Riding the horse of life

I should have posted this a couple weeks ago, for my Dad. But I think now is as good a time as any to honor him.

When all of us younger kids got our first horse, we knew next to nothing about riding. So Dad began taking us out once a week, saddling our horse, and taking her for short rides around.

I mainly remember his gentleness in reminding me where to hold the reigns, how to mount, etc. It was always in a gentle voice, with no harsh tones or hard words. When I think of riding horses, this in one of the good memories, looking back to when I first got over my paralysing fear of horses, and was able to actually ride with no fear at all!

Learning to ride that horse was kind of like learning to live. I fell off so many horses when I was younger, and had to get back on. I've fallen off how I should live so many times, and somehow I've managed to get back on. Mainly with my parents direction.

Thanks Dad for being able to look back at how you helped me to not fear, and being able to look forward to training my children in the same way. I love you!

Sowing Seeds

When I was little, one of my homework assignments was to write a story. I really don't remember what I was supposed to write, except maybe that it had to do with bringing people to church. Maybe. Anyway, I can remember staring at that piece of paper, and honestly believing I couldn't write that story. I also remember my Mom sitting next to me, thinking out loud with ideas and words that I could use. Right now, looking at that story, I can laugh at the misspellings, the bad grammar, and all the little things that could never work. But my Mom planted in me a seed to write. I doubt she remembers that homework assignment, although I'm pretty sure she remembers the terrible and mysterious "Wahanee and the great big storm" which had my model horse as a hero. When my Mom helped me write that, it was not just the one-on-one time that I craved. It was sacrificing of her time and lots of energy to help me be fulfilled. It was the encouragement of hearing her say "That's a good idea, can we put it here?" It was the fact that she was never impatient, or in a huge hurry to get things done. Those aren't just good memories. They are a basis for my writing now. My Mom sowed seeds in me. Of writing, of patience, of sacrifice. Do you all have a person in your life who inspired you to do the best you can? Or inspired you to do what you're doing now?