Stories

"...so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it." Isaiah 55:11

Stories shape our world. From infancy, we are told stories: Mother Goose nursery rhymes, Grimm’s fairy tales, tall tales and legends. We hear stories of our parents, our grandparents and our ancestors. We hear stories in school and in church. Stories convey messages, meanings and morality. We gather around the dinner table and share the stories of our day. Stories personalize experience. Stories express humanity. They knit together community in a significant and humanistic way… And so, I will share a story with you. It is a story of stories.

“Horses are only afraid of two things… Things that move and things that don’t.” I heard this comment twice on my recent trip to a horse ranch. It is a ranch that supports at-risk youth through horse therapy. I was standing in the lush green pasture of Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch, dodging industrial-strength sprinklers in one-hundred-nine-degree heat. There were no trees to offer the reprieve of shade and I was surrounded by a dozen-or-so majestic beasts as well as twenty-five human volunteers.

Most of the teenagers on this service-mission trip had never touched a horse before. Additionally, most of them had spent the last year sequestered in their homes, staring at video screens for entertainment, education, connection and everything in between. Most of these teenagers were quiet and reserved as we approached the herd. Our guide stopped us at the paddock gate and first uttered the words, “Horses are only afraid of two things… Things that move and things that don’t.”

She then went on to explain that since a horse has eyes on opposite sides of its head, it is often afraid of the same thing twice. If it passes an unfamiliar rock on the trail, it may become spooked, only to be spooked by the same rock on the return trip. The danger now being viewed with the opposite eye: new fear, same rock.

We entered the gate and our guide shared the story of Little Bear, a Clydesdale-cross that was attacked as a colt by a bear. He survived to become the alpha of the herd. We heard about Remnant and his rescue from Hurricane Katrina. We heard about Alula and Hero and Cassidy and Phoenix. Redemption story after redemption story. We listened to the stories among the herd, all the while these mammoth animals, walked among our group. Slowly, a shift happened with our young missionaries. Slowly, hands began to reach out toward shaggy forelocks. Fingers sought out the fringe of a mane. Arms reached around necks as large as tree trunks. Foreheads touched noses. Necks were scratched, backs patted. A small clump of humanity began to disperse into the pasture, seeking out the equine equivalent of strength, beauty and survival.

Prior to our group hearing the testimony of the herd at Crystal Peaks, the horses were perceived as just big, scary animals. But there is power in a story. After the stories were told, these enormous creatures became approachable. The stories fleshed out the character each animal and their personality. These “angels in horse hair” gracefully and graciously accepted the attention of our youth without fanfare or even the weight of acknowledgement.

Ten minutes into our visit with the herd, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Kids that were apprehensive and afraid, had become bold and excited. They laughed, talked and joked around the horses with confidence. They asked questions and engaged in conversation. It was as if someone had woken them from a long hibernation... For the next three days on the ranch, these kids thrived!

There is something about engaging, something about hearing and learning and knowing the stories of these horses that unlocked what had been stuck for so many months. Maybe the key to this was that statement, “Horses are afraid of two things… Things that move and things that don’t.”

Couldn’t this statement also be true of these kids? True of us? We fear it all, everything. Uncertainty motivates us. When we are so uncertain we become petrified, stuck and we return again and again to what is familiar, what is known. For our youth in the past year, they have known that the computer screen is safe. A screen will not give you a virus. A screen will not endanger your family. Safety.

However, when we are stuck in the familiar, we don’t have capacity for the new. It frightens us. Like a horse is frightened by things that move and things that don’t.

God doesn't want us to be paralyzed in fear. He wants us to trust him and to move. The Good News of Jesus cannot be shared if we are stuck in a comfortable place. This is where you and your story come into play. Telling your story makes a difference. Telling your story draws people in. Through your experiences, your hurts, your victories, people can begin to understand and find community with you. Your story is unique and important. Never believe that your story cannot make a difference. It is the key to community with others. Jesus told stories in his lessons. Parables that informed, explained and provoked thought. If we follow his example, we can use our stories for the same purposes and to minister to others.

As the world begins to turn again, we need to engage in stories: stories of pain, stories of fear, stories of victory and stories of triumph. We need to listen with open hearts, without judgement.

If the workers at the ranch had judged each horse by their story, there may have been no effort to rescue them. Too much work for a lost cause. A horse called Hero might have seemed too far gone. He was shot twice in the head by his former owner. He was left for dead but found the strength and willpower to seek help from a neighboring farm. He was then lovingly cared for and brought back to full health. Now, he has served hundreds of children at the ranch even though he was left with only one eye. His story mattered.

In engaging in the stories of others, we direct the narrative toward redemption.

Your story is still being written. You have more words, more paragraphs, more chapters to come. Just because something didn’t go the way you expected, that doesn’t mean that the story won’t have a happy ending. You must be bold. You must be engaged. You have to choose if your story is written from a posture of fear or of victory. You get to choose.

You get to be the author of your life. Write it well, sign it with a flourish… Well, maybe not too big of a flourish because then you just might spook the horses.