Look at this face:
Could YOU be angry, upset, disappointed with this face?
I doubt it.
Today, I needed to trim this boy’s feet. My way of saving $400 a month is by trimming my own horses’ feet. Doc is special. He has been retired for most of the 5 years we have had him, as I bought him quite lame…quite accidentally quite lame, in fact. His story is at this website. (Just a warning…there is more there than most people would EVER want to know!)
Today he decided he had other things to do other than have a pedicure, however. It wasn’t that he was so all out nasty. He wasn’t. He was just sort of passive aggressive. Doing his feet is a big deal. His body is so out of whack. When his feet aren’t quite right, his body goes even further our of whack. Pain can be intensified for him. So I take doing his feet really seriously. I guess more seriously than he does! 🙂
As I sat on my little stool to cradle his front left foot in my lap to rasp off the edges and so forth, he just kept wanting to have his foot for his own plans.
He didn’t want to go anywhere at that moment, really. He just wanted his foot. Period. He was quite convinced that this was the thought we both should go with.
I guess he also knew that an electrical storm was brewing. About ready to rain huge pellets of water down with sound effects of thunder claps to go with it. From my perspective, I needed to make the most of the moments I had with him to get at least two of his four feet trimmed up.
I can’t tell you how frustrated I got. I didn’t get frustrated quickly, mind you. But when every time I would get to shaping his foot he pulled it away, I couldn’t get very far very fast and my back was aching from the endeavor. I just wanted to HELP him.
By the time the rain started and it was clear I had to release him to go pitch the fit that he and his buddies pitch when they get pelted with rain or hail, I was worked into quite the tizzy myself. Not only had I not gotten really to a stopping point, but I had a sore back to show for it and my tools and ME were getting all wet. I had to hurry to cover hay and a million other things that had to happen in order for the hatches to be battened down should a storm really hit and this not be just a passing wet cloud.
Can you see that there wasn’t one shred of gratitude or godly thinking going on?
As I was backing my horse trailer up to its parking place (one more thing I needed to do before the ground got too wet and the truck got stuck), I realized I wanted food and BADLY. I wasn’t hungry and my response to that realization was “SO WHAT. I DON’T CARE. I want it ANYHOW.”
A ha…once again I was in “That Place.”
I hadn’t blogged yet that have released the 5 pounds that I had gained during the week or so that I had been caught in a place of struggling to forgive. Surrendering my will to the Lord it didn’t take long to get it off! YAY!…I had done the forgiveness work and proclaimed God as God in my life again. I am NOT God…and my eating was able to return to his parameters. It was interesting to me how like clockwork it was.
So here I was in That Place again. Angry eating. I just hadn’t eaten yet. So, I asked myself the question…WHO am I angry at? Well, I know this is a ridiculous answer….I was angry at Doc! Yes, the HORSE!!!!!! Even being angry at my HORSES makes me want to eat. Is that not amazing? How sploogied could my thinking possibly be?????
I think we have uncovered a serious character flaw! How ridiculous!
If you think that is ridiculous, how much more so do I feel like a fool telling God that “Ok, Lord, I choose to forgive Doc (the horse) for not letting me trim his feet…and I choose to acknowledge that you are God of the rain, God of the thunder, and God of the horse’s feet, too.”
But it is true. If I find myself wanting food, I do just need (or so it seems) to ask myself or the Lord “Who do I need to forgive?” or, maybe, “Who do I *think* I need to forgive? Who am I angry at?”
Good grief. Poor Doc. He was being a horse sensing the pending storm and I was busy acting like a trap capturing his leg. He knew he needed his leg to run in the storm…he is a prey animal, after all. His instincts say that during a storm is NOT the time to have your legs held on to by some human trying to do a pedicure!
Silly, huh?
