Bridge Called Hope (5 page)

She said that she felt like she was waging a war within her chest. All her negative emotions came fighting forward, battling for nothing less than her imminent destruction. Yet still lying there next to that little filly, she felt empowered. Strengthened by the determination of a tiny black horse and a merciful God, it was then that she realized her life was worth fighting for … and fight she did.

Her eyes shone with fire as she shared how she silently called her emotional demons to come forth, one by one, and faced her new resolution of strength given by the Lord. Every emotion that fought for destructive control of her life, she called forward and symbolically destroyed them with the very blade that they had been using to destroy her. When she was finished, she said that it seemed like remnants of sorrow, pain, bitterness, loneliness, anger, and grief surrounded her on the snow like broken leaves. Barring that she would choose to pick them up and reconstruct them, each one lay mortally broken around her.

A late afternoon breeze moved through the pines overhead. Their tranquil music was the only voice that drifted over the white, frozen ranch. Cradled together by the unmistakable lullaby
of God whispering down through the trees, two weary hearts rested against each other. It was a new start for both.

Below the boughs, resting together in a newly forged sense of freedom and peace, side by side in the snow, lay a young dreaming horse and a young dreaming girl.

Not long after, a few of the rescue team came into the bunkhouse for lunch and warmed themselves by the wood-stove. Ideas of what might be an appropriate name for the new black filly circulated. “Solstice” quickly rose to the top of the list. Her rescue came only two weeks after the winter solstice. It seemed only fitting. She had survived the darkest days of her life. From this day forward, each day would be a little brighter than the last.

While the crew was finishing up lunch, Karmen arrived. I asked her what she thought of that idea. She remained silent and thoughtful for long moments. Perhaps the image of brighter days was slowly finding its way into her heart as well. Or maybe she, too, was considering a symbolic name change.

Finally, in cool, quiet, typical Karmen style, with a half smile and a nearly imperceptible nod, she simply stated, “It’s good.”

Joshua, age 9:
“There are only two kinds of people in this world …
those who pick their nose … and
liars
.”

A
s faithful as a sunrise, little Lucas ran straight toward me, stopping only when he crashed into my thigh with a little-boy hug. He looked up at me momentarily, then quickly tucked his chin straight down into his chest. Clearly, this was his wordless invitation, summoning me to continue my “tradition.”

Not wanting to disappoint, I cupped his blond head between my hands. With great drama and ceremony, I hummed all the way until my lips touched the top of his head in a great big kiss.
Mmmwah!
I let him go as if I had been shocked by the impact. He looked back up at me with immeasurable delight … laughed once, then ran away.

It is no secret that I love kids. Most of my days gleam with the combined brilliance that these little stars carry within their hearts. Some shine with the blinding glare of a supernova, while others blink with the little twinkle of a matchstick. Despite their diversity, they are all little bright lights that continually flood my life with their unique brand of sunshine.

Most who know me understand that I love to hug and kiss. Being raised by my grandmother, I learned from the master herself. A sincere hug or a well-placed kiss can communicate a book of words in a single moment. And for many, I often
wonder if they have been held close by anyone since they saw me last.

As for kissing, my absolute favorite place is the top of the head. I am tall and kids are short, and it just makes sense that this is the perfect non-threatening place for me to kiss them. Many kids who frequent the ranch are yet unable to verbally ask for a kiss, but they wish for one nonetheless. These are my precious little ones who run up to me and either tuck under my arm and wait, or bow slightly forward, silently offering me their best kissing pose. For me, no matter how it transpires throughout the day, kissing kids is always a bright spot.

Another beautiful afternoon was winding down toward conclusion. It had been a long and somewhat difficult day filled with much physical labor and many emotional challenges. I was scheduled to meet two women. One, who I already knew well, was bringing a friend who was going through a tough season. Her intention was for me to give encouragement and support to her struggling friend.

I didn’t realize until after my guests arrived how completely exhausted I felt. After simple introductions, I led my two visitors away from the happy mayhem that surrounded the center of the ranch toward one of the picnic tables that had been pulled under the shade of a nearby locust tree. I was hoping this location might offer us a slightly more quiet and private place for the new guest to share her feelings.

I smiled to myself as the three of us approached the wooden table. It had recently been painted a lovely forest green by volunteers. What made me smile was a cartoon that had been
painted on top. It was of a goofy bi-plane pulling a banner that stretched most of the length of the tabletop and read, “Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch … You’ll love it here!”

Sensing the heaviness in my new guest, I had already decided to sit the closest to her. Once we sat down together, I immediately recognized my mistake. Those closest to me understand that the more exhausted I am, the more fractured my thought processes, and the more difficulty I have staying focused. My mistake was guiding my guests to the table and allowing them to sit with their backs to the ranch … which meant I would be facing all the happy tangle of activities behind them. This is the vantage point I normally choose, but in my weary state I knew I was about to struggle greatly to hear and comprehend what these woman came to share with me. I understand that it takes great courage to share painful family issues with a stranger, and I did not wish for any details of our conversation to be lost.

I stepped over the bench and straddled it like a horse so I could fully engage face-to-face the woman who was having a difficult time and needed the most encouragement.

The area behind her was flowing with happy pursuits. Every available leader was paired with a child, and all were whirling within various stages of ranch activity.

Although we sat to the side of the main yard on the grass, my view encompassed the entire mid-section of the ranch. To my right was the main herd corral, tacking area, and activities barn. Straight ahead was the main yard, and just beyond was the grassy hill where the kids bathe the horses, engage in squealing water fights, and have summersault races. To my left was the bunkhouse, riding arena, round pen, and another bathing lawn that was currently filled with wet kids and horses.

Many more “mini groups” of volunteers were busy administering their unique gifts to this simple little place. Adding to the grinning mayhem was a dear friend who serenaded all on her violin with her cheerful fiddling. Funny how music changes everything. Suddenly, for some, pulling weeds became a moment to “swing yer pardner” … even if your partner was a weed! It was so fun for my guests and me to watch for a moment as the entire ranch seemed to rise to the music that played across it.

Slowly, the women’s conversation moved toward family issues—the true reason for this visit. My meandering attention yanked back to the woman in front of me. Her tone was becoming more serious, and I could see her eyes beginning to shine with gathering tears.

Concentrate, Kim!
I commanded myself.
This woman is being courageous enough to give her heart … now you need to be focused enough to give her your attention!

I peered intently into the woman’s face as she continued speaking. Her words were flowing out of her mouth, but not into my ears. My gaze strained to stay within the outline of her jaw, until it broke loose again.
Wow, what a wonderful horse and child combination
that
is!
I thought, as I glanced over toward the hitching post …

Kim! Focus!

Within my fatigue-hammered heart, I was dumbfounded and a little saddened at how little of what this woman was saying was actually entering my head. I felt like a brainless test dummy for some weird hypnosis experiment.
Just stare at the lips … keep your eyes on the lips
 …

Suddenly, Lucas ran up behind the woman I was straining to focus on. He was not even three feet behind her when he stepped up onto a railroad tie that encircled a flower bed and yanked down his pants! Completely oblivious to us, with the innocence and abandonment of a three-year-old, he began to “water the flowers”! This child was maybe seven feet away from me! I could feel my eyes ping-pong back and forth between the crying woman and the peeing boy!

Not wishing to minimize the importance of the account being shared, I struggled even more to maintain my focus. Now my internal free-for-all began to pressurize as I fought hard not to smile or burst out laughing in the face of a distraught woman! I could sense that my face was turning bright red. With great difficulty, I was managing the task … until the little imp began
sky writing!