He's My Bart

When I was a horse-crazed teenager, I was given the opportunity to free lease a horse named Bart for a year. I had been a rider for years, and confident in my ability. I could gallop around, jump, handle the occasional buck. I'd ridden dozens of horses, had countless lessons. I thought I was a good rider.

And then I got Bart. He was a stocky, strong, dark bay (brown) quarter horse, stubborn and strong willed. It didn't take long for him to establish who was in charge. He was sweet on the ground, but once I was riding, I couldn't control him very well. We'd be doing great, and then he'd whip around, get the bit in his teeth, and pull my skinny 16 year old self back to the barn. I created lesson plans and exercises, trotted him in circles for hours (until he got bored and pulled me back to the barn), and read articles about how to train a stubborn horse. He'd buck out of no where (as I'm typing this, I'm wondering if his saddle fit right...maybe there was a reason for this nonsense). One particular time, we were out on a trail ride and out of the blue, he bucked me off and into a tree. I have the scar on my chin to prove it, and I'm lucky that was all the injury I had. In the end, I wasn't too sad to see the year end and put his tail on a trailer back to the barn he'd come from.

After that year, I got on a mare- Firelight, a petite chestnut Arabian- that I'd used to ride. She was challenging to me before Bart. And then I rode her after my year with Bart and she was golden. The easiest thing. Where she'd refused jumps before, now she'd glided over them. She hadn't had any extra training in that year- but I had. Bart had made me a strong rider. I had the tools and muscle I needed to communicate. Riding her was awesome.

Graham is my Bart. I told him that recently, and after giggling that Bart rhymes with fart, he enjoyed hearing the story. Of course, there are major differences in the plot line. Parenting is not for a year, and I'd never want to get rid of Graham. I'm not trying to 'conquer' him, like I'd tried to do with Bart. That's not the roll a mother plays. What I mean is that God saw fit to give me a strong-willed, smart, capable first boy and that loving boy has stretched me, grown me, humbled me, and at times brought me to my knees in tears. And how much more dependent on God- and strong in the Lord's strength- am I from this! My greatest sanctification has been motherhood. This strong boy has helped turn me into a stronger woman, just like riding a tough horse made me a better rider. How I thought I'd have a compliant, easy first-born, and how that expectation was shattered. God breaks us down to made us whole, in Him.

We're nearly 6 years in now. The other morning he tiptoed out of bed and came to hug me. "I was extra quiet because Patrick was still sleeping..." he said, and my heart brimmed with love for him and his thoughtfulness. Yes, we do still have many a battle, hard moments, and outbursts. And as I tame my tongue and heart to hold every thought captive to Christ, I'm thankful for that stubborn horse and what he taught me, and this strong boy and who he is becoming in God's grace.

{This is Bart and I...must have been 1999 or 2000?  Hello, you little innocent dove, Megan. You'd better wear a helmet, mmmk? Because that horse is about to throw you into a tree. It'll all work out to make you a stronger person and better mother. Hang tight, you horse geek, you :)}


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