It was magic making time, twilight, and time to bring the horses in from the pasture. The grass was wet with evening dew. The soft light, green grass, grazing horses, and old barn formed a beautiful composition, a performance work of art. I walked out to the high barn field carrying a lead rope and apple slices. The donkeys came running at the smell of fresh apple slices, taking them delicately from my hand and chewing in delight. Dakota and Junie B each took a slice but Dixie has never learned how to take a treat from someone. I brought Junie B back in first. Sometimes they will follow each other home like children coming in for supper, but not this time. After I put Junie B up, I walked back out to get Dakota and Dixie. Dixie followed Dakota as I led him back to the stable. Michael stood by the gate to let us in. He had been watching Junie B run the fence line, frantic for her friends. The three horses nuzzled and walked down to get water, together again, bound by invisible cords of community, a family not by blood but happenstance.
The past week has been difficult for my happenstance family... a heart procedure, two wrecks, a suicide attempt, an only child dying from cancer, dialysis complications and hospitalization, death anniversaries. After awhile, you begin to feel raw all over with grief, fear, and fatigue. No wonder Jesus cried out when the sick woman touched his robe. The spiritual practice of compassion can leave you dazed and drained sometimes.
Like Junie B, I run the fence line, trying to find my happenstance family, wanting and needing them home, tucked in under the sheltering arms of a loving God who will supply their every need. And as I run the fence line, I pray for these I know who are standing, facing death and loss, remembering past griefs. I give thanks for deliverance, ask for healing. I pray for courage, grace and Loving Light to surround those who walk through darkness, hoping and trusting that the One who brought us into this world will lead us safely home.
An old hymn rings in my heart’s memory and as I sing it, I weep for those who are in dark fields trying to find their way home. “Lead me gently home, Father, lead me gently home, in life’s darkest hours, Father, when life’s troubles come, Keep my feet from wandering lest from Thee I roam, lest I fall upon the wayside, lead me gently home.” O Dear God, gently lead us all home that we might rest in your loving arms, safe and free at last. Amen.
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