Wild Stallion

Have you ever watched the process of breaking a wild stallion? I have only seen a Hollywood version myself. The animal is roped and at long last bridled, finally succumbing to loss of freedom. But yet it is far from broken.

Freedom seems to have a fragrance, and almost as if that fragrance has wafted in on a breeze, the beast suddenly seems to rise up. His nostrils flare with wild exhilaration, the muscles flex throughout his strong body; with newfound vigor the mane is violently tossed and his eyes are full of fire.

I have begun to walk -- admittedly it is halting at best, but it is independent walking none-the-less. A fragrance of liberty! So I begin to wander around the house, eyeing the laundry, the pantry cupboard, the linen closets, the bedrooms in need of spring cleaning; I consider the undone school projects, practice songs at the piano with my children, look ahead to summer happenings coming our way.

In the night seasons a bit of a panic sweeps in. My tasks seem insurmountable. I can tell the stallion is arising -- previously I did not even consider what needed to be done. There was no reason to even ponder "doings". Now, the muscles are flexing, the mane is tossing and I am ready to try. The daytime brings a better perspective; what appear to be monsters in the shadows of darkness take on a new form in the light of day. I can make lists, I can delegate, we can determine what will and will not be accomplished.

Freedom's redolence is wafting my way. My tether has not been cut loose altogether, but the nostrils have taken in the perfume. It is in the distance, this liberty I long for. I must be careful to not strain against the bridle. I will wait patiently. And in those long tormented nightseasons I will pray unceasingly, casting all care upon the one who holds all true liberty.