Tonight is a windy, temperate fall night. It’s the kind of night in which a loose aluminum gate blows in the wind and gently creeks. It’s the kind of night in which the sun slowly sank un-noticed while we had a family meeting filled with exuberant life and vigor. The three older girls rushed to their Christmas performance practice at church while Dasen, Elle and I tended to some matters on the farm.
It was shortly after 6 o’clock when Elle and I walked to the front pasture, carrying a halter and lead line for Hope, Hadiah’s 2 1/2 year old horse in training. Hadiah had had trouble getting her in from the field earlier in the day, and I told her I’d go out and put her in the corral to separate her from the other horses. I had a feed scoop to lure Hope toward me and provide a friendly gesture. She didn’t want the halter on, and as she threw her head around, I quickly sent Elle to the other side of the fence to be out of harm’s way. Then after applying the halter, I responded to her pulling up and away from me, with a few quick jerks on the lead line and firmly saying, “No.”
That’s when everything went terribly wrong. Hope reared much higher this time, very close to me as I had the lead line in my hands and she was less than an arm’s length’s away. Then it seemed moments held in time, while I tried to process what had just happened. My mind was sharpened to a present acuity that I have not experienced previously. I was in imminent danger as the horse’s hoof when rearing had gotten stuck in the hood of the winter coat I was wearing. It took me a while to process this and I jerked hungrily toward the hood and hoof, trying to seperate them. I yelled as loudly and clearly as I could for Dasen, realizing with the wind, and the truck engine he was working on, that he couldn’t hear me. My mind was very calm and orderly while the horse jerked and pulled. Next I yelled to Elle...”Go get Daddy”, which she did, but I knew he couldn’t get there in time, and there was no way he could rescue me. The next option, my mind focused on was “I have to remove this coat.” More jerking and pulling as my body was thrown around. I yanked at the zipper, thinking “I have to stay up, if she pulls me down I will be trampled and drug. I have to stay...." and bam, down to the ground I was thrown, with the hoof still lodged and thrashing inches from my head. All within the same instant of realizing Dasen couldn’t get there in time, and I couldn’t get the coat off, and I have to stay up, and the jerking motion of being pulled backward, I yelled....”Heavenly Father!”, knowing He was (and is) my only hope. Then in that instant, God worked a miracle. I was down on the ground with my head between her hooves while she pulled fiercely, and my jeans tearing as she pulled my body across the ground, and as soon as those words “Heavenly Father” broke between my lips, the hoof came dislodged, and amazingly she didn't stomp on me as she made contact with the ground again.
Much processing will be done with prayer and caution as we assess the safety of interacting with horses. My life was very nearly trampled with 1000 pounds of equine force in contact with my head- which is still very sore and swollen. Yet this I know...my Heavenly Father is real and He saved me. By no other Name can one be saved. He alone holds the power of horses and oceans, and He alone is mighty to save. I am still processing the shock and adrenaline and fear and bewilderment of how quickly things went awry and what could have/should have been done to prevent it. Yet my fear of nearly being killed or disabled, is succumbing to a joy because God rescued me. He personally heard me and cared. I cannot contemplate any others who feel they have not been rescued by God, all I know is that I called out loud and clear, sure of Him, and He rescued. My Heavenly Father is a Rescuer. There is nothing better than knowing Him and being in His personal care.