Horses and Searching for God

Horses and Searching for God
By Kris Garrett

I’m on a roll this week. I’m going from PAP smears to God. What’s next? Politics? Oh my!

Today is Easter. Many of my Facebook Friends are posting, “He is Risen!” Wouldn't it be more correct to say, “He Rose!” or “He has Risen!”? I don't get it. I was not brought up in a classic “Christian” environment, so I don't totally understand the nuances of the wording.

Both my Mom and Dad had grandfathers who were Christian ministers. One Lutheran and one Methodist. These were hard-core, fire and brimstone kind of guys. They pounded their respective pulpits and made God into a very scary entity who must be obeyed without question, or else. I believe this is why neither of my independent-minded parents had a passion for religion. They got scared out of faith very young, and did not want to put their own children through that kind of trauma.

My mom got interested in Metaphysics back before it was cool. It was labeled “occult” back then and was very hush hush. You simply didn’t tell people you meditated or read books that were “channeled” by “entities.” You didn’t want to be labeled, one of (GASP) thoooose...

My Dad is a scientist who doesn’t believe in anything he can’t see, touch, or hear. He was too busy working in the darkest side of the human world to be bothered with invisible Spirit beings.

But me? Well, since I can remember, I have felt this need, this empty place, that I suspect a deep belief in God might fill. I took every religion class offered in high school. I’ve visited every denomination of church I could find in the big city of Denver (which is a lot of churches, by the way). I have a whole bookcase full of books on philosophy, spirituality, and the world’s religions. I even took a few classes at a well known “cult” church, to see what all the fuss was about. (Be afraid! Be VERY afraid!) I’ve been searching most of my life, but I’ve not yet found my mustard seed of faith.

I’m envious of people who have real faith in God and/or Jesus. I see the strength it gives them. Two of my favorite horse trainers have that kind of faith in their lives. They are secure in their Christianity. Observing the confidence they have in these invisible Beings makes me wish my parents had exposed me to religion back before I became so darn analytical. Maybe if I had been exposed young enough, I would now have true Faith in my heart.

But I would be lying or pretending if I said I fully believed the story of Jesus as written in the Bible. I WANT to believe, but I can’t pretend that I actually do. It all feels like human on human manipulation, and a big fib told as a means for male dominated, ego based control.

So, what does this have to do with horse training?

Last week I got rattled when a huge unexpected bill showed up in the hands of our roofing contractor. Panic set in. As often happens to me when confronted with money issues, I was immediately dizzy and sick to my stomach.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I tossed and turned, wishing once again that I believed in a god or spiritual entity who would handle this situation for me. I felt so alone and confused. I alternated between anger that we were being conned, and horror that I may have made a mistake and missed some fine print.

Through the jumble of thoughts, a vision of Tom popped in my mind. I visualized him holding a lead rope with a calm, quiet, relaxed horse on the other end. In my mind I heard him say, “the horse is looking for a safe place to be. That’s all he really wants. He’s okay when he’s in a place where he believes he can relax, knowing confidently that his leader is taking care of things.”

I pulled up the covers and snuggled my sleepy little dog a bit tighter to my chest. I thought about how it must feel to have true faith in God or Jesus Christ. Perhaps that “safe place’ the horses are looking for is the same kind of thing people yearn for. Perhaps that’s why religion was invented to begin with. People who really believe, people who find a place of safety in their religion or Faith, must not worry the way I do. Horses find this assuring mental space by giving their worries to their trusted leader, be it horse or human. Once again, I realized that we are no different. Horses and humans have the same need.

I closed my eyes and mentally apologized to God for not being sure I believed in Him. I decided I would pretend for a moment that I actually did. Knowing full well that I was acting, I pretended that God cared. I pretended that God would handle this situation. I pretended I was safe.

Remembering Tom’s words, I created a safe “place” in my mind. I visualized a giant purple flower that was so big I could stand in the center. The petals represented God’s safety and protection. I imagined the flower pedals lifting and closing up around me in a soft, loving embrace. I stood still in the middle of the flower and envisioned a cocoon of warmth and love surrounding my body. I pulled the covers in a bit tighter. I pretended that this was my safe, God protected place. Nothing could harm me. Nothing could get in. Soon, I was sound asleep.

The next day, John and I went to Village Inn for lunch. We ran into our old friend Wally. Wally was visiting with a sad looking young man, I suspect was a counseling client. We hugged, I said hi to his companion, and left him to his work.

Wally and I went to the police academy together back in the 80’s. He 's the only former cop friend I've kept in regular contact with. He’s a very unique and social fellow who knows just about everyone in town. It’s impossible not to like him.

One of Wally’s purposes in life is to help fellow alcoholics. He’s been an AA sponsor for decades, and has a long history of success. He's proud of his sobriety and loves helping others. He’s so good at supporting people in emotional pain that about a third of his clients have no connection to substance addiction at all. They just need kind, effective help.

About half way through our lunch, Wally said farewell to his companion and sat down at our table. We caught up on old times and new. We talked about my brother’s challenges with alcohol, and I lamented the anguish this problem causes my entire family. Wally looked at me and said, “I finally figured it out. People don’t have an alcohol problem, we have a Spiritual problem.”

I felt my eyes go wide. For the first time, I got it. I realized my brother has the same problem I do. My brother and I both have a Spiritual problem. He doesn’t have “Faith” any more than I do. He has no safe place to be. He has no Greater Power to whom he can hand over his struggles. He has no Leader he can trust. Like me, he feels all alone. It doesn’t matter that we’re around people -good, loving people- all the time, we’re STILL ALONE. Anxiety has ruled his life, just as it always has my own. The only difference is, my brother anesthetizes himself and fills that horrible, frightening void with beer. I do it with food.

I sat there staring at Wally, not sure how to ask for more information. How do you solve a “Spiritual” problem? Moving my feet, going on a church search, reading more books, and paying a gaggle of “gurus” for insight, has broadened my mind but has not solved the real problem.

So I end this blog, still asking that question. Is there a Greater Power, and does He care about me? How can I convince myself to believe in a loving, personal “God”? I’ve spent hours talking about this with my dear friend (and trainer) Melanie. I listened with rapt attention as she describes her personal relationship with Jesus Christ and her unshakable Faith in the Holy Spirit, hoping a little will rub off on me. She’s always patient with my questions and never judges my inability to simply Believe.

I don’t know how to fix this problem. I can’t intellectualize it away. I can’t expect my mind to be changed by other people’s experiences and convictions. I need God to put me on the end of His lead rope and move my feet. I need to know He’s got my back. I need to be so confident in His ability to keep me safe that I can drop my guard and take a breath. I need to know I am protected. I desperately want to believe, without any hesitation or doubt, that He is REAL.

Perhaps, someday…

-Kris