Somerset: The Wounded and the Wild

I wandered up winding roads through the remote countryside this week, happily stumbling upon horse farm after horse farm. The unseasonably warm weather we have had this year had left the grass a vivid green in most places. The damp wooden fences outlining the multi-thousand acre spread hinted at the pretentious side of Kentucky, or so I have read.

I always long to slow down when I go by a trotting Shire horse. A dream of mine has been to dwell someday on a farm with thoroughbred horses like those. I am always mesmerized by the way they majestically gallop through the fields, so powerfully, yet so gently. I dare say the grass under their hooves does not mind their heavy presence at all. How could it?

Horses are most certainly the only creatures I truly adore. To have the luxury of riding each day across hundreds or thousands of acres would make me so gloriously happy. I gaze upon these gorgeous creatures, hearing Holy Spirit ask, “Why do those horse owners keep their most prized horses, their most prized possessions, safely behind a fence?”

“To protect them from the world,” I replied. “If they were mine, I would never let them out unless I rode them out myself! I would protect them with all of my might.”

“Exactly,” Holy Spirit chuckled. Funny how some don’t interact with Holy Spirit as I do. We’ve always been able to share laughs.

He continued my lesson for the day, “In the same way, I endeavor to keep my precious ones safely inside a fence, of sorts, to protect them from the enemies of this world. For some people, their safety lies in staying close to their church, or staying faithful to their marriage. For others, their safety is found within the boundaries of their calling. I do not give them borders to trap them in or withhold good things from them. I give the boundaries to protect them. Once in a while I will meet one who refuses protection. I am a gentleman. In that case I have no choice but to let them go their own way.”

“That must be difficult,” I replied. “I can see you’re trying to teach me something. Please, continue…“

“Do you remember the book, The Broken Horse?” He continued. “That horse, Frisco Leon, had suffered a horrific accident. It was traumatized to the degree it needed to be mercifully put down. However, the owner wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, the owner hired a healer to come in and try to salvage what life Frisco had remaining.

The healer suspended Frisco in the air in a harness at first, until the internal bleeding had stopped and all the broken bones had healed. Then, it had to be kept in a small, confined stable until it could be known it wouldn’t re-break any of those fragile bones. Once Frisco had been rehabilitated enough to leave the stables, it was transferred to a farm with few other horses. It needed to be alone for a while. Upon arrival Frisco was wild and rebellious. He preferred to eat and run and sleep far away from the other horses and farmhands.

Holy spirit went on to say the healer would come several times a week to slowly build a relationship of trust with Frisco, but Frisco refused all such methods. Some of the healer’s methods seemed cruel, but the healer had to do it to break Frisco’s will if he had any hope of ever being well enough to be used again.

That’s the thing about wild, wounded horses. Without trust and relationship, they are of almost no use to the owners. They are a law unto themselves. Nevertheless, the healer seemed slightly hopeful. He made up his mind he wouldn’t give up on Frisco, even when all evidence pointed to the contrary.

Frisco often broke loose and ran wild. He was having none of the healer’s therapies. One day he ran so far the other farm hands couldn’t find him. Instinctively, the healer knew right where he’d be. He approached Frisco in the wisest of ways.

Instead of roping Frisco in and going to war with him, the healer copped a squat in the field and patiently waited. He knew Frisco had every right to want to never have a saddle put on him again. He had every right to never want to be ridden or of good use to his owner.

So, he waited … He built a fire in the distance and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited …

He stayed just close enough for Frisco to see him, but he did not approach him. The healer was the ultimate gentleman. He did not force himself upon the horse. He waited for the horse to come to him.

You see, when Frisco was traumatized, and made up his mind to never be saddled again, the healer had to wait for him to decide he wanted to be useful again. Forcing that decision onto the horse will only make him more traumatized and fearful. Waiting was the only option.

Just as the light was growing dim upon the horizon, after several long days of waiting, something changed for Frisco. He slowly walked towards the Healer, nose down in submission. It was a beautiful moment. Frisco was finally ready for relationship again.

Relationship is everything for a horse, and for its master. The horse serves the master, and the master, in turn, takes care of the horse. This relationship is a wondrous example of of how healing must come to God’s children if they want to be a part of His family. They cannot be all willy-nilly and live life of their own accord. They must be willing to submit. Being wounded and traumatized too often prevents this exchange.

Wounded people are hard to work with. They are stubborn and fight God at every turn. He wants to keep them in the stable or inside the fence for healing and safety, but they will run headlong into a ravine. He faithfully saves them from being stuck and hurt, time and time again. Yet, many never break out of this pattern.

Holy Spirit said he was given to the world by Jesus when He ascended to Heaven in order to guide and help facilitate healing in wounded people’s lives. “I want them to come to me when they’re broken and bloody, let me clean them up, and show the world how beautiful and strong they really are. Yet, they buck and run and get themselves all muddy just before the show, so to speak. It can be a daunting task, but it’s one I’m committed to until the very end. Nothing they could do will ever cause me to veer from my path, my purpose.

God’s children get hurt by the cruelty of this world and use their hurt as an excuse to rebel against the His ways, the only One who can truly help them. They have a right to be angry, but they must lay down their anger if they want to get better and make the most of this life.

The process of healing is simple: I start with suspending them in the air. I wait for the urgency of their ‘bleeding’ to stop, and for their broken ‘bones’ to not hurt as much. This is the stage of grief where the person is still in shock. For them, the world has stopped turning. When they can breathe easy again, move again, a loving person, ideally, comes in to help them get to the next stage of grief.

It is important for you, your parents and other ministers to know if they are more like crisis room doctors, delivering temporary help, or long-term care doctors. A truly traumatized person will kill a crisis doctor if that doctor does not know when to let go of the patient and turn them over to a long-term care doctor who can facilitate the remainder of their recovery. A crisis room doctor is more sensitive and built for immediate care. Hanging onto a person too long will hinder them from caring for the next wounded individual.

So, emotional surgeons, long-term care doctors, therapists (all roles a pastor serves as at one time or another), also need to understand their role in the person’s healing journey.

Next, the wounded individual is confined to a safe recovery center where they will not harm themselves or others. Their assignment in this season of grief is simply to “be still.” You always hear nurses telling patients when to be still or when to move. The patient is told to simply put one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, and to rest. Eat, drink, sleep and stay focused on the good things. This is a time in life where the patient avoids toxic, negative people who can rip at the fabric of their soul.

This season is where I instruct them to attend a particular church on schedule, focus on a particular job, or simply stay home and take care of their family faithfully as best they can. This is where I give them strict guidelines and borders to aid their recovery.

Then, I transition the to a place of safety, like a horse farm with high fences. They can still run around, but within reason. At this place they will meat their healer (counselor, nurturer, parental figure) who will guide them towards trust and relationship once again. The patient will fight back at first, but eventually they come to a place of wholeness again. Healers will know when to approach, and when to sit back and wait. Healers will know when it’s time to hang on and when it’s time to let go.

Submission to the healing process is key to success in the life of the patient. Every future step hinges upon it. Father God is always faithful to heal a wounded soul. He will restore their dream or give them a new dream. He will saddle them up and take them on an adventure they never previously anticipated.

Never forget, Somerset, God still loves the wold horses. If they never did another day’s useful work, He loves them all the same. We will happily sit in a field with a wild, wounded animal or person for as long as it takes. We love the wild ones just as much as the tame. Their wildness limits His abilities to use them. It limits my abilities to take them to all of the wonderful places I long to show them. But, they are equally loved nonetheless.

Oh, but wouldn’t it be beautiful if the wild ones would let us throw on a saddle and grab the reins. The places we would go, and how fast we could get there!”

Dearest ones, I came to the end of my walk, arriving at our summer stomping grounds again, and I feel a new determination in me to trust Father God more deeply with the wounds of my own heart. I will endeavor to hand over the reigns to Him for a change, and stop seeking my own stubborn ways. I am certain I will be surprised how quickly He takes me to the places of which I have dreamed, and those I have not.

This week’s thought provoking questions: In what ways do I need to surrender and receive my own inner healing? In what ways am I fighting for my right to be angry at my Healer, refusing to go with Him on a potentially wondrous journey? How am I allowing fear of pain or being trapped to hold me back?

A note from the author: Watch the movie “The Horse Whisperer” for more insight on how longsuffering Father God is to us during our healing process.