The Good Man and the Black Horse

Would you think less of me if I told you I had a hard week?

The truth is, I do. I think less of me.

And I think more of God.

The God who not only saved, but saves. Present tense.

(Past tense. Present tense. Future tense. Always.)

The saving, last night, came in the form of my husband. The man I share my life with. The man I share my heart with. The man I share my faith with. He brought me out to the horses...

He pulled me from my stuck place, quite literally, and out the door we went. No children. Just us, the crisp autumn air, the setting sun, and the horses.

We small talked, stepping gently around the larger looming conversation at hand. Then I placed my hands on the soft, black neck of my horse, the coat thickening for winter, and the tears, along with the words, began to flow.

I remember just earlier in the day, trying to sort through all this, and thinking, "I wish I could cry. I wish I could cry. I wish I could cry."

The crying came.

Thank God, the crying came.

And the words that I needed to pour out to my husband, and to God, came as well. The words that said, "I'm not doing so well lately. I need saving."

My husband and I have gotten past the point of expecting answers from one another. We're all too aware that neither of us has things figured out. But instead, what my husband gave to me, was what God had given to him earlier in the day, to share with his wife.

In that moment, husband's arms around me, light setting brilliant on the horizon, tears falling, horse muzzles nudging my hair, I was overcome with the love. God's love, that He would give me just the right husband. God's love, that He would send His words to me in just this way. God's love, that He would give me heart to cast out what was pulling me down.

I could stop here and leave this all to your imagination, but I don't think it would ring true unless I dug a little deeper. The thoughts went something like this...

You're not a good enough mother.

You're not a good enough wife.

You can't do it all, so don't even try.

It's going to be a long, dark winter.

What if the One you think will save you can't? Doesn't?

You can't pull yourself out of this downward spiral.

There's a fine line between acknowledging you're a sinner, versus being convinced you're not valuable. These were ugly, evil, nasty thoughts. These thoughts were not from God. And at my request, He cast them out. Away.

Immediately... The darkness was gone. Today? A better day. A day where thoughts were taken captive and handed over to Him. I day of quiet rejoicing -- and sharing -- that I belong to a God who saves.

You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness. So then, let us not be like others, who are asleep, but let us be awake and sober. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5-11