Bridge Called Hope (31 page)

And now, still more has happened that will serve to continue Hannah’s legacy in a new and completely unexpected way.

“Hannah” the mustang is due to foal in the spring. And by the looks of all the action going on inside … true to her nickname … she’s going to give birth to a real little
Fireball!

Nicholas, age 5, when asked to rate his first riding
experience on a scale of one to ten: “One to ten?
Hmm … I think that riding Gideon is
a ten … THOUSAND!”

S
ince 1995 I have worked on this ranch … alone. Even though I have been surrounded by absolutely the greatest staff, volunteers, and friends a woman could ever know … my heart has carried on like a lonely soldier. Every victory, every sorrow, every shy smile, every tear, every soaring triumph, and every crushing sorrow, and all the elements that combine to create every moment of being on the ranch, has been … for me … incomplete.

From the first glimmering idea of a “ranch,” until its explosion into a giant organization that has loved hundreds of horses and tens of thousands of children … there has been, within my heart, an “imbalance.”

The disparity has thrived from the ranch’s very beginning because Troy and I both have always had other jobs outside the ranch to help financially support it. In addition to the ranch, Troy works like a warhorse with a small team as a landscape contractor, while I work mornings, evenings, and weekends as an author and public speaker. Even though there have been “skinny” times, we have always stood on our tippy toes and reached as high as we could … trusting that God would reach toward us the rest of the way. He always did, often not in times or ways we would have chosen … but He has always been faithful to see us through
with just enough. Through these unique times, we have learned that enough … is as good as a feast.

With the combined work of our hands multiplied by the incredible generosity of our extended “family,” the ranch continues to grow in wonderful, innovative directions. Kids, families, and horses are all being loved toward new and perhaps unexpected horizons. Each season seems to stair-step upward from the last, as we constantly learn how to better love, serve, and lead by example those who grace our ranch. All of it—every step—has been without question the greatest joy of my life. Truly, only one thing has tarnished my joy: The work Troy employs to help support the ranch … pulls him away from the very same. Because of his loving effort to help sustain the ranch, he has never really been home to experience it. The space at my side has remained empty.

For the past
eleven
years, Troy has rarely been at the ranch when the kids are present, he has never worked with a child and a horse, and he has been able to only participate in a few horse rescues.

He has quietly worked behind the scene to fix it, pay it, buck it, build it—how and whenever time allowed to get the job done.

To say that it has “not been easy” not only states the obvious but also speaks loud and clear to most working families who are attempting to do their own version of the same task. For more and more households, the unified battle cry is “
All
hands on deck to keep this little boat afloat!”

During the last eleven years, I have primarily been working the ranch as the “front man,” the leader, visionary, and voice of Crystal Peaks. I have daily been involved in every joyful and difficult fiber that has become what the ranch is today. Troy
has been able to experience this only from afar. I would not be honest if I didn’t say that this separation from what he has worked so hard for … has created much pain in his heart.

For many years, an internal battle has raged for control of his time, effort, attention, and love. With full understanding that he could not do what his heart was calling him to do, he had to do what he
needed
to do. Many days, for many years, ended in a veil of sorrow and frustration.

The churning turmoil of emotion, desire, fatigue, and dissatisfaction all stopped one day when truth began to permeate Troy’s heart. Just because we’re not where we want to be … doesn’t mean that God has abandoned us.

Truth came not because Troy “held on”; on the contrary, it came because … he let go.

The pounding waves within subsided when he changed the course of his heart from asking, “Lord,
how
can I get out of this season of pain?” to “Lord,
what
can I get out of this season of pain?”

Like a once rambunctious ox flailing about, he silently chose instead to … lean into the harness.

Everything changed. He still worked sunup to sundown as a landscape contractor; he still was not able to participate in the activities of the ranch; he still was the late-night and weekend fix-it man, bill payer, grant writer; he still wasn’t “home.” Yet, even so, everything was different … because
he
was different. He chose to release his grip on “
his
plan for him” and rest in
God’s
plan for him.

It can be truly difficult to grow where we are planted within God’s will … especially if we keep uprooting ourselves by seeking to be planted within our own will. The same can be said about how challenging a foe contentment can be—particularly when we are constantly fighting against it.

When we choose to let contentment win … 
we
win too.

Peace came not when Troy got what he wanted, but when he stopped fighting, stood up straight, took a deep breath, and chose to rest in God’s plan. The confession of his heart changed from “Lord, show me how to get out of landscaping and into coming home to the ranch,” to “Lord, if it is Your will that I dig ditches for the rest of my life, then I will work as hard as I can to become the very best ditch digger for You … because it is now that I fully understand: It
never
was about serving me … it
always
was about serving You.”

Truly, what a relief it is when we begin to comprehend that it is within our hardships that truth is elevated from our hearts … to our heads. It is our time in the desert, when we know how scorching hot the sun can really be, that we return with a new, profound appreciation of how precious cool water is. Our desert times are what grow us into who we can become. These difficult seasons force our roots to search deeper than simply how we feel, driving them down instead into what is
true
. Simply stated, if we choose, our hardships make us more appreciative, more balanced, more stable, more tenacious … 
they just make us better people. Perhaps the greatest thing that our hardships make us is simply … more
ready
.

After some well-spent time in the desert, my soul mate has returned. Equipped with greater wisdom, confidence, and peace, only now is Troy ready.

Because of much faithful prayer by our ranch family both near and far, and with the continuing financial support of the same … after eleven years, God’s timing has come to fruition.

As of this year … the vacancy at my side has been filled by the only one who could fill it. Now working full time at the ranch … Troy … has come home.

O
ne of my favorite accounts in the Bible occurs when Jesus was about to feed five thousand people. Jesus, already knowing what He was planning to do, gave His disciples an opportunity to bless all those present by giving “hope” in a unique form—food.

Although the disciples had a treasurer among them who had a small amount of money, when they saw the enormity of the task—the feeding of thousands—they shrank back, completely overwhelmed. Knowing that they did not have enough resources to accomplish the task at hand, they immediately conceded defeat.

Instead of giving something … 
something
 … they chose instead to give nothing at all.

This recounting brings me to my knees because it makes me come face to face with all the moments of my own life when I was confronted with a choice—to act … or not to act. So many times, when challenged with the immensity of what rose before me … I, like the disciples, chose to do nothing at all.

Realizing that I did not have what I needed to complete the job … I chose instead … to never even start.