouldkeep
himinside.”Itwasamystery.“Anyway,thankyouforgettinghimfixedup.”
“Gladtodoit.”Tomtookthemugfrommyhandsandsatdowninhisrecliner.IwasgratefulhehadtakenituponhimselftomakesureFlashwassafe.ItwasbeyondthekindofcoldIwantedtofacethatnight.Brrrr.Iwentbacktomybook,butawordTom
hadsaidniggledatme.Ithoughtforamoment.Whatwasit?
Shelter.Thatwasit.ItwasthethingFlashhad
neededthemost,andithadbeenavailabletohimfromthemomentthestormhit.Justafewsmallstepswouldhavetakenhimrightinside,andhe’dhavebeensparedthe
dangerousmiseryheexperiencedastheiceandtemperaturesfellthatday.Ipicturedhimashestoodthere,becomingcoatedwithsleet,andyetunable,orunwilling,toseekshelter.Ifeltbothsorryforhimandpuzzledbyhisbehavior.Icouldn’tunderstandit.
Settingthebookdownonceagain,Isuddenlyhadavisionofmyownself—inthedarkestmomentsofmylife—standingoutside,coldandalone,justasFlashhadbeen.Ohsure,therehadbeenmanytimesI’dneededhelpandhadbeencomfortedbytheshelterofGod’spresence.ButtherehadalsobeenjustasmanytimesthatI’dstoodshivering
inlonelymisery.CoulditbepossiblethatinmyownmomentsofdeepestneedIhadbeenjustthatclosetocomfortandnotrealizedit?
Refuge—truerefugeinthefaceoflife’sstruggles—canbefoundonlyinHim.Iknowthat.Sowhywasitthatwhentimesgottoughforus,thefirstthingIwantedtodowasgoshoppingforanew
purse?Andeatsomethingcompletelydecadent,likeamoltendeath-by-chocolatedesserttoppedwithgooeyicecream?It’slikeIwantedtofindcomfortinthemall.Ormorespecifically,thefoodcourtofthemall.Orboth.
SometimesmyrefugedujourwaslosingmyselfonlineinFacebookandTwitter.DoingGooglesearchesfor
red-carpethairstylesorshoppingonAmazon.Inevergotintoalcohol,butIhearitdoesabang-upjobofnumbingpain.I’vegotplentyoflittle“copingtechniques”forstressandstorms,butinrealityallofthemarejustsubstitutesfortruecomfort.Temporaryreliefformydeeperproblems.Theyare
counterfeitsthatseemliketherealthing,butintheend,don’twork.
Iwaslearningthehardwaythatcounterfeitsingeneralcangetyouintotrouble.I’mremindedofthetimenotlongagowhenaninvitationtoaweddingtaughtmethisvaluablelesson.Imadealast-minutestopatthestoreforagiftandsomething
towearbecause,asperusual,Ihadnothingsuitableonhand.Nowrunninglate,Idashedhomeandthrewonmynewoutfit,thenrealizedtheclothesI’dsohurriedlyboughtwouldshowthedreadedpantylines.Yikes.IrummagedlikeamadwomanthroughmydrawersandbasketsformySPANX,the
miracleoutfitfixer,butcouldnotcomeupwithitanywhere.
Nottoworry.Inthedeeprecessesofmymemory,afashiontipI’donceheardsurfaced:Ifyou’reinapinchforabottom-smoother,simplycutthelegsoffofapairofpantyhoseandslidethetoppartonforaperfectsubstitute.
Eureka!Igrabbedsomescissors,
slicedthelegsawayfromanoldpair,andputthemon.Fabulousidea—Iwasset.Andsoproudofmyinnovation.ButperhapsIshouldpointoutthatthetitleofthislittleillustrationshouldbe“ThingsThat
SeemedlikeGreatIdeasattheTimeButDidNotLiveUptoExpectations.”
Themodifiedpantyhoseindeedworkgreatintheory...foraboutthefirsthour.Butaftersometimeelapses,theproblemssetin.
IhadmadeitallthewaythroughtheceremonyandintothereceptionwhenIrealizedthatmyscience
wasn’tassoundasI’dassumed.AsIstooduptogetmorecheesefromtheappetizertable,thecutoffedgesofmyfauxSPANXrolleduptomyderrierelikeCubancigars,creatingavisualdisasterzone.Waytoomuchcheese,myfriends.
Mortified,Istifflymademywaytotheladies’roomforanadjustmentanddecided
tostandfortherestofthereception.Therewouldbenodancingthatday.
Ilearned,viapersonalhumiliation,thatthereisnosubstitutefortheRealThing.
Oh,theBiblehassomuchtosayabouttheRealThing—thetruekindofrefugethatisfoundinitspages.It’soneofthosesubjectsthatmakesmyearsperkupwhenIhearit,
maybebecauseIneeditsooften.Refuge—somethingthatbringscomforttothesoul—isoneofourdeepestneedsashumanbeings.Welongforit.Andwhenyouconsiderwhywedothethingswedo,theneedforrefugefuelsmostoftheactivityintheworld.
Webster’sdictionarydefinesrefugethisway:“protectionorshelter,asfrom
dangerorhardship;asourceofhelp,relief,orcomfortintimesoftrouble.”
Refuge,inapracticalsense,is
Safety:protectionfromoutsideforces,the“stormsoflife”Security:freedomfromfear,whichallowsyoutoflourish
Significance:beingconfident
Significance:beingconfidentinyourplaceintheworld;yourcontributionProvision:havingyourphysical,emotional,andspiritualneedsmetBelonging:knowingyouarepartofsomethingbiggerthanyourself
IthoughtofthetimesI’dexperiencedavaguesenseofuneaseandunsettlednessthatwashardtoputafingeron.Andwhenweariness,likethekindIhadwhenFlashshoweduponourdoorstep,hadsettleddeeplyinmybones.Somethingseemedtobemissing,butwhat?Iwasgoingthroughthemotionsofparentingandworkingand
serving,butIfeltliketherewasaholeinthemiddleofitall.Perhapsitwasthe“significance”factorortheaspectof“belonging”thatIwasn’texperiencing,andinsideIsimplylongedforsomekindofrefuge.
Andthentherewereothertimesinwhichthecircumstancesoflifeweretoopainfultobear,whenthe
vagueuneasebecameabsolutedesperationforcomfort.
Iwasabouttoturnforty,andtwofaintpinklinesonastickfromatestkittoldmeIwaspregnant—tenyearsafterouryoungestchildhadbeenborn,fifteenandseventeenyears
afterourdaughters.Oncethesurprise(andlet’sbehonest,panic)woreoff,excitementsetin.Thiswasthechildwehaddesiredforsolong,hadhopedfor,andhadgivenuponeverhaving.
ItthrilledmethatIwouldgettoexperiencemommyhoodalloveragain!Ilovedthoseyearswithlittleonesandcouldnotbelievewe
weregoingtobeblessedwithafourthbaby.Andbothmysisterandsister-in-lawwereexpectingbabieswithindaysofmyduedate!Whatwerethechancesofthathappening?Wesurprisedmymotherwithback-to-backMother’sDayphonecallstellingherournews.Thewholefamilywaselated.
Andthenourexcitementwascutshort.
“I’msosorry,”thedoctorsaid,tearsfillinghereyesinsympathyasshemovedtheultrasoundwandovermyabdomen.MyheartpoundedoutofmychestasIclutchedTom’shandinthesmallexaminationroom.Wescannedthedarkscreen,desperatetoseeanysignof
movement,buttherewasnothing.Justatiny,lifelessformthathadbeenourbaby.
Justafewweeksbefore,inanefforttobreakupthemonotonyofalong,hotsummerday,IwasmakingaspontaneousruntothevideostorewithGraysonwhenourvehiclewashithead-onbyadistracteddriveronacountryroad.Wefeltluckytowalk
awayfromthewreckunscratched,andIimmediatelywenttothedoctortomakesurethebaby’sheartbeatwasstillthere.Whatarelieftohearit!Butitdidn’tlast.
“Abruptionoftheplacenta,”theycalledit—theresultoftrauma.Insudden
shockandgrief,thefloorfellawayfrommyfeet,theroomspinningaroundus.
Theygiveyoutwenty-fourhourstoabsorbthenewsbeforeinducinglabor.Theytellyoutogohomeandrest,thatitwillallsoonbeover.Theytellyouitis“nature’sway”andthatyou’llbeabletohaveotherbabies,don’tworry.Whattheydon’ttell
youishowhardyou’llcry,orhowaloneyou’llfeel,orthatyourheartwillbreakinamillionpieceswhileyouwait.Theydon’ttellyouthatlabor,whenyouknowattheendofityou’llhavenobabytobringhome,ishorrific.Theydon’ttellyouthatwhenyourmilkcomesinandthereisnobabytonurse,you’llsitinthe
showerandsobuntilyoucan’tsobanymore.Theydon’ttellyouanyofthat.
Butthen,nothingcanprepareyouforthiskindofdisappointment,thismuchheartache.
TomandIgottoseeourlittleboyinthedeliveryroom.WenamedhimCollin,andhewasbeautiful.Soutterlyperfect.Therewasa
smallfuneralandatinycasketunderanawningintherain...andsomanyquestions.IwishedGodhadleftuswellenoughalone.We’dbeencontentwiththreewonderful,healthychildren—whyonearthhadHesnatchedCollinawaysocruelly,onlypretendingtogiveusanotherpreciousgift?
FormonthsIcouldnotstopthetearsthatwouldcome,unbidden,asIwasheddishesorfoldedclothes,ordrovealongonthecountryroadwherethecarshadcollidedandmyhappylittleworldhadended.Icouldn’tbeartheholidays;thethoughtofseeingmysisterandsister-in-law’spregnantbellieswastoomuch,sowestayedaway.
Ifeltaconstantlumpinmythroat,andIsqueezedmyeyesshutsoIwouldn’tthinkofthepreciouslife—thelittlefingersandtoesandbellybutton—thatwewouldneverknow.
Ineededrefuge.Comfortfortheanguishthatengulfedme.
IclungtoPsalm34:18—“TheLORDisclosetothebrokenhearted;herescuesthosewhosespiritsarecrushed”—aswellasPsalm145:14—“TheLORDupholdsallwhofallandliftsupallwhoareboweddown”(NIV).Jesus,please.Pleasebeclosetome.MostdaysIcouldnotsenseHimanywhere.Buttherewassomethingthathad
occurredduringthelongnightbeforeIwasscheduledforlaborthatgavemethetiniestglimmerofhope,atraceofrefugethatsomehowcarriedme.Itwasunexplainable.
Ithappenedwhentheoldclockradionexttomybedclickedonatatimenoonehadsetitfor.AsIstruggledtofigureoutwhytheradio
wasonatthisstrangehour,asongbyFernandoOrtegabegantoplay.“Jesus,KingofAngels”pouredovermelikewarmhoney.That’stheonlywayIcandescribeit.Iweighedathousandpoundsandcouldnotmoveasthewordsgentlydrippeddownintomysoulandpooledthere.
ThelyricsremindedmethattheinfiniteGodoftheuniverseismindfulofeachsparrowthatfalls.Mybaby.Oh,mylittleone.Hewasmindfulofalltheanxiousthoughtsthatfilledme,andHewouldbewithmeandkeepmeinHispeace.Thefinalnotesoftheguitarfaded.
Tears,andmoretears.Mypillowwassoakedwiththem.IlayinthepredawngrayhoursandachedforthebabyIwasabouttodeliver,theoneIwouldnevergettoknow.Idreadedthehours,days,andweeksthatweretocome.Andyetmyheartreplayedthesonghundredsoftimesasthedarkdayspassed,areminderthatHispresence
waswithme,evenwhenIcouldnotfeelHimorunderstandthewhys.
TherewasahintofapromisethatonedayIwouldagainrisetospeakthegoodnessofHisname,andtherewascomfort,eveninmyashes.Therecurringmelodypulledmethoselastfewfeetintotheshelterthat
wasjustbeyondme.Iwaswarmandsafeanddry,eveninthemidstofhurting.
JustlikeFlashonthatcold,icynight.
Iwenttothewindow,whichwasnowglazedwithafinesheetofice.Throughit,Icouldseetheamberglowof
thestalllightsshiningthroughthedarknessandspillingontothefrozengroundbeyond.AndIknewinmyheartthatIwasbeingpulledcloseonceagain.
Psalm91:1-2says,
ThosewholiveintheshelteroftheMostHigh
willfindrestintheshadowoftheAlmighty.
ThisIdeclareabouttheLORD:
Healoneismyrefuge,myplaceofsafety;
heismyGod,andItrusthim.
ItuckedintightlyunderHisshadow.ChosetotrustinHiscare.LeanedintoHiscomfort.
Shelter.Sanctuary.Refuge.God’spresenceisalways
withus,evenwhenwecan’tfeelorseeHim.Evenwhenwecan’tunderstandourcircumstances.Andthough
wemighttryamillionotherwaystofillourvoidsandfindshelterfromourstorms,thereisnosubstitutefortherealthing.OnlyGodcanbeourtruesourceofrefuge.
Howmanytimesdowestandoutsideinthecoldwhenshelterissocloseathand?Sometimesallittakesisafewmoresteps—andthen
weareinHisarms,encircledinHiscareandcarriedbyHiscomfort.
Hehasallthefreshtowelsandblanketsweneed.
Knowwheretofindrefuge.TruesanctuaryisfoundinGodalone.
ItwasearlymorningwhenBridgettecalled.Aftertheformalchitchatabouthow-are-the-kids-and-how-is-Hay-soos(eyeroll),shegottoherpoint.
“I’vegotawonderfulopportunityforyourtalents,”shesaid.“Pleasepardonmyhuffingandpuffing.I’mtryingtogetmypowerwalkinwhileItalk.”
“Noproblem,”Ireplied.Iwasstillinmybathrobe,butthatwouldn’tkeepmefromdiscussingbusiness.Ipouredasecondcupofcoffeeandgrabbedachocolatechipcookie,thebreakfastofchampions.
ItseemedthatsheandStevehadbeenhiredtodesignandoverseethefinish-outofacorporatebuildingin
FortWorth,aprojectthatwouldincludearestaurantandcallcenter.
“Thiswouldbeper-fectforyouandTom,”Bridgetteremarkedwithenthusiasm.“It’sjustonebig,blankcanvas,andyourcreativitywillmakeitcometolife.Itneedscustomfinishes,artwork,signage,and
furniture.And,bytheway,we’dliketohireyoutoheaduptheFF&E.”
Bridgettecontinuedon,discussingissuesanddescribinghervisionforthespace,hereffusivevoicefillingmyear.ButIwasn’tfollowingit.Iwasstillstuckon“FF&E.”FF&E?Neverheardofit.Weretheyactualletters,orawordspelled
effeffeny?Ididn’twanttoappearfoolish,soIplayedalongwhileshethrewoutothertradeacronymssheobviouslyassumedIknew.IcaughtwhatIcouldandfuriouslyscribblednotessoIcouldlookthingsuplater.
“Wow,soundslikeagreatproject,”Isaidconfidently.“We’dlovetobepartofit!”Bridgette’senergyand
excitementwerecontagious,andsomehowevenheruseofinsideindustrytermsmademefeelreadytotakeontheworld.Ourmuralbusinesswasstillbumpingalong,andthiswasexactlythebreakwe’dbeenwaitingfor.Wesetatimetomeetatthebuildingsiteandthenhungup.
Myheartsank.Therealityofhavingtopresenttheideasinpersontotheclientsuddenlyhitme.WhatwasIthinking?Thisjobwaswaybeyondthescopeofanythingwe’deverdone,andIdidn’tunderstandevenhalfofwhatBridgettewastalkingabout.NotonlywasthisprojectgoingforwardinalanguageIdidn’tunderstand...Ialso
didn’thavethewardrobeforit.Yearsofpaintingbabynurseriesandcrampedbathroomshadhardlypreparedmeforeffeffeny,orwhateveritwas.Itsoundedsocorporateandprofessional.Thiswouldnotendwell,Ijustknewit.Mystomachturnedatthethought.
Meanwhile,Tomwascallingourplace“somekindofcircus,”andhewasn’ttoofaroffinhisassessment.Itseemedeveryanimalinthecountymadeitswayontoourpropertyatonetimeoranother:raccoonswhoregularlydinedonBeau’sdogfood,opossumswholovedpickingapartourtrash,micerunningamok,coyotes,
bobcats,snakes,straydogs
andcows...alllookingformischief,andtheyallseemedtofindus.
Infact,shortlybeforeFlashhadarrivedonthescene,wewereawakenedfromsleepbyfourloosehorsestraipsingthroughouryardatmidnight,followedbypeopleinpickuptruckswhoweretryingtoroundthemup.Maybeitwasthewhoops,
hollers,andblaringmusicthatspookedtherenegades,orperhapsitwasthespinningtires,orthesoundofbeerbottlesbeingthrown,orthecrazygunfireaimedskywardthatmadethehorsesrunwildlyincircles.Hardtotell.Allweknewwasthatlater,whenastraydonkeyshowed
up,itseemedlikejustanotheractinananimalcircusgoneawry.
Bythetimespringrolledaround,Flashhadbecomefriendswiththeratherlargeandcumbersomecattleinthenextpasture.Asweeducatedourselvesaboutdonkeys,welearnedtheyaresocialcreatureswhoarebestkeptwithotherdonkeys.
Unfortunately,thatwasnotanywhereinourbudget.Flashwouldhavetoflysoloforawhile.
Intheabsenceofanotherdonkey,theymightmakedowithacow,horse,sheep,orgoat.Anythingbutadog,atleastinFlash’scase.Dogs(andcoyotes)aredonkeys’naturalenemies,whichexplainedawholelotabout
FlashandBeau’schillyrelationship.Stillinabarking/kickingstandoffwithoneanother,eachdayfoundFlashatthebackfence,preferringtofraternizewiththefatbovinesontheothersidethanwithaslobbery,exuberantLab.Whilethecowsseemedmostlyindifferent—lyingdownorstandingwiththeirheads
throughthefenceforthe“better”grassonourside—Flashhungoutnearthemlikeacomfortableoldcompanion.
Thedayswerewarming,andtherewasaslow,easypacetolifeinthepasture.IwishedIcouldsaythesameforlifeonthe“people”sideofthefence.Thestreamofmaraudinganimalsonlycomplicatedthejugglingact
ofworkandfamily.Therewasnothinglikepickingupthecontentsofanoverturnedgarbagecanafteragangofraccoonshadpickedthroughit,whilestilltryingtomakeittotheday’sjobsiteontime.Countrylife,whilemuchprettierthansuburbanlife,takesawholelotmoreworktomaintain.
Finally,aweekendarrivedthatwasn’tfilledwithhockeygamesandtripstoHomeDepotforprojectsupplies.Wecouldcatchuponsomeofourownhoney-dosforachange.Istoodatthekitchensinkandplungedmyhandsintothesudsywatertotacklethepileofdishesfromthenightbefore.
Washingdishesdidn’tseemquitesobadwhenIhadtimetolookoutthewindowandwatchGraysonuntanglehisfishingpoleandsortthetackleboxinthefrontyard.Beaulaybesidehimandyawned,clearlyrelaxedbythesoundofspinners,jigs,andspoonersbeingorganizedinthehardplasticcontainer.Graysonclosedthelid,and
thelargedogsnappedtoattention,instantlyreadyforawalktothepondwithhisboy.
Poleovershoulder,tackleboxinhand,dogatside.ThankYou,God,forthis.
Ireachedforaplateanddunkeditintothewater,stillgazingthroughthewindow,pasttheyardtothewildflowersbeyond.
Suddenly,themomentwasinterruptedbythreegorgeoushorseswhoemergedfromthewoodsandtrottedintothefrontfield.Itwasasiftheymaterializedrightbeforemyeyes,StarTrekstyle.
Onceintheclearing,theyloweredtheirheadstograze,tailsswishingandmanestossing.Youngmales,theyexemplifiedequine
perfection:ablackhorsewithawhiteblazedownitsnose;achestnutwithwhitesocksandalong,darkmaneandtail;andapaintwithbrownandwhitemarkings.MydishscrubbingimmediatelyceasedasIleanedforwardtotakeinthestunningbeautyoftheseunexpectedanimals.
Asachild,I’dbeensohorse-crazythatIdrovemyparentsnuts.Daily,Iscouredthelocalnewspaperinsearchoftheperfecthorsetoputinourbackyard.IwassureI’dfindonethatlookedlikeLittleJoe’sonBonanza,abeautifulpaintthatwouldbemine,allmine.Ihaditallplannedout:Wewouldspendlazyafternoonstogether—me
braidinghistailandbrushinghimuntilhegleamed,andhimcarryingmeoverthecountrysideinfullgallop.IwouldbebeautifulandcourageousatopmysteednamedApache(Patchforshort).
Unfortunately,asapreacher’sfamily,welivedintown,andlaterwemovedtoMexicoCityasmissionaries
—soneitherlocationwassuitableforkeepingequines.MyfantasyofhavingahorsehadfadedintoquietwistfulnessasIgrewup,butseeingtheseanimalssuddenlyappearremindedmeofmylatentdesire.Toobadallwehaveisadustydonkey.
“Cometakealookatthis!”IcalledtoTomandMeghan,flingingsudsasI
motionedwithwethands.Theyhurriedtothewindowforapeekatourlatestfour-leggedguests.
“ThoseareRussell’shorses.”Tomidentifiedthematfirstglancewithalow,appreciativewhistle.“Aren’ttheysomething!”Hepausedforamomentinadmiration.“I’vegothisworknumber.I’llgivehimacalltolethim
knowthey’rehere.ButfirstI’llgetthemlockedupinourpastureforsafekeeping.”
Infinitelyeasierthancatchingonesmallishdonkey,Tomhandilycoaxedthethreehorsesintofollowinghisoat-filledbucket.Pieceofcake.Meghanopenedthegateastheyarrivedandquicklyshutitbehindthemwithaclangof
thechainonthemetalcrossbar.TomandMeghanreturnedtothehousesoTomcouldnotifytheowner.
“Russellcan’tgetherewithhistraileruntilafterwork,”Tomsaid,holdingabusinesscardwiththenumberscrawledonit.Hesethiscellphonedownand
continued.“LookslikeFlashwillgettohavecompanyfortherestoftheafternoon.”
“Thiscouldbeinteresting!Iwonderhowhe’llfeelaboutsharinghisspacewiththeseguys,”Iresponded.Islippedintoflip-flopsandheadedtothegatetoseewhatwouldhappen.
Andwhatasighttobehold.
Theafternoonsuncastagoldenglowoverthepastureandcreatedastorybooksceneinwhichthestallionstookcenterstage.Prancingandplaying,theyseemedtodanceeffortlesslyacrossthefield.Itwasahorseballet!
Thesunglistenedofftheirripplingmusclesastheytossedtheirheadsandgallopedthroughthetall
grass.Theirshapelylegscarriedthemaroundandaround,whiletheirmanesandtailsflowedoutbehindtheminrawbeauty.Thestrengthandperfectionofthesecreatureswasajoytowatch.Werestedourchestsagainstthegate,elbowsoutandafootonthelowestrung,andenjoyedtheshow.
Justthen,amovementfromthecornerofthepasturecaughtourattention.
Flash.Arrestedfromthespot
nearhisbelovedcowsbythissuddenintrusionoftheequines,heshookhislongearsasiftryingtowakehimselfup.Bendingaroundlikeacontortionisttoscratchhisrearendwithhisteeth,he
broughtabackfootupandsetitdownwithathud.Wewatchedhimflexhislipsasthenewcompany’sarrivalbegantoregisterinhisbrain.Heblinkedhisblacklashesuntilfinallyalert,thendidadoubletake.Flashlookedatthehorses,andthenbacktothecows.
Horses,cows.Horses.Cows.
Hmmm.Yep,horses.Definitely
horses.Andwithoutabackward
glance,heditchedthecowsforthenewcomers.
Justlikethat,thecowsweredeadtohim.Hetrottedovertomeethisnewposse.
Flash’ssparsemanebristledbackandforthashischoppygaitcarriedhimtothe
trio.Hepulledupnexttotheshinyblackleaderandraisedhisgiantheadingreeting.Thehorseturnedhisgracefulnecktoseetheshortdonkeyarriveandgaveasnort.Ha!Asifmotioningtohisfriends,henoddedtowardtheoppositeendofthepasture,andthethreewereoffinacloudofdustandhooves—onlythistimetheywere
followedbyFlash,wholookedhopelesslyoutgunnedandoutclassed.
Nexttothecows,Flashhadseemedlikearegalrulerofthelandscape.Hisintelligenteyesandquickwitendearedhimtothemindless,cud-chewingbovineswhokepthimcompanyeachafternoon.Butnow,withthearrivalofthethreeballerinos,
Flashsuddenlyhadsomeshortcomings,startingwithhisstature.Suchstubbylegs!Andhishead’sproportionwasconspicuouslyoutofwhack.Myword,sohuge!Andtheears—oh,theears.
ButFlashdidnotcare.Heshiftedintohighgearandheadedafterthegroup,nowcirclingatthefarendofthepasture.Buckingandbraying
ashewent,hejoinedupandfellintostepwiththeirshow.Theypausedathisarrival,decidingwhetherornottoletthisnewcomerenter.Please?Flashseemedtosaywithhisears,allforwardandhopeful.Someonewhinniedinreply.OneofthembrokerankandallowedFlashin.
Andinthatinstant,hewasoneofthem.
Thehorsespranced.Flashpranced.Thehorsesreared.Flashreared.Thehorsestossedtheir
manes.Flashtossed—well,tried
totoss—hismane.Thehorsesglistened.Okay.Flashdidn’t
glisten.Infact,hemagneticallycollectedallthe
kicked-updustintohisfuzzygraycoat.
Butnomatter.Flashwashavingthetimeofhislife.Hewheeledandturnedanddancedandcavorted.Hechasedandnuzzledandpawedandreared.Hewasridiculousinhisearnestness,buthewaspartofthehorse
ballet—andhislittleheartbeatfasterwitheachpliéandspin.
Flashhadburstintolife,andeveryequinecellinhisbodywasablaze.Thesoulofathoroughbredinthebodyofashaggydonkey.Whatapicture;whataday.Thiswasliving,andI’dneverseenhimlooksoendearing.Thesettingsunoutlinedhisformin
goldenfringeashispaceslowedtoagracefuladagioaroundthethreehorses.Circling,spinning,moving.Thecowslookedonindisbelief.Whathadhappenedtotheirquiet,unassumingfriend?Theyhardlyrecognizedhimwithhisnewairofconfidenceandall.
Eveningfelllikeagossamercurtainoverthefield,andRussellarrivedwithhisdualtruckandhorsetrailertoloadupthegorgeousguestsandtakethemhome.Withaslamofthetrailerdoorandaroarofdiesel,theyweregone,andFlashstoodatthegatewithearsprickedandtrembling.Hisnostrilsflared,andhissidesheavedashe
stifledhisbellows.Hewatchedthetrailerturnthecorneranddisappeardownthedriveway.Somethinghadhappenedtohimthatday,andevenheknewit.
Hewaschanged.Hewasbigger,stronger,
andmorepowerfulthanbefore.
Heshowedconfidence.Heheldhisheadhigher.
Hecarriedhimselfboldly.He’dbecomefearless.Andallbecausehe’drun
withhorses.Itwasasthoughhehad
suddenlyrealizedhisowngreatness.Asifsomeonehadtoldhimthatdonkeysandhorseswerenearlyidenticalingeneticmakeup.Thattheysharedthesamechromosomes—sixty-twoof
them,infact.Theonlydifferencebetweendonkeysandhorsesisanextrasetoftwochromosomesthathorsescarry.AnextrasetthatFlashdidn’tneedintheleast.
IthoughtaboutFlashandhisvisitorslongafterward.
Maybehe’dbeentoldallhislifethathe’dneveramounttoanythingbecausehelackedthetwounitsthat
wouldmakehimgreat.Maybehespentallhistimethinkingabouthowhismanedidn’tblowinthewindandhowhisgaitwasbumpyandhowsillyhe’dlookifhetriedrunning.Maybehe’dalwayscomparedhimselfwithhorsesandcomeupshorteverytime.Maybenobodyevertoldhimthathehas97percentofthesamechromosomesas
thosehorses...orthatthehorsesneededtwolesstobejustlikehim.
Maybenobodyevertoldhimthathehasallthechromosomesheneedstobeaperfectdonkey.
Iwonderedif,untilnow,Flashhadbeenfocusedonthetwohelacked,ratherthanonthesixty-twohehad.I
wonderedifhe’dtoldhimself,asIhad:IfonlyI’dfinishedmycollegedegree.
Iwonderedifhe’dsaid:I’mnottalentedenoughtorunwiththebigboys.Myearsaretoobig,myheadtooheavy,mylegstooshort,mybraytooloud.
Iwasn’tbornintomoney.Orlooks.Orspecialintelligence.
I’mnotgraceful.Ican’tprance.Idon’tglisten.
Idon’thavebusinesstraining.I’mtooold.IdriveanancientFordExplorer.Inevertookartlessons.
LookingathislackhadkeptFlashwiththecows—thoselackluster,mediocrecharacterswhosatandwishedforbettergrassandmoregumption.
OnceagainIfoundmyselfmirroredinthiswinsomedonkeyofmine.Butthistime,Isawwhatachangeofperspectivecoulddo.PerhapsIneededtostartfocusingonmysixty-two,ratherthanthetwo.Aw,Flash.You’reagenius.
Ofcourse,it’sonethingtothinksomethingandquiteanotherthingtoactuallydoit.TheprojectwithBridgettewasofficiallyunderway,anditimmediatelytestedmyfledglingsenseofempowerment.
“Bethereat1:00,”Bridgettetoldmeaswewrappedupanotherphonecallabouttheinteriordesign
ofthespace.“We’llbeintheconferenceroom,andI’vegivenyouthirtyminutesontheagendatomakeapresentationtotheboardandthecontractors.”
Ohdear.ThatwouldhavebeenagoodmomenttotellBridgettethatIhaveadebilitatingfearofspeakinginconferenceroomstoboardsandcontractors.Also
togroupsoftwoormore.It’sthisthingwheremythroatclosesupandmymouthgetsalldryandmyvisiongoesblurry,justbeforeIblackout.IbrieflyimaginedwhatitwouldbeliketohitmyheadonthetableasIwasgoingdownandthenbelaidupinahospitalwithaskullinjuryforseveralweeksandonlybeabletoeatJell-Oforevery
meal.ThesilverlininginthatwholescenariowasthatIwouldn’thavetomakemypresentation,andalsoImightpossiblylosefivepoundsandnothavetowearfauxSPANXtoweddings.
IwishedI’dsaidallthat,rightthenandthere.ButBridgettewassopersuasiveandcharmingthatforamomentIfeltallconfident,
andIletmyselfgetsweptupinherenergy.Idanced,justalittlebit,anditfeltgood.ButmaybeIshouldcallherbackandtellherI’dmadeahugemistakeandwouldnotbeabletomakeittothemeetingonaccountofmyillness,orperhapsabrokenleg.Icouldprobablyarrangeanaccident,oratleastmakeafakecast.
I’mgoodatcrafts.Anythingtogetoutofthiswholeloomingeffeffenycatastrophe.
No.Ihadtogothroughwiththis.AnditwasthenthatIdecided,shakily,torunwithhorses.Enoughwiththecows.Iwantedtotryglisteningforonce.
Butitwouldtakesomework.
Ifoundadraftingtableonacurbsidefortwenty-fivedollars,andTomclearedaspotforitintheloftthatoverlooksthebackroom.Wemovedanoldcomputer,broughtinsomelamps,andputachairinplace.IboughtaportablefilingboxandstartedmakinggooduseofInternetsearches,startingwith“FF&E”:Furniture,
Fixtures,andEquipment.Aha!Sothat’swhatit
means!I’minchargeofprocuringfurniture,fixtures,andequipment!Ispentaninordinateamountoftimesearching“HowtoGiveaWinningPresentation”and“FearofPublicSpeaking.”Imadeatriptothedepartmentstoreforsomeappropriatebusinessattire(30percent
off)andpickedupabriefcaseatthethriftshop.IaskedforPhotoshophelpfromourkids.Ibecamefamiliarwitharchitecturaldrawings.Hairhighlightswouldhavetowait—rats!
ButIwasready.AndIgotdowntobusiness.TomandIbothduginandcameupwithideasthatstretchedus,madeuscreatenewkinds
ofart,andcausedustoseejusthowmuchwecoulddooncewestoppedfocusingonwhywecouldn’tdoit.
Andeventhoughyoucouldsaywe’dalreadytakenourshareofchancesalongtheway(i.e.,ditchingregularjobsforadreamyartisticone),we’dalsoletourselvesgetcomfortableinthetypesofprojectswewentfor.The
kindsofclientswethoughtweweregoodenoughfor.Thejobsthatdidn’trequiremakingpresentationsandproposalsondesignboardsinconferenceroomstoimportantpeople.We’dgottenpassiveinourapproachandforgottenthepowerofputtingourselvesoutthereonabiggerstage.Weplayedsmall.Safe.
We’dcountedthetwochromosomeswelackedasmoreimportantthanthesixty-twowehad,andithadkeptusinaplaceofmediocrity.
Flashhadusbeatbyamile.
Yousee,whensomeoneopensagateandgivesyouashotatrunningwithhorses,thechoiceisyours.Youcan
staywhereyou’reat—comfortable,unchallenged,andwishingyourlifeaway—oryoucanstepforwardanddecidethatthisisyourmoment.Youcandanceonyourstubbylittlelegsandcollecteveryoneelse’sdustandmaybelookfoolishdoingit.Butyou’redoingit!That’sthepoint.Youfindyourthoroughbredheartinthere
somewhere,andyoutakethechance.Youchooseit.Andyourunwithit.
“As[aman]thinksinhisheart,soishe,”saysProverbs23:7(NKJV).Iwonderhowmanylimitsyou’veputonyourselfbysimplythinkingincorrectly.Byfocusingonpastfailures,allthegiftsandtalentsyouthinkyoudon’thave,andtheabilitiesyou
believeeveryoneelsehas,youkeepyourselfinapositionofnotbeingreadywhenopportunitycomesknocking.Youchoosecowsoverhorsesbecausecowsaresafeandacceptingandthinkyou’rereallyawesome.It’ssosweet.Buttheykeepyoubythefence,watchinglifefromthesidelines.Chewingcud,offeringopinions,andgiving
commentaryontheoneswhoareouttheregettingsomethingdone.
Youdon’teverdoanythingthatmakesyourheartraceoryourpalmsgetsweaty,orthatinvolvestheriskofhittingyourheadonthewaydown.Youstaybusyandworkhardandneverhavetoconsiderthatyou’relivinginfearofbeingyourbestself.
Runningwithhorses,ontheotherhand,meansthatyouhavetofaceyourfears.Thefearoflookingfoolish,thefearoffailingbig,thefearofspeakinginpublic,oflearningnewsoftware,ofgoingbeyondyourcomfortzoneintotheunknown.Maybeeventhefearofyourownsuccess.Itmeansthatyoucountyoursixty-twoas
enoughforthetaskandthensetyourheartonexcellence—beingthebestyoucanbe.
Runningwithhorsesisrisky.AndIadmiredFlashforhispluckydecisiontouphisgame.Itinspiredmetoriskblackingoutduringmypresentationandtochoosewide-leggedtrouserssonoonewouldseemykneesknock.Yes,myvisionwasa
littleblurry,andmymouthwentdry,butsomehowIsurvivedmythirtyminutesinthatconferenceroom.Ididn’trememberanythingaboutitafterward,andthat’sbesidethepoint.Imayhaveevendrooledalittlebit.Ican’tthinkaboutthat.
Here’swhatmatters.Icametoseehowonesinglefear,thefearofpublic
speaking,keptmefrommovingforwardinmyprofessionalandpersonallife.Howmanywayscanapersonavoidleadingagroupdiscussionorteachingaclassormakingapresentation?I’dcomeupwithahundreddifferentonesthroughoutmylifeinordertogivemyfear,onesetoftwochromosomes,abiggerplacethanthesixty-
two.Anditkeptmefromdoingmybestwork,becausenooneevergetsaskedtopresentmediocreideas.
Idecidedtochangeallofthat.Iwouldnolongerletfearbethereasontosaynotosomething.Iffearwastheonlythingthatstoodbetweenmeandanewopportunity,thentheanswerwouldhavetobeyes.(Jumpingoutof
airplanesnotwithstanding.)AndIwoulduseexcellenceasmyweaponofchoicetodefeatthefearthatwantedtoparalyzeme.Ratherthanfocusingonthefearitself,I’dfocusondoing—andbeing—excellentinmyapproach.I’dmakethemostofmysixty-twoandrunwiththosehorses.Whateverhappenednext,well,I’ddealwithit.
Excellence—goingtheextramile,learningallyoucan,doingthingsbetterthanyouthoughtyoucould—bringsconfidencethattrumpsfear.Itopensupdoorsandcreatesopportunitiesthatmediocrityandfearnevercan.Anditworksoneverylevel—notjustinbusiness.
Whatwouldhappenifwestoppedfearinghavingadysfunctionalfamilyandsimplyfocusedonhavinganexcellentfamilylife?Ifwestoppedwishingwe’dhaddecentrolemodelsandjustbecameonesourselves?
Imagineifwequitworryingaboutlosingweightandfocusedinsteadonbeinginexcellenthealth.We’d
choosefoodsandmakelifestylechoicesthatwouldenergizeussowecouldrockourworlds.
Whatif,ratherthanbemoaningalackofdeepfriendshipsinourlives,weworkedatbeingexcellentfriendstoothers?
Ratherthanlettingourselvesbeconvincedthatwearen’tsmartenoughfor
thatjobpromotionorthatdegree,whatifwefocusedongainingtheskillsandknowledgetomakeithappen?
Insteadofsittingatthebackoftheroomwherewecan’tbenoticed,whatifwefoundseatsatthefrontandraisedourhandstoaskquestions?
Orratherthanwishingwewerebornwithartisticgenes,whatifwepickedupapaintbrushorcameraandfoundthatcreativeskillscanbelearned?Maybewe’llneverbePicassosorAnselAdamses,butitdoesn’tmatter.Wecanachievefarmorebydoingthanbysimplywatching.
Doingmakesyoutryharder,reachfurther,andachievemorethanyouthoughtyoucould.Actionpropelsyoutowardexcellenceandmakestheimpossible—possible.
Yes,whenyourunwithhorses,youruntheriskofstumblingandlookingfoolish....Butoh,whatawaytogo.Thereisgreatness
insideofyou,lookingforachancetoburstintolifeandkickupsomedust.Youwillbestretchedandchallengedandpushedbecausethebarhasbeenraised.You’llhavetoreachdeeptofindwhat’sinsideyou.
Butyouareuptoit.Rememberyoursixty-two.
Thesixty-twothatmakeyoutheperfectdonkey.
JustlikeFlash.Justlikeme.
Runwithhorses.Thepursuitofexcellenceconquersfear.
Flash’ssociallifewaslookingup.Notlongafterhismomentousdancewiththeeleganthorses,somenewpeoplemovedintotheranchbehindus.AportionoftheirsprawlinglandabuttedthenorthendofFlash’spastureononeside,whilethecows’fenceborderedthesouthend.Thisarrangementgavethe
ever-curiousFlashaperfectvantagepointtoseewhatwasgoingonaroundhim.
Oneday,wenoticedsomehorsesgrazinginthenorthpasture.Flashnowhadhispickofwhomhe’dliketospendhislazyafternoonswith—thehorsesorthecows.Iwasn’tsurprisedathis
decision;Flash’snewfoundconfidencemadehimallysquarelywiththehorses.
“ThiswillhavetosatisfyFlash’ssocialneedsfornow,”Tomsaidashewatchedthemtouchnosesoverthefence.“I’malittlerelieved,actually.Allthebenefitsofhavingmoreanimalswithouttheworkandexpense.”
Flashwashappyascouldbewiththisnewarrangement.Heliftedhispliableupperliptoshowhisteeth,rockinghisheadfromsidetosideingreeting.Diditbotherhimthathehadaleafbetweenhisfrontteeth?Nope.Notintheleast.Hejustsmiledaway,fullyconfidentoftheeffectofhisdonkeycharmonthe
maresnextdoor,whoseemedamusedbutthoroughlyunimpressed.
“Honey,letmehelpyoufinishloadingthetruck,”Ioffered,grabbingaplasticbinfilledwithpaintsandbrushes.TomwasdepartingforaworkmarathontocompletetheinstallationoftheartforBridgette’scorporateproject.Itlookedlikeitwasgoingto
takeanall-nightertomeetthedeadline.BridgetteandStevehadchampionedourskillsandconvincedtheprojectmanagersthatwecouldnotonlycreateandinstallcustomartworkbutalsodesignsignageandwayfindingforthespacesaswell.
Aswehadsuspected,thejobwasindeedbeyondourpreviousexperience,andit
requiredsomeon-the-jobtrainingtopullitoff.Butthescopeoftheprojectmadeusfindsometalentwedidn’tknowwe’dhad.Weleanedonourdaughterandnewson-in-lawtogiveusthosecrashcoursesinPhotoshopandlearnedgraphicdesignaswewentalong.Themediumwasnew,buttheprinciplesandtheskillswe’dhonedover
yearsofcreatingmuralartwerethesame.Therewasanexcitementtothework—asink-or-swimfeelingthatcarriedusthroughtheweeksofdesignandinstallation.Wewere,indeed,runningwithhorses.
Thatnight,wehaddecidedtodivideandconquertheworkload,soIstayedatourhomeofficeandpoured
myselfanextracupofcoffeetoworkonsomelast-minutedrawingsthatwereneeded.By1:00a.m.,Iwasblearybutdeterminedtofinish.
Then,withoutwarning,thebrightredandbluelightsofasquadcarpiercedthedarknessoutsidethewindow.MyheartstoppedforasecondasIassessedthesituation.Nocarseverdrive
upourremotedrivewaylateatnight,letaloneapolicevehicle!Thiscouldnotbegood.Ipeeredthroughtheglassastwosheriff’sdeputieshoistedthemselvesoutofthefrontseatandcameupthewalk.
“Howdy,ma’am,”oneofthemensaidasIopenedthedooracrack.InmymindIcouldseetheheadline
—“WomanSlainbyPhonySheriffsOvernight”—followedbyastorywithasternwarningtowomentonotopentheirdoorsforjustanyonewhoflashesabadge.
Asifoncue,theofficersflashedtheirbadges,andIfeltcertaintheywereprobablymurderers—butIwentaheadandopenedthedoorwidertogetitoverwith.
ThetwomenwereexactlywhatyoumightpictureTexascountysheriff’sdeputieslookinglike:imposingandserious,withcrewcuts,andwithbuildsthathintedatbothweightliftinganddoughnuts.Theirstarcheduniformswerepulledtautacrosstheirchests,andsuddenlyIfeltmorethreatenedbyanimpendingbuttonpop-offthantheColt
.45sintheirholsters.Plus,theircarlookedsomewhatlegitwiththelightsandall.
“Sorrytobotheryou,ma’am,”theleaddeputysaid.“I’llcutrighttothechase.”Hepausedforamoment.“Uh,youownadonkey?”
Sir,you’repullingupatthishour,withlightsflashing,toaskmeifIownadonkey?
Justthen,apickuptruckroaredupthedrivewayandcametoastopbehindthesquadcar.Twovehiclesinonenight?Thiswassomekindofrecord.Thetruckdoorburstopen,andoutstumbledaman,awaftofbeerandstalecigarshangingonhim.
“Yes,yes,Ido,”Ireplied,narrowingmyeyesandthinkingwhatagoodsetupthiswas.Thefakeofficersdisarmmewiththeirbadgeswhilethebosspullsuptofinishthejob.Iwasagoner,forsure.IfonlyI’dhadtimetoleaveanoteforthekids.
“Well,thisgentlemanhere,”saidthedeputy,motioningoverhisshoulder,
“saysyougotaproblemonyourhands.”
Ilookedquestioninglyovertothenewguy,whosteppedforward,apparentlytotellmeallaboutit.ItwasthenthatIwonderedaboutajusticesysteminwhichsomekindof“donkeyproblem”isdeemedgreaterthanthefactthatthismanmayhavedrivenundertheinfluencetoinform
meinperson.Whatkindofsocietyisthis,anyway?Andwhyaren’ttheofficersarrestingthisman?
“Yoredonkey...,”heslurred,pointinghisfingerinmyface.“Yoredonkeygotupintomycorralandgotatmymare.I’dbeenkeepin’herawayfrommystallions,andthenyoresorrylittledonkeybrokeinandgotto
her.”Heswayedtowardmeandcontinued.“Yeah,hegottoher,allright.BythetimeIfigureditoutandfound’em,theywaslayin’down,smokin’acigarette.Thedeedhadbeendone.”
Iblinkedathiminhorrorashecappedoffhisstory.“Lady,yoregonnahaveababymuleonyorehands,’causethat’swhatyouget
whenyoucrossadonkeywithahorse.Ababymule!”Hekickedatsomegravelindisgustandlethiswordshangintheair.
TherewasanawkwardpauseasIstruggledforanappropriateresponse.SomethingaboutFlashbeingan“immature”maleandincapableofprocreation.Somethingabouthowhewas
tooyoungforthiskindofmonkeybusiness.Wait.Hadmaturityhappenedwhilewe’dbeenuptoournecksinournewproject,notpayingattentiontothepassageoftimeandadolescence?Uh-oh.
Thedeputyclearedhisthroatandasked,“Yougonnagogethimtonightthen?”
Iturnedtohimandsaid,“Tonight?Ican’tdraghimhomeinthemiddleofthenight!Can’tthiswaituntilmorning?The‘deed’hasbeendone,sowhat’sthehurry?”Also,Iwasinmyslippers.
Thedeputylookedattheman.Thehorseownershrugged,thefightsuddenlygoneoutofhim.Hegotback
inhistruck,slumpedbehindthesteeringwheel,andsaidoutthedoor,“Justgethimtomorrow;it’salreadytoolate.”
Morningdawned,andTomfellintobed,exhaustedfromtheall-nightartinstallation.Idecidedrightthentodeal
withthedonkeysituationonmyown,soIkeptquietaboutFlash’sescapade,tuckedTomin,andtiptoedout.Iwouldneedtools,soIheadedforthelocalfeedstore.
“Givemethelargesthalteryou’vegot,”Isaidtotheladyattheregister.Islappedmyhanddownonthe
counterandlookedaroundthejointlikeIknewwhatIwasdoing.
“Sure.Whatchagot,aheftyBelgian?”sheasked,snappinghergumandindicatinghisheightwithherhandoverherhead.
Isighed.“No.No,justasmallishdonkey...withagigantichead.”Iheldmyhandchest-high.“I’vegotto
gethimhomefrommyneighbor’shouse,soI’llneedsomeoatsandaleadropeaswell.”
Justthen,mycellphonerang.ItwasmyfriendPriscilla.SheandIhadmetafewyearsearlierwhenshe’dfoundmybusinesscardandhiredmetopaintherbaby’snursery.Wehititoffimmediatelyandspentso
muchtimetalkingwitheachotherthattheone-weekjobtookaboutthreeweekstocomplete.Ourdifferencesinage,vocation,ethnicity,andlifeseasondidn’tmatteronebitaswesatonthatnurseryroomflooranddreamedupabeautifulspaceforthenewbaby.
Later,eventhoughIhadretreatedintomyworkandfamilyresponsibilities,shekeptafterme.Gradually,throughherdeterminedefforttobreakthroughmywallofbusyness,webecamerealfriends,andovertimeIhadcometocountherasfamily.Shenowhadtwobabiesintow,andIhopedtoconvinceherthatsheandherhusband
neededtomovetothecountrytoraisetheirfamily.Ithoughtahouseonourquietroadwouldbeaperfectplaceforthem.
“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked.Istartedtogiveherthelowdown,butbeforeIcouldfinish,shesaid,“I’monmyway,”andhungup.Priscillawasalwaysupforanadventure,andwhatbetter
waytoinitiateherintocountrylifethantochasedownaloosefarmanimal?
TheAugustairwasstiflingbythetimewedonnedtennisshoesandgotourselvesorganized.Itwasgoingtobeahotone.Accompaniedbythedeafeningsoundofcicadasoverhead,PriscillaandImadeourwaytothepasture’s
backgate,whichhadbeenrippedfromitshingesbymypreciouslittledonkey.Mercy!
Wewalkedfarthertofindabrokenfencepost,wiresdangling.Alittlefarther,andanotherbrokenfence.Dearme.IdreadedtoseewhatkindofstateFlashwouldbeinafterallthis.Wefinallyfoundhimholedupinthecorralnexttohisladylove,
beatupfromhisnightofchargingthroughbarbedwirefencesandfoistinghisaffectionuponher.
Justonelookathimtoldmehewasnotgoingtocomeeasily.Hehadthesamehardeneddonkeystareasthefirstnightwe’dfoundhim—“Makeme,”itsimplysaid.
Sowehalteredhimupandstartedcoaxing.
Flashwouldhavenoneofit.Andwhocouldblamehim?Theleggymarehe’dfallenforwasadorable.Chocolatebrownincolorwithablackmaneandtail,shewasanexoticvixen,andhewasalovesickdonkey-boy.Hewashopelessly,madly,genuinelyinlovewithher.She,ontheotherhand,wasnotsomuchinlovewith
himbutclearlyinlovewithbeingadored.Withherheadtossingandhoovesprancing,sheacceptedthislopsidedrelationshipwithherbodylanguage.ThatwasallFlashneededtosee;hewasfullycommittedtomakingthetenuousbondwork.Now,withheadlowandblubbering
lipspulledback,hesullenlybrayedhisoppositiontoourmissiontomovehim.
Flashrefusedtoleavehisgirlfriend,whomwenowcalled“Maria,”afterthefemaleleadinWestSideStory.Attheprospectofbeingforcedapart,shedecidedshe’dmakeitworkaswell.Mariawhinniedathimandpacedbackandforth
inhercorralasweinchedhimawayfromher.Hoursofpushing,pulling,cajoling,entreating,andofferingtreatsyieldedonlylimitedprogress.Wewerestillontheneighbor’sproperty,justhalfwaytothebackgate,andstandingatanimpasseintheblisteringsun.
“We’vetriedeverything,”Priscillasaid,wipingtheperspirationfromherforehead.“Theonlythingwehaven’ttriedisdroppingtheropetoseeifhe’llcomeonhisown.”Sheremindedmethat,undernormalcircumstances,Flashfollowsusaroundlikeapuppydog.Hecan’tstandtobeleftbehind.
“True,”Isaid,unconvincedbutwillingtotryanythingatthispoint.“Wemightaswellgiveitago.Whatdowehavetolose?”
Sowedroppedtheropeandturnedtoheadbacktoourplace.Wetookteenylittlepretendsteps,glancingoverourshoulderstoseewhatFlashwoulddo.
“Andwe’rewalkingaway.We’rewalking,andwe’releaving...”Inarratedourmovementsforgoodmeasure,justincaseFlashdidn’tnoticethatwewereleavinghim.
“Andwe’rewalking...”Toouramazement,he
thoughtaboutitforonlyamoment,thenpickeduphis
smallhoovesandfollowed.Onhisown.Nocarrot,nostick.Justfollowed.
Iguessaslongashethoughtitwashisownidea,hewaswillingtocooperate.
Flashsteppednonchalantlybehindustheremainingdistance,asifwewereoutonaSundaystroll.Perhapsheknewitwassimplytimetogohome.Or
perhapshewasplottinghisreturn.Whateverthecase,wehurriedlyjury-riggedthegateinplacebehindus,andPriscillastoppedtoadmirethestrengthanddeterminationithadtakentobreakitdowninthefirstplace.“Wow,thatguysurefoundhispassion.Heknewwhathewantedanddidn’tletanythingstandinhisway,”
shecommented.“I’dneverhavebelieveditifIhadn’tseenitwithmyowneyes.”
Likeheknewweweretalkingabouthim,Flashseemedtoshrughisnarrowdonkeyshoulderswithmodestyandloweredhisheadintothegrasstomunchaway,hisforayintoromanceoverwithfornow.Beautrottedouttoofferhisopinion
aboutFlash’sescapade,barkinghismoralindignationfrombehindourlegs,butFlashsimplyignoredthecriticism.
PriscillaandImadeourwaybacktothehouseforsomesweetteaandair-conditioning,relievedtohaveFlashbackinthefoldwherehebelonged.Ipulledtwoglassesfromthecupboard,
thenfoundapenandhastilyscrawled“findyourpassion”onanoldenvelopethatwassittingonthecounter.IthoughtImightliketomuseaboutitlater,butofcourseIpromptlyforgotaboutit.Forquiteawhile.
Butthefunnythingaboutwritingsomethingdown,evenifyouforgetthatyoueverwroteit,isthatthe
messagestayswithyoulongafterward.Theenvelopeeventuallywentthewayofgatheredtrash,yetthementalnoteattachedtoitfollowedmearoundandturnedupinoddmoments.Middleofthenight.Halfwaythroughashower.Drivingtothehomeimprovementstore.
“Findyourpassion.”
Flashhadcertainlyfoundhispassion.Therewasasheriff’sreport(andabrokengate)toproveit.I’dpicturedhismidnightrendezvouswiththeprettylittlemareasahumorousanecdotetotellataparty,anicebreakerofastorythatwassuretogetalaugh.Flashwasexceedingourexpectationsasaconversationpiece,andIfelt
reallyproudofhimforthat,evenifthecircumstanceswereabitsketchy.
Butthatnotestuckwithme.
DidIhaveapassionbigenoughtopursuewiththesamedoggeddeterminationFlashhad?Itwaskindofadauntingthought,especiallywhensomuchofmylifeseemedmuddledandunclear.
AsIcouldseeit,Ihadseveralpassions,allcompetingformyattentionandnotnecessarilyworkingtogetherinonebeautiful,synergisticpurposeasIimaginedtheyshould.
Perhapsmakingalistwouldhelp.Ibroughtoutmynotebook,turnedtoafreshpage,andpaused.Finally,Iwrote,
MyPassions—RachelRidge
(Alwayswriteyournameatthetop.)
1.Faith—mycorebeliefs
IputthisonefirstbecauseIfiguredthat’swhatgoodChristiansaresupposedtodo.IrememberedsittinginSundayschoolandseeingcirclesdrawnonanoverheadprojectorimage,withthecentercirclebeingJesusChrist,andthelargercirclesarounditrepresentingotherpartsofyourlife,almostlikeripples.Totallymadesense.
Yes,thisshouldbethefirstthingIlist,eventhoughIsortofthinkitoughttogowithoutsaying.Butitwouldfeelfunnytoleaveitoff.Orwouldit?
IimaginedthosecirclesagainandwonderedwhatwouldhappenifItookfaithoutofthecenter.WhatwouldIputinitsplace?Suddenly,seeinglifewithoutamoral
compassandanabidingrelationshipwithGodatitscorelookedlikeahopelessabyss.IfIthoughtlifewasmuddledandconfusedbefore,nowitwouldbecompletelyimpossible.
Truthfully,asoflateitfeltmorelikeavaluethanapassion,butwhenpushcametoshove,ifthedefinitionforpassionwassomethinglike
“strongenergyoremotionthatcompelsyou,”thenfaithwouldqualify.Iwasstillabitunclearabouthowitshouldactuallylook(i.e.,ifIweretrulypassionate,shouldn’tIbeinfull-timeservice?).ButIkeptitatthetopandmovedontonumbertwo.Maybethislittleexercisewouldleadmetotheanswer.
2.Myfamily
Thisonewaseasy.Ifoundthispassionthedaywebroughtourfirstbabyhomefromthehospitalandbecameafamilyunit.IlayonthebednexttothemostperfectpinkbundleI’deverseen,andIknewinstantlythateverythingwasdifferent.AsI
smoothedthetinyrufflesonthedressherdaddyhadboughther,IvowedtobethebestmotherIcouldpossiblybe.Iwouldloveandcherishher,leadandprotecther—andthebabiesthatwouldcomeafterher—nomatterwhat.
Passionburstintoflameandcoloredeverylifedecisionafterward:wherewe
wouldlive,whatwewoulddo,whatkindsoffoodwe’deat,howwe’dspendourtimeandmoney.Parentingwasn’tahobbyorpassingfancy.Ittookcenterstageasapassionworthpursuing,eventhroughthesetbacks(likeforgettingtopickupakidfromschoolonhisfirstdayofsixthgrade,losingpatiencewithwhining
toddlersandteenagers,andwantingtorunoutthedoorattimes).
Deepinmyheart,Iwantedtomakeourhomeanunforgettableplace.Aplacethatwouldgroundourkidsforlife,makethemfeelloved,andgivethemasenseofbelonging.Iwantedourhomeandfamily,howeverimperfect,tobeasanctuary.
3.Creating—makingartandstuff
(Idecoratedthispointwithdoodlesforemphasis,andalsobecauseIdoodlewhenIthinkhard.)
AndhereiswhereFlash’spursuitofhispassionreallyspoketome.Itwasonthelevelofthatoutsidecircle
usedintheoverheadprojectorimage,thatpartofmethatlookedbeyondthe“donedeals”offaithandfamilyandwonderedaboutthingslikeinterestsandpurposeand,Idon’tknow,experiencingjoy.Ithoughtbacktoseventhgrade,whenmyjourneytodiscoveringa
passionforcreatingartdiedasuddendeathbeforeitevenhadachancetolive.
Itwasmyfirstdayofartclass—theelectiveI’dbeenwaitingforeversinceseeingthethrownpotteryjugs,papier-mâchéfigures,andcharcoalstilllifesondisplay
inthehallwaysofmyjuniorhigh.“MakeArt,”saidthesignabovethem,andIknewinmyheartthatIwasborntodojustthat.I’dalwayslovedcolorsandnatureandcrayonsandglue.TothinkIwouldfinallygettotakearealartclass!Ihadalreadypicturedablueribbonhangingfromone
ofmypaintingsinthehallwayandawrite-upintheschoolnewspaper.
Weperchedonstools,oureaselsarrangedinasquarefacingatableinthecenteroftheroom.Alargeclayvasewasplacedonthetable.Wewereinstructedtopickupourpencilsanddrawthe
containerwithoutlookingatthepapersecuredtooureasels.
“Thisiscalledblindcontourdrawing,”saidMr.Hastings,theartteacher.“Itisessentialtoeverythingelsewewilllearninthisclass.Begin.”Heabruptlysatdownathisdesk,openedabook,andleftustoourwork.
Alltheotherkidsbroughttheirpencilsupandbegantodraw,steadfastlystaringatthevasewithoutglancingattheirpapers.Iheardthesoundofcharcoalpointsonmanila,stoollegssqueakingonindustrialtilefloors,thetickingofthelargeclockabovethedoor.AndIfroze.Thevaseswambeforeme.Myheartbegantopound,and
Ifeltmyskinstarttoflush.MyhandshookasIlookedatthelipofthevaseandtriedtomakemyhandfollowitssimpleshape.
ButIcouldn’thelpit:Ipeekedatthepaperbeneathmypencilandwasappalledatthemisshapenformburgeoningthere.Ierasedandstartedover,butthehorrificmesswasstillvisible,
nowhalf-smearedandhalf-erased.Walkingtothesupplyareafornewpaper,Inoticedtheincrediblesuccessmyclassmateswereenjoyingintheirveryfirstattempts.
Twicemoretothesupplycabinetforfreshpaper.Stillamess.Astheothersbegantofinishtheirmasterpiecesonebyone,theclassroomchattergotlouderandmore
distractinguntilIsimplygaveuptryingtoconcentrateandpretendedtojoininthebanter.
Thebellrang,andtheroomemptied.IgatheredmybooksandstoodnexttoMr.Hastings’desk.PerhapsifIcouldgetalittlehelp,oratleastaquickpointer,I’dbeabletofigureitout.Ilookedatthecollagesdisplayedjust
overhisshoulderandcouldn’twaittomoveontothose!Thewaythecolorsandshapesmeldedtogethertocreatespectacularscenesmademepracticallygiddywithexcitement.Butfirst,Ineededassistance.
“Younglady,”Mr.Hastingssaidashescowledatmeoverhisglassesinresponsetomyrequest,“if
youcan’tdothisfirstsimplelesson,thenIsuggestyoudroptheclass.Youhavenobusinessbeinghere.”
Ifeltmyheartdropintomyshoes.Embarrassed,ashamed.Mortifiedbyhisindifferentjudgment.“But,I...”Istammered,buthewasalreadybacktoreading,theconversationfinished.Icouldfeelmyeyesfillupandthe
roomtilt.Withonelast,longingglanceatthecollages,Iclosedthedoor—notjustontheclass,butonanythingcreative.Anythingartsy.Certainlyanythinginvolvingpencilandpaper.Hewasright:Ihadnobusinessbeingthere.IwasafailurebeforeIhadevenstarted.Iwascrushed.
Thevividdetailsofthatmoment,downtothesmellsofoilpaints,turpentine,andpotteryslurry,becamefixedinmymemory.Ilearnedtoavoidcreativeprojectsofanykind—andIwatchedfromthesidelinesasclassmatesmadescenicsetsforplays,historydioramas,andcoolcollages.Iwouldinsteadfocusmyattentiononhomeec,which
itturnedoutIwasalsoterribleat.ButitwastheelectiveItookinplaceofart—sopractical,sosensible—andIwouldnotpickupapaintbrushuntilIwaswellintomythirties.
HowIwishnowthatMr.Hastingshadtakenjustthreeminutesofhistimetoencouragemetostickwithit.Totellmethatthewhole
pointoftheexercisewasnotperfection,butpractice.Togentlysay,“Iseeyouhaveahungerformakingthings.Letmeshowyouwhatyoucando.”
Ittookmemorethantwodecadestorediscovermychildhoodpassionandreachaconclusionthathecouldhaveeasilypointedoutinthosemomentsafterclass.“Make
Art”meanssomuchmorethanblindcontourdrawing.Itmeans“CreateSomethingBeautiful.”Therearehundredsofformsofart—mostofwhichdon’trequirepencilandpaper—andunlimitedwaystocreatemeaningful,beautifulthingsthatpeoplewillappreciateandtreasure.ButIdidn’t
knowthat,couldn’tknowthat,becausethedoorwasclosedtomethatday.
Ilostsomethingimportantinonesinglemoment.Abudding,vibrantlightwassnuffedout.Andittookthreekids,anoverworkedhusband,andadesperatedesiretofindsomethingIcouldenjoyformetofinditagain.Isignedupforatolepaintingclassin
alocalcraftstore,simplyasawaytogetoutofthehouseforacoupleofhoursaweek.Butwithonedipofthebrushintopaint,somethinginmysoulsparkedbacktolife.
AndsoIhadfoundathirdpassion:“CreatingSomethingBeautiful.”OrasIlikedtocallit,“MakingArtandStuff.”Itwaslikecominghome.Ididn’tplanontrying
tomakeacareeroutofit.IjustneededtoholdthingsinmyhandsthatIhadmade.ThatIhaddecorated.ThatIhadmadebeautiful.
Anditwaswondrous.
Whew.Itookabreakfromallthatthinkingandwenttothebarn.Flashstoodunderthe
shadeoftheslopingrooflikeadonkeystatue.Perfectlystill,exceptfortheoccasionalswishofthatwispytail.Hiseyeswerehalf-closedandhisearsdroopeddownward,indicatingthatitwasnaptime,nodoubthisthirdoftheday.
Withaclickofmytongue,hisheadcameupandhisnostrilsbegantowork.
Earsturnedforward.Henickeredsoftly.Flashwaitedformyapproach,thenslowlyrubbedhisheadonmeasIreachedaroundtoscratchthewarmpatchunderneathhismane.Thescabsfromthebarbedwirewerestillvisible,remindersofhisdedicatedquestthroughfencesforhis
mare.Icouldseewhyshe’dcomearoundandfallenforhim!
Passionislikeamagneticforcethatdrawsothersin.Itsenergynotonlycompelsyoutoactbutalsoelicitsaresponsefromeverythingaroundyou.IpulledafewburrsfromFlash’smaneandlookedintohisbrowneyes,stillsleepyfromhis
interruptednap.Hedidn’texactlylooklikeamagneticforceatthemoment,butitwaslikeheknew.Hisdeterminationspokevolumes,anditmademestarttofiltermyscatteredthoughtsintosomethingconcrete.Somethingthatmadesenseandfeltright.
Therewasonelastthingtoaddtomylist,butIdidn’tknowquitehowtowordit:
4.Helpingothersfindandcreatesanctuary
Istartedtorealizethatmystruggletofindpeaceandbeautyinthemiddleofallmybusynesswasn’tuniqueto
me.OtherscravedthesamethingsIdid.ItseemedlikeeachprojectTomandIworkedonhadanunderlyingtheme—tocreateasenseofsanctuaryforourclientsthroughartanddesign.Buttherewasmoretoitthanthat.SometimeswecouldseethatartanddesignwerecosmeticBand-Aidsfordeeperproblems:dysfunctional
familystructures,unbalancedvaluesystems,toomanyactivities,maxed-outfinances.
Youseeawholelotwhenyou’reindozensanddozensofhomesforextendedperiodsoftime,andsomeofitisheartbreaking.Youseethataprettymuralcan’tfixabrokenmarriage,orpreventachingloneliness,orhelp
someonesleepbetteratnight.AndIwonderedif,inaroundaboutway,Godhadputapassionforbeautyinmyheartforagreaterpurpose.Morethanjustpayingthebills.Morethanjustacreativeoutlet.Morethanjustmakingprettythings.
Butforsomethingeternal.
EricLiddell,theOlympianwhoinspiredthemovieChariotsofFire,saysinthefilm,“Godmademefast.AndwhenIrun,IfeelHispleasure.”IoftenfeltasenseofGod’spleasurewhenIpainted,orwhenIbegantowritemythoughtsdownonpaperandsawbeautyunfoldinmywords.Therewasamantleofpeaceand
satisfactionthatwarmedmedowntomytoesandcausedmetowakeupeachmorningeagertogetgoing,excitedtoseewhatthedaywouldhold.I’dbeguntoseethatIwasmadetocreatethings,andthatdoingsowasanextensionofGod’sowncharacterflowingthroughme.FeelingGod’spleasureinsuchasimplewaymademe
wanttoshareitwithothers.Myloveforartwas
quietlybirthingaloveforpeople.
“Findyourpassion.”Thescribbledwordsweremorethanaworthygoal.Icouldnothaveknown,inmytwentiesoreveninmythirties,howpassionwouldfindmeinstead.Sometimesittakesacircuitousroute,back
toyourchildhood,torememberwhatbroughtyoujoy—beforeanyonetoldyouthatyoucouldn’tdoit,orthatyouweren’tgoodenough,orthatitwasn’tpractical.Beforethatvoiceinyourheadtoldyoutoclosethedoorandtakehomeeconomicsinstead.
Sometimesyoubumpintoyourpassionwhenyou’relookingforsomethingelse,andsuddenlyitallbecomesclearwhenyoufeelGod’spleasureasyoucreateorgiveorlearn.Andsometimesyoujusthavetobreakdownsomefencesandbustsomegatesofftheirhingesinordertocatchtheprizeontheotherside.Andwhenyoudo,you
realizethatdiscoveringyourpassionisn’tanendinitself,butthekey.
Thekeytofindingyourpurpose.
Findyourpassion.Passionleadstopurpose.
Istoodoutsidethestatelydooroftheagingmansionandpushedthebell.ThefaintsoundofWestminsterchimesfilteredthroughthepanesofthesidewindows.Longestdoorchimeever.Idon’tknowhowpeoplestandit.“Justaminute,”cameavoiceontheothersideofthedoor.The
ladyofthehousejiggledthehandleupanddownasshestruggledtounlockit.
Thewaitgavemeachancetotakeabreathandcollectmyselfbeforemeetingthisprospectivecustomer.Ipulledmyblazerdowntostraightenitandshookmybangsoutofmyeyes.Inhale.Nowexhale.OurprojectwithBridgetteandStevehadledto
furtherworkatthecorporatesite,butithadrecentlyended.NowIneededtofillourscheduleonceagain.SohereIwas.
Itookstockofmysurroundings.Thehome,whichhadbeenfeaturedindesignmagazinesinthe1970s,wasonceashowstopperinthemidstoftheold-moneyedpartofFort
Worth.Butfortyyearshadtakentheirtoll,andtheoldgirllookedunfashionablyshabbynexttothesprawlingnewmansionsthatweregoinginnearby.
Peelingpaintonthewooddoorandtrim,alongwithsaggingguttersalongtheroofline,madethehouselooktired,andeventhestiffboxwoodhedgesfeltoutof
touchwithmodernstyle.Still,thiswasexactlythetypeofneighborhoodwelikedtoworkin:Ithadpeoplewhoappreciatedfinethings—andwhohadmoneytospend.
Thedesigneronthisproject,whohadputusintouchwiththehomeowner,wasnewtome.I’dnevermethimbefore,butIappreciatedthathe’dseenourwork
somewhereandfeltwewouldbeagoodfitforhisclients.Heexplainedtheywereintheprocessofupdatingtheirhomeandneededustoprovidesomebeautifulfinishesforthekitchencabinetry.“Theremightalsobeafewminorrepairs,”hesaid.Andthenhe’dhungup
abruptlyaftergivingmetheaddress.Alittleodd,buthey,Iwasn’tcomplaining.
Irentedashinynewcar,impressiveenoughtobefitthesalescall.
“Hereweare!”saidthelady,finallythrowingthedooropen,releasingasmoke-filledhazeintotheoutsideair.“Watchyourstep.”Shepressedherslipperedfoot
overthethresholdtokeepitfrompoppingupandtookapuffofherlipstick-stainedcigarette.Itwasdifficulttotellherage,butIguessed,oh,mid-seventies,withalittlebitofworkdonetoputhersquarelyinherlatesixties.“Wehadaguyworkingonthisdoor,andhenevercamebacktofinish.”Sheshookher
headdisgustedly.“Youjustcan’tdependonpeopleanymore.”
“Iknow,peoplethesedays,right?”Inoddedsympatheticallyandfollowedherintothedimentryway.Shescoopedupherblack-and-whiteshihtzu,whowasbarkingandbaringtinywhite
fangsatmeinwelcome,andpulledhiminclosetoherflowinghousedress.
“Now,beforewegettothosecabinets,Iwantyoutotakealookatthiswater-damagedwallandgivemeabidonfixingit,thenpaintingamuraloverthefixtodisguiseit.”
Iheardhersaythis,butIcouldbarelytearmyeyesawayfromthesceneinfrontofme.Amultitudeofbears—scoresandscoresofcollectibleteddybears—linedeverywall,step,pieceoffurniture,andbookshelf.Bearsinweddingdresses,bearsinoveralls,bearsreadingbooks,bigbears,littlebears,bearsinrocking
chairs,bearsinfrillyVictorianoutfits,bearswithmonocles,bearswithbabybears.Bearsandmorebears.Itwasaveritablebearbonanza.
“Icollectbears,”theladysaidmodestly,pressingherjet-blackhairintoitselaborateupdo.“AndmodernAsianart,aswellascommemorativeplates.And
anythingwithelephantsonit.”Shemotioned,spokesmodelstyle,tothesunkenlivingroom,wherehercollectionsweredisplayedinmassive,ridiculousvignettesofuttertastelessness.ItwasasiftheHomeShoppingNetworkhadunloadedallofitsunclaimedmerchandiserightthere.Ifelt
aninvoluntarylaughabouttoerupt,butIremainedprofessional.
“Lovely,justlovely.Almosttakesyourbreathaway.”Ibusilypulledoutmymeasuringtapeandgottowork.Allthoseglassybeareyeswatching,watching.Myneckprickled.AndIknewinstinctively,evenasImeasured,thatsheonly
wantedapricefrommeanddidnotplantohaveusfixthewallorpaintamuraloveritatall.Tirekicker.Youlearntorecognizethemquickly.Peoplewhodon’tcarethatittakeshourstolookateachproject,comeupwithasolution,createadesignandasketch,thenpresentabid...allwithoutthemever
planningtopurchasefromyou.NotthatImind—I’mjustsaying.
Wemadeourwaytothekitchen,wheretomysurprisethecabinetrywasfreshlyfinishedwithaCountryFrench,antiquedtreatment.“Youwanttochangethis?”Iasked.
“No,justfixit,”shereplied.Shepointedtoaverysmallareanearthesinkthatneededattention.“Ikeepcallingthepaintertocomeoutandfinishthis,andI’vejustgivenup.Obviously,heisnotaverydependableperson.”Shelaunchedintoaconspiratorialrantabouthowdifficultitwastogetanyonetodoagoodjob,theway
thingsusedtobedone,and
howterribleitwasthatnooneevenansweredtheirphonesanymore.
“I’llhavetoprepthewoodandmatchthepaint,”Isaid,interruptingherlengthyremarksandstartingtofeeljustateenybitputoutfordrivingallthiswaytobidonsuchaminorrepair.“It’saverysmallarea,butitwon’t
beeasytogetittolookperfect.”I’dhavetorecoupmytimesomehow.
“Iknowyoucandoit,”saidthehomeowner.“Ijustcan’ttrustanyoneelse.”Thecigaretteglowed.“Now,youneedtoseetheguestbathandtellmewhatyoucandointhere.Thewallpaperguydidn’tpulloffalltheoldpaperbeforehequit,andI
wonder—youcanjusttexturerightoveritandmakeitlookreallyluxurious,can’tyou?”Whatwasleftofthegoldwallpaper,withred-and-blackflocking,burnedmyeyeballswithitsgroovy’70spattern.Itwashardtothinkstraight.Perhapsthewallpaperguyhadbeenovercomewithnausea.
“Whatareyourideas?”shedemanded.Thedoginthecrookofherarmquiverednervouslywithacontinuousgrowl,chasingoffanycreativethoughtImighthavehad.Easynow,Fluffy.ButIgraciouslyspentthenextfifteenminutesdiscussingideaswithherfortheguestbathroom,whichIknewwasanothertirebeingkicked.
Myeyeballproblemwasgivingwaytoamassiveheadache,butthetourwasjustbeginning.Fromtheguestbath,wetrudgedthroughstrewnlaundrytothemasterbath,wheretheplumbershadlefttheirtoolsandeverything,presumablyforalunchbreak.Butthat
wastwoweeksago.Ibegantoseeapatternhere.Nooneevercomesback.
Mypoundinghead,theawfulfluorescentlights,hergravellyvoicegoingonandonabouttheplumbers...Izonedoutforamomentorfive,whichwasunfortunate,becauseIdidnotseetheothershihtzucoming,fullforce,toattackthebackof
myankle.Ack!Ishookhimoffandtriedtoactcasualaboutinspectingthebitemark.Bleeding!Areyoukiddingme?Thatwretchedlittledoghadpuncturedaveinwithhisneedleteeth.That’swhenIstoppedpretendingtosmileandjustgrittedmyteethfortheremainderofthetour.
Please,dearLord,makethisend.
ButGod,inHisinscrutablewisdom,wasclearlynotinterestedinswiftintervention.Hewasgoingtoleavemehanging.Ontowardthemasterbedroomwewent.IcouldhearchildrendownthehallsingingtheBarneythemesongandventuredsomesmalltalk.
“Oh,howsweet.ArethoseyourgrandchildrenIhear?”
“No,notgrandchildren,”saidmyhostess.Sheflungopenadoortoahugewalk-incloset.“Parrots.”
Threelargegraybirds,inthreeenormousdustycages,allbobbedtheirheads,theirbeadyeyesgluedtoaTVscreenandsingingwithreedy
voices,“Iloveyou,youloveme,we’reahap-pyfam-i-ly...”
“Theylovethisshow!”sheexclaimed.“Ikeepiton24-7,justforthem.”Ibrushedafloatingfeatherfrommynoseandinstantlyrealizedthatsomeonehadputdrugsinmydrive-throughcoffee,andIwashallucinatingthiswhole
thing.Suddenly,thesingingparrotsmadeperfectsense.Ofcourse.Thatfeatherwasn’tevenreal,wasit?Hysteriabubbledup,alongwithacoldsweat.Sothisiswhatitfeelsliketoloseit.Bu-whahahahaha!
IfIhadhadplumber’stools,Iwouldhavedroppedthemandrun,butinsteadIclutchedmyblacksatcheland
snappedmynotebookshut.Iturnedtomakemyexit,butbeforeIcouldmakeacleangetaway,shekeptthepartygoingwithonelastitem.
“Iwantyoutomeetmyhusband,”sheannounced,andlikealambtotheslaughter,allIcoulddowasfollowhelplesslytothenextroom.
“Frank!ThisisRachel!Frank!Thisistheartist!”mytourguideraspedasweburstthroughthedoor.Shroudedinbluecigarettesmoke,Frank,ashrunkenlittleman,satdeepintherecessesofafadedfloralcouch,hookeduptoanoxygentank.Thetankwasatoneknee,anashtrayontheother,justabovealargelegbandage.Heliftedhis
perfectlybaldheadingreetingandsputteredsomethingunintelligible,hiswordsdrownedoutbytheBarneychorusandbarkingshihtzus.Inthatinstant,IknewthatI,too,wouldnevercomeback.
“Ohmygoodness,lookatthetime!”Ipretendedtolookatmywatchandwheeledaround.Ilimpedback
throughthehouseonmyonegoodankle,draggingmybloodystumpbehindme,whiletheladyshuffledtokeepup,explainingtheproblemswithhomehealthcareinminutedetail.SomethingaboutFrank’slegwoundnothealingproperly,andwouldItakealookatit
andtellherwhatIthought.Mythoughtatthatmoment?Whyme?
Wemadeittothedoor.Finally!Butitwouldn’topen.SoIwaitedindesperationwhileshejiggledthedoorknobforafullminutebeforereleasingmefromthenetherworldofbearsanddisappearingworkers.
Air!Freshair!Myrentalcar!ItakebackeverythingIeversaidaboutfindingaquietloveforpeople.Myheartwasagiantholeofnothing.Exceptfear.
Andpossiblyhorror.IcalledTomtheminuteI
gotoutofthedriveway.“Wearegettingregular
jobs,”Isaidinnouncertainterms.“Youcannotbelieve
whatjusthappenedtome.”IlaidrubberontheroadasIpeeledontothefreeway.“Also,andI’mnotjoking,IthinkImayhavebeendrugged.”
Mydescriptionoftheeventtookmostofthedrivehome.WhenIfinallyarrived,ashowerremovedthestalesmokefrommyhair.The
clothescouldbelaundered.ButIcouldnotshakethenightmare.
Theproblemwas,weneededthemoney,andIknewwehadnochoicebuttogoback.We’dhavetoworkwithshriveled-upFrankandthesingingparrots,rabidshihtzus,andawfulsmoke.Andallthattalking!Myheadthrobbed.
Tomguidedmetothecouchandhandedmeasteamingcupoftea,alongwithasquareofdarkchocolate(withseasaltandcaramel—sohealing).“Havethis,”hesaid,“andthenlet’sgetyouintobed.Thereyougo,baby.”Ilookedatthisguywhoaftertwenty-fiveyearsofmarriageknewIneededtohearthat
everythingwasgoingtobeallright.“Wecanmanagewithoutthisjob,”helied.AndIlovedhimforit.
Isleptoffthedreadfulexperience(ordetoxed?—whatever),andwhenmorningcame,Tombroughtmecoffeeandhandedmemyshoes.
“Let’sgetGraysonofftoschoolandthengoforalittlewalk.”BynowMeghanwasincollege,anditwaseasytogetonekidoutthedoorwithasacklunch.Thiswasgood:Ineededeasy.
Theairhadjustahintoffallinit,andaslightbreezerustledthedrygrassesinthefieldaswetookeachother’shandandslippedoutside.
Neitherofusneededtosayanythinggrand,whichisoneoftheverybestthingsaboutbeingtogethersinceforever.
Weletourselvesthroughthegateandwalkedintothepasture,ourstepsinstinctivelytakingustooneofFlash’strails.Abouttwelveinchesinwidth,thepathwasperfectlygroomedbyhissetofhoovesandjust
wideenoughforsinglefile.Tomdroppedbackbehindme,ourfingersreleasing.
Thetrailmeanderedtowardthebarnalongthefencelineforfiftyyardsorsobeforedividingintotwo.Oneofthebranchesledontothebarn,whiletheotherangledoffacrossthefield.Wechosetheoneanglingoffandfolloweditaroundtowhereit
intersectedwithanotherofFlash’strails.Takingaright,weheadedthroughthebackpasturetowardthewoods,ourfeetstillfollowingthefurrowthatwascarvedthroughthegrassandtallweeds.
“I’llbetthisplacelookscrazyfromtheair!”Ishieldedmyeyesfromthemorningsunandlookedeastwardacrossthefield.Itwas
crisscrossedwithhispathsinsomekindofpatternonlyadonkeycouldmakesenseof.Eachcornerofthefieldwasconnectedbyatrail,withintersecting,veeringlinesgoingthiswayandthat.Nonewasstraight,buteachwaslikeagentlyundulating,dryriverbedcreatedbyhismoseyingwalkingstyle.
“Hardtobelievehecandoenoughploddingtokeepthesesowellmaintained,”Tomsaid,admiringFlash’sworkethic.“Look,thisonegoesfromthewoodstothebarn,withexitsincasehechangeshismind!”Themainarterieswerewellwornanddeep,buteventhesecondarypathslookedoftused.
WeglancedupjustintimetoseeFlashemergefromthewoods,wherehelovedtosleepatnight.Truetoform,heusedthemostdirecttrailroutetoreachus.Wewatchedhishoovesplod,plod,plodtowardusandsawthattheydraggedabitofdirtwitheachknock-kneedstep.
FlashcametoastopbyTom,nosinghispocketsforatreat.TomproducedaTicTacandpalmeditforFlash’ssoft,thicktonguetograb,andwelaughedwhenhedrooledatitsmintyness.Welistenedtohimcrunchit,thesoundechoinginthatbigoldhead.ThenIsighedandlookedatTom,notwantingtotalkaboutthatjobbutknowing
weprobablyshould.Iwantedtoquitthiswholething,soIsaidasmuch.
“Rachel,wearen’tgoingtotakethatproject,sostopworryingaboutit.We’llbefine.We’vealwayssaid‘Notallbusinessisgoodbusiness,’andthisisaperfectexample.Somethingelsewilltakeitsplace.You’llsee.”
TomthrewanarmaroundFlash’sneckandgavehisfriendagoodknucklerubonhisfuzzyforehead.ThedonkeyturnedhisheadintoTom’schestandvigorouslyrubbedupanddown,leavingadustyprintonhisdarkshirt.LookingoverFlash’searsatme,Tomcontinued.“Besides,nottobecornyoranything,butIthinkwejust
needtokeepploddingon.”“Oh,ha-ha-ha,”I
laughed,holdingmystomachinfeignedmirth.“Aren’tyouclever!”
“No,I’mserious.”Tom’ssmilebecameearnest.“Weneedtorememberthatwe’reinthisforthelonghaul,andthatthejourneyisjustasimportantasthedestination.Lookathowfarwe’vecome
andhowmanygoodthingshavehappenedalongtheway.Lookatourkids,andhowwe’relivingherenow,fightingforsomethingworthwhile.Lookatthefactthatwe’restandinginapasturewithadonkeyonaweekdaymorning,whiletherestoftheworldissittingintraffictogettotheirdeskjobs.Wearedoingsomething
welove.Yeah,we’vehadourinsanemoments,butIwouldn’ttradeanythingforwherewearerightnow.”
Ilookedaroundatallthosetrails,madeonesedatestepatatime,byadonkeywhoneverreallyseemedtopayattentiontowherehewasheaded,andIconsideredwhatTomhadsaid.Maybehehadapoint.
Plod,plod,plod.Thatwasexactlywhatweweredoing.Progresswassoslow.Itdidn’tappearlikewewereheadinganywhere.Successwasnowhereonthehorizon,andourtemposeemedtodrag.Butatleastweweremoving.Weweren’tsittingstill.Weweretakingsteps,forminghabits,creatinglanes.Andallthoselanes
wereintersecting,weaving,makingwayforlifetohappen.Itdidn’tallrestononejob.Hmmm.
Wewerewalkingnow,singlefileagain.Tom,me,Flash.YouneverreallyliketobetheonerightinfrontofFlashbecausehehasnoconceptofpersonalspace.Heputshisnoserightupbyyourbackandplayfullynibblesat
yourclothingasyoumovealong.Hereallyneedstoworkonthat.
JustasIarchedmybackinanticipationofhisnudge,Iheardhoovespausebehindme.IturnedintimetowatchFlashlowerhisnosetotheground.We’dwalkeddirectlythroughhisfavoriterollspot,wherehelovestobathehimselfindirt.It’sawide
circle,worncleanofgrassandweeds,rightdowntothesoft,loosesoilbeneath.
Flash’srollspots—hiddenjewelsinapasturecomprisedlargelyofTexasblacklandsoil(muchtooclumpy)andlimestonerock(notenoughdust)—arewellchosenfortheirqualityofsandydirt,
andheenjoystheritualofbathinginthemlikeyoucan’timagine.
Nowtrancelike,withhalf-closedeyesandflattenedears,hecircledseveraltimes,hismuzzleleavingagrooveinthefinesand.Hisfrontlegsseemedtobuckle,andwithadeepexhaleheloweredhimselftothegroundand
kickedupagiantplumeofdustwithhisbackfeetasherolledover.
Bellyup,herolledfromsidetosideinviolentmotionspunctuatedbygasandgroans.Herubbedhisbackintothegroundwithrelishandfinallycametoastopwithlegssplayedout,tailrapidlysweepingthedirt.Onemoreroll.Heheavedahappysigh
andlookedupatusoverhisdustmustache.Iwasreadytohearhimsay,“Thanksforwaiting,guys.Thatfeltgreat.”
Flashthrewhisfrontfeetforwardandpulledhimselfup,coveredindirtfromearstorump,justthewayhelikesit.Thelayerofdustwouldhelprepelthefliesandmosquitoesandprotecthim
fromthesun—importantquality-of-lifeissuesforcreatureswho,forobviousreasons,wouldhavedifficultyapplyingsunscreenorinsectspraybythemselves.
Wecontinuedonourway,finallystoppingatthewaterspigotnearthebarn,whereBeauwaswaitingforus.He’doptednottowalkwithhisrival,buthedidn’tseem
tomindthatwehaddoneso.“I’lltakeyouguystothehouse,”hisexpressionsaidashewaggedthetipofhistailatus.
WithhisshouldertoFlash,hisbodylanguageclearlyexcludedthedonkeyfromtheconversation.Thetwotag-teamedourwalks,passingusofflikebatons,withFlashtakingthepasture
zoneandBeauinchargeoftheyard.Howeverawkward,itseemedtoworkforthem.
Tomtoppedoffthebucketbeneaththefaucetwhilethesunwarmedthefourofus.IhadneverconsideredFlashtobeatrailblazer,eventhoughwe’dseenhimrunwithhorsesandromanceabeautifulmare.Hecertainlyhadexperienced
somebig,shiningmoments.Buthischaracteristicgaitwass.l.o.w.Hedidn’thurry,andheseemedtostepmethodically.Herarelyevenlookedupasheambled.
Anditdawnedonmethenthattherewassomethingimportantinhistrails.Theyweredailyeffortsthatcreatedstructureandmadepathwaysforotherstofollow.And
maybejustasnoteworthy,theyintertwinedtocreateanintricatepatternthatdidn’talwaysmakesensefromupclose,butcouldeasilybeseenfromanotherperspective.
Ididamentalflyover,imaginingmylifeasFlash’s.(Iwoulddefinitelydosomethingaboutthebuckteethandbig-ear
situation.)IlookeddownatmyownpathwaystoseeifIcouldfindanypatterns—anydefinitivetrailsthatIcouldidentify.
AtfirstglanceitlookedjustlikeFlash’shaphazardpasturelines,butasIpulledmylensbackfurther,Ibegantoseehowallthosethreadswereinterconnecting,moving,andweaving.Like
anunfinishedtapestry,withunravelededges,butwiththebeginningsofsomethingbeautifultakingshape.
IsawhowthepathofmychildhoodasthatawkwardmissionarykidhadledtoyoungadulthoodandBiblecollege.AndhowthepathofBiblecollegehadledtomeetingmyhusbandandthinkingwewouldbe
courageoushumanitariansinsomefar-offcorneroftheglobe.Astwentysomethings,wejustknewwewouldchangetheworldwithourzealanddedication.Jesusandusandthegospel!Butsomehowlifeandkidsandworkhadchangedthoseplans,andthetrailtookanunexpectedturn.
Forsomanyyearswefeltthatourpathwas“lessthan”thoseofmorededicatedservants,whogaveitalltofollowhighercallings.Whilewelivedinsuburbiaandenjoyedtheeverydayluxuriesofrunningwater,flushingtoilets,andWalmart,theywereputtingtheirlivesonthelineingrasshutssomewhere.Arewedoingenough?Arewe
sellouts?Areweselfishtopursueadreamthatusesourcreativegifts?Wekepttreading.Diapers,Sundayschool,work,offeringplate.
Faithhadoftenbeenpresentedasaneither-orproposition:Eitheryouarea100percentwillingvesselorahalfheartedchurchattendee.Aministerorapewsitter.Adoeroraspectator.Anon-
firezealotorapallidChristian.Therewasn’tmuchmiddlegroundtospeakof.Ittookyearsofploddingtorealizethattherewas,afterall,aplaceforus,anditwasnotinamanufacturedstateofguilt,butinagrace-filledspacewithinHiscare.
Faith,welearned,isnotanoccupation,butalifestyle.Itisamatteroftheheartthat
encompasseseverything.Stepbyfalteringstep,wehadmadeatrailfromthewoodstothebarn,fromhyperactivedutytogenuineworship.Circlingaroundandcomingback.Fromwork...tograce...tooffering.
Makingdinner,takingkidstopianolessons,changingtheoil.FindingthatGodisinourworkandour
playandourfamily.InourhockeygamesandBiblestudies,ourbedtimeprayersanderrands.Heisinoursketchesandpaintbrushesanddreams.Heisinourshowingupeachdayandlacingupourshoesandbeingfullypresentinwhateversituationswefindourselves.Heisinourverybreaths.
Walking,stepping,plodding.Doingthenextthing.
Fromtheweightofthinkingweneededtohavealltheanswersinourzealousyouth,tothedarknessofhavingnone—notasingleone—inourmomentsofdespair.LikewhenwelostCollin.Orwhenwehadto
choosewhichbillstopay.Gettinglost,andfeelingourway.
Andoneday,wakinguptoembracethefreedomofthemystery.Savoringthenotknowing.Restinginfaith.BeinginaweofaGodwhoseesandknows,andwhowaits.Itallhappensinsuchincrementalmoments,asyouworkoutyourlifeintosome
kindofreflectionofHiminyoureverydayworld.Youaremakingtrails,evenwhenyoudon’tknowquitewhereyouareheading.
Andallthetangledknots,thehardplacesofyourjourney,becomedotsonthemap.Theyareinterspersedwiththestretchesofplains,themountains,andthejoyousmilestones,allofitcoursing
intoamagnificentpatternborneofslowstepsanddeterminedfeet.
Eachmarkerholdsitsstory.“Rememberthattime?”yousay,andyoulaughorfadeoffintoquietreverie,retracingyourstepsandshakingyourhead.Youseehoweachplaceyoumarkmakeswayforanewtrailtobeblazed.Yes,someofthe
trailspeterout,andyouhavetobackupandstartover.Someofthemareeasierthanothers.Andsomedon’tmakeanysenseatall,atleastfromyourperspective.Thepointis,youaremoving.Notstandingstill.Youareputtingonefootinfrontoftheother,andasyoudo,somehow...Godisthere.
Step,step,plod,step.
Heputspeopleinyourpath—likePriscilla,whoenteredmylifewithaphonecallinquiringaboutanurserymural,andwhoneverleft.Withherendlessencouragementandgenerousfriendship,shechangedmycourseforever.“Wanttoseeamovie?”she’dask,anditwaslikealifelinewhenIwasmostlonely.
AndBridgette.OurSouthernbelleneighbor,whowasevergrowingonmewithher“Wellhi,y’all”sandherdeliciousgumbothatsometimesarrivedoutsideourfrontdooralongwithakindnote.ShestillcalledFlashTHATNAME,butitbotheredmelessandlessthesedays.
Trailmarkers,northernstars.
Psalm32:8says,“Iwillguideyoualongthebestpathwayforyourlife.Iwilladviseyouandwatchoveryou.”HowincredibletoknowthatHishandisleadingandHiseyeiswatchingoverus.AndProverbs16:9states,
“Wecanmakeourplans,buttheLORDdeterminesoursteps.”
AsIwaitedforFlash’sbuckettofill,IrememberedthetimeIwasatChick-fil-AwithGraysononaparticularlystressfulday.We’djustleftadentistappointmentthattookforeverandcostsomeexorbitantsum,andIwasinahurryto
getbacktoworktomakeuplosttime.Iswungintothedrive-throughlaneandplacedourorderforlife-sustainingchickennuggets,wafflefries,andsweettea.Theyoungladyontheothersideoftheintercomwasincrediblypolite,andIwasevenmoreimpressedwithherwhenwereachedthewindow.Shetookmymoney,gaveusourfood,
toldmeitwasapleasuretoserveus...allwhileemployingsuchintentionaleyecontactwithmethatImadeparticularnoteofittoGrayson.
“See,nowthatishowteenagersshouldinteractwithadults.Makingeyecontactissoimportant!Ihopeyou’llremembertodothat,Gray.You’llgofarinlifeifyou
do.”Hey,youcan’tletateachablemomentgotowaste.
AsIhandedGraysonhisfood,Ihappenedtocatchaglimpseofmyselfintherearviewmirror.What?SuddenlyIknewexactlywhythegirlatthewindowhadlookedatmesointently.Theleftlensofmysunglasseshad
fallenout—I’dbeentalkingtoherwithonlyonetintedlens!
“Goodgrief,Grayson!HowlonghaveIbeendrivingaroundlikethis?”Idemandedofmyson,whosemouthwasalreadystuffedwithwafflefries.Ipointedatmymissinglensandglaredathim.Throughhischipmunkcheeks,hemumbled
somethingaboutnotbeingabletoseethatsideofmyheadfromthepassengerseat.Glancingover,henearlychokedashespitoutthefriesandhowledinlaughter.Notashredofcompassion,thatkid.
HowcouldInothavenoticedthatIwasmissingalens?HowcouldInot“see”somethingsoconspicuous?IrealizedlaterthatIwasjust
tooclosetothesituation—literally.(Itdidn’thelpthatIwasdistractedandworriedatthetime.)Butmymismatchedlenseswereonlytooobvioustosomeonelookingfromanotherperspective.Lookingoutfrommybrokenviewpointdidn’trevealthetruth;itwasonlyfromadistancethatrealitywasclearlyseen.
Iwondered,howoftendowefailtoseethebigpicture?Howoftendowelookatpresentcircumstancesandmakedecisionsbasedonwhatweseeandfeeltoday?Weforgetthatit’sinthewalking,inthedailytasks,thattheworkofgracegetsdone.Sometimeswejusthavetostepbackinordertoseeit.
Flash’scoarsehairalongthecrossonhisbackalreadyfelthotinthemorningsun.Heplungedhislipsintothecoolwateranddrankdeeplyfromthefullblackbucket.Hissturdyneckrippledwitheachswallow,hisnostrilsopeningwide,thenclosing.Hefinallybroughthisheadup,waterdribblingfromthecornersofhismouth,and
lookedatme.Throughlongeyelashes,hisdarklyrimmedeyesheldmygaze.Heblinkedandbroughthiswetnoseuptomyfacetosniffmycheek.
Inthatmoment,Iwasfilledwithgratitudeforthishomelessdonkeyandforallhiscrazytrails.AndIthankedGodforallthetimesduringmyjourneythatI’dbegged
forrescue,forchange,forintervention—andGodinHisinscrutablewisdomhadleftmejustwhereIwas.
Becauseitwasinthewaiting,andthewondering,andtheploddingthatIhadtodothemosttrusting.Andfoundthemostgrace.
Youcan’talwaysseethedestination,butperseverancewilltakeyouthere.
Heiswithyoueachstepoftheway.
Always.
Beatrailblazer.Persistencemakespathwaysforgracetofollow.
CanIgetyouacupofcoffee?No?Howaboutsomelemonade?It’ssugar-free.”Bridgetteusheredmeintoherultrastylishhomeofficeforadesignmeeting,butfirst,herSouthernhospitalitytookover.Sheadjustedtheroundglassesonhernoseandsmiled.“Youjustsetrighthereandletmegetyou
something.”Bridgettesaid“here,”like“heeah,”whichalwaysmademesmile.
“No,thankyou.I’mfine.”Ideclinedtherefreshmentandsatdown.MyMidwesternsensibilitiesandNorwegianrootsrequiredmetorefuseallfirstandsecondoffers,onaccountofthat’showwedoit.Itgoesagainstourstoicgraintoputanyone
out.Wedon’twanttobeabother.Really,wedon’t.Wecouldn’t.
Unless,ofcourse,theymakeathirdoffer.
Thenwecanconsiderit.“Water,then?It’sno
trouble,”Bridgetteinsisted.“Butthelemonadeisdelicious,andI’vealreadygotitmade.”Thepitcherwashoveringovertheglass,
Bridgette’seyesonme,awaitingmyresponse.Iwasnomatchforthis“steelmagnolia”andgavein.
“Well,sinceyou’vealreadymadeit...”Graciousacceptancewasmyonlyrecourseinthissituation.Shepoureditoverice(again,toomuchtrouble,butshealready
hadiceout)andsettheglassdownonacoasterinfrontofme.
“Howaboutsomecheeseandcrackers?”IcouldseethatBridgettewasgoingtomakethisdifficult.
“Ohthankyou,but,no.Ijusthadalatelunchandcouldn’teatabite.”Iheldmyhandupinpoliterefusal.Butshewasalreadybringinga
smalltraywithanarrayofcheeses,aselectionofcrackers,andclustersofgrapes.
“You’vesimplygottotrythisBrie,”Bridgettesaid.Inoticedthatitwastoppedwithsomekindofraspberrymarmalade,oozingdownthesidesinadecadentdisplayofepicureangoodness.Thisladydidn’tplayfair.
“Ohmy.That’stooprettytoeat.ImightneedtojustInstagramitinstead.”Icouldfeelmymouthwatering.Raspberriesaremyfavorite.Alsoanykindofcheese.
Bridgettetookacrackeranddippeditintothesoftwedgetotemptme.“It’sfromCostco,andwebought
somuch,morethanSteveandIcouldpossiblyeat.Pleasehelpuseatsomeofitup!”
AsIthoughtaboutit,lunchwasseveralhoursago,anditonlymadesensetohaveanafternoonsnack.Andshe’dgonetoallthisworktoputthetraytogether.
“Ireallyshouldn’t.”Iwasstillreluctantbuthatedtoinsultherhospitality.“I’lljust
haveoneortwobites.”Heavenly.Shehadso
muchofit,maybethreeorfourbites,orten,wouldtakesomeoffherhands.ItwastheleastIcoulddo.
IdecidedthatonlyclassypeoplehappentohaveBrie(andgourmetmarmalade)onhandforlast-minutemeetings.BridgettesomehowmademefeellikeIwasdoing
herafavorbyeatingasmuchasIcould.Idon’tknowifSouthernwomengotoschooltomastertheartofpersuasionorwhat,butshehadasummacumlaudedegreeinit.Icouldlearnsomethingfromher.
BridgettehadanewclientwhoneededartworkinhisluxurycondoindowntownDallas,andshewantedtogo
overthedesignplanforthewholespacebeforewewerescheduledtogotothelocationtogetherlaterintheweek.
IsippedmylemonadeasItookoutanotepadandstartedlookingatthepaintandfabricswatchesshehadchosenwhilepiped-inmusicdriftedthroughtheeclecticofficethatlookedpartdowntown
loft,partTexascountry,andparturbanrenewal.Galvanizedmetalblendedseamlesslywithstainedconcretefloors,modernlighting,sleekworkspaces,andwell-chosenantiques.Ilovedtheoldwroughtironstairrailandslidingbarndoor.Fabuloustouches.Alibraryofarchitecturalbooksandsamplesfilledanentire
wall,andamassivebankconferencetable,usedmainlyforPing-Pong,heldcenterstage.Youcouldn’thelpbutadmirethepanachewithwhichBridgetteandStevemergedtheirworkandhomelives.
Overthemonthsofworkingtogetheronvariousprojects,IhadcometoappreciateBridgette’stalent
forseeingpossibilitiesineverything.Oh,she’sverygood.Caseinpointwasthisoffice.SheandStevehadrecentlyboughtthepropertythatFlash’scowfriendshadlivedonandmovedfromthecottagenearusintoabarn.Seriously,whomovesintoacowbarn?Well,onlypeoplewhocanreimagine,repurpose,andreuseanything
andeverythingtoconvertitintoanincrediblehomeandofficespace.Whatwasoncejustabigmetalstructurehadbecomeafunctionalandinvitinglivingandworkingenvironmentthatanyonewouldenvy.
ItwasnowonderBridgettewassuccessful.Icouldseethatnow.Shecouldtakeanyolditemandmakeit
intoartorafunctionalpieceoffurniture.SheandStevecoulddesignawholebuildingonthebackofanapkin.Italmostmademesick,butIwascomfortedbythefactthattheylovedwhatwecouldbringtotheirprojectsartistically.Andasitturnedout,weworkedwelltogether.
“Say,haveyouseenhowbigthedarkmarenextdoorisgetting?”Bridgettefinishedfussingovertherefreshmentsandpulledupachair.“Whendoyouthinkherbabyisdue?”
“Ihavenoclue,”Isaid.“Butherbellyishuge!Itlookslikeshemightexplodeanyday.”
Itwastrue.Maria,thebeautifulebonyhorsethatFlashhadcrashedthroughfencesandgatesfor,wasdefinitelyexpectingafoal.Therecouldbenodoubt.Wewatchedhergirthexpandfromweektoweekasshewentfromsleekvixentobigmama.Nolongertrottingaroundthepasturewithherbandoffriends,shenow
lumberedslowly,asifmindfulofthenewlifeinsideher.
Flashhadnotmadeanymoreattemptstobreakout,buthelingereddailynearthebackgateandnuzzledwithherwhenhecould.Itwasasweetsight,butboy,wehopedhewasnotthepartyresponsibleforherballooningweightandthickankles.The
bandofhorsesinthepastureincludedtwostallions,sochancesweregoodthathewasoffthehookonthisone.
“AnyideaifHay-soosisthefather?”Bridgetteshotmeawink.She’dheardaboutFlash’srendezvouswiththecutie,anditwassomethingofafamousjokebynow.
“Bridgette,youdoknowhisnameisFlash,don’tyou?”Ilaughed.Thishadgoneonlongenough.
“OfcourseIdo,butthat’sjustmylil’petnameforhim.”Doggoneit,shelookedsosincere,Icouldn’tbemadaboutitanymore.Besides,itreallydidn’tmatterwhatshecalledhim.Itonlymatteredwhoownedhim,right?He
belongedtome,sowhatdifferencediditmake?Nonewhatsoever.ThisconversationwasfareasierthanIhadthoughtitwouldbe.WhyhadIfeareditsomuch?MaybeIwasgrowingorsomething.
“Fromthesizeofher,I’dsayit’smorelikelythatoneofthosebigstallionsoverthereisthestud,”Isaid.“I
surehopeso.Thelastthingweneedisacustodysituation.”Witheachdaythatpassed,Iworriedthatourneighborwouldshowupwithpapersandapaternitysuit.He’dprobablyhavethesheriffswithhimandeverything.Please,Lord,letthisfoalbeahorseandnotamule.
“You’dbetterkeepyourfingerscrossed,”Bridgettecautionedwithasmile.
“Believeme,Iam.Anyway,we’replanningtohaveFlash‘fixed,’soweshouldbeabletoputthisbehindus.”IgrimacedatthethoughtoftheimpendingoperationasIpickedupmypenandnotebook.
Wefocusedonthebusinessathand.Ilookedattheplansandtooknotes,squintingmyeyesandstaringoffintothedistanceasIimaginedtheoptionsforthespace.Thebiggestchallengewastocreateanartpieceusingaspecificshadeofbrownforatwenty-foot-highwall.Becauseelevatorsandhallwayswouldinterruptthe
space,somethingonsuchamassivescalewouldneedtobeinstalledinpieces,yetfeelseamless.Betweenthetwoofus,wehadmadeagoodstartontheoverallproject.ButIknewitwouldtakeareallyspecialideafortheowneroftheluxuryapartmenttosay,“Wow!That’sperfect!”
Afterourmeeting,Iwalkedhome,afloweringperennialfromBridgette’sgardenperchedatopmystackofsamples.Notabadcommute,whentheonlyothertrafficiscottontailrabbitswhoscurryoutoftheway.
Isteppedcarefullyoverthecattleguardbetweenourproperties,andFlashmetme
bythegatepost.“Heythere,DonkeyBoy.”Isetmythingsdownandreachedouttoscratchunderhisscruffychin,workingmywayuphisfacetohisears.Dustfromhislastdirtbathwaftedupintotheairandsettledbackdown.“Sowhat’sthatbabygonnabe,huh?”Iaskedhim,buthedidn’tsay.Instead,heturnedhisbodyarounduntilhisrear
endwasfacingme,andthenbackedupsoIcouldn’tmisshisrump.
“Nice,”Isaid.“Youwon’ttalktome,butyou’llletmescratchyourrear.Igetit.”Flashmightbeananimaloffewwords,buthecertainlyknowshowtocommunicatewhenhewantsto.Andheloveshavinghisbackside—theonlyplacehecan’treach
withhisteeth—rubbed.Heturnedtolookbackatme,witha“well-what-are-we-waiting-for”expression,andrelaxedhisbackhoofinanticipationofamassage.
SoIobliged,chucklingoutloudattheincongruityofstandinginafield,rubbingadustydonkey’sbacksideafterafancybusinessmeetingtodiscussaluxurycondodesign
overBrieandcrackers.Flashhadreallycomealongwaysincehefirstarrived,soscaredandbrokeninthoseearlydays.Ithoughtabouthowhehadn’twantedustotouchhim,howhehadshiedawaywhenwecametotendtohiswoundsandhadkeptawaryeyeoutforanysuddenmovement.
LookingoverFlash’shipstothefieldbeyond,IrememberedhowTomhadsetupthatcampchairinthemiddleofit.He’dbeensopatient,pretendingtoignoreFlashbyengrossinghimselfinabook,orby“bird-watching,”allthewhileallowingthedonkeytobecomeaccustomedtohispresence.Flashhadinched
hiswaycloserandcloser,fearingmistreatment,butreceivinginsteadgentlewordsandkindhandling.First,arubonhisnose.Then,ahandonhisneck.Hehadstood,trembling,asTomfelthiswaydownthecoarsehair,acrosshischestandoverhisshoulders.
Hisfearhadgraduallygivenwaytotrust,andherepaidTombybecominghisloyalcompanion.Hefollowedhimeverywhere,alwaysloiteringnearTom’sworkarea,curiousaboutanythinghedid.Affectionateandplayful,Flashlovedtoleanintohim,nibbleathiswaterbottle,andsniffhispockets.
Flashwouldhaveletmescratchhisbumallafternoon,butIhadotherthingstodo.Withafinaldustypatandahugaroundtheneck,Iheadedbacktothehouse.
“Here’swhatI’vecomeupwith,”IreportedtoTomafterseeingthecondolaterthat
week.“HowaboutaVenetianplasterfinishontwo-footsquarepanels,mountedinagridpatternoverthewholewall?WecoulduseastenciltechniquetoembosssomeLatinphrasesthatwouldrunupanddownthepanelstovisuallyconnectthem.”Ibelieveditsolvedeveryissuebeautifully,andIwasprettyproudofit.
“Hmmm...”Tomthoughtaboutitforafewmomentsandthensaidslowly,“Ithinkwecandobetter.”Hetookoutapieceofgraphpaper.“Iliketheideaofpanels,andifI’vedonethemathcorrectly,itwilltakeforty-fivesquarestocoverthatmassivewall.Butwhatifweembossindividualwordsthatdescribea‘LifeWell
Lived’oneachpanel?Toreallyknockitoutofthepark,wecoulduseadifferentlanguageforeachword,whichwouldreflectboththetravelsoftheclientandhisvalues.”
Yep,itwasbetter.Infact,itwasbrilliant.Wepresentedtheidea,andtheclientlovedit.
Withapprovalgrantedforthedesign,Tomperfectedtheplasterfinishtechnique,whileIresearchedwordstodescribeelementsofawell-livedlife.NowthisisthekindofartIadore,becauseitcombinestheaestheticwithameaningfulmessage.Itmademepauseandreflectonwhatawell-livedlifereallylookslike.
Isitaboutsuccess?Relationships?Experiences?Character?Faith?Whatwouldmakesomeonesayaboutanother,“Thispersonreallyknowshowtolivelifewell”?Theconceptforthearthadbeenasimpleone,really.ButitsprofoundquestionsresonatedwithmeasIponderedthecharacteristics
thathavemarkedhumanity’saspirationsthroughouthistory.
Intheend,weusedwordslikethese:
LoveHonestyFriendshipGenerosityKindnessFaith
PatienceGratitudePeaceHope
Eachelementoftheartpiecerequiredtime.Timetodecideonjusttherightword,timetotranslateitintoanotherlanguage,timetochooseafont,timetolayitout,timetoapplyittoeach
panel.IfoundthatwhenIhandledawordlikeloveorgratitudeorjoythatlong,Imeditatedonitthroughouttheday,evenwhenIwasn’tworkingonit.IfeltintentionalwithmyenergiesasIworked,talkedwiththekids,didlaundry,andboughtgroceries.
Canapersonhavejoywhilescrubbingatoilet?Canyouexperiencelovewhilespreadingpeanutbutteronasandwich?Gratitudewhenyourheadhitsthepillow?Iwasbeginningtothinkthatperhapslivingwell—inanycircumstance—mightbepossible,ifyourheartisintherightplace.
Thecondoprojectwouldtakeseveralweekstocomplete.BridgetteandIconferredregularlyandtookacoupleofshoppingexcursionstopurchasedecor.OurcommonmissionwassoenjoyablethatsometimesIevenforgotwewereworking.
Imagineme,laughingitupwiththeCEOofaprestigiousdesignfirm!Yetherewewere,havingaballdiggingthroughthriftshopsandantiquestoresaswesoughttreasuresforourclient’shome.
Oneday,Bridgettecalledwithsomeexcitingnews.
“Didyouseethenewfoal?”sheasked.“Ijustcaughtaglimpseofitoutmywindow!”
“No!”Iansweredbreathlessly.“It’shere?Whatdoesitlooklike?”ThenworriedlyIinquired,“Doesitlooklikeamule?”
“Icouldn’ttell.Itwasstayingprettyclosetoitsmama.”
Ithrewdownthephoneandranoutthedoor,grabbingGraysonbythearmasIpassedhiminthebreezeway.
“Thebaby!Maria’shadherbaby!”Ihuffed.
Nowoutside,weopenedthegateandtookoffacrossthefieldtowardthefence,withBeaujoiningintoseewhatthefusswasabout.We
arrivedatthebackgateandclimbedontothelowestcrosspiecetogetagoodview.Leaningforwardintothesunlight,wecouldseethehorsesgrazingmidfield.Ispottedlittlelegshiddenbehindtheblackmareasshenibbledgrass.Everythingwasquietexceptfortherustleofleavesstirredbythebreeze.
Moveaside,Maria!Wewilledhertoturn.Wecouldseeasmalltailswishingnearher,butthebaby’sformwasobscuredbyherframe.
AtGrayson’swhistle,thehorses’headscameupandturnedtowardus.Theypaused;thentheleader,alargecopperstallion,startedforward.Therestfollowed
suit,withthemareandherbabybringinguptherear.Stillcan’tsee!
Fifteenyardsnow,nearlycloseenoughtoview.Almost...almostthere.Thegroupstoppedjustbeyondus,clumpedtogetheraroundtheirnewestmember,beforeslowlyfanningout.C’mon,c’mon...Weheldourbreath.Atlastthemarebroke
fromthegroupandgentlynudgedthebabyatherside,asmothersoftendo...asiftourgehim,“Sayhellotothesepeople,Son.”Hetumbledforward,blinkingatusinsurprise.
Finally,ourfirstglimpseofthefoal.
Ohhoney.Justlookatyou.
Oureyestookintheperfectionbeforeus,andweexhaled,theairpassingslowlythroughourlipsaswetookhimin.
Youlookjustlikeyourmama...andyourdaddy.
You’redarkbrown,withunmistakablemarkings.
Adistinctgraymuzzle.Softlycircledeyes.
Earsthataremuchtoolong.
Yourmaneisallbristly.Yourtailisfunny.Yourheadisjustalittle
toobig.Darlingbaby,youarea
mule!Abeautifullittlemule.Andyourdaddyisthat
smug-lookingdonkeyinthenextpasture.
Onelookwasallweneeded.Thestrongfamilyresemblancevanquishedalldoubt.Wehadamulebabyonourhands.AndFlashwasthefather.
Thefoal’slonglegscarriedhimtowardusbeforehesuddenlyrealizedthathismotherhadstoppedseveralfeetback.Heleapedasifhislegsweremadeofsprings
andquicklyhoppedtoherside.Turningshylytolookatus,hiseyeswereinquisitiveandeagerinafacethatwasaperfectblendofFlashandhisladylove.
“Come!Comehere,”wecalledtothegroupastheymadetheirwaythroughthegrasstoouropenhands.Thenthefoalandhismamahungback,reluctanttogettoo
close.Itlookedlikethebabywasjustafewdaysold,itslegsfartoolongforitsbody,butotherwiserobustandhealthy.Whatamiraclehewas!Histinytailbobbedbackandforthashedecidedtoremainoutofourreach.
Oh,hewascute.AndnowIfiguredwe’dgetavisitfromthesheriff’sdepartment,demandingthatresponsibility
betaken.Therewasnodenyingthetruthbeforeus:Everythingontheinsideofthatbabyshowedontheoutside.Hehaddonkeybloodinhisveins,anditendearedhimtousmorethananythoroughbredbreedingcouldhave.
Weslippedtothefencewheneverwecouldtowatchhisprogressashefilledout
andgrewintohislonglegs.Alwaysbashfularoundus,heneverventuredfarfromhismama’seyes.Flash’slaissez-faireparentingstylelefttheday-to-daycaretotheebonymarewhileheobservedfromadistancethedarlingbabythatborehismarkings.Helookedonindulgentlywhilethemuleleapedoverimaginaryobstaclesand
kickeduphisheelswithrambunctiousenergy.Mariaseemedquitecontentwiththisarrangement,lookingaftertheneedsofhergrowingfoalwithoutinterferencefromtheopinionateddonkeynextdoor.
Everyonewhosawhimseemedtofallunderhischarm,includinghismama’sowner,whojoinedtheranks
ofthosesmittenbysuchaperfectmule.Muchtoourdelight,hedecidedtokeephimafterall.Wecouldcontinuetoseehimanytimewewanted.
Thesummerflewbyasweworkedontheluxurycondo.BridgetteandIhadonelast
meetingtowrapupthedetails.Wesatinherofficeamidstacksoffilesandsamplesandhercoloredmarkersandarchitecturalplans.Ifeltfortunatethatsomeoneofherprofessionalstaturewouldbewillingtotakemeunderherwingandteachmehowtotakethingsfurther.
I’dlearnedsomuchalready:howtocreatedesignboards,howtomakepresentations,andhowtoreadconstructiondocuments.Iwaspickinguptheterms:FF&E(Furniture,Fixtures,andEquipment—myfirst!),RFQ(RequestForQuote),charette(anintensecollaborativesession),lights(windowpanes),chamfer(to
roundoff),andingress/egress(in/out),tonameafew.IwasoutofmyleaguebuttryinghardtolookaspulledtogetherandconfidentasBridgette.
Ilookedatthepunchlistinmyhand.“TomandIwillbeon-sitewhenthechandeliergetsinstalled,”ItoldBridgette.“Ithinkthat’sthelastthingtobedone.”The
condohadturnedoutevenbetterthanwehadhoped.Itwasthoroughlyurban-contemporary,withatouchofTexasrusticflair.Theartpiecethatgracedthemassivewallwasastunningfocalpointfortheentirespace,anditwasgratifyingtoseehowithadallcometogether.
“Great.”Bridgettecheckedoffhernotes.Andthentherewasalittlepause.“So...Rachel,howdoyoudoit?”sheasked,returningherorangemarkertoitscaseandrestingherchininherhand.
“Dowhat?”Iwaspuzzledbyhersuddenquestion.
“Youknow.”Sheseemedtobesearchingfortherightwords.“Howdoyou...havesuchabeautifulfamilyinthemiddleofeverythingyouaredoing?”Ilookedupandsawaseriousexpressiononherface.“Imean,youandTomhavesomuchgoingon,andyetyoumakeitseemsoeasytoloveeachother.Youhavegoodrelationshipswithyour
kids,andyou’resoatpeaceallthetime.”
Bridgettestoppedforamomentandthenaddedslowly,“SteveandIusedtodrivepastyourhousewhenwelivedinthecottage,andsometimeswecouldseeinsideyourwindows.Italwayslookedsowarmand
wonderfulinthere.It’smademewonderhowyou’vedoneit.”
Idroppedmypenwithaclatter,speechlessatthisrevelation.Butitwashernextstatementthatnearlymademefalloffmychair.
“Youseemsoperfect,andit’shardnottobeintimidatedbyyou.”
Intimidated?Byme?Icouldn’tbehearingright.This,fromthebeautiful,impeccable,successfulBridgette.ThewomanIidolizedashavingitall,whocouldeatraspberryjam–toppedBrieandcrackers,balanceherbusinessandpersonallives,andstillmaintainatwenty-four-inchwaist.
Inamomentofclarity,IrealizedthatBridgettesawallthegoodandprettypartsofmylife,notalltheuglyonesIwastryingtohide.Ihadconvincedmyselfthatshenoticedmymomjeansandouroldtruckandmylackofprofessionalpolish,soinmyinsecurityIputupawallthatprojectedIhaditalltogether.Ididn’twanther—oranyone
else—toseemystrugglesandfailures,soIkeptheratarm’slengthandtriedtolookself-assuredandimpenetrable.Safe—fromadistance.
Thiswasmymodusoperandi:friendly,butfriendless.ExceptforPriscilla,therewereveryfewpeopleIletin.Fewsawtherealme,withmyflawsandwrinkles.ItwasapatternI’d
startedasagawkyteenager,soinsecureandsnaggletoothedandunfashionablenexttothepopulargirlsandsuccessfulathletesinhighschool.
BackthenI’dlearnedtobefunnyandgregarious,hidingmyintrovertedselfbehindaconfidentmasksothatI’dfitinwithoutriskingrejection.Itwashistory
repeatingitself—onlynowinsteadofcheerleaders,IsubstitutedotherwomenIdeemedbetter,smarter,prettier,andmoreaccomplished.Bridgettewasallofthosethings.Bestnottoletherseewhat’sontheinside.
Butthecharadesuddenlymademefeellonely.
Bridgette’squestionopenedmyeyes.Ihadbeenjealousofherperfection,andallthewhileshewasenviousofmine.Yetneitheroneofuswastrulywhattheotherthought.Bothofushadfalseperceptionsbasedonourowninsecurities.Sittinghere,ourelbowsnearlytouchingonthetable,mydefensesbegantomelt,andIrealized
somethingIhadn’trecognizedbefore:Wewerenolongerjusttwowomenfromoppositebackgrounds.Wewereinasisterhoodoffearandcomparisonthatkeptusinaplaceofmistrustandloneliness.Weheldourselvesuptooneotherandalwayscameupshort.Eachofustakingourweakestpointsandcomparingthemtotheother’s
strongest.Eachofushidingbehindourstrengthsandwearingthemlikearmor.
“Oh,Bridgette,ifyouonlyknewthetruth—howmuchI’vestruggledtobeagoodmomandhaveagoodmarriagewiththechallengesweface.MaybeImadeitlookeasybecausethat’swhatIwantedyoutosee.Thetruthis,Ifailwaymoreoftenthan
Isucceed.Idon’tmultitaskwell,andI’malwaysjugglingmorethanIcanhandle.Mypantsarehemmedwithducttape.Icanneverfindmatchingsocks.I’mdisorganizedanddistracted.”Isighed.“Allthistime,I’vebeenintimidatedbyyou.IwasconvincedIcouldnever
measureuptohowsmartandcompetentandtalentedyouare.”
Vulnerable,exposed.Butfinallygenuineandreal.Ihadputmyheartoutthere,andnowIheldmybreath.Pleasedon’thurtme.
Tomyrelief,shecradleditgently.
“Wow.”Bridgettepulledthewordoutlikesofttaffy.“Ithinkwehavealottolearnfromeachother.”Inodded,swallowingthelumpinmythroat.
“Tellmemoreaboutthatducttapetrick.”Shechuckled.“I’vegotsomepantsthatneedhemming.”
TwilightwasfallingasBridgetteandIsteppedoutsideontotheporch.Itwastimeformetoheadhome.Thelatespringairwascoolonmyskin,belyingthewarmththatusuallyushereditselfinthistimeofyear.Icouldseethehorsesgrazingintheadjacentpasture,justafewyardsnorthofBridgette’shouse.Theirsoftnickersand
blowingsoundstoldmetheywerethinkingaboutheadingbacktotheirownbarnforthenight.Justthen,alittlesetoflongearscameforwardtocheckoutthemovementintheyard.Littlebaby.HowIadoreyourmixed-upgenepool.
Bridgettepulledherbeadedscarfaroundhershouldersandpointedouta
lonebloomamidthespentgreensofearlierflowers.“Lookatmylastpurpleiris.Alltheotheronesbloomedweeksago,andthisonefinallyopenedupyesterday!It’sallbyitself.Idn’titgorgeous?”
“Beautiful!”Iadmiredthefrillypetalsofthelastiris,standingsotallandproud.
“Gottalovethelatebloomer.”Welaughed.
AndthenIturnedtoherandwhispered,“IthinkI’malatebloomer,Bridgette.IfeellikeI’mlatetoeverything...latetofiguringthingsout,latetofriendships,latetofindingmywholepurposeinlife.”Itookabreath.“But
maybethat’sokayifwhatI’llgetintheendisaspectacularfinishlikethis.”
“Well,metoo,”Bridgettesaid.“Metoo,girl.Bettertobloomlate,thantoneverbloom,right?”
Wesmiledateachotherinthegatheringdarknessandhigh-fivedoverourheads,fingerscatchingasourhandsdropped.Howcouldithave
takenmesolongtoseethisjewelofafriendrightundermynose?Perhapsshe’dbeenofferingherfriendshipallalong,andIwastoobusybeingstoicandself-sufficient.Tooworriedshe’ddiscovermyflawsandrejectme.Decliningthefirstandsecondoffersonaccountofthat’showIdoit.Circling,
fearingmistreatment,butreceivingkindnessinstead.Ihadbeensofoolish.
ThankYou,God,forthirdchances,andoftentimesmore.AndforSouthernsteelmagnoliaslikeBridgette.
Shehadhelpedmeunderstandsomethingimportant.Alifewelllivedisaboutcharacter—that’strue.It’swhenwhat’sontheinside
—love,generosity,faith,joy,andallthatgoodstuff—showsontheoutside.Butit’salsoaboutthepeoplewhoselivesyouareapartof.Thoseyouletin...thosewhomyouallowtoseeyourmostvulnerablepart—thesidethatisn’tperfect,doesn’thaveittogether,doesn’thaveeverythingfiguredout.It’s
whenyouquitcomparingandstophidingthatyoustarttobloom.
Isawthatcharacterreallymeansnothingwithoutpeopletoshareitwith.Whenitcomesdowntoit,characterisreallyonlyasgoodastherelationshipsaroundyou.Honesty,love,generosity,andtruthmusthaveanobject,ortheyremaintheoriesrather
thanbecomingrealitiesinourlives.Proverbs22:1says,“Chooseagoodreputationovergreatriches;beingheldinhighesteemisbetterthansilverorgold.”It’sinyourfriendships,yourcommunity,andyourfamilythatcharactermakesallthedifference.
Maybealifewelllivedisaboutwearingyourheartonyoursleeve,yourdonkeysoul
ontheoutside,justlikeourlittlemulenextdoor,withhisdistinctlightmuzzleandsoftlycircledeyes.Hecouldn’thidehisshadypaternity,evenifhewantedto.Butbecauseofit,welovehimallthemore.Earstoobig,tailtooodd...ohdearbaby.
It’slettingtheloveandthefear,thejoyandthesorrows,theconfidenceandtheinsecurities—allofit,everybitofit—showwithoutshame.It’sreachingoutandlearningtotrustinthekindnessthat’saroundyou,andallowingotherstoknowtherealyou.
Andthat’swhengenuinelovehappens.Betterlatethannever.
Wearyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve.Awell-livedlifeisanauthenticlife.
Drought.TheyearFlasharrived,Texaswashithardbyitsworstdryspellsincethe1950s.Rancherswereforcedtoselloffherds,andfarmerslostentirecropsfromthelackofrainfall.Reservoirswerehittingrockbottom,exposingoldtiresandradiatorsintheirfissuredlakebeds.Itseemedthatoneverystreetcornerandin
everybarbershop,coffeeshop,andconveniencestore,casualconversationwasmarkedbyweatherspeculation.
“It’stheLaNiñaeffect,”awiryranchertoldmeoverhisStyrofoamcoffeecupinthechurchfoyer.“That’swhenthecolderairandwaterinthePacificcausedrierconditionsinthecentral
plainsandsouthwesternpartsofthecountry.Ifwecouldjustgetthatjetstreamtomove...”HeexplainedthatwhatwereallyneededwasElNiño—theoppositeofLaNiña—todumpboatloadsofrainonus.
Otherswerecertainthatsinisterconspiracieswereatwork.
“Definitelythegovernment,”saidafriendwhowasknowntogetinsideinformationfromInternetsources.“Well,notexactlythegovernment.It’sasecretorganization,whichisrunbythegovernment,tocontrolradiofrequencywavesinordertochangetheweather.”Sheelaboratedatlengthonthehigh-altitudechemical
vaporsintentionallycreatedbyaircrafttoalterweatherpatternsworldwide.Interesting.Whilethistheorydidn’texplainthepurposeofsuchnefariousgovernmentalinterference,itdidmakeforlivelydiscussion.
“Globalwarming,”saidanotherfriend.“Thegreenhousegasesareruining
theplanet.JustlookatthepollutioninAsiaandyoucanseewhywearesuffering.”
Stillothersproclaimedthedroughttobetheresultofrighteousjudgment,aseriousaccusationagainstthestatethatregardsitselfasthebuckleontheBibleBelt.Thisoneseemedcurioustome.Perhapsinsteaditwasourself-righteousness—andnot
theoutrightsinanddebaucherymoreprevalentinothergeographicalareas—thatwastoblame.Still,itwasprobablyagoodideatodosomesoul-searchinganyway.Thegovernorcalledforstatewidevigils,andpeopleeverywhereprayedforrain.Weneededitbadly.
Flashshowedupjustasrainfalltotalswerestartingtoplummet.Bythetimewerealizedthedroughtwasn’tgoinganywhere,hewaspartofthefamily,andnomatterwhatitcostinhayandcare,hewasheretostay.
Hewastheonlyonewhoseemedoblivioustothetroublesaroundhim,andIlovedhangingoutwithhim
asthesunwouldsetonanotheraridday.Ibrushedhissleeksummercoatandappliedflyrepellent.Pickeddirtoutofhishoovesandcarefullycleanedaroundhiseyes.ItseemedFlashsufferedfromthesameallergiesthatwedid,andhiseyeswouldgetwateryfromdustandpollen.Flash’scontenteddemeanorandquiet
appreciationforthetendercarealwaysbroughtmeasenseofcalmasTomandIcontinuedtryingtopatchtogetheralivingandfinishraisingourkidsinthemidstoftheGreatRecession.
YouhadtohandittoFlash:Hemaintainedabusyschedule.Ifhecouldhave
typedupadailyto-dolist,Iamcertainitwouldhavelookedsomethinglikethis:
1.Wakeupamongthecedartrees.
2.Enjoythemorningquiet.3.Wandertotheback
pasture.4.Followthetrailtothe
barnandcheckonbreakfastsituation.
5.Eathay.6.Solveworldproblems.7.Nap.8.Checkresidentmesquite
treesforleaves.9.Finddelicateflowersto
nibble.10.Moseytofrontpasture.11.Scratchbodypartson
fenceposts.12.Socializewithneighbors
overfence.
13.Munchontreebarkandweeds.
14.Standnearboisd’arctreeandwaitforsomeonetopickupfruitandthrowittome.
15.Bray.(Forbestresults,dothiswithoutwarning.)
16.Nap.17.Checkon“peopleactivity”
neargate.18.Loiternearbarn.
19.Takeadirtbathinfavoriterollspot.
20.Poopindesignatedpiles.(Doseveraltimesaday,notparticularlyscheduled.)
21.Bird-watch.22.Callitaday.
Flash’sdaysweresofull,it’sawonderhefititallin.
AftercheckingonthewaterlevelinhisbucketandfindingFlashfinishingup#2(enjoythemorningquiet)andstartingon#3(wandertothebackpasture),IpackedasacklunchandgrabbedmyearbudssoIcouldheadtoamuralproject.Tomloadedmyladdersandpaintsupplies.Hewouldspendthedayworkingwithhisfather
onalittlesidebusinessthatbroughtinsomeextraincome.Thedaypromisedtobeaninterestingone,asI’dneverpaintedasceneonawallofaroomthathousedanindoorswimmingpoolandfeltexcitedabouttheprospect.
“Remember,LaurenandRobertandMeghanandNathanwillbehomeforthe
weekend,”TomsaidashekissedmyforeheadthroughtheopenExplorerwindow.“Tryandwrapitupearlysowecanorderpizzaandgetamoviegoing.”
“Can’twait,”Isaid.Nothingsoundedbetterthanaweekendofcomfortfoodandhangingouttogether.Maybe
Icouldgetthemurallaidoutandtheunderpaintingdonebytheendoftheafternoon.
Ignoringthecheck-enginelightthathadbeenlituponthedashboardforweeks,IputtheExplorerintoreverse.AloudsqueakemanatedfromthefrontendasIrolledbackward.Well,thiswasnew.Myexcitementforthedaydisappearedinaninstant.
Ihitthebrakes,andTomandIgrimacedateachotherasoureyesmet.
Well?myfacesaid.Notimetolookatit,his
expressionreplied.Myeyesnarrowed.Ihate
thisbucketofbolts.Iknow.Heshruggedin
sympathy,palmsraised.Metoo.
“Comearoundthehouseandparkinback,nexttotheyellowJag.”Myclient’ssultryvoiceoozedthroughtheentryspeakerastheheavyirongateswungopen.Ipulledthroughthearchesontotheexpansivepropertyandfoundaspottoparknearthefleetofvehiclesinthedetachedsix-cargarage.NomatterhowslowlyIcrept
along,thatsqueakfromtheExplorerechoedoffthecourtyardwallsasIrattledthevehicleintoplace.Lovely.
AyellowJaguar,ablueMercedes,aHUMMER,aconvertibleBMW,andablackLexuswereneatlylinedupandpolishedintheir
spaces.I’msogladIgotacarwashontheway—notthatitmakesmuchdifference.
Thehomeownerwasthewifeofamanwhohadacquiredhiswealthintheoilbusiness.Asweheadedforthepool,shepointedoutallthetreasuresshe’damassedfromheroverseastravels.
“You’veprobablyneverbeentoChina,butIfellinlovewithAsianartsandcraftsandbroughtsomelargepieceshomewithme.Theycostafortunetoship,butthey’reworthit.”Hermonologuewaspunctuatedwithoddinflectionsthatfeltliketinypinpricksundermyskin,andwewereonlyminutesintotheday.
Sheintroducedmetotheotherservicepeopleon-site:thecardetailguy,thecleaninglady,thewindowguy,thefireplaceguy.Iquicklydiscoveredthatshe’dhiredmeasmuchforconversationasforpainting.Unfortunately,Ihadnotincluded“talking”inmyestimate,soIwasquiteanxioustosticktothepart
whereapaintbrushwasinhand.Allthekidswouldbehometonight!
Therewasnotaminutetospare.Isurveyedthescopeoftheprojectwhilelookingovermyshoulderassheusheredmealong.BecausefirstIwouldneedatourthroughtheneweastwingandindoor
tenniscourts,apparentlytoproperlyunderstandthefeelofthehome.
Finallywereachedtheend,andIwasdismissedtobeginmyrealjob.“I’llletyougettoit,”shesaidwithawaveofherhand.“I’vegotsomeonlineshoppingtodointheotherroom.”
Thehumidpoolroomwasalsohometoanindoorgarden.Mymuralwouldcoveroneofthewalls,togivetheillusionthatanAsian“garden”continuedonintothedistance.Crammedwithtropicalplants,moss-coveredrocks,andimportedstatues,therewasn’tonelevelspotonthefloorformyladder.Noplacetosetmytools.Dear
me,it’slikeasaunainhere.Icouldfeelatrickleofsweatmakeitswaydownmyneck,andIknewmyworkwascutoutforme.
AsIunpackedmysupplies,itwashardtoshakethatcheck-enginelightandthehumiliatingsqueakthathadannouncedmyarrivalatthissprawlingNorthDallasmanor.Ishouldbegrateful
forthisproject,butman!ItwastoughtofeelthankfulafterparkingnexttothatyellowJag.Andallthosecommentsthatmademefeelsubservient....Ididn’tknowwhattomakeofthem,buttheydidn’thelpmymood.Iwasirritated.
Plugginginmyearbuds,ItunedmyiPodtoworshipmusicinhopesthatitwould
improvemyoutlook.ListeningtoChrisTomlinsing“MyChainsAreGone,”IfeltmypulsebegintosubsidetoanormallevelasIfocusedonthewordsandletthemelodywashoverme.Ipulledoutmysketches,alreadysoggyfromthehumidity,andbegantoplotthemuraldesignontothewall.
Aroundlunchtime,mystomachwasrumblingandmyarmswereachingwhenIheardadistant,mutedpoundingonawindow.Iturnedonmyunsteadyladdertoseetheladymouthingsomethingurgenttomeandpointingtothedoorthatopenedintotheirgameroom.Iremovedmyearbudsand
climbeddownasshewentaroundtoopenthedoortomysauna.
Isteppedintotheair-conditionedroominacloudofmoistureandcaughtaglimpseofmyselfinthemirrorabovethebar.Ohforcryingoutloud.No!Myhairwasstucktomyheadlikeagreasysquirrel,mascaracircledmyeyesandrandown
mycheek,andagreenmustachegracedmyupperlipwhereI’dsmudgedpaint.IlookedlikeaGoth-inspiredbaglady.AndIwasprettyconfidentthatmydeodoranthadfailed.ItwasthefullpackageofAwful.
Myclient,ontheotherhand,smelledoffreesiaandoilmoney.Inhermanicuredfingerswasacatalogofthe
latestMercedesmodels,whichshelaidopenonthetablenexttous.
“Idesperatelyneedyourhelp,”sheimplored.“Youhaveanartisticeye.Ican’tdecidewhichMercedestobuy:theclassicdark-graysedanorthehotlittleredconvertible.Whichdoyouthinkmakesthebest
statement?”Sheblinkedatmewithherflawlessmakeupandwaited.
Ilookedbackatherwithmyraccooneyesandmydrippyhair,clenchingmypaint-coveredfingersbehindmyback.
AndIfeltaboutaninchtall.
Iwasangry.Ifeltbelittledandsmallandungrateful.Iwassweatyandbitter.
Um,haveyaseenmyawesomevehicleoutthere?DoyoureallythinkI’mqualifiedtotellyouwhichcarmakesthebeststatement?
Howabouttheonethatdoesn’tsqueak?Yeah,thatone.Pickthatone.
ButIpointedtotheredcoupewithmyknuckleandheardmyselfsay,“Oh,taketheredone!It’ssportyandflashyandfun!”Didmylaughsoundnaturalandlight?BecauseIreallywantedtosoundnaturalandlight.
Therestoftheconversationblurred,alongwiththefinalhoursof
roughing-inthepainting.AsIthrewmybrushesandtoolstogethertogohome,sheinsistedthatItakeeverythingoutagaintotouchupafurniturepiecesheneededforapartythatweekend.Inmymind,itwasanotherstrangestabtoputmeinmyplaceandkeepmelongerthanIwanted.
Squeakinghome(withoutair-conditioning,Imightadd)intheredExplorerthatmadearealstatement,IlashedoutatGodforHislackofcare.Weeksbetweenprojectsandthentogetthisone,workingforsomeonewithasenseofsuperiority?Iknewtheeconomywashurtingeveryone,notjustthefarmersandranchersandartists,butI
expectedalittlebettertreatmenthere.Iwassickofthisrecession.Iwastiredofcuttingexpenses,beatendownbythatorangelightblinkingatme.Andmyhairstillstucktomyhead,althoughnowmattedintoacrispymess.IfeverIneededthosehighlights,itwasnow.It’sjustthattherewasneverquiteenough.Neverenough
money,neverenoughtime,neverenoughsuccess,neverenoughofanythingtogoaround.
WhenIfinallyarrivedhome,Iturnedofftheengineandsatinthedrivewayforamoment.Flashwasatthefencetogreetme,sidesheavingasheairedupforaloudbellow.Notnow,Flash.
Spareme.Isighedthroughpuffedcheeksbutgotoutofthecartoseehimanyway.Thekidswerewaitinginside,butIneededafewmomentstodecompress—andhey,whynotgetblastedbyadonkeyfoghornwhileIwasatit?Icoveredmyearsinanticipation.
Flash’slipspulledbackandhisheadcameforwardashereleasedthebrayinanexplosionofsound.
HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw!
Hesubsidedmomentarily,thenletforthagain.HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw!
“Goodtoseeyou,too,buddy.”Myshoulderswereslumpedindefeat,butsadly
Flashiscluelesswhenitcomestoreadingbodylanguageandpaidnoattentiontomyneedtoregroup.
Helookedexpectantlyatme,thenpointedlyatthegreenhorseapplesonthegroundnearmyfeet.Inoticedhe’dpositionedhimselfstrategicallyneartheboisd’arc(pronounced“bo-
dark”)treejustoutsidehisfence.Mostpeoplecallthiskindoftreeahedgerowtreeorhorseappletreebecauseofitsoddlime-greenfruit,whichlooklikeoversized,pebblytennisballs.
They’rerockhardandworthlesstohumans,buthorsesanddonkeyslovethem.Flashhasperfectedtheartofeatingone,which
requiresholdingitagainstthegroundwithhismouthwhilebitingoffahunkwithhisteeth.Hethenchewsthestickymouthful,withgreenslobberdribblingout,smackinghislipswithrelish.
Ahem.Rachel,lookatme.Yes.Nowlookatthegroundrightthere.Hecockedhis
head,andhiseyessentinvisiblearrowstothefruit.Icouldnotmisshisintent.
Obediently,Ipickedupahorseappleandchuckeditoverthefencetohim.Itrolledtoastopnearhisfrontfeet.Hisheadlungedandhedugintoitgreedily,thejuicesquirtingoutashebitdown.Ileanedagainstthetreeandwatchedhimchewthewoody
pulpwithhiseyeshalf-closedindelight.Hepolisheditoffintwomorechompsandimmediatelyimploredmeformore.Afreshonecrashedtothegroundwithathud,soIpickeditupandhelditjustbeyondhim.
“What?Youwantthis,huh?Huh?”
Icouldn’thelpbutsmilealittleatFlash’sexpression.Hislipsaresonimble,Iswearhecouldpickalockwiththem.Heraisedonesideofhisupperlipandflaredhisnostril,asifheknewIwasteasinghim.Aswiftnodofhisheadtoldmetogetseriousandhanditover.
“Okay,okay.Hereyougo.”Hetookitfrommyhandandsetitdownonthegroundwithhisteeth.Then,likethegentlemanhecouldbe,hebroughthisheaduptosaythankyou.Irubbedtheinsidesofhisearswithmyfingers,andhewasonlytoohappytoputoffeatinguntiltheattentionwasover.Ilookedaroundathisbarren
pastureandmarveledathow
hemanagedtothrivewithsolittlegrassgrowingfromtheparchedground.
It’sremarkable,really.Flashfindsedibledelicacieseverywhere.Heeatsweedsthatwouldinsulthorses,andhefavorsdrynativegrassesthatevencowsturnuptheirnosesat.Madeforthedesert,thedonkeyisundauntedbydrought—anaturalbrowser
whochoosesleaves,bark,thistles,andbrushwheneasygrazingisn’tavailable.
IlovewatchingFlashsingleoutthespecificplantshelikes,nomatterhowsmall,andremovethemfromthesurroundinggrowthwiththeskillofasurgeon.Heselectsbladesofgrass,bitesthemin
half,andeatshisfavoriteparts,likeaconnoisseurofvegetation.
Flashfindsparticulardelightintheleafyfrondsofmesquitetreesthatgrowinandaroundhispasture.Somehowheisabletoavoidthegiganticthornsashegraspsasmallbranchwithhisteeth,likeaSpanishflamencodancerwitharose.Thenhe
slideshismouthdowntotheend,strippingtheleavesashegoesalong.You’dthinkhewaspoppingcaviarintohismouth,heenjoysitsomuch...withnaryascratchendinguponthosebiglips.
Betweenhisdailyto-dolist,hisappetiteforweedsandleaves,andtheservingsofhayinthebarn,Flashwas
livinglikeaking.Well,Iwasgladsomebodywasaroundhere.Whatacharacter.
Withmymoodlifting,IgaveFlashafarewellkissonthenoseandjoinedthefamilyinside.LaurenandRobert;Meghanandhernewfiancé,Nathan;andGraysonallcheeredasIwalkedinthedoor.
“Nowthepartycanstart!”Theyknewhowtomakemefeelgood,andIshedthelastvestigeofbitternessovermydayastheyenvelopedmeinwarmgreeting.
Themorningcoffeegaveoffitslife-sustainingaromaasIputteredaroundthekitchenin
myrobe.Pizzaboxeslitteredthecounter,alongwiththedishesthathadbeenleftindisarraythenightbefore.Noneofushadwantedtomissthemoviebytakingtimetocleanup.I’denjoyacupofcoffeebeforethecrewawokeandbeforeembarkingonthecleaningeffort.
Mycellphoneinterruptedthequietmoment.SoearlyonaSaturday?ItwasBridgette,callingfromherfamilyhomeinLouisiana,andsomethinginhervoicesoundedoff.
“What’sgoingon,Bridgette?”Iasked,andIheardhertakeashakybreathontheotherend.
“Rachel,”shesaid.AndIknewinstantlythatitcouldn’tbegood.
“Ifoundalump.”Thewordsnooneever
wantstohear.Thewordsnooneever
wantstosay.Alump?Please,God,no.Myheartstopped,andI
reachedforthekitchencounterasmykneesbuckled.
“No.No!What?How?Bridgette,areyouokay?”
“Theyaredoingabiopsy,andhopefullyit’snothing.It’sprobablynothing,right?ButIcan’ttellMamayetbecauseofherheartcondition,andIdon’twanttotellmykidsuntilafterIknowsomethingforsure.”Hervoicewobbled.“Ijust...Ijustwantedyoutoknow.
You’retheonlyoneoutsidemyfamilywhoIcancallrightnow.Ineedyoutoknowwhat’shappening.Ineedyoutopray.”
Tearsoffearandanger.NotBridgette.Notmysteelmagnolia.NotthiswomanwhohadgivenFlashadifferentname,whosharedherperennialsandforgedanunexpectedfriendshipwith
me,thegirlwhodidn’tthinksheneededafriend.Irefusedtobelieveit.
Butthecancerwasreal.Anditwasbig.Andthereweresurgeries,andchemoandradiation.Shewassick,andhertinyfiguregoteventinierasshelostweightduringhertreatment.Herhaircameoutinclumpsuntilsheshaveditalloff.
Andthroughallofit,Bridgettewastheonewhowasstrong.TomandIbroughtchickendinnersandflowersandmadecards,butitfeltsomeagerinthefaceofsomethingthisenormous.Mostly,weprayed.Please,dearJesus.Healher.Doamiracle.Wewantedaninstantzap.Abeamfrom
heaventotakeawaythecancerinonebigblazeofglory.
Butitseemedthathermiraclewouldunfoldinthelong,slowjourneyofmodernscienceandhospitalwaitingrooms.Herrecoverywouldeventuallybefoundinthecareofexcellentdoctorsandnursesanddrugtherapies.Intheend,wedidn’tcarewhat
formthehealingtook,andwefeltgratefulforeachsteptowardremission.
Inthemiddleofhermonthsoftreatment,westartedanewdesignprojecttogether.IwatchedassomethinglikelightemanatedfromBridgetteinawayI’dneverseenbefore.Thereshestood,baldasabilliard,conductingmeetingsand
drawingupplansandexecutingherdesigns.She’dclutchachairduringahotflash,peeloffalayerofclothing,wipeherneck,andjustkeepgoing.
ShesurroundedherselfwithfamilyandfriendsanddrankineveryScriptureabouthealing.ShedancedwithSteveonthejob-sitefloorandworebright,
giganticearringsandcolorfulscarves.Itwaslikeshesqueezedallthegoodnessoflifeintoeachpreciousday.Shehadneverbeenmorebeautifulorradiant.AndIlovedherallthemore.
“Rachel,youcannotbelievehowliberatingitistobecompletelybald,”Bridgettetoldmeoneday.Thewigsthatshe’dso
carefullyselected,andwassocertainshe’dwear,madeherscalpitch.Shesaidshefeltfakewhensheworethem.Soshedecidedtomeettheworldsanshair.“Ineverrealizedhowgooditwouldfeeltoletgoofallthatpridethatwassowrappedupinmyhair,andtojustsay,‘ThisiswhoIam.’”Shethrewherarmswideandraisedherfaceskyward,open
andfree,thankfulforlife,andforbreathingandloving.Shegrabbedmyhandandwhispered,“Godissogood.”
Bridgette,likeFlash,foundawaytothriveinthemidstofherdrought.Itputmyproblemsintoanewperspective.BothBridgetteandFlashseemedtohavediscoveredthesecrettolivinginabundance,despitethe
oddsagainstthem.Watchingthem,IknewIhadsomesoul-searchingtodo.
“Standwherefruitisfalling,”Iwroteinmyjournalthatsummer.Ididn’tknowwhythatphrasecaughtinmymind,butitdid.Thoseworthlesshorseapplesthatlitteredtheyard—theybecametreasurestoadonkeystuckinabarrenlandscape.
Andtheweedsandleavesthateveryoneelseoverlooked—theyweresustenanceandlifetohim.Somewhere,somehow,inthemiddleofdrought,abundancecouldbefound.AndIhadnearlymissedit,becauseIwaslookingforeasygrazing.
IthoughtbacktotheyellowJagclient,theladywhohadeverythingmoney
couldbuy.NowthatIwaspastfeelinglikeafeverish,greasysquirrelandhadinvestedinsomewaterproofmascara,Icouldthinkalittlemoreclearlyaboutthatwholeincident.
FromthemomentI’ddriventhroughtheimposinggateandpulledupnexttothefleetofluxuryvehicles,I’dfocusedonalltheshiny
materialthingsinfrontofme.Iwasoccupiedwiththoughtsoforthodontia,carrepair,andthecostofhamburger.It’sgroundmeat,people.Notsteak!Icertainlywasn’tlivinginabundance,butIsuddenlyrealizedthatthewifeIsoenvied,whofelttheneedtojabthelessfortunatesateveryturn,wasn’teither.
HadIglimpseddisappointmentinherface—there,amidherbeautifulsurroundings?Iwonderedifthestepchildrenshementionedresentedher,andifshewishedherhusbandwerehomemoreoften.Shefilledherdayswithshopping,rearranging,lunches,andparties,butbeneathitall,
therewasfearthateverythingwoulddisappearwiththeonsetofageandwrinkles.
Shewasgraspingatalifestylethatshouldhavebroughtpeace,butinsteaditonlyheightenedherinsecurity.Peoplewhohaveenoughneverneedtopointouteveryoneelse’slack.Icouldseethatnow.Abundantlivingmustbe
aboutsomethingdeeperandmorelastingthanabankaccount.
IheadedtothepasturewithmynotebookandBible,thistimewantingtogettotheheartofthisideaoflivinginabundance.Thedriedmesquitepodsthatswayedinthehotwindsoundedlike
MexicanmaracasasIdustedoffthegreencampchairnearthefirepit.
Rightoncue,Flashapproachedandnuzzledmyshoulder,thenlingerednearbytokeepmecompany.Hedelvedintothesmallstandoftreesandfoundabranch,shoulderheight,thathecouldrubagainst.Workingclockwisearound
hisframe,hescratchedeveryinchatthatlevelbeforemovingontoatallerbranchforhisheadandneck.Iguessthistimeheactuallyreadmybodylanguagethatsaid“I’mdeepinthought”andfiguredhe’dtakecareofhisownneeds.
IfeltlikethepersoninProverbs6:6whowastold,“Gototheant...considerits
waysandbewise”(NIV).OnlyIwasgoingtothedonkey,theancientanimalwhohappenedtoshowupinmanysignificantstoriesrecordedintheBible,aswellasinthelivesofthisaveragefamilyinTexas.Wasitcoincidence?Ibegantothinkmaybeitwasn’t.Sohowwas
itthatFlashalwayshadenough?Whatwashissecretofabundance?
MyeyesfoundHabakkuk3:17-19,whichdescribesadesolatescene:
Eventhoughthefigtreeshavenoblossoms,
andtherearenograpesonthevines;
eventhoughtheolivecropfails,
andthefieldslieemptyandbarren;
eventhoughtheflocksdieinthefields,
andthecattlebarnsareempty...
Wow,nowthat’sdrought.Soundsfamiliar.
YetIwillrejoiceintheLORD![emphasisadded]
IwillbejoyfulintheGodofmysalvation!
TheSovereignLORDismystrength!
Hemakesmeassurefootedasadeer,
abletotreadupontheheights.
Clearly,theseversesaresayingthatjoyandstrengtharefoundinGod.Evenwhenthereisdrought.Despitealltheoddsagainstthem.Inthefaceofdespair.Inthemidstofyourtroubles.Okay,Icouldseethat.Buthow,exactly,doesitwork?
Ahotbreathofwindcurledthepages,andIsmoothedthembackdown.Flashabandonedtheself-servescratchingpostandsteppedclosetomychairtosniffthebookinmylap.Iknewhecouldn’tread,buthepretendedtoanyway,hislipsmovingeversoslightlyasifformingthewords.Inudged
himandasked,“Whatdoyouthink,Flash?Isthereananswerinthere?”
Heflappedhisearsasiftosay,“Seeforyourself.Ican’tdoyourworkforyou.”Atthis,Ipushedhisheadoutofthewaytolookforaclue—andfounditnexttothe“yet.”
“YetIwill”toldmewhatIneededtoknow.
Imustchooseit.Imustchoosetorejoice.Imustchoosegratitude.ImustchoosetolooktoHimforstrength.Imustchoosetofindfruit.Itisamatterofmywill.
Ah.
Thiswholeabundancethingstartswithadecisiontoseethegoodnessaroundyouandgivethanksinyourcircumstances.FirstThessalonians5:18says,“Nomatterwhathappens,alwaysbethankful,forthisisGod’swillforyouwhobelongtoChristJesus”(TLB).Itisinbeingfullypresentandfullyengagedintheactof
gratitudethatjoycanbereleasedinandaroundyou.IntentionalthanksgivingiswhenyouhumblyreceivewhatGodgraciouslygivesyouandofferpraisetoHiminreturn,creatingagrandcircleofabundance.
Flash’sto-dolistisasimplifiedformofabundantliving.Heawakenseachmorningunderthecedarsand
enjoysthegiftofanewday.Hemoseystothebarntoseewhathasbeenprovided.Helooksforsustenanceinunexpectedplaces.Heeatshardshipforbreakfast.Hetakesthethingsthataredisdainedbyothersandrelishesthenutrientshefinds.Heasksforhelpfromhiscommunity.Hestrategicallypositionshimselfforfruit.He
livesinthemoment.Hepoopsconscientiously.Heisgratefulforsimplepleasures.Hechoosescontentment.
Andnoneofitisdependentonmaterialwealth,orevenhealth,asBridgetteshowedme.Shewrestledwiththefearthatcamewiththecancer,theweaknessthatfollowedthesurgeries,andtheexhaustionthatradiation
brought.Andthroughitall,shefoundawaytoseeGod’sloveineverystepofherjourney.Shechosetotreasurethegiftsthataccompaniedthepain:thegiftsoffriendship,offamily,andofdailygraces.Sheeventreasuredthegiftoffreedomthatcamewithherlossofhair.Ifthat’snotlivinginabundance,Idon’tknowwhatis.
“Standwherefruitisfalling”meansthis:“Positionyourselfwherethegoodstuffis.”Findthegoodnessandgetthere.Justgetthere.Becausethegoodnesscanonlycomewhenyou’restandingintherightplace....
Iwasstartingtoseethepicturenow.Allofitisadecision.Achoicetosavor
thegraceofeachmomentandtoexperienceabundanceintheveryactofgratitude.
IsmiledasIthoughtofTomtakingmyhandintheHomeDepotparkinglotoneTuesdayafternoonandtwirlingmearoundandintoadip,fornoreasonatall.Ithoughtofthekidsandthepizzaboxes,andpilinginonthecouchtowatchmovies
andenjoypopcornandmilkshakestogether.ThesqueakyfrontendoftheExplorerannouncingmyconspicuousarrivalattheyellowJagmansion.
ThehonorofbringingbakedchickentoBridgette,whobeathercancerinhighstyle,withherbigearringsandirrepressiblejoy.Thelaundryandthebillsandthe
dailinessofliving,allmingledwiththesparklesofeveningfireflies,themorningcoffee,andthecampchairssetaroundafirepit,inapasturewhereadonkeylingers.
Youcanstandwherefruitisfalling.OnahotAugustday,inthemiddleofdrought,
thereisfruitthatlookslikeworthless,hard-as-rockodditiesofnature.
Butitisso.Much.More.Thanthat.
Itisthe“yet”thatsetsjoyatopamountainoftrials,andplantsaflagoftriumphthereforalltosee.Itisthe“eventhough”thatseespasttheemptystallsanddried-upfieldsandvineswithno
grapes,andsetsitssightsonaSaviorwhoisalwaysenough.ItisthearrowthatpointstoaGodwhoselavishgracegivesandsustainslife,andmakesourfeetdanceupontheheights.Itisthe“Iwill”thatchoosesdailygratitude,andaheartthatrejoicesinHisloving-kindness.
Itisthesecretofabundance.
Standwherefruitisfalling.Thesecretofabundanceisinchoosinggratitude.
Yourdonkeyisbeingapest,”Tomannouncedashewipedhisbootsonthematoutsidethekitchendoor.“Ican’tgetanythingdonewithhimlookingovermyshouldersoclosely.”
Hesteppedinsidetowashupforlunch,frustratedthathehadn’tgottenmoreaccomplishedonhisbarnremodelingproject.Hewas
convertingtwostallsintoanenclosedworkspace,andthemorning’sgoaloflayingasubfloorhadnotendedwell.
Ifinishedmakingahamsandwichandopenedabagofchips.Ithadn’tescapedmynoticethatTomhadreferredtoFlashas“yourdonkey.”Uh-huh.It’sjustlikewhenoneparenttriestoshifttheresponsibilityfordisciplineto
theotherparent.“Yoursonneedsagoodtalkingto.”Or“Yourdaughterexceededhertextinglimit.”It’sasubtlewayofsaying,“It’syourturntotakecareofthis.”
So,likeeverygoodparent,Igotdefensive.
“He’sjustcurious,that’sall,”Isaid,excusingFlash’sbehavior.“Youknowhehastoseeeverythingthat’sgoing
on.Plus,you’rehisleader,andhewantstobenearyou,soweshouldcuthimsomeslack.”
Don’tgetmewrong;Ilovethatdonkeytodeath,butI’mnottakingthefallforanymischiefhepullsinthebarn.
“Well,he’snohelpwhatsoever,”Tomreplied.“Hehasn’tdonealickofworksincehe’sbeenhere,
andnowhe’skeepingmefromdoingmine.”Hisexpressionwasoneofmockdisgust,andIdetectedindulgenceinhisvoice.Bigsofty.
Thefactis,Flash’spersonalworkethicdoesleavesomethingtobedesired.Asimpressiveashispasturetrailsare,theyareabouttheonlythinghe’s
actuallyworkedatsincehearrivedonourdoorstep.Buteventhatjobissuspect,becauseweknowthereisfood,orwater,orarollinthedustattheendofeachofhispaths.Notexactlywhatyou’dcallanaltruisticeffort.
No,I’dsaythatFlashthinksofhimselfasmoreofasupervisorthanaworker.Hedefinitelyhasmanagement
potential—I’llgivehimthatmuch—althoughhispeopleskillscouldusesomehelp.He’sabitofamicromanager.Andthisiswherewerunintoproblems.
Caseinpointwasthisstall-to-workspaceprojectinourbarn,wheretheonlydoorinthisopen-conceptstructureisforthetackroom.Thestallsarepartitions,andthe
remainingareaiscoveredbutopentothepasture,givingFlashfreeaccesswheneverhewants.FlashtookituponhimselftopersonallyoverseetheentirerenovationbystandingdirectlyinTom’swayateveryturn.
HestakedouttheareabetweenTomandhistools,turninghisheadthiswayandthattoinspecteachhammer
blowandwoodcut.Swishinghistailandsniffingtheboxofscrews,heknockedoverthedrillandsteppedonthemeasuringtape.HelappedatTom’swaterbottleanddevouredthecrumbsfromagranolabar.AndhefartedwaytoooftenforTom’scomfort.
“Backup,Flashol’buddy.”Tompushedhimastepbackwardsohecouldreachhiscarpenter’slevel.FlashcompliedforaminutebutwassimplyincapableoflettingTomdothenextpartonhisown.Crouchedoverthefloorjoisttosecureanewbeamintoplace,TomfeltFlash’swarmbreathnearhisear.The“supervisor’s”
muzzlehairstickledthenapeofTom’sneckashemeasured.Notsatisfiedwithhisvantagepoint,FlashinchedcloserandhunghisheadoverTom’sshoulderforanevenbetterlook.Heofferedhisopinionwithaslightshakeofhislips.Upalittlehigherontheright,heseemedtosay.
“Hey,howamIsupposedtogetanythingdonewithyourestingyourheadonme?”TomreachedanarmaroundFlash’sneckandgavehisnosearubwiththeotherhand.“WhatIreallyneedyoutodoiscarryaloadoflumberfromthetrucktothebarn.”Atsuchaludicroussuggestion,Flashcockedhisearssidewayswithalookthat
said,“You’rekidding,right?”Tomeasedhisbodyfrom
beneathFlash’sheadandstooduptogetsomesuppliesthatwerestoredinthetackroom.Openingthedoortothenarrowroomandsteppinginside,hefoundwhatheneededonthebackwall.
Clunk,clunk.Clunk,clunk.
BeforeTomhadachancetoturnaround,fourhooveshadsteppedupintothespacebehindhim,theclunksechoingonthewoodfloor.
“Seriously,Flash?”Tomslowlyturned,armsupoverhisheadinthetightspot.Flash’sbodytrappedTomagainsttheshelves,hisforeheadplantedintoTom’schest.“I’mjustgettingan
extensioncord.Youdon’tneedtocheckuponme.”HepressedonFlash’sshoulderstogethimtobackout.Therecouldbenoturningaroundinthere.He’dhavetoexitrumpfirst.
Flashdidn’tbudge.Hejuststoodthereinsilence,blinkingstraightahead.Clearly,hedidn’ttrustTom’sselectionofthetwenty-foot
cord.Theutterburdenofhavingtomanageeverysinglemovethatoccurredaroundheremadehimsighindeepresignation.Oh,theincompetence.
“Okay,youwin.I’llgrabthefifty-footer.”Tompulledthelongercordfromtheshelfandslungitoverhisshoulder.“Happynow?”
Reluctantly,Flashclunkedbackward,offthestep,andintotheopenbarn,knockingoveracanofpaintintheprocess.
“Somuchforbeingaserviceanimal.”Tomteasedhimwithanelbownudge,rightedthecan,andreturnedtohiswork.“You’reabsolutelyworthless.”
Aserviceanimal!Hey!
InspiredbyTom’ssuggestionthatFlashmightbeabletocarryaloadoflumber,Iembarkedonsomeresearchtoseejustwhatadonkeycouldbecapableof.Tomysurprise,anddespiteFlash’sless-than-stellarexample,Ilearnedthatdonkeysarethenumber-oneserviceanimalontheplanet.
Millionsofdonkeysaroundtheglobedothehardworkofhauling,plowing,carrying,milling,andpulling—jobsthatpeopleindevelopingeconomiesrelyonfortheirlivelihoods.DonkeysaretheJohnDeeretractors,thedeliveryvans,thefamilycars,theRamtrucks,andthelowlyservantsoftheThirdWorld.
PhotosofdonkeysladenwithheavyloadsandlookingasiftheyhadsteppedfromthepagesofancientliteraturefilledmyGooglesearches.It’sasiftimestoodstillforthesegentlebeastsofburden,andforthepeopleinpoorcountrieswhosedailysurvivaldependedonthem.
EvenhereinAmerica,donkeysarestillusedforriding,packing,andworking.
Flashhadnoideahoweasyhehaditonourlittleacreage,whatwithhissupervisorypositionandall.Itwashightimehelearnedwhathewasmadefor.
“Mom,ourfriendBarbaraisnotdoingwell.”Meghantuckedastrayredcurlintoherloosebunandbitherlipinworry.“They’vebroughthospiceintotakecareofher.”
“Oh,I’mso,sosorry.”IknewhowdifficultthiswasforMeghanandNathan,whowerenowmarried,andtheirsmallcommunityoffriends.
NathanhadbefriendedBarbaraseveralyearsearlierwhenshewouldregularlysitinhistablesectionattherestaurantwhereheworkedduringcollege.
Barbarawasalonely,physicallychallengedwomanwhoneededsomeonetotalktoandoccasionalhelpwitherrandsandtasksaroundherapartment.Nathan,Meghan,
andtheirfriendshadmadethemselvesavailabletoassistherwhensheneededit.
Barbarahadnolivingrelatives,andasherhealthbegantodecline,shecametodependontheweeklyridestothegrocerystoreandcoffeeshopthatthefriendsprovided.Inashortperiodoftime,shebecameunabletoworkandwasforcedtolive
inasmallhotelroom,nearlydestitute.Atfifty-five,Barbarahadagedbeyondheryears,andshewasunderstandablybitteroverhersituation.
“Well,she...canbedifficult,”washowMeghandescribedheronce.“Butthat’sjustBarbara.She’shadahardlife.”ItwasakindwayofsayingthatBarbarawas
notaneasypersontolove.Shehadlonglistsofthingsshewantedhelpwith,butshewasn’talwaysappreciativeoftheassistanceshereceived.
Bynow,thegroupoffriendshadgraduatedfromcollegeandembarkedonnewcareers.Itbecamemorechallengingtomeetherneedsamidtheirgrowingresponsibilities,andBarbara
herselfwasmorecantankerousthanever.Dailychoresbecameunmanageable.Taskslikegettingdressed,takingcareofpersonalhygiene,andpreparingmealswerenearlyimpossibleforher.
ThefriendsjuggledtheirownbusyschedulesanddidtheirbesttohelpBarbarawiththemostbasicneeds.
Meghanarrangedhomehealthcare,scheduledsocialvisits,andevenassumedofficialpowerofattorney,allasshestartedherfirstyearasanelementarymusicteacher.Weworriedthatitwastoomuchforsuchayoungwomantohandle.
ButMeghanandherfriendswereallin.TheyhadtakenonBarbaraasa
personalmissionofmercy—andfoundthemselveslovingthisdifficultwomanwhomtheworldhadallbutforgotten.Whenshecouldnolongergetoutofbed,thestatesteppedinandmovedhertoanursinghome.Andnow,hospicehadarrived.
MeghanbegantomakearrangementsforBarbara’simminentpassing,butthere
werequestions.Whenapersonisawardofthestate,whotakesresponsibilityforherbodywhenshepasses?Whereissheburiedifthereisnoonewhowillvisithergrave?Whatdoyoudowithherbelongingsandpersonaltreasureswhenthereisnofamilymembertotakethem?Whowillperformafuneralforsomeonewhocannotget
outtoattendchurch?Andwhowillcometoaserviceforsomeonewholivedinsuchisolation?
Therewasnooneelse.Thisgroupoffriends
wouldseeBarbarathroughtotheend.
Sadly,shediedasshehadlived—alone,exceptforthecompanyofthehospicenurse
sincenooneelsecouldgetthereintime.
Barbara’smemorialservicewasheldinatinychapelonauniversitycampus.Tuckedundergiganticoaktrees,thestonestructurewashushedasahandfulofpeople—theformercollegekids—filedin.Atableinthefoyerheldcarefullydisplayedphotos
andmementosfromBarbara’slife:herfavoritecoffeecup,thehatshelikedtowear,apoemsheloved.
Meghanhadcollectedpersonalitemsfromherhospiceroomandagonizedoverwhattokeep.Therewasnofamilymembertogiveanythingto.Norelativewhowouldtreasureamemoryorsmileatafadedphoto.There
wasjustasmallgroupofyoungpeople—alittleoasisofloveinalifethathadbeenhard.
TomandIsatinthesecondpewandwatchedasoneofthegirlssetupafloralarrangementshe’dmade;anotherhandedoutaprintedprogram.Thenitwastimetobegin.TwoofBarbara’sfriendsledthesparse
assemblyinsongswithaguitaraccompaniment.Thereinthatsimplechapel,“AmazingGrace”hadneversoundedsweeter,resonatingonthestonewallsandthenfadingintothewinterair.Meghangaveaeulogy,andNathanspoke.Thoughtfulwords,carefullychosen,filledwithaffirmationandhonor.
Weweretheretoremembersomeonewhomtheworldoutsidehadalreadypassedby.Alifethathadbecomevery,verysmallattheend.Alifethat,somewouldsay,heldlittlemeaning.Butsomehow,thisassembledgroupofgrace-filledfriendshadvalidatedherexistencebyservingherinlove.Theyhadgoneoutof
theirway,makingpersonalsacrificesandgivingofthemselves,becausetheybelievedthatservingiswhattheyweremadefor.Barbara’slife,anddeath,matteredtothem.
Amazinggrace!Howsweetthesound...
Fordaysafterward,wewentaboutourworkwithquiethearts,deeplyimpacted
bythelovewe’dwitnessedatthesimpleserviceforthiswoman.Itfeltsacred,andwordsseemedfrivolous,unnecessary.IfilledFlash’shayrackwithhisdailyration,heldhisfaceinmyhands,andscratchedunderhischin.Heseemedtounderstandmyreluctancetotalkandsighed
gentlyasiftofillthespacesleftemptyofmynormalchatter.
Thatsameweek,wewerestunnedtohearthenewsthattworesidentsofourtown—ChrisKyleandhisfriendChadLitttlefield—hadbeenkilledwhiletheyweretryingtohelpsomeoneinthe
community.Ourlocalareawasgrievingthelossoftheseoutstandingmen.
Suddenlyforus,Barbara’spassingwasthrownintostarkcontrastwithKyle’sdeath.ThefamedUSNavySEALwhohadbecomeanationalherowastheepitomeofservicetohiscountry.Hisbestsellingbookandmovie,AmericanSniper,
detailshislifeandcommitmenttofreedom.Self-sacrifice,dedication,honor...hislifewasmarkedbytheseattributes,andittouchedeveryonearoundhim,includingourownfamily.KylehadgivenacoupleoftalksatGrayson’shighschool,whichwasalsoKyle’salmamater.Kylehadinspiredthekidstobecome
thebesttheycouldbeandtoservetheircountryunselfishly.
Wecouldn’tbelievesomeonewhohadachievedsuchgreatnesscouldbefromourobscureTexastown.Hewasjustaguyfromtheclassof1992who’dfoundwhathewasgoodat—andwentontobecomethemostdecorated
sniperinAmericanhistory.Hewasalarger-than-lifehero.
Andnow,hislifehadbeencutshort.
ThefuneralwastelevisedfromCowboysStadiuminnearbyArlington,Texas,andwesatathomeintearsaswewatchedtheceremony.Aflag-drapedcoffin,carriedbyNavySEALs,slowlymadeits
waytothefrontandwassetamiddozensoffloralarrangements.Thefamiliarstrainsof“AmazingGrace,”sungbycountrysingerRandyTravis,echoedthroughtheenormousstructure.Inmovingtribute,decoratedgeneralsspoke,friendsofferedeulogies,andhiswife,Taya,sharedherheartbreak.
Thefollowingday,wejoinedtensofthousandsofmournerslinedupalongthehighwaybetweenDallasandAustintopayourrespects.Facingachillingrainandgustywinds,weheldaflagasthelongprocessionofgovernmentdignitaries,NavySEALs,policeandfiredepartments,familyandfriendsallpassedbyin
silence.Helicoptersflewoverheadasnewscrewscapturedthescenesofenormousflagshungacrossbridgesandoverpasses,andthepeople,youngandold,whoturnedouttohonortheslainhero.
Thepassingofthesetwoindividualswithinsuchashortspanoftimecouldnothavebeenmorestriking.
Theyweresoverydifferent...andyettherewasastrandthatconnectedthem—acommonthreadbeneaththesurfacethathauntedme.One,whowashonoredbythousands,wasrememberedforhisunparalleledservice.Theother,whowashonoredbyatinyhandful,wasrememberedforwhatshe
couldnotgive.Oneservedmany;theotherwasservedbyafew.
Twopeople.Twofunerals.Twogiftsofservice.Itgotmepondering.Thoughonegaveandthe
otherreceived,itwasservicethatgaveeachlifemeaning.
IneededtotalkthingsoverwithFlash,andhesensedmyreadinesstodiscusswhathadtranspired.Asamemberofabreedmadeforservice,Ifiguredhemighthavesomeinsight,despitehislackofactualexperience.PullingupachairinthebarnonacoolFebruaryafternoon,withaStyrofoamcupofcoffeeinhand,soundedlike
justthetickettoenlightenment.
AsFlashnosedhiswaytowardmeinhopesofreceivinganappleslicealongwiththeconversation,IwasremindedofthedonkeyswhohadturnedupinmyInternetsearches—theoneswholookedlikethey’dsteppedoffthepagesofancienthistory
books.Saddledwithloadspiledhigh,pullingheavycarts,orcarryingsun-wizenedmeninturbans,theirnimblehoovesseemedtoechothroughtimeandland—plop—rightintheOldTestament.
TheBiblerecordsdonkeysasbeingvaluableassets.(Nopunintended.)Aman’sworth,backintheday,
wasmeasuredinland,cattle,sheep,goats,anddonkeys.Abitmorecumbersomethantoday’s“what’sinyourwallet”methodoftransactions,donkeyswereahottradecommodity,anditwasalwaysagoodideatohaveacoupledozeninyourbackpocket,sotospeak.Icanonlyimaginewomenapproachingtheirhusbands
aboutsomenewdraperyfabric,onsaleforalimitedtime,astravelingmerchantscamethroughtown.
“Honey,itwillonlycostthreedonkeys!That’sawholedonkeyofftheregularprice!”
Twenty-fivepercentoffhasalwaysbeengreatincentivetobuy.Somethingsneverchange.
Istartednoticingeverymentionofdonkeysinscripturaltext.Listedintermsofwealth,ceremoniallysetapart,riddenbyhistoriccharacters...donkeysarewovenintothefabricofbiblicallife.Atoolforeverydaywork,apropinanarrativestory,asymbolforroyalty.FromAbrahamtoJesus,donkeysserved.One
evenspokeoutloud!Thedonkeywhobore
Mary,themotherofJesus,isonewhoservedincompleteobscurity.Infact,heisnotevenmentionedintheGospels.Buttheeighty-miletrekfromNazarethtoBethlehemwouldlikelyonlyhavebeenpossiblewiththehelpofasturdydonkey,andtraditiontellsusthatMary
madetheuncomfortabletripatopthebackofonesuchanimal.IimagineMary’sbackachewasnodifferentfrommine,makingawalktothepantryforamidnightsnacknearlyimpossible,letaloneajourneybyfoottoadistanttown.Arideonthebonybackofadonkeywouldhavebeenawelcome
alternativetoapainfulpregnantwaddlethroughthedifficultterrain.
AsIlookedatFlash,IpicturedthatChristmasdonkeyinmymind.WhenJosephsaddledhimupandtiedextrapaddingdownforMary’sride,thedonkeycouldnothaveknownhewouldbemakingthetripofalifetime.Whenhestoppedtograzeby
thesideoftheroadandwasurgedonwardbyananxioushusband,theanimalcouldn’thaveimaginedthathisjourneywouldendinastablefilledwithholiness,angelicchoirs,obliviouscattle,andababywrappedinahandmadeblanket.Well,maybehe’dhaveguessedaboutthe“obliviouscattle”part.Imean...cattle,right?Buthecould
nothaveknownthattheentirecourseofhistorywasturningapage,andhewaspartofit.
No.Hesimplywalked.Hedidwhatwasasked.HefollowedJosephfor
eightymiles.Hishalter,madeofroughtwine,probablyrubbedhisnoseashecarriedthecomingSaviorandHisyoungmama.Thisdonkey
troddedalongtherockytrails,thecobblestonedroads,andthedustypathstoferrythepreciouscargothatwouldchangetheworld.
Hedidwhatdonkeysdobest:Heserved.
HowjustlikeGodtouseanotherdonkey,thirty-threeyearslater,tobringtheSavior-KingthroughJerusalemonanother
amazingjourney.HandpickedbyJesus,thisdonkeycouldnothaveknownthatthejobforwhichhewaschosenwouldbringgraceandforgiveness.HecarriedJesusthroughtheunevenstreets,steppingcarefullyovercloaksandpalmbranches,tothefinal,climacticsceneofRedemption.
Hailed,celebrated,famousforhisrole,thisPalmSundaydonkeyisforeverrememberedwheneverthestoryistold.
Buthedidnothingoutoftheordinary,foradonkey.
Hewalked.Hedidwhatwasasked.Hesimplydidwhat
donkeysdobest:Heserved.
Jesus’remarkablelifewasbookendedbytwodonkeyrides.Imaginethat.Thefirsttookplaceinobscurity,toatinystableinalittletown.Itendedwithababy’scry,someswaddlingclothes,andagaggleofshepherdswhocameinfromthefieldsforaglimpseofthePromisedOne.
ThelasttookplaceamidcheeringthrongsandagainstabackdropofPassoveranddeepsocialunrest.Itbroughtallofhumanhistorytoasingle,pivotalpointonthetimelineofeternity.Thisrideendedwithacryfromacross—“Itisfinished!”—andanemptytomb.
Iwasstruckbythepoeticdramaofitall.AmazedbythevividrealizationthatGodusesordinarymeanstodoextraordinaryfeats.There,inthebarnwithmycoffeeandthedonkeywhothinkshe’smidlevelmanagementattheveryleast,Iwasbowledoverbytheservicetheselowliestofcreatureshadrenderedtobringaboutthisstory.It’sas
ifGodchosetounfoldHisplanusingthemosthumbletoolsavailablesoHecouldreachhumankindwithHisgiftofgrace.
Isetmycupdownandbegantopulloutbrushes,rollers,andwoodstainsoIcouldworkonsomesignpostsweweremakingforoneofthecampusesofalargecorporation.Sometimes
Ithinkbestwhenmyhandsarebusy.Ipositionedthepainttrayandpouredinthedarkespresso-coloredstain.
Flashwatchedmyeverymovewithinquisitiveeyes,thensteppedforwardtoinspectthecolorinthetray.Withhisnosejustabovethestain,heseemedtogivemetheokaytoproceed.Ifonlyhooveshadthumbs!(Wetake
beingabletogivea“thumbs-up”soforgranted,don’twe?Imaginehowharditwouldbetofunctionwithhoovesforhands.Andtexting?Impossible.)
Flashapprovedthestackoffour-by-fourpoststhatwereawaitingstainandassembly,butfoundfaultwiththeropethathadtiedthemtogether,whichwas
nowcarelesslytossedaside.Hepickeditupwithhisteethandshookitvigorouslyinfrontofme.Hewasright:Ropesshouldn’tbeleftaround,waitingforsomeonetotriponthem.Chastened,Itooktheropefromhismouth,loopeditaroundmyarm,andhungitonanail.
Postafterpost.Itfeltlikethejobofstainingthemtookforever.ButFlashhunginthere,keepingmecompanyandofferingsilentsuggestions.Atailswishhere,aneartwitchthere.Heguzzledthelastsipofmycoffee,thensteppedontheStyrofoamcupwhenhewasthrough.Hebitoffachunkofthecupandletitdanglefrom
hislipsincomicrelief.Ican’tsayhewasawholelotofhelpwithmyproject,butIbegantoseesomethingabouthimthatmademeunderstandthisideaofserving.
Tom’sjokingcommentwasallwrong:Flashwasn’tcompletelyworthless.
Hewasjustservinginotherways.
FlashwasservingupsomeofthebestsermonsI’deverheard...allwithoutsayingasingleword.
Thosebiblicaldonkeys.Meghanandherfriends.ChrisKyle.Ordinarycharactersfromordinarytowns,whoseservicetoothersmadethemextraordinary.Humbleoneswhohadfoundwhatthey
weremadetodo.Theyservedinobscurity,lookedfornopersonalglory,andsimplygaveofthemselves.
Theywalked.Theydidwhatwasasked.Theydidwhatdonkeys
andpeopledobest:Theyserved.
Intheprocessofserving,theybestowedvalueonthosetheyserved.
Andintheactofgiving,theychangedtheworld.TheybecamepartofGod’sunfolding,amazinggrace.
IrealizedthatGodtakesregularpeople—unassumingindividualswhoarewillingtoplaysupportingroles—andusestheminHisgrandstorythat’sbeingplayedoutoneternity’sstage.Hetakesthosewhoarewillingtobe
saddledup,loadeddown,andgiventhetaskofserving,andHeputstheminplaceswheretheirabilitiescanbestbeused.
Maybeyou’renotaskedtodosomethingnoteworthyorremarkable.Maybeyouaresimplycalledtowalkalongsidesomeoneforeightymiles.Tobeafriendtosomeonewhoneedsafriend.
Ortodothatonekindthingthatnoonewilleverknowyoudid.Maybeit’swashinganeedywoman’slaundry.Maybeit’shelpinghershower.Maybeit’sarrangingflowersatasmallfuneralinatinychapel.Maybeit’sworkingatapostoverseas,awayfromfamilyandfriends,formonthsonend.Maybeit’schangingdiapers,
washingdishes,helpingwithhomework,beingascoutleader,ormowinganelderlyneighbor’syard.
Thisiswhatwearemadefor.
Toserve.Tolove.Togive.AndIcouldseeitso
clearly.
BeingpartofHisgracestorymeansallowingyourlifetobebookendedbytwodonkeyrides.Youenterandyouexit,inhumbleservice.Itmeansthatyouaredefinedbywhatyougive,notbywhatyouhave.Yourlifeismarkednotbytalent,butbycommitment.Notbybeauty,butbysturdyhoovesandawillingheart.
“Beaserviceanimal.Youaremadetoserveinlove.”
Iwrotethewordsinmyjournal,myfingersespresso-coloredfromtheprojectIhadjustfinished.Iknewitwouldtakedaysforthestaintoworkitselfoutfromundermyfingernails.Ohwell.Iturnedmyhandsoverandraisedmypalmsupinasilentprayer.Flashsteppedforwardtosee
iftherewasanythingediblecuppedinside,thenlookedupatmeininquiry.
“Baby,there’snothinghereforyou.”Ishookmyheadandpausedforamoment,wonderingifhe’dunderstand.“I’m...I’mgivingthesehandstoGodrightnow.”Roughandstained,smallandempty.Butreadytowork,willingto
give.Flashnuzzledmypalmsandnoddedinagreement,hisbrowneyesuponmeandsoftearsprickedforward.Heblinkedhisdarklashes,andIputmyarmsaroundhisneck.
Thisdonkey.Thisserviceanimal.ThisGodwhowhisperedthroughhim.
“Letmeserveothersinlove,thewayIwasmadetodo.”Myprayerfloatedpast
thecorrugatedmetalroofandgnarledtreebranchesandintothewinterskyabove.
Beaserviceanimal.Youaremadetoserveinlove.
Therewaschangeinthewind.Notnickelsanddimesfloatingthroughtheair,becauseimaginehowmuchitwouldhurtifyougotpeltedbyrandomcoins.
No,thetypeofchangethatblewinwasdifferent.ItfeltlikeachillyMarchmorning,allgrayanddamp,whenyou’reoutsideinyourjacketwithyourfingers
tuckedintoyoursleevesandshouldershunchedwithchindownagainstthewind.Andoutofnowhere,thereisaflickerofdappledsunlightthatfallsonyourfurrowedforehead,anditfeelswarmforatinymomentbeforeskitteringaway.DidIreallyfeelthat?OrdidIimagineit?
No,thosecloudsaretooheavyforthesuntobreakthrough.
Butthen,abitlater,youfeelthatsunonyourfaceagain,thistimeforacoupleofseconds,justlongenoughforyoutouncurlyourfingerstotrytocatchitbeforeit’sgone.It,too,dartsaway,butyouknowyoufeltit.Youhadtosquintinthebrightness,
andnowthereisafunnypatternontheinsidesofyoureyelidsfromtheunexpectedshaftoflight.Andeventhoughtherestofthedayisstillgrayanddampandchilly,youfeelatinybithopefulandhappyinsidebecauseyouexperiencedthosetwofleetingmoments
(well,maybejustonebecausethefirstonecouldhavebeenyourimagination).
SuddenlyyouthinkaboutEastereggsandthefactthatyouhaven’tusedupallthefirewoodandhaven’twornyourcutebootsenoughthiswinter.Yourealizeyoushouldhaveputtulipbulbsintherefrigeratorweeksago,andit’salreadytoolateifyou
wanttohavebloomsthisyear.TheChristmaswreaththatsomehownevergotpackedupwiththerestoftheholidaydecor(youwereokaywithleavingitoutbecauseitseemed“wintery”andnottoo“Christmasy,”andyoualsodidn’tfeellikeclimbingintotheattictoputitaway)nowseemshorriblyoutofplace.
Springisuponus.Wecan’thaveafakepinewreathonthedoor!
Youthinkaboutallthis,eventhoughit’sjustascoldandmiserableoutasitwastenminutesago.Youcouldn’twaitforahintofsunshineandabreakinthecloudstosignalanewseason,
butnowthatit’shere,yourealizeyouaren’tevenclosetobeingreadyforit.
That’swhatonewaftofchange(maybetwo,dependingonhowyoucountthem)cando.
IstoodatthekitchenwindowandwatchedGraysonhitgolfballsintothefieldjustbeyondthefrontyard.Helineduphisdriver,shiftingweightbetweenfeetandtakingacoupleofshortswingstocentertheballonhisclub.Histongueworkedhislowerlipinconcentration.Hisarmsswungtheclubbackinclassicgolfform.Whack!
Theballflewoutoverthetallgrassandintotheoaksalongthedrycreekbed.
Beau,whooncelovedretrievingballs,satinquietreposenearby,contentwithbeinganarmchairathletethesedays.Hishipsanddecliningeyesightkepthimsidelined,buthenevercomplained.BothGrayandBeauweregettingolder,but
onlyoneofthemwasgettingbiggerandstrongerwitheachyear.Theothertooktonappingandtailwaggingasformsofexercise.GraysonreacheddownandtriedtotalkBeauintofetching,buthewasn’ttookeenonleavinghiscomfyspotonthegrasstofutilelysearchforaballinthethicket.
“IthinkI’mgoingtosetupapracticeareaforGrayinthebarn.”Tom’svoicedriftedovermyshoulderashecameupbehindmetoseewhatwashappening.“He’sreallymotivatedtogetgoodatit,andhewantstopracticehisswingasmuchashecan.Buthe’slosingsomanyballsinthefieldoutthere,andit’sfrustratingtryingtofind
them.”Hescratchedhischin.“I’vegotsomenettingthatwecouldhangacrosstheopening.Thenallwe’dreallyneedtodoismakealittletee-offarea,andwe’dbeset.”
Thissoundedsimpleenough,sotheboyswenttowork.Ofcourse,Flashwasonhandtooverseetheproject.Notellinghowtheywouldhavemesseditup
otherwise.Hewatchedastheyraisedthenettingintoplaceandsecureditonthetopandsides.Halfofthethree-sidedbarnwasopenbutcoveredbythetinroof;thiswouldallowGraysontostandinside,outoftheelements,topractice.
Flashhadlittletosayabouttheproceedings,althoughwenotedhis
agitationwhentheteeinggreenwasplacedinthecenteroftheopenarea.Apieceofplywoodcoveredwithartificialturf,itwouldmakeagoodplaceforGraysontoworkonhisswing.Flashsniffedthesurfaceandnibbledatthecornerwithhisteeth.
“Flash,that’snotrealgrass,yousilly.”Wechuckledathimandthenbecameslightlypuzzledwhenhisfronthoofcamedownonitwithathud.Heblewhardthroughhisnostrilsandstampedonceagain.
“Hey,buddy,”Tomsoothedhim.HemovedclosetoFlashandranhishandalonghisback,thenleaned
onhisshoulderstogethimtostepback.Tomlookedhimintheeye.“You’renottellingmeyou’reobjectingtothegolfstuffinhere,areyou?”
Flashshookhisearsasiftoshowhisindifferenceandthenturnedonhisheelandmoseyedout.Iguesshewasjusthavingsomefunwithus.
Anxioustotryouthisnewpracticearea,Graysonawokeearlythenextmorningtogetafewswingsinbeforeschool.Howhandytohaveeverythingallsetup!Hehurriedouttothebarn.
Minuteslaterhewasback,astrangelookonhisface.“Mom,thebarnhasbeenvandalized!Youneedtocomeandseethis.”
Ifollowedhimoutsideandstoppedinmytracksatthesight.
Theturf-coveredplywoodteehadbeendestroyed.Itwasdraggedofftotheside,dentedandcoveredwithdirt.Initsplace,someonehadclearedthelayersofloosedirtandwoodshavings,exposingthehardground.Thenettinghadbeentornononesideand
washanginglimplyfromtheupperbeam.Anoverturnedchairlayinthecorner.Itlookedasifatornadohadblownthrough.
Butthecoupdegrâcewasrightinfrontofus.Itwasapileofdonkeypoop,smackinthemiddleofthedirtfloor.
Acallingcard,ifyouwill.Thiswastheworkofone
angrydonkey.
Itsuddenlycametome.Ohmy.JustliketheChristmasboxes.Howcouldwehaveforgotten?Afewyearsearlier,aftertheholidays,Ihadpackedupthedecorationsandputtheboxesinthebarn’sopenareafortemporarystorage.Flashhadwaiteduntilhethoughtnoonewaslookingbeforeattackingtheboxes.Weheard
thesoundofcardboardbreakingandthetinklingofornamentsbeingsmashedbeforewerealizedwhatwashappening.Good-bye,1989HallmarkSnoopyornamentanduntoldnumberoflights.
AndthentherewastheWorkbenchFiasco.Howquicklyithadbeenerasedfromourmemories.Butnowthatyoumentionit,who
couldforgetthemayhemthatensuedwhenaworktablewasintroducedtothestallareabeforethebarnrenovationtookplace?Thestallwasunused.Flash’snamewasnotoverthedoor.Nobodyhadclaimtoit.Itwasaperfectlylogicalplacetosetupshopforthevariousprojectswehadgoingon.
Thatis,logicaltoeveryoneexceptacertainlong-eared,opinionatedmemberoftheequinefamily,whoshallgounnamed.Thetablewasattheperfectheightforalarge,fuzzymuzzletosniffandinspecteverything.Oneeasyswipeofthenose,anditcouldallbeoverturnedandknockedtotheground.Thetools,thewood,the
papers,themeasuringtape,theworkgloves.Inandout,asmoothoperationbyanexperiencedvandal.
AndhowisitthatwedidnotconsidertheNewFenceSituation?Tomtriedrepeatedlytorunanewfencearoundasmallsectionofthepastureinwhichhehadcreatedahockeytrainingareafortheteamshecoached.He
madestationsoutofsyntheticicethathadbeendonatedtohimsotheplayerscouldpracticeshootingpucksinwhatiscalled“drylandtraining.”Hedidnotneedasix-hundred-pounddonkeywalkingacrossthesyntheticiceorpoopingininconvenientlocations.Ormovingthesyntheticicesheetsornibblingatthe
targets.ButsomehowFlashmanagedtosneakthroughthebarricadesandmagicallyappearoutofnowhereinthecordoned-offarea.He’dnonchalantlygraze,asifnothingwereoutoftheordinary.Ifhecouldn’tstopthechangefromhappening,atleasthecouldpretenditdidn’taffecthim.
ThentherewastheUtilityTrailerIncident,whichwewon’tgointohere,excepttoquietlymentionthatFlashdidn’tappreciatehavingitparkednearhisfavoriterollspotinthepasture.Andalsothathe“unloaded”(which,inthisinstance,means“forciblyremovedbymeansofchompinginto,dragging,and
dumpingout”)thecontentsofthetrailertogettothebagoffeedatthebottom.
It’ssafetosaythatFlashwelcomeschange,justaslongasnothingisdifferentoralteredinanyway.
“Toomuchchangeforoneday.”Handsinpockets,Tomassessedthegolfcarnageanddeliveredhispronouncement.“Weshould
havedonethisgradually.”Hepulledthetatteredteeplatformfrombeneaththedirttomenditandstapledthenetbackinplace.Ishoveledthe“callingcard.”Wewouldtryagain.
Nextday,samething.Teekickedandburiedunderdirt,nettorndown,rollspotcleared,chairoverturned,pooppilefrontandcenter.At
leastFlashwasconsistent.And,apparently,regular.Oddly,healwayslookedjustassurprisedaseveryoneelseeachmorningwhenwecameintoinspectthedamage.
“Don’tlookatme,”heshruggedwithaphhhht,hislipsvibratinglikeamotorboat.Asiftherecouldbeanyoneelse.Therewasno
remorse.Onlyaslighttwitchofhislargeearsthatbeliedhissmugclaimofinnocence.
Wecontinuedinthispatternonandofffordaysuntilthedestructiongraduallyceased.Flashneverreallylikedthegolfequipmentinthere,butafterawhilehewascontentwithmerelykickingdirtovertheteeandwalkingoveritwheneverhefeltlikeit
toshowhisdisdainforthechanges.Hewantedeverythingtostayexactlyasithadbeen,withhimselfincontrolofhislittleworld.
AndIcouldn’tblamehim.Ifeltthesameway.
Becausethingswereshiftinginmylittleworldoutsidethebarn.Somehow,Graysongrewtallerthanme,andIwasn’tsurewhenthat
hadhappened,exactly.Hisfeethungofftheendofhisbedatnight,andwhenItuckedhimin,Inoticedhowhisframenowfilledthefull-sizemattress.Hewouldbeheadingofftocollegesoon,andtherewereapplicationstofillout,teststotake,andlotsofnewthingstoexperience.Iwasexcitedforhimbutsuddenlyfeltuncertainabout
whoI’dbewithoutchildrenundermycare.Mychestwasheavyandlightatthesametime.
LaurenandRobertwerehopingtostartafamilysoon,andmyheadnearlyexplodedatthethought.ItwasjustafewyearsagothatIhadgrievedoverthelossofCollinanddesperatelywantedtofillthevacancyin
myheartwithanewbaby,andnow...nowmyoldestchildwasthinkingofhavingbabiesofherown.
Meghan,grownandmarried,wasteachingelementarymusic.Suchhappy,wonderfulchanges,butifI’dhadaboxtostomponorachairtooverturn,Imighthavedoneit.
Ashaftofsunlightonafurrowedbrow.Fingersclenchedinsleeves,refusingtounfurl.
Ane-maillandedinmyin-box.Itwasfromacompletestranger,askingifIwouldbe
interestedinspeakingatherchurch’swomen’sretreatinIllinois.
“I’vebeenreadingyourblog,andyourwordshavetouchedme.Iwonderifyoumightcomeandsharewithmyladiesthisfall,”shewrote.IrereaditseveraltimestomakesureIunderstoodtherequest.
BecauseIwantedtobecertainthattheterrorIfeltwaswellgrounded.
Runwithhorses,Rachel.Runwithhorses.Orjustrun.
So,ofcourse,Iimmediatelyputthee-mailaside.Iformulatedmygraciousdecline.“Thankyouforyourlovelyinvitation,butIamcurrentlyparalyzedfrom
theeyesdown,andI’malsobusythatweekend,andeveryotherweekend,withathing.”
Icouldneverstandupandspeaktoagroupofwomen.Rememberthedroolingandtheblackingoutinthebusinessmeeting?I’mstillnotoverit.Plus,Ihavenothingtosay.Bloggingisonething,namelybaringyoursoultotheworldfrombehind
acomputerscreen.I’dbeenwritingonlineforyears,somethingI’dcometoloveasacreativeoutletandasawaytohelpothersfindasenseofsanctuaryintheirbusylives.Ihadnoproblemwiththat.Speakingisanotherthing,namelysharingyourexpertisewithpeoplewhoareactuallypresentintheroom,staring
backatyouandtakingnotes.I’mprettymuchterrifiedofthat.
Thefamiliarvoicesbeganwhispering:You’reafailure.Afraud.Youdon’thaveanythingtoshareoutloud.You’retoounworthy.You’renotgoodenough.
Rememberyourname.Rememberwhoseyouare.Wait.What’syourname
again?“Iwouldliketotalkmore
withyouaboutyourevent,”Itypedback.Notexactlyano,butalsonotayes.Anoncommittalreplymightbuymesometime.Perhapstheladywouldgoaway.
“WhenmayIcallyou?”cametheresponse.Shewasn’tgoingaway.
“Tuesdayat10:00a.m.wouldworkgreat!”WhyIwasusinganexclamationpointwasbeyondme.WhatIreallywantedtodowasrunandhide.
FindyourrefugeinMe.YoucanhideintheshelterofMywings.
Aswebeganhavingphoneconversationsabouttheevent,Ifoundmyself
turningtothepagesofmyjournalsandblogpostsandsortingthroughold,scribblednotes.Evenasthegroundbeneathmyfeetfeltshaky,Istartedtoseesomemessageswithinthescribbles.Aphrasehere,aScripturethere,adonkeystoryinamarginofanotebook.
Sayyes,Rachel.Don’tletfearkeepyoufrommovingforward.Keepputtingonefootinfrontoftheother.Blazeanewtrail.
Adatewassetandairlineticketspurchased.Icommittedtoit,andtherecouldbenoturningback.Buttherewasstillregularworktobedone.Ladderstohaul,sketchestodraw,projectsto
complete,billstopay,dinnerstomake.Thecloudsabovewerestillheavy,butIknewI’dfeltarayofwarmthonmyfacethatmademethinkanewseasonmightbeahead.OrdidIimagineit?
Theretreatwentwell,Ithought.Ihadpreparedlikecrazyformyspeakingsessionsandobsessedovermyhair.Obviously,the
timingofroottouch-upsiscrucial.Youcannotaffordtounderplanthis.Andbecausemyhairlookedsogood,IhopeditmadeupforwhatIlackedinsmoothsentencetransitions.Ireturnedhomewithapocketfullofsweetthank-younotesandalittletasteofconfidence.Wow!
Andtherewerebiggeropportunities.Somemonthslater,IfoundmyselfsittingacrossthetablefromatoptalentmanagerinNashville.I’dbeeninvitedtheretodiscussrepresentationandtoexploretheprospectsofstartingaspeakingtour,marketingmyart,andwritingabook.Me.Seriously?Myheadspunwithideasand
possibilities!Whatanincredibleturnofevents.
Butthistime,Itotallybotchedit.Ididn’treturnphonecalls,missedadeadline,andavoidedmakingthecommitment.Inshort,Ichoked.“Thiswon’tworkifIwantitforyoumorethanyouwantitforyou,”thetalentmanagertoldme.AndIknewshewasright.
It’sfunnyhowyouyearnforchange,forsomethingnew,foraluckychance,foranendtothemonotony,forlifeasyouknowittojuststop,tojustgoaway...andthenwhenthatchangecomes,youstartbackpedalingandpullingouteveryreasonyouwantthingstostaythesame.Youthinkofallthewaysyou’renotready.Youthink
ofallthethingsyou’llmiss.Youevendothingstosabotagemovingforward.
Irememberasakidsittinginthe“wayback”seatofthefamilystationwagon,acarthatwasroughlythelengthofanoceanliner,withfauxwoodpanelingonthesides.Welovedthefactthat
ithadautomaticwindowsandwastheperfectshadeofavocadogreen.
The“wayback”seatwastheonethatgotpulledupfromthestorageareaintherearandfacedbackward.IcanstillfeelthesensationofbarrelingtowardadestinationIcouldnotseewhilewatchingthroughthebackwindowastheroadfellaway
behindus.Thedashedlanemarkersseemedtoemergefromsomewherebelow,allhugeandoversized,thenquicklygetsmallerandsmalleruntiltheydisappearedastinydotsintonothingness.Itfeltliketimetravel,butwithmotionsickness.Everyoneknowsit’saterribleideatorideinavehicle
backward.Don’teventhinkaboutreadingabook,unlessyouhaveabarfbaghandy.
Butmovingtowardadestinationyoucan’tsee?Watchingthepast,whereyou’vebeen,fallaway?Evenasnewseasonsofopportunitiesandpersonalgrowthwerearoundthebend,IwantedtoholdontoeverythingIhad,everything
I’dknown.Thislife—thisbeautiful,messylife—waschangingonceagain,andtherewassomuchIhadn’tdoneinthisseasonyet.
Grayson’slastyearsathomefeltbittersweet.Whenwe’dmovedtothisfunkybarnhouse,hewaseight.Eight!Akidwithanorthodonticapplianceandapenchantforbuildingmodel
airplanes.LaurenandMeghanwereinhighschoolandfixatedontheirhair(Idon’tknowwheretheygotthat),choir,youthgroup,andadizzyingscheduleofactivities.Flasharrivedjustastheywereleaving,andIcametobelievehewasalittlegiftfromabovetooccupymymindandassuagethemama-ache.
Nowthegirlshadmadeitallthewaythroughcollegeandintonewmarriages,andGraysonwasheadingofftostudyaerospaceengineering...andIcouldn’tbemoreproud.Ormorebrokenhearted.
HowmanytimeshadIwishedIcouldwalkdownthedriveway,awayfrommotherhoodandwork
projectsandallthelaundry?HowmanytensediscussionshadTomandIhadoverhouseholdrules,chores,activities,haircuts,andhomeworkthatmademewanttorunaway?HowoftenhadIcomplainedabouttheExplorerandtheworkloadandtheburdenofshaping
younglives,whichalwaysfeltmorelikeherdingcatsthanactualshaping?
Now,motherhoodwasfallingawaybehindme,andIwashurtlingtowardadestinationIcouldn’tsee.Agreatunknown.Iwasn’tpreparedforparenthoodtodisappearasatinydotintonothingness.Ihadn’tevenstartedtheirscrapbooksyet!
AndIhadforgottentoshowGraysonhowtofoldfittedsheets.MyearlierconfidencethatIwouldaccomplishthesethingsbeforethekidsleftnowmademefeelawfullypresumptuous.
Andtotopitalloff,thehorsesnextdoordisappeared.Flash’sbabymama,hisdarlinglittlemule,andtherestofthegroupjustupand
movedoffwiththeirownersomewhere.No!Ileanedonthegate,stillwiredshutfromthenightFlashhadbrokenthehinge,andscannedthefieldforanytraceofthem.Nothing.Itfeltstrangeandempty,likeonemorethinghadslippedthroughmygrasp.
Thegateprotestedmyweightwithasqueak,asiftellingmetomoveon.ButonelookatFlash’sexpressiontoldmethatmovingonwouldn’tbesoeasy.They’dbeensuchidealcompanionsforhim,hangingtheirheadsoverthefenceandshootingthebreezewithhimeachday.NowwhowouldFlashhave?Certainlynot
Beau,theobjectofhisunaffection.Somethingwouldhavetobedone,butIdidn'twanttoconsiderthatnow.
Apuffofwind,changeintheair.Aphonecalltocomeandspeak.Aninvitationtowriteforahigh-profileblog.Abotchedchanceatstardom.Anopportunityforourbusinesstochange.Kids
drivingoffwithatrunkfullofbelongings.Amonthinwhichprojectstookplaceinfrontofacomputerscreeninsteadofonaladderwithapaintbrushinhand.
Stilljuggling,stillkeepingasmanyballsintheairasyoucan,becauseyouneverknowwhenyou’llneedoneofthem.Youthinkyouhaveanideahoweverything
isgoingtoturnout,andinamomentofclarityfindoutyou’reridingbackwardandsomeoneelseisdrivingthestationwagon.Youfightforcontrol.Stompabox.Leaveacallingcard.
Andintheend,youletgo.
Suddenly,allthelessonsIhadlearnedfromFlashcamefloodingin.Refuge,
rememberingyourname,runningwithhorses,wearingyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve,findingyourpassion,servingothers....
Allalong,Godhadbeenquietlyteachingmethroughacharming,bucktoothed,opinionated,sweetdonkey.AndnowHewasguidingme—us—throughmorechanges.WouldIkeepkickingand
resistanythingalteredordifferent,orwouldIlearntoapplythelessonsandadjustmyoldwaysofthinking?WouldIopenmyarmstonewexperiences,orbesofocusedonthepresentandthepastthatI’dmissthem?
Mylittlenotes,onscrapsofpaperhereandthere,werebeingchallengedtocometolife...tobecomereal.To
takeonskinandbones,andbreatheinair,andbecomemorethancuteaxiomstapedtomydesk.IfGodwasrealandtrue,anddeeplyinvolvedwiththedetailsofmylife,thenallofthiswasforsomething.Nothingwouldbewasted.
ButonlyifIchosetoembraceanewseason.
Flashfiguredoutthatthrowingatempertantrumanddestroyingthethingshecouldnotchangewerefutileattemptstocontrolhislittleworld.Onceherealizedthattherewasnothingtofear,andthatgoodthingscouldcomefromthechangesheresisted,hesettleddown.Helearnedthatthechanges,likethegolfandhockeyareasandthe
workshop,broughtpeopleintohisworld.Andmorepeopleequaledmoreattention.Moreattentionequaledahappydonkey.Hejustcouldn’tseeitatthetime.Oddly,gettinghisearsscratchedmoreoftenhelpedhimcomearoundtothisdeepspiritualtruth:Changeisagoodthing.
Muchofthetime,thechangeswefacefeellikelittlemorethannearlyimperceptiblepuffsofwind.C.S.Lewisoncesaid,“Isn’titfunnyhowdaybydaynothingchanges,butwhenyoulookback,everythingisdifferent.”Theincrementalshifts,thetinytectonicmovements,thewayyourkid’sfacelosesthatbaby
softnessandbecomesleanandchiseled,withoutyourevennoticinguntilyouwatchhimsleeponenight.Thewayyougiveeverythingyouhavetolifeandthinkit’snothingmuchtooffer,butthereitis.Takeit.Andthewayitstartscomingbacktoyou.
Thepatternsontheinsidesofyoureyelidstellyouthesunhaspoked
throughtheclouds,forjustamoment,andthereischangeintheair.
Youmustunfurlyourfingerstocatchthefirstrays.
Embracechange.Don’tletfearoftheunknownkeepyoufrommovingforward.
“SorryaboutBeau.”GraysonshruggedapologeticallyandmotionedwithhisheadtothedrippingyellowLab.Islidtheglassdooropentogreettheminthebreezeway,andamuggyblastofsummerairpusheditswayinasIsteppedoutside.Beauplantedhisfeet,shakingpondwaterfromhisbodyinaviolentvibrationthatstartedathisnoseand
endedatthetipofhisthicktail.Hesneezedandlookedupatmewithanexpressionofsheerjoy.
“Ihadhimintheboatwithme,buthejumpedintothewatertocooloffandthenwentforaswim,”Grayexplained,settinghistackleboxdownanduntyinghismuddyshoes.“Youknowhowheis.”
“Ohbrother.Beau,you’regoingtosmellfortwodays.”Ichidedthedog,buthedidn’tseemtheleastbitconcernedwithmyscolding.Helumberedtohiswaterdishandlappedatitnoisilybeforefloppingdownonthecoolcementfloor.Hesoundedlikeaspongehittingpavement,thewatersplatteringoutwardfromhissaturatedfurcoat.
He’sgoingtobestifffordays,too,Ithought.DearoldBeau.Butmaybetheswimwasgoodforhisarthritis.Iwashappythathehadenjoyedsomephysicalactivity—somethinghe’dalwayslovedasayoungerdog.
Foryears,Beau’spowerfulphysiquemadehimtheperfectcountry
companion:HeregularlyracedtheExplorerupthedriveway,clockinganeasytwentymilesperhouronthequarter-mileruntothehouse.Helopedalongbytherightfronttire,pinktongueflappingfromthesideofhismouth,untilthesoundofthegasbeingappliedcausedhimtoengagehisafterburners.Headtuckedandtongue
retracted,hismightyfrontpawspulledtheearthbeneathhim,andhismuscularhindlegspropelledhimforwardinagoldenblur.Theracealwaysendedinatie,Beaubrakingtowaghisentirebodyinexcitedwelcome.
Thedogcouldkeepfetchingstickstossedintothepondlongafteryourarmcouldpossiblycontinue
throwing.He’dleapintothewaterwithagiantka-ploosh,swimouttothestick,pickitupwithhisteeth,andcirclebackaroundtowardshore.Sometimeshe’djustpaddlearoundthepondwiththestick,asifhewassohappytobefetchingthathedidn’tknowwhattodowithhimselfexcepttakeacoupleofextralaps.Ifyoudepletedyour
supplyofsticks(orifyourarmgaveout,whichevercamefirst),he’dgrabagiantlogfloatinginthewaterandbringittoyou.Hisloveofwateralsomadehimanaturalhuntingdog.Hecouldsitmotionlessinaduckblindforhours,thenswimthroughicywatertoretrievefallenbirds.
Beautookituponhimselftoguardtheentirepropertywithhisdailycircuitsalongthefencelines,hisnoseandtailworkingfromsidetoside,andmakinguseofhisbottomlessbladderbymarkinghisterritorywithboundlessenthusiasm.Hechasedoffwanderingdogsandcoyotes,scaredupbirds,andsentbunniesscurrying
intotheirholes;butthenhewouldcomebackandgraciouslyallowthegirls’kittenstopouncealloverhimandplaywithhistail.
Beau,onehundredpoundsoffriendly,coveredinnearlywhite,sheddingfur,hadoncebeenan“outsideonly”dog,andIlikeditthatway.Butsomehow,hehadfinagledhiswayindoors
duringthecoldestnightsofwinterandthehottestdaysofsummer...andgradually,everythinginbetween.Hiswetblacknoseandpleadingbrowneyesweredifficulttoresist,andsincehewasgoodaboutstayingoffthecarpetedareasofthehouse,weallowedhimin.
Well,Itakethatback.Hewasn’tthatgoodaboutstayingoffthecarpetedareas.Hewasverygoodaboutstayingdownstairs—onthecarpet,ofcourse.AndhewasonlygoodaboutthedownstairspartuntiloneOctobernight,aboutayearafterwe’dmovedin.
“Tommy,wakeup!”IshookTomawakeatthesoundofapeculiarnoisecomingfromtheotherroom.Something,orsomeone,wasmovingaroundGrayson’sbedroominthemiddleofthenight.MyhandsclutchedTom’sarm.Anintruder?Aburglar?
Weheldourbreathandlistenedamomentlonger,ourheartbeatspoundinginour
ears.Tomslowlyslidoutofbedandcrepttothedoor.HesteppedthroughthesmallhallwayatthetopofthestairsandpausedatGrayson’sdoortopeerinside.Iheardhimletouthisbreath.
“Rachel,it’sokay,”hewhispered.“Comeinhere.”Iflippedthecoversbacktofollowhim.
ThemoonlightfilteredthroughGrayson’swindowblinds,revealingthesilhouetteofourintruder,whowasstandingnexttothebedofourthennine-year-oldson.ItwasBeau.WithhisnosejustinchesfromGrayson’sface,hewatchedtheboybreathe,hischestrisingandfalling.In.Out.In.Out.Thetipofthedog’stail
movedslightly,lettingusknowthathewasawareofourpresence,buthisresoluteprofiledidn’twaveraninch.
“What’sgoingon,Beau?”He’dneverchallengedourdownstairs-onlyrulebefore.Tompattedthedog’sheadandreachedforwardtostraightenGrayson’spillow.Heturnedtomeinalarm.
“Gray’sburningup,”Tomsaid,feelinghisforeheadandpullingofftheblankets.Irantogetcoolwashclothsandmedicinetobringhisfeverdown.
Thenextmorning,atriptothedoctor’sofficeandX-raysatthehospitalrevealedpneumoniainGrayson’slungs.We’dknownthatGraysondidn’tfeelwell
whenweputhimtobedthatnight,butwehadnoideahowserioushisillnesswas.Yetsomehow,Beausensedit.Forthenextthreenights,thedogremainedathisbedsideuntiltheantibioticsbegantoworkandtheworstwasover.Hisbuddyneededhim.
IguesswefiguredBeauhadearnedtherighttogoupstairsandsleepwherever
hewanted.Mostly,hechosetocurluponthesmallhookedrugnexttoGrayson’sbed,rightwheretheboy’shandcouldreachdownandscratchhisblockyhead,causingthedog’sheavytailtothumpontheflooratoddhoursofthenight.
IlookedatBeaunow,soggyandhappyfromhisafternoonswim.“Walkwithmetothebarn,”Icalledtohim.“Itwillhelpyoudryoffandkeepyoufromstiffeningup.”Hepulledhimselfup,hishindlegsreluctant,andgaveanothervigorousshakebeforeaccompanyingmetothegate.
Liftingtheheavychainfromthenail,Ipushedthemetalgateopenandsteppedintothepasture.Thegroundwashardanddryundermyfeet,andthesparsesummergrassclungtothecrackedearthfordearlife.Beaustoppedatthefencepostandsatdown,refusingtogoanyfarther.HewasatTheLine.
TheLinehadbeendrawnfromdayoneofFlash’sresidency,anditfollowedthefenceexactly.Thepie-shapedpastureononesideofthefencewasFlash’sterritory,withtheremaininglandontheothersidebelongingtoBeau.Madeofwoodpostsconnectedbygalvanizedwiremesh,thefenceprovidedthe
legalframeworkforthetwoanimalstoworkwithin.Beauwasrespectinghislimits.
“Youstayonyourside,andI’llstayonmine”werethegeneraltermsofagreementthetwoabidedby.Buttherewereexceptions,suchastheselaidoutbyFlash:
1.Dogmayenterpasture
1.Dogmayenterpasturewhenaccompaniedbyahuman.
2.Dogmaynotdrinkfromdonkey’swaterbucket.
3.Dogmaysitinbarn,butonlyifaccompaniedbyhumans.
4.Dogmaynotbark,whine,orlookappealingwhiledonkeycompleteshis
interactionwithsaidhumans.
5.Dogisnotpermittedtomakeeyecontactwithdonkey.
Beau,forhispart,hadhisownstipulations:
1.Donkeymaynotbrayindog’spresence.
2.Donkeymustbeona
2.Donkeymustbeonaleadatalltimeswhenoutsidepastureterritory.
3.Donkeymaynotkickorbite,butmaysniffandstandquietlyindog’spresence.
4.Donkeymaygrazeintheyard,understrictsupervisionbyhumans,andonlywhentiedtoastake.
5.Donkeymaymakeeyecontactwithdog,onalimitedbasis.
6.Donkeymaynoteatdogfood.(Tomyknowledge,thiswasneveranactualissue,butBeaufeltstronglyabouthisfood,so...youknow.)
“Oh,comeon,boy.”IreasonedwithhimatTheLine.“I’llberightwithyouthewholetime.It’sokay.”Atmyreassurance,Beauresumedhiswalktothebarnandsniffedoutaperfectspottositandwatchtheeveningproceedings.Tomwasalreadythere,cleaningoutFlash’sstallandputtingaflakeoffreshhayinthe
feedingrack.“Sowhat’sthedealwith
thesetwo,anyway?”Tomaskedashesetanewbagofwoodshavingsontheground.IpickeduparakethatleanedagainsttheplywoodwallandwatchedasFlashsaunteredintocheckoutouractivity.
“Idon’tknow.Idon’tgetit,”Isaid,settingtherakeasideandrubbingFlash’s
forehead.Clumpsofdirtandblades
ofdriedgrassclungtohiscoatfromhislastdustroll,givinghimarugged,tousledappearance.Asmuchashelikesbeingbrushedandfussedover,Imustsayhewearstheroughoutdoorsmanlookbest.
Withanodofhishead,thedonkeydismissedBeaufromhisvantagepointinthecornerandthenpositionedhimselfdirectlyinfrontofme.TheyellowLab,hisheadlowandeyesavertedaccordingtocode,madeawidecirclepastFlashandtookaseatundertheshadeofamesquitetreejustbeyondthebarn.Hegavearesigned
yawnandloweredhimselftotheground,settlinghisheadonhisfrontlegs.Satisfiedthatthedogwasoutofrange,Flashswishedhistailandinquiredaboutatreat.
Ipulledafewburrsfromhismaneandthensteppedtowardthetackroomtograbasmallcookiefromajarjustinsidethedoor.Animalcrackers—Flash’sfavorite.
Heeagerlypokedhisheadin,blockingmyexitashismouthmovedinanticipation.
“Backup,Flash,”Isaid.“Youneedtobeagentleman.”Iwaiteduntilhesteppedbackward,thenopenedmypalmwiththetreatinside.Itwasgoneinaninstant,Flash’sdefttoplippickingupthecookieinaswiftmovement.Hewas
alreadylookingformorebeforeheevenswallowedit.Iacquiescedwithasecondcookie.Okay,athirdonetoo.Butthat’sall.Imeanit.Really,Ido.Nomore,Flash.
“Ithinktheygotofftoarockystartandneverreallyrecovered,”Isaid,turningtoTom,whowasnowdumpingtheshavingsintothestall.
“BeauisstillbentoutofshapeoverFlashtryingtokickhimthatfirstday.”
“That’salongtimetoholdagrudge,”Tomrepliedthoughtfully.“Ifindithardtobelievetheyaren’tthebestoffriendsbynow.Imean,there’sabsolutelynoreasontheycan’tgetalong.They’rebothfriendly,loyal,sweet,
andlovable.”Hecountedtheirattributesoffwithhisfingers.
“Right,”Ilaughed,“justnottoeachother!”Ilookedatthedog,nearlydryinthelateafternoonheat.“IwonderifBeaufeelsresentfulaboutFlashtakingoverthepasture.Ithinkhewisheshehadthisareabackinhiscontrol.”
“Well,Beaudoestakehisguarddutiesveryseriously.Rememberhowheusedtowalktheperimeteroftheentirepropertyeachday?Heneverincludesthepastureanymore.HeleavesthatpartuptoFlashtotakecareof.MaybehefeelsFlashisn’tdoingagoodenoughjob.”
“You’dthinkhe’dbegratefultothedonkeyfortakingitoffhishands,er...paws...whatever.WithBeau’shipsbotheringhimthesedays,hecanbarelygetallthewayaroundhisownarea,letalonethepasture.It’stakinghimlongerandlongertocompletehisrounds,poorguy.”
Ipulledtherakeacrossthecleanstallmaterialtoevenitout.Thereisn’tabettersmellthanwoodchipsandhay,mingledwithmanure,cedar,andsweetfeed.
“Flashhasn’thelpedthesituation,though,”Tomsaidwryly.Hecrumpledthebagofwoodshavingsandmovedovertothedonkey.“Mostof
thetime,hetreatsBeaulikehebarelyexists.Imean,he’shappytoletthedoghangoutatadistance,andhedoesn’tseemtocarethatwepayattentiontohim.Butyouneverreallyseehimactfriendlywithhim,either.There’sdefinitelyawallthere.”
“It’slikethey’reindifferenttowardeachother,”Iconcluded.“Ithinktheydecidedearlyonthattheywouldcoexistandcooperate,likehowtheytag-teamourwalks,yetnotbecomeemotionallyinvolvedwitheachother.”
Tomcockedaneyebrow.“Emotionallyinvolved?Right,Dr.Phil.Idon’tknow
how‘emotionallyinvolved’adonkeycanbe.”JustthenFlashrubbedhisearsonTom’sarmandgavehimasoulfullook.TomwrappedFlash’sneckinahug,hischeekrestingontheknobofhishead.
“Uh-huh.Well,he’scertainlyemotionallyinvolvedwithyou,”I
observed.“Lookathim.Helovesyou!”
“What,this?Nah,thisisjustusmessingaround.”HegaveFlashaplayfulpushtoproveit.Flashreturnedtheaffectionbyleaningbackintohim,knockingTomoffbalanceandgarneringasnickeroutofme.IcouldhaveswornFlashsmiled.
Fromhisisolationspot,Beauwhinedinjealousy.Helovednothingbetterthanabitofroughhousing,andithurthisfeelingsnottobeinvitedtoplay.
“Whatashame.Beauissuchagreatdog,andFlashisaperfectdonkey.Thinkofallthey’remissing!Doyouthinkthereisanyhopeforfriendshipbetweenthem?”
Beaustruggledtohisfeet,andIcouldseehewasalreadystifffromoverdoingitinthepond.Hisrightbacklegdidn’twanttocooperatewithhisforwardmotion,anditsortofhungsuspendedforthefirstfewstepsbacktothehouse.Althoughhe’dneveradmitit,roughhousingwouldhavebeenoutofthequestionanyway.
Thatnight,BeaumadeitonlyhalfwayupthestepstoGrayson’sroom.Thelandingwouldhavetodofornow,andheloweredhimselfdownwithagroan.Backendcollapsing,frontendfollowingsuit.Blacknoseongiantpaws.Thefaintaromaofeaudepond.
IwishnowthatLastTimeswouldcomewithbigsignsthatsay,“ThisistheLastTime.”Thenyouwouldknowthatyoushouldsavorthem,nomatterhowinconsequentialtheyare.Likethelasttimeyouputsugarinyourteabeforeyousworeoffsweets,orthelasttimeyouusedapushmower,orthelasttimeyoutuckedextra
underwearinyourkid’sbackpack,justincase.Youmighthavestoppedtojustfeelthemoment,breatheitin,andletitgetfixedinyourmemorylikeaPolaroidphotograph.
Thelasttimeyourockedyourbabytosleep.ThelasttimeyousteppedonaLegopieceinthemiddleofthenight.Thelasttimeyou
tastedyourgrandmother’srhubarbpie.Thelasttimeyoukissedyourfathergoodnight.Ifyouhadknownitwasthelasttime,youwouldhaveclosedyoureyesandsaidtoyourself,Imustrememberthis.Imustrememberthesmellofthiskitchenandthiscoffeeandthispie.Imustrememberthisscratchyflannelshirtandthissmellof
OldSpice.Imustrememberthefeelofthisdownyheadonmyshoulder,andthismilkybreathandthesetinyfingerscurledaroundablankie.
You’dsay,Imustrememberthisdog,andhowhesleptonahookedrugnexttoaboy’sbed.
Instead,yourushon.Youthinktherewillbeahundredothertimes,exactlylikethis
one,andyoulookatyourwatchormuttersomeannoyanceoranswerthephoneorbecomedistractedinsomeway.Youdon’tfixitinyourmind,youdon’tstop,andyoudon’tfeelit.Becausewhyshouldyouwhentherewillbeotherchances,andlifeissobusy,andtherearesomanythingstodo?You’llsavoritnexttime,ormaybe
thetimeafterthatone.Youdidn’trealizeatthemomentthatthis—thiswouldbethelasttime.Itwouldn’tbecomingaroundagain.Andyoumissedit.
Imissedit.
That’showIfeltaboutthelasttimeBeaucurledupnexttoGrayson’sbed.Ithadcomeandgonewithoutmeevenrealizingit.Graywasalmostgrown-up,anditseemedlikethelamponhisnightstandwasalwaysonmuchlaterthanmineasheworkedoncalculusequationsandphysicsproblemsforthenextday’shomeworkassignment.
“Whattimedoyouneedtogetupinthemorning?”I’dask,alreadythinkingabouttomorrow’stasksasIkissedhisheadandpickedupsocksfromthefloor.
WhenthelandingonthestairsbecamethenewplaceBeaulikedtosleep,Ifigureditwasbecausehereceivedapatontheheadfromeverypersonwhopassedby.I
didn’treallystoptothinkthathe’dnevermakeittothesecondflooragainandintotheboy’sroomforanothernight.Orthatsoon,he’donlymakeittotherugbythefireplacebecauseclimbingtothelandinghalfwayupthestairswouldbetoomuchworkforthosearthritis-riddenlegs.
WhenthedaycamewhereBeauwentoutsideandsurveyedthepropertyfromtheedgeoftheyardinsteadofwalkingthefencelineandmarkinghiswholeterritory,Ineverreallyimaginedhehadpermanentlyretiredfromhissentinelduties.Lately,hesimplywatchedtheExplorermakeitswayupthedriveway,choosingtogreet
usatthedoorratherthanmeetusontheroadandraceushome.IguessImissedthelastrun,too.
“Hey,OldGuy,”wecalledhim.Beauwashardofhearingandnotabletoseewell,buthistailstillworkedbeautifully—thump,thump,thump.Sensingasimpleturnoftheheadinhisdirection,he’dstartthumpinghistailin
anticipationofattention.Bynow,wewereregularlyhosinghimoffoutside.Thesmellwasexactlywhatyou’dexpectfromanincontinentdog—andthat’swhenalltheLastTimesbegantodawnonus.
“Hey,OldGuy,let’sgogetthemail,”Isaid,lookingforareasontogethimupfromhisbedinthekitchen.
“Itwillbegoodforyoutogetalittleexercise.”Ittookawhiletoconvincehimtoleavehissoftcushion,buthemanagedtomakehiswaytothedoorandoverthethreshold.ImmediatelyIcouldseethatahalf-mileround-tripwalktothemailboxwouldbetoomuch.
“Onsecondthought,let’sjustcheckonFlash’swaterinstead.”Weswitchedcourseandturnedtowardthegate.Flashwasathissaltblock,whichsitsintheshadeofthecedartreesthatlinethefence.Histonguemethodicallyworkedoverthered-coloredbrickofminerals,hiseyeshalf-closedashelicked.Atthesoundofourfeet,he
lookedupandimmediatelymadehiswaytowardus.HemetBeauandmeatthefencepost,wherethedogtuckedhistailandsatsidewaysonhisbestleg.
Thepassageoftimeseemedtobesofteningthedonkey’sattitudeaswellashisrules.AsIpausedtoliftthechain,heloweredhisoversizeheadtoBeau’slevel.
Flash’sbigbrowneyesrestedonthedog’ssofteyes,nowcloudywithage,andtheyheldeachother’sgazeforalongmoment.Thedonkey’snostrilsopenedwideashegentlysniffedatthedog,whobroughthisnoseuptothewhitemuzzlethatreachedacrossthedivide.FourhoovesononesideofTheLine,fourpawsontheother.
Twosetsofearsprickedforward.Twonoses,meetinginthemiddle.
“Well,howaboutthat?”Iwhispered.Wondersnevercease.Ieasedthegateopentostepinside,thennudgedFlashoversoIcouldopenitwideenoughforthedogtogothrough.Beauhesitated,thencrossedTheLineandturnedtothedonkey,tailslowly
wagging.Flashgavehimanamiablenod,earsturning,eyeswelcoming,andtogetherthethreeofusheadedtothewaterbucket—atthehaltingpaceofagimpyLab.Athawhadbegun.
ForasoftenasyouwishyoucouldknowwhensomethingistheLastTime,you’llfindawaytopretendthataRealLastTimeisn’t
one.Yearsearlier,whenI’dsaidgood-byetomygrandfather,whowasinawheelchairandsufferingfromAlzheimer’sdisease,IpretendedthatI’dbebacktothenursinghomerealsoon.Itisn’tthelasttime,Isaidtomyself.I’llbebackandwe’lltalkaboutbaseball,andhe’llshowmesomemoveshelearnedasacatcher,andwe
willplantomakelutefiskandlefse,hisfavoriteNorwegiandelights.
Whenwelockedthedoortoourhouseinthecityforthelasttime,weactedasifweweregoingonvacation.“Didweturnoffthewater?Checktoseethatthelightswereoff?Isthebackgateclosed?Now,let’sgohavesomefunonthebeach,orinthemountains.”
Wetriednottolookintherearviewmirroraswelefttheneighborhoodwhereourkidshadspenttheirearlychildhoodyears.“We’lltakelotsofpictureswhilewe’reaway,”wesaid,“andthenwe’llreturnandpickuprightwhereweleftoff.Everybodybuckledin?”
Wheneachofthekidsdroveofftocollege,downthedrivewayinacloudofdust,wetriedtopretendtheywerejustgoingtothestore,maybetogetsomemilkoraloafofbread.They’llberightback,wetoldourselves,swallowingthelumpsinourthroatsandfightingbacktears.Sillytocryoveratriptothestore.Justbusy
yourselfinthekitchenorsomething,andthey’llbebackinaminute.
Oh,whoarewekidding?Thisisthelasttime,and
thingswillneverbethesame.It’sthetruth.Ifumbleforatissueandblowmynose.Thetearsfall,andmybonesfeellikemush.Myheadhurts.Ihatefacingtherealitythatsomethingpreciousisgone.
Ididn’tthinkIwasthetypetogrieveoveradog.Afterall,Iwastheonewhocomplainedaboutallthedoghairandallthedirtthosepawsbroughtin.Thenoseprintsontheglassdoorannoyedme.Iwassotiredofcleaningupafterhim.Andthentherewerethebigblue
pads,linedwithplasticononeside,absorbentpaperontheother.Theleaky,elderlydogmadethewholehousesmell.ButIlovedthatdog,andIlovedhowhewaswovenintoourfamilyhistory.Ilovedthathewasalwaysthereforus.Noneofuscouldimaginelifewithouthim,andhereIwas,grievingalready.
Whentheinevitablefinallycame,TomdugagravefortheyellowLabandsetwhitestonesallaroundtomarkit.Ididn’twatchhimdigit,andIdidn’twanttoseethefreshmoundofearth.IwantedtopretendBeauwasdownatthepondforanafternoonswim,andthathe’dbehungryfordinnerandthatI’dgrouseabouthimsmelling
likepondwater.Buteventually,Imademywaytotheclearingunderthetreestopaymyrespectsandsaygood-bye.Grayson,Lauren,andMeghaneachdidthesame,ontheirowntimeandintheirownways.Tomcriedfordays,hetookitsohard.Mercy,Ilovethatman.
ThenitwasFlash’sturn.Wehalteredhimupandclippedontheleadinsilence.Hewalkedreadilyalongsideus,eagerforastrollintheworldbeyondhispasture.We’dbeenworkingonimprovinghisskillsonalead,andwewerepleasedwithhisprogress.HalfwaytoBeau’sgrave,hebecameengrossedinthegrassandtookadetour
intotheyard.Perhapshewantedtopretenditwasjustanotherpracticewalk,andnotalastgood-bye.Icouldn’tblamehim;Iknewjusthowhefelt.“Comeon,buddy.Let’skeepgoing,”Tomsaid,givingagentletugontheropebeforetheycontinuedontogether.Ifollowedquietlybehind,wantingtogiveFlashspacetotakeitin.
Flashapproachedthecircleofstoneswithsomereluctance,thenbroughthisheaddowntosmellthenewmound.Hisdeepexhaleblewtheloosesoil,andthetinyleavesthathadfallenthereflutteredupandsettledbackdown.Ididn’texpecthimtosaymuch,andtruetoform,hedidn’t.Heblinkedandturnedhisears,thenshifted
hisweightoffhisbackhoofandrestedit.Fromthelookofhisposture,wewouldbehereawhile.Asitshouldbe.Tomwipedhischeekwithhissleeveashesquatteddownnexttothedonkey’shead.Flashunderstood.
FlashandBeaudidn’thaveawholelotincommonexceptalovefortheirpeople—us.Maybethatwas
enough.Enoughtopushthempasttheirpettydifferencesandmakethemsetasidetheirpride.MaybetheysensedthatLastTimeswereuponthemanddecidedthey’dbeenfeudinglongenough.
IrememberedhowBeauhadaccompaniedFlashonguarddutyinthepasturethatlastsummer.Flashkepthispaceslowfortheonce-
powerfuldogwhoneededtoresteverysooftenbeforeproceedingon.Beaureveledinthemorningbreezesthatblewacrossthefield,histailwaggingandhisnosetakingineveryscent.Flashnibbledonthedrygrassashewaitedforhisfriendtomarkanewspotorfollowabunnytrail.“Takeyourtime,”hesaidwithhisears.Thedonkey
neverrushedhim.Beaurepaidhiskindnessbykeepinghimcompanyatfeedingtimeandbyhumoringtheoccasionalbraysthatoncedrovehimcrazy.Heremainednearbylikeanoldcompanion,graciouslyacceptingFlash’sopinionsandofferingafewofhisown.
Forgiveness—friendship—hadbeenlongincoming,butitarrivedjustintime.Astheyheldoneanother’sgaze,theireyessaiditall:
“I’msorryIkickedatyou.”
“I’msorryIoffendedyouwithmyexuberance.”
“Iwaswrongtokeepyouout.”
“Inevermeanttobotheryou.”
“I’msorryIdidn’tletyoudrinkfrommybucket.”
“I’msorryIdrankoutofitwhenyouweren’tlooking.Andlickedtheedge.”
Itseemslikeit’salwaysthesmallstuffthatkeepsusapart.Thetinyinfractionsthatbecomelargerthanlifeastheyfesterovertime.Lines
getdrawn.Sidesaretaken.Heelsdigin.“Youstayonyourside,andI’llstayonmine.”“Herearemyrules,anddon’tyoudarebreakthem.”“Thisismyterritory,andyou’dbetternotenter.”
HowoftendoIbehaveexactlyasthesetwoanimalshad—allowingmyselftobecomeoffendedoversomelittleevent...gettingangry
oversomethinginsignificant?Justthetipoftheiceberg,Isayinwardly.Don’tgiveaninch.It’stheprincipleofthething.
Andonprinciple,Irefusetoforgive.Iwithholdlove.Judgeanother.Drawthatline.
Whatashame.ThereatBeau’sgrave,I
lookedatFlash,withhislowerlipdroopingand
expressionsorrowful.Hishairwasstartingtothickenwiththeapproachingautumnseason,anditmadehisfacelookfuller,fatter.HewasluckythathisLastTimeswithBeauhadcomewithsigns.He’dbeenabletomakeamendsandenjoytheirremainingtimetogether.Inthatmoment,IlovedFlashmorethaneverfor
personifyingforgivenessandacceptanceandtenderness.AndIlovedhimformourningthepassingofhisfriend.Itwentstraighttomyheart.
Ephesians4:2saysthis:“Alwaysbehumbleandgentle.Bepatientwitheachother,makingallowanceforeachother’sfaultsbecauseofyourlove.”
Weareimperfectcreatures,allofus.Whatashametowasteourtimeontrivialdifferencesandself-maderulesratherthansavoringforgivenessandloveandenjoyingtherichnesstheybring.Weshouldtakesomeone’shand.Weshouldlookourlovedonesintheeyes.Weshouldholdagazeandsaythewords“I’msorry”
and“Iwaswrong”and“Iforgiveyou.”Weshould.Wemust.Andwemustalsosaythewords“Iloveyou”whilewestillcan.Thistimemaybethelastchancewe’lleverhave,butwewon’tknowituntilitisgone.
Don’tmissit.
Makethingsright
Makethingsrightwithothers.Don’tmissyourchancetoforgive,accept,andlove.
MISSINGDONKEY.Myheartpoundedwith
anxietyasItypedthewordsandformattedtheminthebiggest,boldestfontIcouldfitonapage.ThecoffeeI’dgulpeddownearlierthatdaychurnedinmystomachasIaddedmyphonenumberandprintedofftheflyerstostapletotelephonepoles.Ishouldhaveeatenapieceoftoast,
butthethoughtoffoodnowmademefeelsick,giventhesituation.MyhandsshookasIgatheredthepapersfromtheprinterandgrabbedmystapler.
Flashwasgone.Oh,wherewashe?Wehadnoidea.I
couldn’tbelievethishadhappened.Ourdonkeywaslost.Postingsignstonearby
poleswastheonlythingleftIcouldthinkoftohelpuslocateFlashandbringhimhome.
Iwentoverthelasttwenty-fourhours.Weatherreportshadwarnedofovernightstorms,sowe’dspenttheeveningputtinglawnchairsinside,makingsurewindowswereclosed,andsecuringanythingwe
thoughtmightblowaway.ThisiswhenbeingmarriedtoatrueNorthernerwithasiegementalityisexceptionallyadvantageous.
IhadputsomeextrahayinFlash’shayrackandgivenhimagood-nightpat,butIleftthestalldooropensohecouldspendthenightwhereverhewanted.Hestillpreferredthecreekbedinthe
woodstothenoisymetalbarn,especiallyduringstorms.Bynowheknewwheretostaysheltered,andthoughIhadofferedmysensibleadvicetostayinsidethestructure,Ididn’tworryabouthim.
Aspromised,thenightbroughtgustywindsanddrivingrain.TomandIlayinbedandtriedtosleepwhile
welistenedtotheroofmakecrackingnoisesandenduredthesoundsofbranchesscrapingthewindows.“Isn’tafitnightoutformannorbeast!”TomquippedinhisbestYukonCorneliusvoice,andwelaughedatthetime,feelinghappywe’dpreparedforit.
Onlynowitdidn’tseemsofunny.Bymorning’slight,wehadfounddownedbranchesstrewnaroundtheproperty,trashcansoverturned,andworstofall,apasturegateblownoffitshingesintothemuddyground.Uh-oh.
TomandIclompedthroughtheblackclay,whichstucktothebottomsofour
bootsandaddedaninchtoouroverallheights.Weputthegatebackintoplaceandsecureditwithrope.
“HopefullyFlashdidn’tnoticethegatedownanddecidetogetout.Anysignofhoofprints?”Iasked,peeringatthegroundaroundthegate.Toourrelief,wecouldn’tseeasingleone,andwebreathedaprematuresighof
happiness.AtleastFlashisallright,wethought.Justtobeonthesafeside,wedecidedtosplitupandchecktherestofthegatesandfences.Iheadedofftowardthebarntosetoutsomemorninghayandcalledforhimtocomeforbreakfast.
ButnoFlashcame.Iwaited.Calledagain.Waitedsomemore.
Nodonkey.“Areyousurethere
weren’tanyhoofprints?”IqueriedTominthehouse,theninsistedhegobackandinspectonemoretime.
“Nothing,Rachel,”Tomassuredme.“Butthatdoesn’tmeananything.Itwouldbejusttypical,wouldn’tit?Hoofprintsarenoindicationofwhetherhegotoutthrough
thereornot.Thinkabouthowoftenhematerializesonthissideofthefenceinthehockeyarea.Idon’tknowhowhedoesit,butsomehowhedoes.”
Goodpoint.Inadditiontothehockeyareas,Flashwasalsofamousformakingourropebarricadesacrossthebarnopeningsquiteirrelevant.Wheneverwe
neededFlashtomindhisownbusinessandstayoutofourway,wepulledamultilayered,crosshatchedsystemofropesacrosstheexpanseandsecuredthemwithaseriesofeyehooksandcarabiners.Toolowtothegroundtogounder,toohightogoover,toosolidtogothrough.
Thatis,foranyoneandanythingexceptFlash.Healwaysgotthrough.
Butweneveractuallysawhimdoit.Thatwasthemystery.Wecouldbenearby,engrossedinsomebarnactivity,whensuddenlytherewasFlash.Justnonchalantlyscratchingsomeimaginaryitchwithhisteeth.Thenhe’dlookup,alllike,Ohhey,what
areYOUdoinghere?I’mjustitchy...justscratchin’myitch.
Tobehonest,itwasalittlecreepy.
Wasthisdisappearanceanotheroneofhistricks?Wehadafulldayofworkaheadandnotimetogochasingdownanelusivedonkey.Icalledourclientandexplainedthathopefullythis
wouldn’ttakelong;wewouldarrivejustalittlelaterthanplannedtofinishherkitchenbacksplash.Theladywasunderstanding,althoughIdidhavetorepeat,“Mydonkey,yes,that’sright,mydonkeyhasgonemissing.No,notmydoggie.Mydonkey,asinHEE-hawdonkey!”Idon’tknowwhythatwassohardtounderstand.
Backoutside,TomandIcombedtheimmediatearea.Weworkedourwayfromthebackoftheproperty,throughtheyardnearthehouse,andintothewoodsinfront.Theproblemwith—sorry,oneoftheproblemswith—abrownish-graydonkeyisthatheblendsrightintothebrush.
Wehadalreadylearnedfromexperienceinthebackwoodsthatyoucouldbelookingrightathimandnotseehim.Helovedtomakeuscallhimuntilwewereexasperated.Allthewhile,hewassilentlybidinghistimefromfourfeetaway,stillasastatue,andthenhe’dstartleusbymovingatfullspeed.Whoa,now!Nostrilsflared,
withawild-eyedlook,he’dnearlyplowusover,barelyabletocontainhisexcitementforhavingpulledafastone.He’dstopshortatthelastsecond,quiveringindelight.I’vereadthatdonkeys’depthperceptionishamperedbytheirwide-seteyes,andIbelieveit.Healwaysseemedsurprisedtocomeuponussoquickly.
Wecalledandwhistled.(Well,Tomwhistled.I’venevergottenthehangofit.)Weshookcontainersofoats.
Nothing.He’dbetternotberightunderournosesthiswholetime.I’llkillhim.
Wemetattheroadandthensplitupagain.Tomwenteast,andIwentwestalongthenarrowlane.Calling,whistling(again,notme),and
makingenticingnoiseswithourbuckets.Aboutahalfmiledowntheroad,myphonerang.ItwasTom.
“Thisispointless.Hecouldbeanywhere.Ithinkwe’dbetternotifythesheriff’sdepartment,”Tomsaid.“Thatway,ifsomeonereportsthatthey’vefoundhim,they’llknowtocallus.”Iagreeditwasagood
approachbutsecretlyhopedourcallwouldn’tbeansweredbyeitherofthesheriffswhowerearoundthelasttimehebustedout.Ididn’twantFlashtobetheposterchildfor“donkeyproblems.”Youknowhowpeopleliketolabeltroublemakers.
But,asfatewouldhaveit...
“Youthedonkeypeople?”Itwasthedeputyfromthenightoftheromanticrendezvous.Sigh.Iwentaheadandexplainedoursituation.“We’llcallyouifwehearanything,”hesaid.“Don’tworry,weknowwhereyoulive.”
IknewhewaswritingthisonFlash’spermanentrecord,butwhatchoicedidwehave?
Weneededhishelp.BythetimeIhungupthephone,thecoffeeIhaddrunkearlierwasmakingmystomachhurt.Realitystartedtohitme.
WhatifFlashnevercomesback?Whatifweneverfindhim?Whatifsomeonestealshim?Coulditreallybethat,injustafewyears’time,I’dbecomesoattachedtothislong-eared
characterthatthethoughtoflosinghimnowbrokemyheart?Thedepthofmyemotionscaughtmeoffguard.Don’tbesilly,Rachel.He’sjustadonkey.ButIknewhe’dbecomemuchmorethanthat.
AsIgatheredupthestackofflyers,thewordsMISSINGDONKEYshoutedatme.I
momentarilysilencedthemwithprayer.
“God,IknowYouhavemuchbiggerproblemstosolvetoday.Iknowtherearewarsandfaminesandpeoplewhohaveseriousneeds.ButwouldYoupleasehelpusfindFlash?Ilovehim.IbelieveYougavehimtousforareason.Hehasbeen
suchablessing.Asweet,crazyblessing.Pleasebringhimhome.”
Icalledourclientonceagainandcanceledourprojectfortheday,notwantingtobeontheoppositesideofDallasifthephonerang.I’msureshecouldheartheworryinmyvoice,andshegraciouslyrescheduled.
Astheminutestickedby,IvaguelyrememberedanaccountintheBibleaboutsomemissingdonkeys.Maybeitwouldhelptoreadit.Afteralittledigging,Ifounditinthebookof1Samuel.Isettledintotakemymindofftheworry.
NowthedonkeysofKish,Saul’sfather,werelost.1 SAMUEL 9 : 3 , E SV
Isatupfrommycushionedslouchanddidadoubletake.Icouldinstantlyrelate.Somehow,Iknewthiswasgoingtobeagoodnarrative.
Kish,awealthymaninIsrael,instructshisson,Saul,totakeaservantandgofindawanderingbandofdonkeys.Itprobablywasnotahugerequest.Thedonkeyswerelikelyallowedtograzefreely—and,hey,howfarcandonkeysgo,anyway?Pssh.Thisjobjustgoesalongwithbeingasonofarichguy,andmaybeKishthoughtalittle
daytripwouldbeagoodexperienceforhim.SoSaulandtheservantstartlooking.
Theylookhighandlow,upanddownandallaround,buttheycannotfindthedonkeysanywhere.Theykeepwideningtheircircleuntilthey’vetraveledaroundtheentirearea.Eventually,theirsimpletaskhasturnedintoathree-day,grueling
search...andstillnothing.They’veexhaustedallofthecountrysideintheirtribe’slandandprobablyaredebatingwhethertoscourtheneighboringregion.
Thiswassoundingfamiliar.
Saulfinallygivesupandsaystohisservant,“We’dbetterheadhome.I’msuremyfatherisn’tconcerned
aboutthedonkeysanymore.Buthe’sprobablywonderingwhathappenedtous.”Somehow,IthinkSaulmayhaveaddedafewchoiceadjectivesbeforetheworddonkeys,buttheScripturewriterwiselyleavesthemout.
Theservanthasalast-minute,brilliantidea.“Hey!Beforeweleave,let’sgotothenexttownwherearevered
prophetlives.Maybehe’llknowwherethedonkeyshavewanderedto.”
Justastheyarepassingthroughthegatesofthevillagetofindthisprophet,whoshouldbecomingtowardthembuttheverymantheyarelookingfor—Samuel.Theyareliterallyabouttobumpintooneanother.
Itisaholyintersection.Saulisattherightplaceatjusttherighttime.Onthepreviousday,whileSaulandtheservantwerestilloutinthemiddleofnowherelookingforthosedonkeys,GodhadspokentoSamuelandtoldhimtobeonthelookoutforthissameyoung
man.HegaveSamuelanimportanttask—toanointSaulthekingofIsrael.
Whenthetwomeet,SamuelinvitesSaultoeatwithhim,promisingtotellSaulthefollowingmorningwhatheandhisservantwantedtoknow.Andthenheaddssomethingstrange.“Bytheway...aboutthosemissingdonkeys.Someone
foundthemandreturnedthemtoyourfather,soyoudon’tneedtoworryanymore.”
Wait.Ilookedupfromtheopenpagesandsquintedmyeyesatadistantpointinpuzzlement.IthoughttheonethingSaulwantedtoknowwasthewhereaboutsofthedonkeys.Buttheprophetjusttoldhimthey’dbeenfound.
So...thatshouldbeallthereistoit.ItseemstomelikeSauljustlearnedthethinghewantedtoknow—thatthedonkeyshadbeenfound.
ApparentlyGodhadsomethingelseinmind.
Suddenly,itdawnedonme.Saulonlythoughtthisjourneywasaboutdonkeys.Butitwasreallyaboutsomuchmore.
Intheseshortparagraphs,IsawthatGodusedtheproblemofroundingupabandofrenegadedonkeystoputSaulonacollisioncoursewithdestiny.GodmovedSaulfromhisownlittleworld,bymeansofafrustratingmission,intoaplaceofencounter.AplacewhereGodwasgoingtodo
somethingextraordinary.Thisjourney,Saullearned,wasneveraboutthedonkeys.
Isatonthecouch,withmyphoneinonehandandBibleintheother,hopingsomeonewouldcallmewithFlash’swhereabouts.Buttheminutestickedbyinsilence,soIkeptreading.IthoughtmaybeIwasgettingtothebestpartandtriedtofocuson
thewordsonthepageinsteadofthinkingaboutFlash.Outthereallalone.Withnoonetocomforthim.
Iwilledmyhearttostopitsanxiouspace.Breathe,Rachel.
Thestorywrapsupwithafinalscene.Thenextday,SamueltakesSaulasideandtellshimthetruereasonforhisrounduptask.Heanoints
hisheadwithoil,tellshimheisgoingtobeking,andrevealswhatwillhappenonhiswayhome.HesaystoSaul,“Fromthismomenton,you’llbechangedintoadifferentperson.”Aftersomefinalinstructions,Samuelsendshimonhisway.AsSaulturnsandstartstoleave,somethingamazinghappens:Godgiveshimanewheart.
Saul’slifewasforeverchangedinthatmoment.Hisheartwasnew.Hewasdifferent.Inthatinstant,hewentfrombeing“thattallkid”fromanobscurefamilytobeingthekingofanentirenation.Fromwet-behind-the-earsbumpkintopowerfulleader.Hemovedfromdoubttofaith,feartocourage,insecuritytoconfidence.It
wasahistory-makingintersectionofobedienceanddestinythatallstartedwith...adonkeyproblem.
Saul’swillingnesstotakeontheunglamorousjoboffindingsomewaywardanimalsputhimintheperfectspotforSamueltofindhim.IttookSauloutofhiscomfortzoneandputhimintoaplaceofheartchange.
Godwasworkingbehindthescenesthewholetime,orchestratingandcreating“chanceopportunities”thatledSaulstraightintohispurposeandcalling.
Hewastransformed.Lostdonkeys.God’s
purposes.Adatewithdestiny.IwonderedifGod
mightstillbeinthebusinessofusingsuchhumblemeansforagreaterpurpose.
IfonlyIhadadonkey.Becauseminewasstill
missing.IhadfrettedwhenFlash
arrivedinourlivesasalostdonkey,andnowitappearedthathe’dleaveinthesame
manner.Ididn’tliketheawfulironyofit.Notafterallwe’dbeenthroughtogether.
Ithoughtofhisears—thosebeautifulears.Andthewayhisnostrilsflaredwhenhewasexcitedaboutgettingasnack.Hiscrazybray,heardlessoftenthesedays,butendearinginitsearnestness.Ilovedhowhesometimesbuckedforjoywhenwe
calledhiminfromthefieldfordinner,andhowhelikedtofollowmearoundonmyexercisewalksaroundhispasture.
Iwouldmisshimsoterriblyifhenevercameback.MymindwasalreadyplayingahighlightreelofallofFlash’sgoldenmoments,accompaniedbyGreenDay’s“TimeofYourLife.”
Oh,thestoriesIrecalled.LikethetimeFlash
showedupinthebarnwithahaircut.Ahaircut!Somehow,someway,hismanehadbeentrimmedintoachoppymohawk.Onedayhejustwalkeduptothegatewithadifferenthairdo.
Wecouldn’timaginehowithadhappened,ormoredisconcerting,whowould
sneakintoourpasturewithscissorstochopoffhismane.Orwhy.Whywouldsomeonegivemydonkeyspikedbangs?
Wewentoverthepossiblescenariosandsuspects.BridgetteandSteve,asfarasweknew,wereoutoftown.Weeliminatedthemrightoffthebat,eventhoughwecouldseehowthe
importanceofgoodhair,atleastforaSouthernwoman,wouldbeamplemotivation.
Theonlyotheradjoiningpropertywasthebabymama’spasture.Perhapsmonthsofwatchingtheprettylittlemarebecomethesizeofabargehadcausedherownertonurseagrudge,whichculminatedintakingsomescissorstoFlash’smaneinan
actofrage.Likeasubtlebutcrazedmessagetosay,“I’mwatchingyou.”Itseemedlikeastrangewaytogetamessageacross,butyouneverknow.Imean,hecouldjustcallus.We’reinthephonebook.
Maybesomescissors-happykidwanderedby,andseeingahaplessvictimacrossthefence,decided,“Why
not?”PerhapscuttingFlash’smaneintoraggedstrokesfulfilledsomekindofdreamforhim.Itcouldhappen.
OrhadFlashhimselfhiredsomeonetocomeinandgivehimanew“metro”look?Washetiredofhishipsterhairthatsaid,“Ican’trememberthelasttimeIhadahaircut,butsincethislookisnowmainstreamwith
donkeys,it’snotcoolanymore”?Itseemedaplausibleexplanation,givenhisloveforplaidandvinylrecords.
Coulditbealiens?Nah.Surelynot.
ItwaslikeanepisodeofUnsolvedMysteries.
Forweeks,wedraggedeveryguestouttoseeFlash’sridiculoushairdo.We
speculatedandlaughedattheideathatsomeonewouldhavenothingbettertodothantrimFlash’smaneandthensortof“forget”totellus.Buttherehadtobesomeexplanation!
Acoupleofmonthslater,whenBridgetteandStevereturnedfromalongvacationandwewerecatchingup,Imanagedtocasuallyworkin
thequestion,“Say,doyouknowanythingaboutFlash’shaircut?”Theydid.
Bridgette’sson,Heath,hadbeenvisitingjustbeforetheywentoutoftowntogether,andhehadgoneovertopetFlash.Flashhadrolledinaburrpatch,fillinghismanewiththethorny
stickers.So,Heathhelpfullycuttheburrsout...aaandforgottotellus.
TheMysteryofthePhantomBarbersolved.
Itwasonlyslightlydisappointingtolearnitwasn’taliensafterall.
Butthiswasn’ttheonlymysteryFlashhadbeeninvolvedwith.Therewasalso
theMiracleoftheBlueHoof.Thatwasthetimewhen—
Rrrrring!Justthen,mycellphone
rang.Itwasthesheriffwithsomenews.“Yes?Goon!”Somebodyhadfoundarandomdonkeywanderingaroundandhadputhimintheirpastureforsafekeeping.CoulditbeFlash?Itmustbe.Please,letitbeFlash.The
propertywasaboutamileaway,downourtwistyroadthroughthewoods,overasingle-lanebridge,andpastacoupleofneighborhoods.
IimaginedFlashmoseyingalong,searchingforthatnextbladeofdeliciousgrass,notrealizinghewasgettingfartherandfartherfromhome.Icouldpicturehimlookingupand
notrecognizinghissurroundings.Hemustbesoscaredandlonely!MydearFlash.IfeltasmallsparkofhopeasIlacedupmyshoesandgrabbedthetruckkeys.
ThesheriffmetTomandmeatthelocationandgaveusthat“youagain”nodofrecognition.Inoticedhehadaclipboardandwastakingnotes.IsilentlywilledFlash,
ifindeedthiswasFlash,tobehavehimselfinthepresenceofthelaw.Icertainlydidn’twanttoseehismugshothangingonthebulletinboardofthelocalconveniencestore.
Mr.Sheriffescortedusaroundthehouseandbacktothepasturetoseeifthisstraydonkeywasours.MylegsfeltlikejellyasIheldmybreath.
Flash!Itwashim!Hisheadwasoverthe
gate,lookingstraightatuswithhisearsprickedforward,justasifhe’dbeenwaitingtheretheentiretime.Therewerethetwotelltalescars,likechoppylinesacrosshisnose.Therewasthedeepscaracrosshischestandtheoneonhisleftshoulder.The
smallhoovesandlong,wispytail.Thechocolate-coloredcrossonhisshoulders.Thestripedownthecenterofhisbacktohistail.Therubberylipsandeagerbrowneyes.ReliefpouredovermeasItookineveryinchofhim.
“Isthisyouranimal?”theofficerinquired,bushyeyebrowsupandpenpoised.
“Yessir,”werepliedinunison,reachingoverthegateandcaressinghiswhitemuzzle.“Yes,thisisFlash.Thisisourdonkey.”Flashpressedhimselfcloseandcockedhisheadtothesidewitheyesclosed,clearlyhappytoseeus.
“Well,that’ssomedonkeyyou’vegotthere.”Thesheriffsmiled,putting
thepeninhispocket.“I’lllety’alltakeitfromhere.”Heturnedtoleave,thenpausedandlookedback.“Moststraysaroundheredon’thaveanyonewhocaresenoughtocomelookingforthem.I’mgladthisonehasagoodhome.”
“Well,he’spartofourfamily,”Tomreplied.“Iwouldn’thavebelievedwe’d
loveadonkeythismuch,buthe’sprettyspecial.”HepulledoutthehalterandleadropewhileIwrappedmyarmsaroundFlash’sneckandsqueezedhimtightly.Ilovedhisdonkeysmell—amixtureofdust,grass,sweat,andgentleness.
Withatipofhishat,thesheriffleftustothetaskofgettingFlashhome.Maybe
he’dcomewillinglythistime.Ornot.IhavenoideahowSaul
thoughtthatheandonehelpercouldgetawholebandofwanderingdonkeyshomefromthecountryside,becauseTomandIcouldn’tgetonestraydonkeytomovetwentyfeet.Flashduginhisheelsandrefusedtocomealong.Maybehewasjustputtingon
ashowforthehorsesontheproperty,tryingtoimpressthemwithhispowertoimpede.Maybehewasn’tdonewithhisadventure.
Whateverthecase,afteranhourofcoaxing,offeringoats,andwaitingforhimtodecide,wewereonlyastone’sthrowintoourone-milewalk.Thesunwasstartingtoset,andFlashwas
innohurrytocooperate,despitethefacthewasbeingrescuedonceagain.
“Yourdonkeyneedsobedienceschool,”Tomsaid,adjustingtheleadropeinhishands.
“Dulynoted.”IrolledmyeyesathimoverFlash’srumpfrommypositionattherear.Ifwecouldevergethimhome,I’dlookrightintothat.
Obviously,westillneededhelpwithourspecial,much-loveddonkey.
Thehomeownersawourpredicamentandofferedtheuseofhishorsetrailer.Slowly,weurgedFlashintoit,successfulatlast.Wedrovebackhome,andaswepulledintoourpastureandunloadedhim,wefeltanacutesenseofgratitude.Tom
wasright.Flashwasn’t“justadonkey”tousanymore.Hewaspartofthefamily.Hewasours.And,hewasasign.Okay,maybenotasign,butareminderofsomething.AreminderofGod’sprovidenceandcare.
IwatchedFlashpauseandtakeinthesceneofhisfamiliarpasture.Hebreathedtheairandsniffedthe
wildflowers.Henibbledonthetendershootsofgrassthatpokedupfromthemoistground,givingadeepsighashislipsfoundthenextbite.Despitehisreluctancetotravel,Flashwasgladtobebackwherehebelonged.Safewithinourcareonceagain.Ilingerednearhimandraisedasilentprayerofthanks.
Thenithitme.HowmanytimeshadIstoodinthemiddleofthisveryfieldandtalkedtoGod?HowmanytimeshadIaskedforhelp?Lookedupintheskyandprayedforasign?HowmanytimeshadIsearchedScriptureforamessagethatwouldmeetmyneed?AndhowoftenhadGodletmygazefallbackuponthisstray
donkeyandgivenmeapictureofHisgraceandloveandguidance?ThislostdonkeyhadbroughtmetoaplaceofencounterwithHimmoretimesthanIcouldcount.
Asaresult,Iwasdifferent.Myhearthadbeentransformed.Mylifewaschanged.
IclosedmyeyesforamomentandthoughtaboutSaulandhowaproblemwithdonkeyshadbroughthimtohisdestiny.AndIwonderedaboutallthe“donkeyproblems”Ifacedinlife.ThetimesIthought,IfIcanjustfigureoutwhatI’mgoodat,or,IfIcouldjustchangethisrelationship,or,IfIcouldmakeawholegobofmoney.
IrealizedhowoftenImadethemistakeofthinkingthatfixingthingswaswhatthejourneywasallabout.IfIcanonly“findthesedonkeys,”solvetheissue,andgetpastthisproblem,everythingwillworkout.I’llgobacktomynormallifeinmylittletowninobscurityandlivehappilyeverafter.
Maybewealldothis.Wewanderalloverthefigurativecountrysidetryingtosolveourdonkeyproblems.Ourfinancialsetbacks.Ourhurtingmarriages.Ourparentingissues.Oursoul-killingjobs.Rockyrelationships.Illhealth.Insecurities.Fears.Doubts.Webegintothinkwe’reonahopelessmissionandthereis
noendinsight.Wefeellikewehavefailed.Wethinkweareinsignificant.WethinkGoddoesnotseeornoticeus.Webecomefrustratedwiththetask.
Butwhatwedon’trealizeisthat,evenwhilewe’reoutthereinthemiddleofNowherevillelikeSaulwas,Godhasalreadybeenat
work.Infact,Nowherevilleisjustwherewearesupposedtobe.
Istartedtoseethatallofourdonkeyproblems,ourhardsituations,aretheverythingsGodusestogetustoaplaceofencounter.Aplacewhereourheartsaremadenew.LikeSaul,we’vecometotheendofeverythingwecanthinkoftodo,andwe’ve
givenup.Andthenwegiveitonelastchance,onemoreshot,andboom.That’sthemomentGodshowsup.Whenwe’reoutofourcomfortzones,haveusedupallofourresources,andareattheendofallhope.
That’sexactlytheplacewhereHemeetsus.That’sjustwhereHe’dmetmesomanytimesbefore.AndI
suddenlyknewthatitwasthroughmycircumstancesthatGodhadchangedme.I’dgonefromastarry-eyeddreamertoawiser,seasonedwomanwhowasn’tafraidofhardworkandovercomingobstacles.IwentfromfearoffailingtoconfidenceinHisgrace.FromonewhosimplyreadaboutGod’sstrengthinweaknesstoonewho
experienceditfirsthand.Fromsomeonewhodespisedthestrugglestoonewhoembracedthelessonsfoundinthem.AllthesituationsItriedtofixweresimplyHismeanstogetmetowhereHewantedmetobe.
IsteppedclosetoFlashandleanedmyweightonhisshoulders,myarmscrossed
andchinrestingonmyhands.“Hey,DonkeyBoy.MyFlashy.”
Hebroughthisheadupandturnedtoacknowledgeme,hisearsswingingaroundatthesoundofmywhisper.ThesinkingsunmadehiseyeslookwarmandunderstandingasIstrokedhissmoothbrowncoatandtracedthedarkcrossonhisback
withmyfinger.Hismaneruffledinthebreeze,thecoarsemulticoloredhairticklingmyarmasIcircledhisneckonemoretime.Flashblewsoftlythroughhislipsinacontentedppphhhfff.
Thisjourneyisneveraboutlostdonkeys.Instead,it’salwaysaboutheartchange.It’sabout
transformation.It’saboutGodshowingupandmakingusnew.
Lostdonkeys.God’spurposes.Adatewithdestiny.
Yourjourneyisn’taboutfixingdonkeyproblems.It’sabouttransformation.
WehadnearlylostFlash,thedonkeywhohadenteredourlivesasastraydiversioninourbusy,overwhelmedworld.
Whew.I’msogladhe’sbackhome!
Feelinggratitudeallthewaydowntomytoes,Imadesurethepasturegatewasclosedandthechainwassecured.Flashhadbeen
followingmyeverymovesincewereturnedandnowpokedhisnoseoverthetoprungofthegateforapartingkiss.Ilaughedatthewayhisbottomlipjuttedtothesideasherestedhischinonthegateandgavemethatirresistibledonkeygaze.Youknow,theonethatimplores
youforjustabitmoreattention—andapossiblelasthandout.
“Sillyboy.”Ileanedforwardandpressedmylipstohissoftmuzzleandpattedthesweetspotonhisnose.“Goon,now.”Heswunghisheadupandpaused,turninghisearstowardmejustincaseI’dchangemymind
aboutleaving.Thenheswishedhistailandmoseyedtowardthewoods.
Backinsidethehouse,Imadeabeelineformyoffice.Igrabbedthestackof“MissingDonkey”flyersI’dmade,crumpledthem,andthrewthewaddedpapersaway.Justforgoodmeasure,Iknottedthetrashbaganddroveittotheendofthe
driveway,eventhoughitwasawholedaybeforethegarbagecollection.IwantedthosesignsoutofthehousesoIwouldn’tberemindedofhowclosewehadcometolosingourfour-leggedfamilymember.
SteppingoutoftheExplorer,Itossedthebagtotheedgeoftheroadandceremoniouslywipedmy
handsofit.Done!ButasIturnedtogetbackintothetruck,Ihadsecondthoughts.Iuntiedthebagandpulledoutarumpledpage,smoothingitonmyleg.Perhapsitwouldbegoodtokeeponeasareminderafterall.IheldtheflyerinmyhandasIsatbehindthesteeringwheel,parkedin
nearlythesamespotasthatfirstnightwhenFlashhadshownup.
Whatajourneyithadbeensofar!
Duskhadfallen,andasIlookedthroughthewindshieldatthemuddydriveway,mymindrelivedthatcold,bumpydrivehomefromajobthatwouldn’tpayourbills.Thatnight,allIhad
wantedwasawarmshowerandanendtothestruggleswewerefacing.MyheartwastooheavyandIwastootiredtopray,butsomehow,Godhadheardme.
There,inourheadlights,wasamangydonkey.
Helookedatus,andwepeeredbackathim,thedustswirlingabouthisfeetlike
smokeinastageshow.Grassprotrudedfromhislips.Heswallowedhard.
Thedonkeydidnotlooklikeamiracle.Helookedlikealotoftrouble.
Itwouldhavebeentheeasiestthingintheworldtosimplyignorehim,driveuptothehouse,getreadyforbed,andthenpullthecoversoverourheads.TomandI
weretiredanddiscouraged.Weweren’tspeakingtoeachother.Wejustwantedtoputthedaybehindusandhadeveryreasontokeepgoingpasthim.Andhadwedrivenonby,Imightneverhavegivenmuchthoughtaboutachanceencounterwithalowlybeastintheroad.“Huh,adonkey.Thatwasweird.”
Hewouldhavebeenthefootnoteonataleofahorridday.
ButTom’sseatbeltwasalreadyunbuckled,andheopenedthedoor.Andwithonetiredsighandadecisiontogetout,thegamechanged.
Wethoughtwewererescuingadonkeythatnight.
Buttherealityis,Godhadsentalostdonkeytohelprescueus.
Weweretheonesneedinghelp.Weweretheoneswhoneededtoknowwewerenotalone.ThatGodhadnotforgottenus.ThatHehadapurposeforus.ThatwematteredtoHim.
WeneededtoknowGodwaswithus,andthatwecouldstillrelyonHim.WeneededtoknowHecouldreachdownandmakesomethinggoodhappen,andthatHecouldstillspeaktoordinarypeoplelikeus.
SoHeputadonkeyinthedriveway.
Andwecouldhavedrivenrightby.
Butwewouldhavemissedtheverythingweneededmost.
Wecouldnothaveimaginedtheanswertoourprayerswouldcomeinsuchanunexpected,inconceivablepackage.Isn’titGod’sstyletoprovidesomethingwondrous,somethingnewsworthy,somethingwithalittleglamourtoastoundus?
That’swhatIwouldhaveenvisioned.Apackagewithfuzzyears,anenormoushead,bigteeth,andaloudbray?Hardly.Butthen,Godhasasenseofhumor.PerhapsHeknewthatitwouldtakeareluctant,lostdonkeytoillustrateHismessagetoreluctant,lostpeoplelikeus.
HegaveusFlash.ThroughFlash’sexample,welearnedhowtoliveabundantlyinourcircumstances,withgratitudeandjoy.Heremindedustokeepbreakingdownfencestofindourpassion,andwelearnedtorunwithhorsesandfindsatisfactionthroughservingotherswithlove.Hetaughtustowearourdonkey
heartsonoursleevesandopenuptotheworldaroundus.Heremindedustonotbeafraidofchange...toletgoofthepastandembracepossibilities.Hisdonkeytrailspointedoutthatourploddingwasreallygoingsomewhereafterall.Heshowedushowtomakethemostofthedayswearegiven.Suchpricelesslessons.
Flash,inhisowninimitableway,taughtushowGodinteractswithHispeople.IfoundHeusestheeverydaypartsofourlivestoilluminatespiritualtruthsandtodrawusclosetoHim.IthinkmaybeI’dforgottenthat.God’svoiceisechoedinthestoplights,thegrocerystoreruns,thewalksinthepark,andthechatteraround
thedinnertable.Hecallstousaswedothelaundryandthedishes,balancecheckbooks,andreadbedtimestories.
DoyouhearHim?Heisinchanceencounterswithunlikelycharacters.Hispresenceisnearerthanwecanimagine.Hishandis
neverfar,andHisSpirithoversoverusaswegoaboutourdailylives.
Sometimes,wejustneedtopayattention.
Listen.Observe.Bestill.Unbuckleourseatbelts
andgetoutofthecarwhenwe’dratherdriveonpast.
Thisiswhatastraydonkeytaughtus.
Butmostimportant,FlashremindedusofGod’sinfinite,unfathomablelove.HeremindedusthatHetakesworthless,unworthy,unwillingpeopleandsetsHisheartonthem.Onus.Onyouandme.Hislovemakesusvaluable,worthy,andbeautiful.Hehealsourscars,Heprovidesforourneeds,andHegivesusmorethanwe
couldaskfor.WeareHis.WebelongtoHim.Hecallsusbyname,and
Hebringsussafelyhome.
LessonsfromFlash
1Rememberyourname.
Knowwhoseyouare.
2Knowwheretofindrefuge.
TruesanctuaryisfoundinGodalone.
3Runwithhorses.Thepursuitofexcellenceconquersfear.
4Findyourpassion.Passionleadstopurpose.
5Beatrailblazer.Persistencemakespathwaysforgracetofollow.
6Wearyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve.
Awell-livedlifeisanauthenticlife.
7Standwherefruitisfalling.
Thesecretofabundanceisinchoosinggratitude.
8Beaserviceanimal.
Youaremadetoservein
Youaremadetoserveinlove.
9Embracechange.Don’tletfearoftheunknownkeepyoufrommovingforward.
10Makethingsrightwithothers.
Don’tmissyourchancetoforgive,accept,andlove.
11Yourjourneyisn’taboutfixingdonkeyproblems.
It’sabouttransformation.
Q&AwithRachelAnneRidge
WhatmadeyoudecidetowriteaboutFlash?
Flashissuchacharming,endearingcharacter,howcouldInotwriteabouthim?Seriously,IbegantonoticethatIhadtheselittlescribblednotesandobservationsabouthiminmyjournals...thingsthatbegantodevelopintothreadsofunderstanding.Istartedtoseehimasmyownpersonalobjectlesson!IguessI’mavisuallearner,
andthisishowGodmakesthingsconnectwithme.WhenIwroteaboutFlashonmyblogandsawhowheresonatedwithmyreaders,itseemedcleartomethatheshouldbethecatalystforthebook.
Youmentioninthebookthatpartofyourgrowing-upyearswerespentasa
missionarykidinMexico.Whatwasyourchildhoodlike?Howdidyourearlyexperiencesshapeyoutobereadyforanythinglifethrowsyourway—whetherit’sstartingyourownbusinessordiscoveringadonkeyinyourdriveway?
Growingupasamissionarykidreallydidpreparemeforbeingopentonewexperiences.IlovedthecolorfulcultureIwasexposedto—thepeopleandthelanguage(andthedonkeys)gavemeanappreciationforasimplerlifestylethanwetypicallyexperienceintheUnitedStates.IthinkI’vealways
longedtorecreatethatwithmyownfamily.Livinginaforeigncountry,myparentsmodeledaviewoflookingatinterruptionsaspossibilitiesandseeinginconveniencesasopportunitiesforGodtowork,andIamdeeplygratefulfortheirexample.IbelieveIcouldhaveeasilymissedFlash’slessonswithoutthatmind-setof
expectation.
Donkeysareoftenlabeled“stubborn”and“ornery.”YetFlashseemstoimmediatelywintheheartof(almost)everyonehemeets.Whydoyouthinkwerespondsostronglytohim?Doyouthinkalldonkeyshavepeoplemagnetism?
Idothinkthatdonkeysareparticularlyendearingtopeople!Firstofall,there’sthecutenessfactor.Thoseears!Thosenoses!Butalso,Ithinkthereisahumilityandgentlenesstheyexudethatdrawspeoplein.Theyareextremelysocialandloyal,twoqualitiesthatmakeforgoodrelationshipsofanykind.Flashhasahuge
personalitythatpeoplerespondto,andhisadventuresmakeeveryonesay,“Awww.”
The“stubborn”stereotypeisonethatwe“donkeypeople”areverysensitiveto,andwetrytoeducateothersaboutit.Donkeysaren’tactuallystubborn;theyarecautiousbynatureandwillhesitate(orrefuse)todo
anythingtheyareunsureof.Ratherthanboltingfromafrighteningsituationlikeahorsemight,theywillstopandthinkaboutit.Theymusttrusttheirownerorhandlercompletelyinordertodowhatisbeingaskedofthem.Toooften,ahandlerbecomesfrustratedandwillmistreata
donkey,whichonlycreatesdistrustandexacerbatesthe“stubborn”myth.
Youshareinthebookaboutanartteacherwhodiscouragedyouatayoungage,andasaresultittookyouyearstoownyourartisticgifts.Howdidthatexperiencechangeyou?Ifyouranintothatteacher
todayandgotupenoughnervetosayanything,whatwoulditbe?Didyourexperienceaffectthewayyouguidedyourownchildrentodiscovertheirinterests?
Whatasadmomentthatwas!Lookingbacknow,Icanonlyimaginethattheteachermayhavebeenpreoccupiedor
mayhavesimplybeencaughtinabadmoment,whichhadanunintendednegativeimpactonmeasaninsecureseventhgrader.Idon’tharboranyillwilltowardhimnow,andsayinganythingtohimwouldnotchangethepast.
Thatexperiencehasmademeveryawareofhowpowerfulourwordscanbe,andI’vetriedtobeapositive
encouragerformyownkidsasthey’vediscoveredtheirinterests.Ialwayshadartsupplies,tools,paper,andbitsandpiecesofthingsonhandsotheycouldinventandcreatewhenevertheywanted.Today,Laurenisagraphicdesigner,Meghanisamusicteacher,andGraysonisonthepathtobecomingan
aerospaceengineer—sothey’vedefinitelyfoundtheirniches!
SinceFlashjoinedyourfamily,you’vebecomeanadvocatefordonkeyrescueandcareworldwide.Whathaveyoulearnedabouttheimportanceandsocialvalueofdonkeys,specificallyin
developingcountries?Howcanothersgetinvolvedtohelp?
I’msogladyouasked!HavingFlashhasopenedmyeyestothegreatimpactdonkeysstillhaveontheworld,andalsotheimmenseneedforrescueandwelfare.WeliveinsuchamodernsocietyhereintheUnited
Statesthatwerarelyevenseeadonkeyasapet,letaloneasaworkinganimal.Yettherearemorethanfiftymilliondonkeysintheworld,mostofwhomdothehardworkthatsustainsfamiliesandwholecommunities.Often,theseanimalsareoverworkedandsufferpoorhealth,which
decreasestheirlifespansandtheirabilitytohelpthepeoplewhoneedthem.
Oneorganizationwhosemissionistoaidthewelfareofdonkeys,horses,andmulesisTHEBROOKEintheUnitedKingdom(thebrooke.org).Theyhelpsomeofthepoorestcommunitiesinthe
worldbyprovidingprogramsandtreatmentfortheirworkingequines.
THEDONKEYSANCTUARYintheUnitedKingdom(www.thedonkeysanctuary.org.ukiswellknownforitsworkwithdonkeys.Theyfosterandadoptdonkeysinneed
andparticipateinanimalwelfareworkaroundtheworld.
SAMARITAN’SPURSE(samaritanspurse.org)providesdonkeys(andotherlivestock)toruralfamilieswhoneedthem,particularlyinLatinAmerica,Africa,andAsia.Donkeyscanpullplowsandwagons,haulproducts,carrywater,andprovide
transportation.Theymakeahugedifferenceinpeople’seconomiclivesbyallowingthemtoearnalivingandcreateafutureforthemselves.Ilovethat.
PEACEFULVALLEYDONKEYRESCUEinSanAngelo,Texas(donkeyrescue.org),isoneexampleofadonkeyrescueorganizationandhasfacilities
aroundtheUnitedStatesforrescuing,rehabilitating,andfindingnewhomesfordonkeys.I’vepersonallyvisitedtheirfacilityandevenadoptedanewdonkeyfriendforFlashfromthem!Theydoincredibleworkforthe“forgotten”donkeysofAmerica.
Youcanhelpanyoftheseorganizationswithmonetarydonations,andsomearelookingforhands-onvolunteersorpeoplewhowanttofosteroradoptdonkeys.Theymakeexcellentpetsandcompanions,soyoushouldthinkaboutgettingone!
Inthisbook,yousharewithgreatcandorandvulnerabilityaboutovercomingyourfearoftakingrisksonnewopportunities.WhatareyoudoingnowthatyouneverwouldhavedreamedofdoingbeforeFlashcameintoyourlife?
Well,writingabookaboutadonkey,foronething!Flashhastaughtmethatmy“sixty-twochromosomes”areenoughtoallowmeto“runwithhorses”!Ithinkofthatphraseoften,especiallyasI’mpresentedwithprojectsandopportunitiesthatscareme,suchasspeakingtogroupsandwritinga
children’sbook,asI’mdoingnow.Facingfearishard,butit’sworthit.
ThestoryofFlashspanssomedifficultandtumultuoustimesforyourfamily.Isthereaspecificquote,thought,orScriptureversethatsustainedyouthroughout?
Nomatterwhathappens,itseemsIalwayscomebacktoPsalm90:17,whichhasbecomemylifeverse:
LetthebeautyoftheLORDourGodbeuponus,
Andestablishtheworkofourhandsforus;
Yes,establishtheworkofourhands.
PSALM 9 0 : 1 7 , NK JV
IcreatedahugeprintofthisScriptureforourlivingroomsowecouldseeiteveryday.Itwas(andis)myprayerforourdays—thatwewouldexperienceGod’sbeautyandfavor,andthatHewouldtaketheworkofourhandsandmakesomethinggoodhappen.Sometimesjust
breathingthisverseasaprayerwasallIcoulddointhemidstofmystruggles,andIbelieveGodhasreallybeenfaithfultoanswerit.
Atitscore,whatwouldyousaythestoryofFlashisabout?
IbelievethestoryofFlash,myraggedystraydonkey,andofourfamilywhotookhimin,isastoryaboutGodshowingupineveryone’slivesinunexpectedways.It’saboutbeingawarethatwisdomtruly“shoutsinthestreets”asProverbs1:20describes,andthatwhatweneedtodoislearntolisten.
IthinkmostofussimplymissthefactthatHeisreachingouttous,becausewe’relookingforgreatbeamsoflightandangelicchoirstoannouncesomethinggrandiose.Weforgettolookattheeverydayinterruptions,theordinaryoccurrences,andthetasksthatfillourlivesasopportunitiestoexperienceGod’sloveandcare.Ihope
thatallwhoreadthebookwilllookattheirlivesinafreshwayandseethatthe“donkeys”thatshowupareactuallyextraordinarygiftsindisguise.
What’snewwithFlashandyourfamilysinceyoucompletedthebook?
I’msoexcitedtosaythatFlashhasanewbuddy—Henderson(akaHenry).Heisanadorableminidonkeythatweadoptedlastyear.Hisnamecomesfromtheoriginallog-inattherescuefacility,wherehewasidentifiedas“Henderson#10,”thetenthdonkeyinaroundupinHendersonCounty,Texas.Wesimplyhadtokeepthe
name!HeandFlashdoeverythingtogether,vyingforattention(andtreats)andgenerallyjustenjoyingeachother’scompany.It’ssofuntoseethemtogether!
Ourdaughters,LaurenandMeghan,haveeachhadababygirl,andourson,Grayson,isfinishinguphisstudiesatTexasA&M.Lifehaschangedalotinthepast
yearortwo,andIthinkI’veadjustedtoitnow.I’mwritingachildren’sbookandcreatingartinmystudio—twothingsIlovetodo.I’malsobusyonPinterestpinningphotosofthevintagecamperI’mdreamingofhavingoneday!
P.S.—Flashstartedobedienceschool(otherwiseknownasdonkey-ownertraining).Heislearningtowalkonalead,followcommands,andbeloadedintoatrailer.Heisa(mostly)willingandhappystudent.I’llkeepyoupostedonhisprogress.Thismaytakeawhile.
FollowFlashonFlashTheDonkey.com,Facebook.com/FlashTheDonkeyandTwitter@FlashTheDonkey.
Acknowledgments
Inbringingthisbooktolife,I’mdeeplyindebtedtomanypeoplewhohavemadeitpossible...
PriscillaShirer,mydear,preciousfriend.ThankyouforhiringmetopaintJackson’snurserysolongago.Itwasaphonecallthatchangedmylife.Youcontinuallyblessmewithyourencouragement,yourinsights,andyourspur-of-the-momentmovieinvitations.Youaretheworld’sbestcheerleader.And
Bibleteacher.BridgetteHawks,my
friendandSouthernbelle.Thankyouforlettingmesharethetenderpartsofourstory,andforbeingalatebloomerwithme.I’mgratefulyouputthatadinthepaperforthecharmingfarmhouse.Whenweansweredit,wegotwaymore
thanahouse—wegotanamazingfriendshipwithyouandSteve.Whatagift.
RuthSamsel,myincredibleagent.YourenergyandexcitementforFlashmadethiswholeprojectfun.Iknewfromyourfirsttextthatwewouldmakeagreatteam.Youseemtoknowjustwhentopushme,andjustwhentosendalittlecarepackageto
keepmyspiritsup.It’sanhonortobepartofWilliamK.JensenLiteraryAgency.
SarahAtkinson,myacquisitionseditoratTyndaleMomentum,whofellhardforFlashfromthefirstmomentsheheardofhim.Yourcommitmenttoseeingthisstorybecomearealbookmademebelieveinit.Thank
youtothetalentedteamatTyndaleHousePublishersforallofyourhardwork:JanLongHarris,SharonLeavitt,JillianVandeWege,NancyClausen,CassidyGage,MaggieRowe,andStephenVosloo.Itreallytickledmetothinkaboutyousittingaroundtogetherattheoffice,talkingaboutmydonkey.Oh,howIwishFlashcouldhaveknown
hewasbeingdiscussedinconferencerooms—byimportantpeople!Thenagain,he’dneverletmeforgetit.
BonneSteffen,myeditorwhomademymanuscriptsparkle.SorryforallthesentencesthatstartedwithAndandBut.Butsomehowyouhelpedmemakechangesthatkeptmyvoice,only
better.Andyouletmekeepafewofmy“choice”words.Youareamaster.
MelodyJohnson,akaTheDonkeyWhisperer.ThankyouforyourexpertiseandhelpwithFlashalongtheway.
I’mgratefulformyparents,TomandAnneRasmussen,whotaughtmetoseepastthe“interruptions”in
lifetofindwhatGodmightbedoingbehindthescenes.Yourfaithandexamplestillinspiremeeverysingleday.Thankyouforyourprayersandlove.
LaurenandRobertPenn,MeghanandNathanMiller,andGraysonRidge:Youguysalwaysmakemefeelontopoftheworldwithyourexcitementforthisbook,and
formydreams.I’mveryblessed,andmorethanalittlelucky,tobeyourmom.
Tommy:Thankyouforstoppingtohelpastraydonkeyonenight.It’sjustsotypicalofyou,andonemorereasonIloveyoumorethanwordscansay.
Lastly,Flash.Thanksforshowingupwhenyoudid.Youwerejustwhatwe
needed.
DiscussionQuestions
ScantheQRcodewithyourphoneorvisitthelinkbelowforaspecialmessagetobookgroupsfromRacheland
http://tyndal.es/flashintro
Flash!
1. Haveyouhada“donkeyinthedriveway”moment—atimewhensomethingunexpecteddisruptedyourlifeand
routine?Whatwasit,andhowdidyourespond?
2. ThecountysheriffdismissesFlashas“worthless.”Doyouagreethatalivingcreaturecanbeworthless?Whyorwhynot?Considersomeexamplesfromhistory,theBible,oryourown
experiencesinwhichaperson(orcreature)unvaluedbysocietycametomakeanimpactontheworld.Whatcharacteristics(ifany)dotheyshare?
3. Flash’s“earswereakeypartofhiscommunication—asilentformofexpressionthatdelightedus.”What
couldtheRidgestellaboutFlash’smoodbywatchinghisears?Thinkofafriendorfamilymembertowhomyou’reclose.Whatnonverbalcuesmightyounoticethatshowwhatthatpersonisfeeling—thingsacasualacquaintancemightmiss?
4. Inchapter2,Rachelcontraststhenamesshecallsherself(e.g.,inadequate,afraid,failure)withthenamesGodgivesher(e.g.,precious,found,enough).Whatwouldyourownnamesbe?WritetheGod-givennamesonacardandplaceitwhereyoucan
seeiteveryday.
5. Thinkofatimewhenyou,likeFlashshiveringoutsidehisbarnorRachelsufferingatragicloss,haveneededshelter.Whatwerethecircumstances?Wherewasyourrefuge—theplaceorpeoplewhobroughtyouinoutofthecold?Whatdidyou
learnaboutyourself,God,andyourrelationshipsfromthatdifficulttime?
6. WhatchangedforFlashafterhehadtheopportunitytorunwithhorses?Whatlongingsornewadventuresdoyouwanttopursueinyourownlife?Doessomethingneedto
changeinyourcircumstancestomakethesedreamsareality—andcanyoubeginrunningaftertheminsomewaytoday?
7. OneofRachel’schildhoodteachersdiscouragedherinawaythatmadeabigimpactonherlifeandfuture.Thinkbacktoyourown
childhood:Didyouhaveateacherorrolemodelwhoeitheraffirmedordismissedyourdreams?Iftheformer,howdidthatencouragementshapeyourlife?Ifthelatter,whatchangedwhenyouweretoldyoucouldn’tdoit?InwhatwaysdoesRachel’sown
storyshowthatit’snevertoolatetotryagain?
8. WhatcharacteristicsdoRachelandTomshowintheirendeavors—whetherit’slearningtheropesatanewbusiness,facinglife’schallenges,oradoptingastraydonkey?Whereinthe
processdotheymoststruggle,andwheredoyouseethemthrive?
9. ConsiderthemanydifferentfriendshipsRacheldescribesinthebook.Whichoneresonateswithyoumostandwhy?Ifyouweretowriteyourlifestory,whichofyourownfriendshipswouldbe
mostsignificanttoinclude?Howhaveyoulearnedfromeachotherandgrowntogether?
10. Thinkofyourownpet,eitheroneyouhavenoworabelovedonefromyourpast.Ifheorshehada“To-Do”listlikeFlash’s,whatwouldbeincludedonit?Howhasthisanimal,quirksand
all,enrichedyourlife—eitherthroughjoyorsorrow?
11. “It’ssafetosaythatFlashwelcomeschange,”Rachelsays,“justaslongasnothingisdifferentoralteredinanyway.”Howdoeshisattitudetowardchangecontrastwiththatofothersinthebook—
RachelandTom,Bridgette,evenBeau?Whoareyoupersonallymostlikeandwhy?
12. Whataresomeuniquethingsthatanimalscanteachusaboutlove?
AbouttheAuthor
WhiletolepaintingChristmasgiftsoneyear,RACHELANNERIDGEdiscoveredaloveforartandinadvertentlylaunchedanewcareer.In1999,shetookher
paintbrushesandbegancreatingmuralsandfauxfinishesintheboomingDallas–FortWortharea.Whenthesmallbusinessstartedgrowing,herhusband,Tom,joinedher.Together,theyhaveexpandedintolarge-scalecorporateart,graphicdesign,wayfinding,andcustomartwork.Alongtheway,theyhaveraised
threechildren;journeyedthroughloss,failures,andsuccesses;andadoptedastraydonkeywhoshowedupontheirdoorstepandneverleft.
Rachelbeganbloggingasameansofsharingdailyencouragementwithotherwomen.Writingabouthereffortstocreatea“softplacetoland”forherbusyfamily
madeanaturalconnectionwithanonlinecommunityofreaderswholovehergentlewisdomandhumor.Since2006,HomeSanctuary.comhasbeenherbloghome,andyoucanalsokeepupwithheratRachelAnneRidge.com.
RachelwroteforandmanagedPriscillaShirer’sblog,GoingBeyond.com,fortwoyearsandcontributesto
otherblogsonthetopicsofparenting,organization,faith,andcreativity.Sheisanengagingspeakerwholovestosharefunny,oftenpoignantstoriesthattouchtheheartandrevealGod’sloveinunexpectedways.
RachellivesinTexaswithherhusband,Tom,andnow,twodonkeys.