Into the Fire

On vacation three years ago I got to hold a baby wolf puppy. He was too cute.

Many years ago when a bunch of us racetrackers were playing softball somewhere near Golden Gate Fields in Albany, California, I got my nose broken by a line drive to the pitcher: me. I never saw the ball. I just felt it. I did a bit of a pirouette and dropped to my knees with the blood gushing. Several days later when I had to have it straightened, the doctor deadened it with liquid cocaine and then cracked it into place. You’d be amazed how loud it was.

Once when I was taking a filly to the paddock to get saddled for a race, she spooked at something and planted her front feet in the ground. Problem was my foot was under one of hers and she clipped off the tip of the middle toe on my right foot through my shoe. I had to go to the hospital after the race where they numbed the toe and further snipped off the bone and stitched the top of my toe over it.

We trained several ornery fillies through the years, but one in particular had to be watched at all times. I fed her the evening grain, but I had to fill her water bucket and snap it in her stall. I watched her the whole time while I was snapping it to the screw eye, but she lunged at me anyway and bit me right in the face and knocked me up against the stall wall before I could even react. I threw the bucket of water on her. She bruised me pretty good, but it could’ve been a lot worse.

Many years ago during a prayer time at church, I prayed for a man who was scheduled to have knee surgery and stood before me on crutches. I really felt the Lord nudging me to ask for his healing, so I expressed my request with an admittance that I wasn’t sure my faith was particularly strong, but I had to ask. The surgery was canceled by the doctor who told the man he no longer needed it.

Father, you have watched over me my whole life. Such grace. Such kindness. I love you, Lord. Thank you forever. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.