Wild Horses – A Survival Story Part 5
My brain felt like an old TV – one that can’t quite get a signal and only shows grey fuzz. I tried to open my eyes, but my eye lids were very heavy. I felt like I was floating… no, I was falling. The wind whipped my clothes around my body, and I could feel the sleeves tightening around my wrists. I turned around and looked down – ground. I jolted to a stop, slamming into the hard dirt. Instantly I was surrounded by a herd of wild, frantic horses. They were pawing and rearing, their over-sized hooves coming uncomfortably close to my body.
I tried to stand up and run, but was kicked back to the ground. I could hardly breath. I gasped for air and flailed my arms around, hitting whatever I could. I tried standing again, and managed to get away from the herd; but only to run straight into the face of the stallion. He reared up, pawing the air, then lunged…
My Work
Work’s been super slow for a couple weeks. Last week I worked just over ten hours, and so far this week I’ve only worked for about three hours. It’s been a little frustrating not having the work (or the money), so I started looking for a part-time job yesterday. I couldn’t find anything, so on a whim I decided to see what options there were for full-time jobs in Peoria. Bingo! There were several that I’m either qualified for, or will train new employees.
If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s been that it’s unwise to rush into something without lots of prayer and thought. So I decided to go walking on a bike trail near my house and pray/think about whether I should try to get a new job, or keep working for Fedi.
There’s something about beautiful weather and crisp, clean air that aids thought. I felt a calm while I was walking (and running, a little bit), and I realized that what I choose to do for a career isn’t what matters – it’s times when I can enjoy God’s creation, get to know Him better, spend quality time with people, and be a blessing: it’s times like those that matter.
I also decided that I haven’t given the Hungarian Handyman enough time – sure, I’m not making any money right now, but it doesn’t really hurt me too much since I’m living with my folks. Instead of focussing on my problem of not having work, I can find other things to do. My cello has been neglected a bit lately – I can catch up on practice. I started Oakey back into riding training last week – I can continue that.
So, for now, I’m sticking it out. If anything, this is another opportunity to practice patience.
Forty Signs of Life
I just finished reading Signs of Life by David Jeremiah. What an amazing book! The book was designed to be read a chapter a day, for forty days of new challenges. It’s definitely high on my recommendations list.
The last chapter of the book is simply a list of the forty signs of life talked about in each chapter. Even though it had been months since I read the first chapters (yeah… I didn’t quite get through the book 40 days), they were still challenging and encouraging to read. They are:
1. My words and actions evidence Christ’s indwelling.
2. My faith is expressed through works.
3. I am a source of light in a dark world.
4. Every moment of my life is a living moment with God.
5. I am conscious of influencing those around me.
6. Those who witness my life see Jesus.
7. The imprint of my Christian life will remain for eternity.
8. I am willing to get my feet dusty in the streets of my community.
9. My walk supports my Christian talk.
10. Opportunities to share Christ are divine appointments.
11. The most important thing to say is “Jesus loves you.”
12. The needs of others are as important as my own.
13. I am a walking, living advertisement for the Lord.
14. Every day I create incriminating evidence to prove that I am a follower of Christ.
15. Hearing the Lord’s direction begins with prayer.
16. I am open and listening for God’s direction.
17. Unconditional surrender to God brings me spiritual victory.
18. My love for God is greater than my affection for anything in this desirable but deadly world.
19. My life is not plagued by worry because I am held tightly in God’s hands.
20. I am willing to be pliable in the hands of God.
21. I participate in personal ministry that impacts my community.
22. The world sees the heart of God through the work of my hands.
23. The major theme of my life is love.
24. My behavior reflects the teaching of Jesus.
25. Those two come in contact with me leave encouraged.
26. I courageously walk though the open doors God puts before me.
27. My life makes waves in the hearts of those around me.
28. Humility is the hallmark of my service.
29. I look for ways to generously give to others.
30. I give to others because God has given richly to me.
31. Nothing stands in my way of following Jesus.
32. God is free to use any area of my life to do his will.
33. I am a faithful steward of all God has given me.
34. I take time each day to mine God’s word.
35. There is always more I can do for God’s kingdom.
36. Compassion is my passion.
37. I care… regardless.
38. Others will know I am a Christian by my love.
39. My love for others is not conditional on their meeting my standards.
40. I am a channel of God’s grace to others.
Wild Horses – A Survival Story Part 4
After several hours of unsuccessfully searching for food, I was beginning to give up hope of being able to come out of this wilderness alive. It seemed that my only hope would be for someone to find me – but in a wasteland like this, chances of that happening were slim to none.
I pulled the nearly empty water bottle out of my backpack and unscrewed the top. Looking down through the opening at the water sloshing around in the bottom I was faced with a choice – I could either drink it all now and be really thirsty on the way back to camp, or wait to drink it later and be really thirsty now. Before I could come to a decision, I was startled by a stream of warm air being blowing down my neck. I turned around slowly and came face-to-face with what seemed to be the stallion of the herd I ran into the day before – and he wasn’t looking any more friendly today than he had yesterday.
Thinking quickly, I decided that I should try making friends the horse rather than run away. Slowly I brought my hand up to pet the horse’s nose, but before I could get very close the horse snorted and lunged at my shoulder. I darted back, just missing what could have been a very painful nip. I had dodged one danger, but fell right into another – I bumped into a mother horse. She screamed and kicked.
Everything went black.
Spirit
For around 5 years, the “grass menagerie” (as Dad puts it – referring to the animals in our pasture) consisted of Oakey and the three goats. Last fall we added a sheep, and during the early part of winter we got a cow. Well, the herd has been added to yet again – Sprit, a miniature pony!
To Build a Fire, by Jack London
I ran across this story while reading a wilderness survival book last night – it’s quite interesting, and sobering.
DAY HAD BROKEN cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little-travelled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. It was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, excusing the act to himself by looking at his watch. It was nine o’clock. There was no sun nor hint of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky. It was a clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun. This fact did not worry the man. He was used to the lack of sun. It had been days since he had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more days must pass before that cheerful orb, due south, would just peep above the sky-line and dip immediately from view.
“The Yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice.”
The man flung a look back along the way he had come. The Yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice. On top of this ice were as many feet of snow. It was all pure white, rolling in gentle undulations where the ice-jams of the freeze-up had formed. North and south, as far as his eye could see, it was unbroken white, save for a dark hair-line that curved and twisted from around the spruce-covered island to the south, and that curved and twisted away into the north, where it disappeared behind another spruce-covered island. This dark hair-line was the trail—the main trail—that led south five hundred miles to the Chilcoot Pass, Dyea, and salt water; and that led north seventy miles to Dawson, and still on to the north a thousand miles to Nulato, and finally to St. Michael on Bering Sea, a thousand miles and half a thousand more.But all this—the mysterious, far-reaching hair-line trail, the absence of sun from the sky, the tremendous cold, and the strangeness and weirdness of it all—made no impression on the man. It was not because he was long used to it. He was a newcomer in the land, a chechaquo, and this was his first winter. The trouble with him was that he was without imagination. He was quick and alert in the things of life, but only in the things, and not in the significances. Fifty degrees below zero meant eighty-odd degrees of frost. Such fact impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, and that was all. It did not lead him to meditate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon man’s frailty in general, able only to live within certain narrow limits of heat and cold; and from there on it did not lead him to the conjectural field of immortality and man’s place in the universe. Fifty degrees below zero stood for a bite of frost that hurt and that must be guarded against by the use of mittens, ear-flaps, warm moccasins, and thick socks. Fifty degrees below zero was to him just precisely fifty degrees below zero. That there should be anything more to it than that was a thought that never entered his head.
Wild Horses – A Survival Story Part 3
When I woke up the next morning the sun was just peaking over the mountains on the horizon. It was fairly chilly – enough to make me wish I had some matches to make a fire with. I pulled my jacket tighter around my chest to warm up. I knew that if I wouldn’t be able to get out of this back-country within the month, I’d have have to do something about building an enclosed shelter before Autumn changed to Winter.
After climbing out of my trench I walked to the spring where I took a long draught. After being refreshed by the water, I decided to take a look around to see what I could find for food – mint was good, but it alone wouldn’t be enough to keep me alive. I packed all my possessions into my backpack (my captors had been kind enough to leave me with a pocket knife, water bottle, and bandana when they dropped me off) and set out.
As I walked, I subconsciously was watching for the herd of horses. They were fascinating and frightening to me all at the same time; I desperately wanted to see them again, but at the same time I was terrified of running into them.
Proverbs 31 – Woman and Man
The Proverbs 31 Woman
• Far above rubies.
• Does good for her husband.
• Works willingly with her hands.
• Cares for her household.
• Only buys what is good.
• Knows how to work.
• Is wisdom.
• Is not idle.
• Fears the Lord.
The Proverbs 31 Man
• Doesn’t give his strength to women.
• Doesn’t drink strong drink.
• Pleads for and helps the poor and needy.
• Trusts in his wife.
• Learns from the elders (gets wisdom).
• Praises his wife.
Wild Horses – A Survival Story Part 2
My first reaction was to try fighting my way out of the middle of the horde of horses, but then I thought better. If I stood still, there’d be less of a chance to be accidentally trampled. Within a couple seconds the horses had passed; the dust started settling, and the sound of pounding of their hooves behind me faded as the horses moved on. I turned around and watched as they disappeared over a small hill and into a thicket of trees. An idea began to formulate in my mind – it wasn’t quite grand enough yet for me to take much notice, but it was there none the less.
I started walking, nowhere in particular. I knew that sooner or later I’d need to find some sort of shelter, food, and water. Perhaps by chance, but more likely by providence, I found a stream – small, though it was. I bent down, smelled the water, then scooped some into my mouth. It tasted sweet, unlike any water I had ever tasted before. I glanced around, and noticed a couple purplish-green leaved plants growing close to the spring – they smelled like the water had tasted. I bit the tip off of one of the leaves and slowly chewed it up, savoring the flavor. It was definitely some sort of a mint.
The spring and good plant life confirmed that this was where I needed to make my home – at least, for the time being. I dug a shallow trench, just wide, deep, and long enough to fit my body into. The soil was somewhat sandy, but still somewhat clingy as well – a perfect consistency for digging. With the trench finished, I climbed in and fell into a deep sleep.
