Golden moments

There are moments in time that rock us.  I remember holding his head in the setting sun as my tears cascaded over my hand tangling in his red mane, telling him it would be ok and feeling my heart shut down again. My closest living friend at the time. He just lay there, my giant majestic horse losing life. 

 I should have been one of those girls who loved horses but I wasn’t. In story books and pictures they had my heart but riding them was a different story.  Caring for them and connecting with them was hard, and it was the same with people.  Horses were hard to control they went to fast or to slow and I never quite loved them like I knew I should, like I wanted to.  Until I met Fred.  He was a Sorrel gelding with white flecks and a stubborn lazy streak that matched me perfectly.  

Most people didn’t really love Fred, but I did probably because we were similar. When I wanted to run he did. When I wanted to stand he usually did too. When he crow hopped with tiny little jumps I loved it.  I would turn him and he would listen. For the first time in my life I felt like I connected with a horse and I loved to spend time with him.  Hot summer days moving cows covered in dust and fighting flies.  Cold winter days our breathe puffs of clouds freezing and lingering.  Long conversations we had together with God. He got me like only one other person ever did, my best friend and cousin Megan, and I loved him.  

The  summer he died I said good bye to a lot of things, including Megan. She was one of the main reasons Fred and I connected so much. Megan had a horse named Danny she adored. The four of us would often ride and adventure together.  When I was fourteen her family moved to Nebraska from Illinois and her sister Mical and I became the three muskateers. Everything that could be done together we did.  When Mical left for college me and Megan became even closer.  I went to Brazil my Senior year of high school for a few months and graduated a semester late.  Which gave us more time together because I didn’t start college for another year.  Riding horses, playing soccer, school, working cows and spending time with Jesus was our life.  

The summer before I said goodbye to Fred was a golden summer.  Memories from that summer are all golden hour memories.  Moments where heaven and earth seemed to mingle and we rode our horses between them.  I remember one late summer afternoon. We had worked cows that morning and thought it would be fun to just take our horses out for a ride.  Windmills pumping water to cows were checked. Sometimes we just walked and talked lazily lounging on our horses. Other times we raced.  I still remember running full throttle, something I had always been terrified of growing up but no fear filled me. I could feel Fred’s powerful muscles rippling and I trusted him, we were one. I knew how he moved and I knew how to stay on.  It was so smooth it felt like we were flying our hair flew behind us with the wind.  Our horses feet pounded the ground throwing up golden dust.  There was not a cloud in the sky just a beautiful gold painting everything and then it started to rain and we were laughing because there were no clouds and suddenly the world smelled like sage and was filled with diamonds and rainbows suspended in air. This could only be heaven kissing earth.  The birds were singing we were laughing and talking and trotting through the rain, it felt like heaven.  We wondered at how glorious it would be to ride through heaven together. Would we one day be able to ride our horses across colored sunset clouds? 

   We topped a bright green velvet hill above horse shoe lake, its beautiful sandy shores were white.  That winter we had seen an eagle standing tall there.  But on this beautiful day it was just the four of us.  Blue water, green hills tinged with gold. We took our horses’ saddles off. Their sides were heaving and we rode them out into the water we road until they no longer touched the ground and the water lifted us off their backs and we were swimming together. It felt like we were floating and flying in the water, suspended in time.  Slowly laughing and talking dreaming about futures.  Wondering where we would go to college. If it was safe to swim with our horses, our fingers curled in their manes as their feet churned the lakes depths. We mused about Who we would marry. What our first kisses would be like.  Our hearts were so full they felt like they were going to burst. Time stood gloriously beautifully still. 

Then I left for college.  I was training three times a day as a soccer goalie. Soccer was our other love. Megan looked like a beautiful ballerina on the field. I was like a line backer with ninja skills in the goal.  We prayed before every game and dreamed of playing in college. I had gotten a scholarship and went to play in Denver. In November I came home at the end of my season disheartened that my coach had never put me in a game.

 Discouraged Megan and I  walked across the yellow hills to a windmill talking about life. Our horses were in this pasture we went to say hi and she told me she had this strange feeling that she might not live long.  She had asked God about who she would marry and he hadn’t shown her anything.  And she had asked him about that and had this feeling that she might die young…We all die.  She explained that what was strange was she wasn't scared she had a peace about it.  It was just crazy and of course not true. We just never know when we will die.  I remember my heart dropping for a moment.  My only friend who understood me even when I was being horrible, who could explain what I was thinking and feeling when all my emotions let me do was rage at people.  My friend who understood me without saying a word.  “Wouldn’t it be amazing to die if you knew that when you died many people would come to know Jesus?” she asked. 

“Of course I responded.  Thinking in theory that would be awesome. “But we will both get married!”

“Yeah!” She laughed “WE will”. That was the last conversation I remember us having before she was unexpectedly killed by a drunk driver.

 Would an early death. A death before kisses and marriage and children…would it be worth it if people met Jesus through it.  We decided it would be worth it. 

 Over a thousand people were at her funeral that Spring. Her parents and siblings visited and wrote letter of forgiveness to the drunk driver who had taken her life. So many altar calls and gospel presentations were given at her funeral I think it was impossible for people to not have met Jesus. Afterwards we had a snowball fight and I could see her laughing and smiling with us.  Even as the world was crumbling it was beautiful. 

So now this summer, another golden afternoon, only a few months after her funeral I stroked my horses head as I watched him dieing.  And I said the goodbyes I wasn’t able to say to her.  Fred looked at me. There was some pain and confusion in his eyes but I knew he knew he was loved and would tell her my goodbyes.  We would always have our golden moments. The Vet never figured out why he died. He just did. I quit the soccer team that summer.  I had tasted heaven, beauty, joy friendship and I knew what was worth living for.  These beautiful moments are treasures.  Treasures of joy and pain.  But moments when we know God is real. Golden moments that light our paths and give us hope in dark seasons when we don’t know where we are or where God is.  Moments we hold onto and share because heaven kissing earth is precious and worth living for.  Today when I talk with high schoolers about the valleys they are going through I get to share these golden moments with them too. And help them see their own gifts that God has given them to hold on to in hard times.