Do Not Go Gently....

Sorrow often burrows in a heart.  It lingers and while the eyes may remain dry, there is a well of tears that hover, just below a normal surface.
There reaches a point where the soul's fatigues weigh heavy on the body, where a spirit has carried heartache until the point that it, too, must rest from a weary load.
It is the point where the church should not ask what you can do for it, but what it can do for you.
When I find the sorrow and weariness resting too close to the surface, I seek God.  I do not seek Him in buildings of wood and concrete.  I seek Him in the wild places.
I find Him in those places where man is an intruder, where the workings of nature as clear,  where weather blows wild, the sun beats down and life finds a way to thrive.
I find Him in broad vistas, wind swept plains and the frail structure of a dew sprinkled spider's web.  I find comfort in the animals.  I find comfort in watching the simple joy of a sparrow in flight, a hawk on the wing, a deer who treads softly along needle strewn paths.
I retreat to the comfort that I found as a child.  I re-open to the bird song, and the happy panting of my dog.  I let my hands trail the soft smooth sides of a horse, I sit and watch ducks glide through the water.  I will lay on the earth, and let the sun warm those cold parts within me. Animals have always shown me the higher part of life, by not worrying over it.  They show me the joy of the present, no worries of tomorrow, no regrets of the past. 
While this retreat was planned well in advance, God knows my needs and it dove tails into what my soul yearns for, as only the Creator can do.
I will leave my sorrows in the wild places.  I will leave them for the birds to ponder, circle and ignore.  I will leave them in the winds and they will rush by strange places that haven't heard the voice of man. I will come home, refreshed in spirit, my eyes reopened and my heart full of joy.
I will be able to face the memories of my sorrows with gentle knowledge that, yes, this too, shall pass.  I will face them knowing that I have survived, I will face more, and I will survive again.
So, I don't go gently.  I go with an ocean of tears to give to a desert.  I go with emotions that roil across the landscape of my heart.
But in the return........ I will return with gentle fire, and I will be better to have felt it.

And how was your day?

A Gallant and Noble Friend

There seems to be much sadness here at the Rooney Ranch.....
Today we had to say Good-bye to Challenger, my father's Morgan horse.  Foaled on the exact day of the Challenger accident, he earned his name to remember those lost souls who looked to the stars and found Heaven.
He was an arrogant snot who was very friendly and would lick continually until your guard was down, then he would take a nip.  Nothing serious, just a reminder that his teeth were bigger.
Everywhere he went, it was a parade and he flew his tail high to let all admire him.  He was a clown, a bossy meanie, a softie and a trail leader.
My father nursed him through colic surgery and later on, Challenger nursed my father through a heart attack.  He was likable to all, but most fond of my father.  I would take him on rides where he would gait his way through a trail, yet always glad to be back to my father, his buddy.

I was with this fine horse when he slipped the bonds of earth.  He cast off a crippled body and galloped off to the greener pastures. 

So, to Challenger, may you find lush meadows, smooth trails and cool water.....and lots and lots of carrots.

Little Wranglers Junior Rodeo or How to Exhaust a Parent

There are a hundred and one ways to exhaust a parent.....and we found a new one.
Caitlyn and her intrepid partner, Sam, have discovered Little Wranglers Junior Rodeo, a group whose purpose is to introduce children to rodeo in a safe and supportive manner.  It does, all night long!
While I totally love it, and Caitlyn is having a wonderful time, we find ourselves not getting home until about midnight, and we leave after the fourth event!!!
She competes in barrel racing, flag race and pole bending.  For those who don't know rodeo, let me explain.  Barrel racing involves three barrels set up in a clover leaf pattern.  The rider races at top speed circles the barrels one at a time and races back.  The flag race involves a flag set on a barrel at the end of the arena.  The rider races to the barrel at top speed, grabs the flag and races back. At full speed.  In poles, the rider races at top speed through a pattern of six poles. Then they race back, at full speed.  Sense a theme here?  These are timed events and while my daughter is full gunning, God bless her horse, Sam.  Sam has a sensible head on him and understands his full job is "do what The Girl tells you to, but get The Girl home safely". I love this horse.
This is Caitlyn and Sam with their friend, Allie.  Notice Caitlyn's helmet.  She is one of three that wear them.  She wasn't happy, but it was part of our deal.

  

Twice now, we have been moved to an indoor area due to lightning.  Here is what happens while kids wait for their events.

Here, two girls show that, yes, they can mulit-task by cooling their horses AND talking:

 

For the kids Five and under, the calf scramble.  There is a ribbon tied to a calf and the kids are on that poor creature like zombies on the slow guy.

These horses are chosen for their ability to work well with kids, like this...ummm, full figured gal.

So, as the kids wait their go-rounds, the adults eat fantastic BBQ in the stands.  They wait to cheer on the cautious slow runs as much as the fast runs.  They saddle, bridle, lead and wipe tears.  They coach, they feed, they drive the trailers.  Some day, some of these youngsters may end up in Pro Rodeo.

Then, they can stay up to midnight on their own.

And how was your day?

Goodbye and Godspeed

Things are always busy in our world, but this season was especially so.  We experienced baseball and tournaments, our first rodeo and most importantly, a deep loss.
After enjoying his life and this beautiful world for 90 full years, my Grandfather slipped quietly to his place in heaven on June 6th.  It was a quiet passing in the night, where he was watched and held by earthly angels as well as those that came to shepard him home.
He was a WWII veteran, a member of the elite Navy Sea Bees.  He was a dedicated father, a loving grandfather and a hands on great grandfather.
He and my Grandmother came to the High Plains when we did.  My Grandmother had a terminal disease and Grandpa needed help.  My mother became a caretaker, again.  Grandpa arrived from Florida in fine white Bermuda shorts and lightweight shirts.  He quickly went native and wore blue jeans and a bola tie.
He was an active member of Kiwanis and delivered Meals on Wheels well into the point he should have been receiving them.
An active member of the church, he was part of the Men's Prayer Group and avid participant in church activities.

My Grandfather passes and leaves a hole in our lives.  It is a temporary hole, as one day, we will join him in heaven, whole, healthy and full of love.