And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.” Romans 8:28
What are the chances? What are the chances that a piece of broken tack (part of a horse or mule’s saddle) would dangle in just the wrong place and cause her to think a bee was trying to sting her? What are the chances that during the chaos the saddle would come loose causing the rider to fall off—hard—hurt but not dead—hurt but not too broken? And what are the chances that all of this would happen, oh, let’s say an hour and a half from their vehicle? And finally, what are the chances that this same rider would later fall off again—not from a mule but from a horse? Well, the odds may be slim but that is exactly what happened.
After Daisy, the mule, got goosed (see Grits from July 30, 24), we decided it might be best for me to walk awhile to maybe help clear my head. So, we both walked, as my friend led Daisy and a horse named Rose, for about 45 minutes. When we reached a place where we could tie up Daisy and Rose and let us take a rest—we did. By this time, I was pretty much shot, and my arm was—like me—pretty much useless. After a few more minutes, we decided that I would ride Rose, the horse, and my friend would ride Daisy, the mule. With a little help from a log, I was able to get on Rose and soon we were plodding along. Keep in mind, we were still over an hour from our truck.
Well, we prodded and plodded until finally we came to the truck and trailer. I like trucks but that day I was so glad to see this one I could have hugged and kissed it. Now just one more thing remained—to get off the horse. There was a large piece of concrete that I had used to get on Daisy at the start of the ride, so it just made sense to use it to get off Rose. It was a plan. It sounded simple enough…until we tried to do it. Here we go and here is where lightning struck twice.
We came up to the concrete and discovered that my injured arm and shoulder just wouldn’t work. So, I tried to get off the horse, but with one arm there was no way I could get my right leg over Rose. My friend offered to help, and I gratefully said yes. So, my left foot was on the concrete, my right leg was halfway off the horse and just about that time—Rose decided to take a couple of steps back. Suddenly, my left leg was in midair, and my right leg was just over the top of Rose, and you can probably guess what happened. Yep…with nothing but air to stand on I promptly and painfully fell off the horse and once again onto the very hard ground. We both couldn’t believe it but trust me, most of all my body couldn’t believe it. It found new places to hurt…places I didn’t even know I had.
Well, I went to the truck and let my friend load the animals. I knew he felt bad but none of it was his fault. I knew I felt bad because my body was telling me so. I don’t know about Daisy or Rose but both are good animals, so they probably felt bad too. But I’ve asked myself this question. If I could have changed something would I do it? Honesty, part of me says yes and part of me says no. I love the brother that I was with—he is one of the best men I know. I wanted to spend time with him. He is an “iron sharpens iron” kind of guy and he is good for me. I saw that in how he handled my falling off mules and horses thing. To see how he responded to this adversity strengthened me.
And then there is the yet to be written part of this story. How is God going to cause good from all of this? What lessons am I going to learn that maybe couldn’t have been learned any other way? And of course, there is the fact this is a great story to tell—a guy falling off a mule and a horse all on the same day and the same trip—and living to tell about it. I can just here it now when my grandkids ask, “Papa, tell us about the day” and I do and I get to end the story with this one great truth…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne
Grits with Grace 