flash - droppdf1.droppdf.com/files/qq02i/flash-rachel-anne-ridge.pdf · flash : the homeless donkey...

Storiesthatteachspirituallessons,delightwithhumor,andmakemeleaninclosertoGod’sheartaremyfavorites!Andthisunlikelytreasureofabookdoesjustthat.YouwillfallinlovewithFlashandthewayRachelAnneprocessestheirstorytogether.

LYSATERKEURST,NewYork

LYSATERKEURST,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofTheBestYesandpresidentofProverbs31Ministries

WhenIfirstheardthatRachelRidgehadwrittenabookaboutherfamily’sdonkey,Flash,Ihadnoideawhattoexpect.Nothingcouldhavepreparedmeforsuchadelightfulexperience!IlovedeverypageofFlash,and

Rachelhassuchagiftforstorytellingthatyoucanabsolutelypictureeachscene.ThisbookmademelaughatFlash’santicsandcryasIidentifiedwiththelessonshehastaughtherfamilyaboutthewayGodlovesusandseesus.ThisbookwillmakeyoufallinlovewithourSavioralloveragainand,

morethanlikely,makeyouhopeyoucanhaveyourownpetdonkeysomeday.

MELANIESHANKLE,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofSparklyGreenEarringsandTheAntelopeintheLivingRoom

Thisbookisadelight;it’sanhonest,funny,andencouragingreminderofthecreative,lovingwaysthat

Godpursuesus,teachesus,andchangesus.Granted,IneverexpectedthatI’dhavesomuchincommonwithadonkey,butFlashhastaughtmemorethanIcouldhaveimagined.You’regoingtolovethisbook,andwhenyoufinishreadingit,you’regoingtowanttofollowFlash’sleadandrunwithhorses.

SOPHIEHUDSON,authorofHomeIs

SOPHIEHUDSON,authorofHomeIsWhereMyPeopleAreandbloggeratBooMama.net

Flashisamarvelous,wonderful,funny,touching,andilluminatingbook.TheauthormakesthegooddonkeyFlashcomealiveonthepages.IagreewithRachelthatGodusesallsortsofthings—fromdogsto

donkeys—toteachusmoreabouthimself,andallwehavetodoispayattention.

JIMKRAUS,bestsellingauthorofTheDogThatTalkedtoGod

Charming,poignant,funny,honest—RachelAnne’sjourneywithFlashthedonkeyispurereadingpleasureasshesharesherfamily’smisadventureswith

theirfour-leggedfriend.Sheopensherhearttousaswell,helpinguslearnmemorablelessonsaboutdoinglifewithmoremeaningandpurpose.Flashisdelightfullydifferent.Ilovedit!

LIZCURTISHIGGS,bestsellingauthorofTheGirl’sStillGotIt

Whatacharming,endearing,numinousbook—anddonkey!Fromthefirstchapter,youwillimmediatelyfallinlovewithRachelAnneRidgeandherbelovedFlash.Bythelastline,youreyeswillbeopenedtoseeingthewaysGodshowsupandrevealsHimselfinthemostunexpected—anddelightful—ways.

LISAWHELCHEL,actressandauthorofTheFactsofLifeandFriendshipforGrown-Ups

IalwaysstandamazedatGod’sinfinitecreativity.WhenRachelandTomRidgefacedafinancialcrisis,Iwouldhavesuggestedafinancialadvisororcareercounselor.Godchosetosendahomelessdonkey.Flash

usedhisconsiderabledonkeycharmtoteachthefamilylessonsaboutservice,faithfulness,purpose,passion,andsecondchances.Youwilllaugh(often)attheanticsofFlash.YouwillbetouchedbytheauthenticityofRachel’swritingandthedepthofthelessonsGod

revealedthroughanabandoneddonkeywithbigearsandabiggerheart.

DAVEBURCHETT,authorofStayandWhenBadChristiansHappentoGoodPeople

Akick-in-the-pantsread!Flashismemoirplusheartwarmingandsometimesstressfulanimalstory,mixedtogetherwithspiritualtruth,

alltemperedwithhumoratjusttherightspots.ThoughIliveinthesuburbs,thismademewanttodisobeymyneighborhood’sbylawsandgetmyselfadonkey!

MARYDEMUTH,authorofTheWallaroundYourHeart

RachelRidgehasabeautifulabilitytotakethecommonthingsoflife(likewords)and

crafttheminsuchawaythattheyflowlikeproseandpoetry.SubmergingyourselfinFlashistobecomelostinabeautifulgalleryofherfinestart.Witheachturnofthepage,themasterstorytellersharesaglimpseofhumor,revelation,andhope.We’dallliketohaveafriendlikeFlash,faithfulandtrue.Irecommendthisbook

toanyonewhohaseverneededatrue-bluefriend,asecondchance,orafreshperspective.

JANGREENWOOD,pastorofGatewayWomen(GatewayChurch)andauthorofWomenatWar

IbelievethatsinceCreation,GodhasusedanimalstoteachusaboutourselvesandaboutourCreator—ifwe’ll

payattention.Rachelpaysattention,andsowillherreadersastheydelightinaquirkyandlovabledonkey,Flash.

DANDIDALEYMACKALL,authorofWinnietheHorseGentler,BackyardHorses,andtheStarlightAnimalRescueseries

Whatintheworldcouldadonkeyteachmeaboutlife?Lots.Why?Becausedonkeysaresimplecreatureswholivesimplelives.Isn’tsimplicityexactlywhatsomanypeopleareseekingtofindamidtheirbusyandhecticexistences?Inthepagesofthisbook,youwillfind—inthelifeofRachelAnneRidgeandinthelifeofhersurprisepetdonkey

—thatsimplicityisbeautiful.CHRYSTALHURST,coauthorofKingdomWoman

Reader,BEWARE!Bytheendofthisbookyouwillbesearchingforadonkeyforyourownpersonalgrowth!Fromnowon,everytimeIseeoneofthesemarvelouscreaturesoutinthefield,IwillthinkofFlash,andIam

sureasmileorgigglewillfollow,forthisburroofburdenisladenwithhumorandwisdom.Rachelhasdignifiedalowlycreaturetothepointthatyouthinkitalmostnecessarytofenceinyouryard,buysomehay,andwaitforthelessonstobegin.

TINAWESSON,Survivor:TheAustralianOutback(SeasonTwo)winner

Ilovedthiswhimsical,vulnerable,andsimplyprofoundbook!Racheltellshowabroken,lost,andstubbornanimalawakenedherawarenessofGod’svoiceinherlife.Herstorygiveshopetoanyonewhohaseverfeltinadequateorunseen.Shetakesthesimpleandmakesitshinetoencouragethereader

tolookwithafreshperspectiveatthepotentialGodputsineachofus.

PAIGEC.GREENE,directorofAdultEvents,LifeWayChristianResources

BravotoRachelRidgeforthisbeautifullywrittenbookthatsoeloquentlyremindsusthatoureverydayhappeningsinlifecanbegreatlessons

andblessingsindisguisefromourMaker—evenintheformofadonkey!TwothingsyouwillwantwhenyouturnthelastpageareadonkeyinyouryardandRachelasoneofyourbesties!

CINDYOWEN,GivenEntertainmentGroup

VisitTyndaleonlineatwww.tyndale.com.

VisitTyndaleMomentumonlineatwww.tyndalemomentum.com.

TYNDALE,TyndaleMomentum,andtheTyndaleMomentumlogoareregisteredtrademarksofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.TyndaleMomentumisanimprintofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.,CarolStream,Illinois.

Flash:TheHomelessDonkeyWhoTaughtMeaboutLife,Faith,andSecondChances

Copyright©2015byRachelAnneRidge.Allrightsreserved.

Dustjacketphotographsofdonkeycopyright©ThomasRidge.Allrightsreserved.

Coverphotographofdaisycopyright©iava777/Dollarphotoclub.Allrightsreserved.

Weatheredwoodtexturescopyright©DanaGarsonDesign.Allrightsreserved.

Unlessotherwisenoted,allotherartworkcopyright©RachelAnneRidge.Allrightsreserved.

DesignedbyStephenVosloo

EditedbyBonneSteffen

PublishedinassociationwiththeliteraryagencyofWilliamK.JensenLiteraryAgency,119BamptonCourt,Eugene,OR97404.

Unlessotherwiseindicated,allScripturequotationsaretakenfromtheHolyBible,NewLivingTranslation,copyright©1996,2004,2007,2013byTyndaleHouse

Foundation.UsedbypermissionofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.,CarolStream,Illinois60188.Allrightsreserved.

ScripturequotationsmarkedNKJVaretakenfromtheNewKingJamesVersion,®copyright©1982byThomasNelson,Inc.Usedbypermission.Allrightsreserved.

ScripturequotationsmarkedTLBaretakenfromTheLivingBible,copyright©1971byTyndaleHouseFoundation.UsedbypermissionofTyndaleHousePublishers,Inc.,CarolStream,Illinois60188.Allrightsreserved.

ScripturequotationsmarkedESVaretakenfromTheHolyBible,EnglishStandardVersion®(ESV®),copyright©2001by

Crossway,apublishingministryofGoodNewsPublishers.Usedbypermission.Allrightsreserved.

Somenamesanddetailshavebeenchangedfortheprivacyoftheindividualsinvolved.

LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData

Ridge,RachelAnne.Flash:thehomelessdonkeywhotaughtmeaboutlife,faith,andsecondchances/RachelAnneRidge.pagescmISBN978-1-4143-9783-2(hc)1.Animals—Religiousaspects—Christianity.2.Human-animalrelationships.3.Donkeys—Miscellanea.I.Flash(Donkey)II.Title.BV4596.A54R532015

242—dc232015000012

ISBN978-1-4964-0666-8(ePub);ISBN978-1-4143-9788-7(Kindle);ISBN978-1-4964-0667-5(Apple)

Build:2015-04-2210:53:03

ForTom,mybestfriend.

AndforLauren,Meghan,andGrayson,

mygreatestgifts.

Contents

Foreword

Prologue

Chapter1:AnUnexpectedGuest

Chapter2:What’sinaName?

Chapter3:TheArcticBlast

Chapter4:FlashRunswithHorses

Chapter5:APastureRomance

Chapter6:SureandSteadyTrails

Chapter7:AMatterofPaternity

Chapter8:WhentheRainStopped

Chapter9:BarnManagement

Chapter10:ChangeComesCalling

Chapter11:Beau

Chapter12:“That’sSomeDonkey”

Chapter13:AnUnlikelyAnswer

LessonsfromFlash

Q&AwithRachelAnneRidge

Acknowledgments

DiscussionQuestions

AbouttheAuthor

Foreword

Goodbooksarelikegoodfriends—difficulttofind.Manycanlookpromisingatthebeginning,onlytodisappointsomewheredowntheline.Evenwhenabookis

recommendedbyapersonyoutrust,youcanneverbesureyou’llexperiencethesameconnection,thatthetwoofyouwillhititoff.

Yetsometimes—oftenforreasonsyoucan’tquiteputafingeron—youchoosetoopenitup,andopenyourselfuptoit.Andeverynowandthen,you’resurprisedand

thankfulatthewarmth,thejoy,theexcitementandpleasureyoudiscoverinside.

I’vehadtheprivilegeoffindingboth—goodbooksandgoodfriends.AndI’mgiddywithjoytointroduceyoutoacoupleofthem.

Rachelcameintomylifeoveradecadeagowithafriendshipsopureandlastingandimpactfulthatithasmade

meabetterperson.Notintheorybutinreal,tangible,practicalways.She’staughtmehowtolookforanddiscovertheprofoundbeautytuckedawayinsimplicity,thelovelydetailsthatsomeoneelsemightmissbecausethey’retoobusyortootiredortooself-absorbedtocare.

TheselittlenuancesoflifeareRachel’streasures.I’vewatchedhertakethemundaneandroutine,thecommonplaceandplain,andsqueezedropsofsurprisinggoodnessandvitalityfromthemuntileveryoneinhersphereissaturatedwithhopeandlove.Sherecreateswhatotherswoulddiscard,turningitintosomethingmemorable

andworthcapturing.From

herperspective,everythingisbuddingwithendlessandimmensepossibility.

Soadecadeagowhenshedroveuptoanunkempt1970sfarmhouse,shesawonlytheblossomingpotentialofacozy,tenderplaceherfamilycouldcallhome.Andsheloveditandcaredforituntilitwas.

Yearslater,whenherseconddaughtermetthemanofherdreams,Racheltransformedaweed-filled,neglectedacreofgroundintoalushcarpetofgreeneryarchedwithluxuriousfoliagetowelcome250guestsandawalkdowntheaisle.

Andthereception.Oh,thereception!Atimeworn,misshapenbarnbecamea

vintageparadisehungwithchandeliersanddainty,twinklingwhitelightsthatseemedtodancetothebeatofthemusic,likefluffsofwhitedandelions,blownloosefromtheirstemsandcarriedawayontheeveningbreeze.

ThisisRachel’sway.Creatinggoodnesswherethereseemstobenonein

sight.AndsowhenFlash

showedup—whenhesaunteredupherquarter-miledriveway,lost,dazed,frightened,andwonderingwherehisnextmealwouldcomefrom—he’djustmoseyedunawareintothewide-openarmsofgrace.IntothearmsofRachelRidge.Theonewhoseesbeauty

everywhereandineverything.Eveninadirty,hungry,unwanted,displaceddonkey.

Hewashome.Rachelandherhusband,

Tom,lookedforFlash’sownerforawhile.Imean,canyoublamethem?Whoneedsadonkeyaroundtobrushandfeedandtakecareof?Butthendaysfoldedinto

weeks,andthoseweeksdisappearedintomonths,andsuddenlyyearshadgoneby—andFlashwasapermanentfixture.Yardart,asshelikestocallhim.Hemorphedfromaprojectintoapet,thenintoapassion,andfinally...intoapresent.

Agift.Firsttoher,andthenfromhertoyou.Andtome.

Andthethingis,Flashisagift.IneverthoughtI’dbethekindofgirlwhocouldwarmuptoadonkey,butFlashstolemyheart,aswellastheheartsofmythreesons,whodecidedhewastheirownpersonalpetfromtheveryfirstday.Hispenchantforfollowingclosebehindthemwithhissoftmuzzlenudgingthebacksoftheir

shoulders,beggingtoberubbedandcaressed,isthehighlightoftheirtimewithhim.Flashkeepshisheadsoclosetotheirsthattheybasicallybump.Theyloveit.Theylovehim.Whenmyboysshowupatthegateandcallhisname,hecomestrottingupenthusiastically.

He’sbeenlookingforthem,waitingforthem.Andthey’vebeenwaitingforhim.

Turnsoutweallwereandjustdidn’tknowit.

BecausewithFlash,thelifelessonsweren’tlongincoming.Rachelwouldtellmeabouthowhewasalwaysabletoescapethroughtheonesolitaryholeinhismile-longfence.Oraboutthe

friendshe’dmadewithcrittersinthenextpastureandhissometimesobstinaterefusaltomoveoneinch,nomatterhowhardanyonetuggedonhishalter.OrhisrelationshipwithBeau,thefamily’sbeautifulyellowLab,andhowtheyfinallymadeniceafteralong-standingfeud.

Witheachnewadventurehascomeanewlesson,anewgemtoenhanceallofourlives.Imagesandinsightsthatcouldeasilygounnoticedbysomeonelessobservantandinterested.ButRachelseesallthesplendorhiddenintheseregularsimplicitiesoflife.Shecapturesdetailsanddigsforbeauty,payingattentionandcausingotherstodothe

same.Which,bytheway,isalso

theessenceofgoodwriting.Andthat’sexactlywhat

youareholdinginyourhands.Rachel’sgood,goodwriting.

We’resogratefultoTomandRachelforturninganinterruptionintoanopportunity,forgivingastraydonkeyanewhomeanda

newname,forlettingFlashintotheirlives.Becauseindoingso,theylethimintoours.

Andnow,Rachel’slettinghimintoyours.

Everylessonyou’llfindtuckedintothesepageswillmakeyoulaugh,justasmuchasitwillmakeyoulearn.Andwhenyouturnthefinalpage,you’llbesurprisedto

discoveryou’vefoundtwothingsinone:agoodbookaboutadonkeynamedFlash,andagoodfriendinasimplecountrygalnamedRachel.

Andyou’llneverlookateitherofthemquitethesameagain.

Flash’sfan,PriscillaShirer

Prologue

Theideahadseemedsosolid.Orattheveryleast,romantic.Myhusband,Tom,andIlaunchedanartandmuralbusinessintheDallas–FortWorthareaduringthe

boomingearly2000s....Whatcouldpossiblygowrong?GatedcommunitiesfilledwithEuropean-styledmansionswerespringingupeverywhereasthegoodeconomictimesrolledin.Aninsatiabledemandforthebestofeverythinginamenitiesanddecorkeptusbookedfor

monthsatatimecreatinginteriormasterpiecesfordiscriminatingclients.

Notbadforacompanythathadstartedasmylittlehobby,paintingupbirdhousesandsellingtheminlocalshops.“DreamBig”wasmyhighlyoriginal,personalmotto.Andithadbeenmydreamtomakeenoughmoneytogetmyhair

highlightedregularlywithoutdippingintothefamilygrocerybudget.Goodgrief,thosehighlightsareexpensive.Thatwasaboutasloftyasmyearlygoalshadbeen.Istayedhomewiththreechildren,desperatelyneedingthiscreativeoutlet,whileTomworkedlonghoursintheelectronicsmanufacturingfield.

Whenthephonebegantoringwithrequestsforbiggerandgranderpaintingprojects,suddenlymyhobbybecamemorethanIcouldhandle.Ineededhelptopullitoff,andmyhusbandwasjustthepersontobringin.Tomlovedcreatingartwithmeonnightsandweekends,lendinghistalentsandmusclepower,sincebynowscaffoldsand

liftingheavysupplieswereinvolved.Asacreativespiritstuckinapreciselycontrolledindustry,hesecretlylongedforawaytoleavethecorporatetreadmillanddosomethingwithhisartistictalents.AndwhenTom’sjobevaporatedinanindustrydownturn,itappearedtobetheperfecttimetolaunchourdreamtogether.

Ithadtobedivineprovidence,right?

Soitwas,indeed,agoodmomenttostartaventurewehadnopriortrainingin.Wewouldwingit.

Wewantedtocreatebeautifulthingsandpaintstuffandmakepeoplehappy.Itwasasimpledream.Anditworked,mostly.Yes,thecyclicalnatureofthehousing

marketchallengedusmorethanweanticipated.Weknewthat“feastandfamine”seasonswereprerequisitesforentrepreneurialtriumph.Butdoingwhatwelovedmadeeachdayanadventure,andwewerethrilledtowakeupandknowweweregoingtomakeartthatpeopleenjoyed.

Wehadourthreekidsandourdogandourdream,andwesaid,“Itisenough.”

Forseveralyears,ourlifewasexactlythat.Enough.Wereveledintheexperience.

Now,cuetheforebodingmusicandentertheburstofthehousingbubble.Therevelingturnedintoreeling.

It’sanoddthingwhensuccessturnstofailure.Lifelooksawholelotdifferentwhenyourmindisconstantlyconcernedwithquestionslikehowwillyoupayyourbills,howwillyouaffordorthodontiaforthekids,andhowwillyoumakericeandbeansremotelyappealinguntilthenextpaycheckarrives.And,really,would

livinginatentbesobad?Youforgettonoticetheskyandthecloudsandthewaythesunlightsparklesonyourdaughter’sredhair,andyoustartnoticingthateveryothercarisashinynewBMWandhowcrowdedthefancyrestaurantsare.Atfirst,youcannotbelieveyourfriendsaretakingcarefreefamilyvacationstoCancun,but

there’stheproof—picturesofthemonFacebook,enjoyingtheirprosperity.Youforgettowalkthedog,althoughitwoulddoyouaworldofgoodtogetsomeexercise,andyoueatfastfoodbecauseit’seasyandbecauseslicinguphealthyvegetablesseemssocomplicated.Youeliminatefrivolityandspontaneity,notbecauseyou

don’thavetimeforthembutbecausethoseareluxuriesrichpeopleenjoy,andyouknowthat“gettingawayforaweekend”mightmeanyoucan’taffordsuppliesforyournextproject.

Mostly,youwonderwhyGodhasletyoudown,whenallyouwantedtodowasthatthingyouthoughtyouwerecreatedtodo.Youfeelcracks

forminginplaceswithinyoursoulthatonceseemedunshakable.Youraiseyourquestionstothesky,butyourprayersplummet,seeminglyunansweredandignored.

Youfeelveryalone.Failurewearslikeawet

woolcoatonasummerday,crushingyourfrillypartydressofoptimismunderneathitsweight.Survivaland

existenceandgoingthroughthemotionsfeellikethebestyoucando,andsometimesthat’sallyoucando.Yougotowork,youputfoodonthetable,youhelpwithhomework,yousmileandcheeratyourkid’shockeygame,youreachforahandundertheblanketsatnight,andyougraspateverysweetmomentyoucan.Butbeneath

thebusynessandactivity,youknowthatsomethingmustchange—oryouwillnotsurvive.

ThisisexactlywhereIfoundmyselfthenightthedonkeyshowedup.

Tomhitthebrakesandbroughtourten-year-oldExplorertoanabruptstoponthegravel.Thedustfromthetiresblewpastusandswirledaroundtheanimalinourheadlights,muchlikesmokeinastageshow.

Itwasadonkey.Inthemiddleofourdriveway.

“Whatintheworld?”myhusbandmutteredaswepeeredthroughthewindshieldatthecreaturewithgiganticears,caughtmidchewandlookingeverybitassurprisedaswedid.Justtwentyfeetinfrontofourbumper,heblinkedhardintothebrightbeams,grassprotrudingfrombothsidesofhismouthandthose

unmistakableearsprickedforward.Westaredathimasheswallowedhismouthfulandstaredbackatus.Thentheearsswiveledaround,andhedidanabout-face,headingfortheshadows.

IturnedtoTom,mynylonjacketrustlingagainsttheseatbelt.

“Hey,that’sa...that’sa...”

“Donkey,”hefinishedforme.Isqueezedmyeyesshut,thenopenedthemquickly,justtobesure.Yep,stillthere.Stilladonkey.“Whatonearthisadonkeydoinghere?”

Tomleanedforwardandsquintedthroughthedarknessatthelumpyshape,whichnowfeastedonaclumpofearlyspringgrassbeyondthe

headlights.Tomrubbedhischin,assessingthesituation.Heputthevehiclein“Park”andreachedaconclusionbeforeIcouldsayanythingelse.

“Somebodyisgoingtorunintothatguyifwedon’tcatchhim,”hesaid,almosttootiredtogetthewordsout.Thenarrow,meanderinglanesthroughtheTexas

countryside,ashadowyMarchnight,speedinglocals,andadonkeyontheloose...itwasanaccidentwaitingtohappen.Andneitheranaccidentnoradonkeyroundupwasonthelistofthingswewantedtodealwithattheendofalong,hardday.

“Justlethimbe,”Ireasoned.“I’msuresomeoneisoutlookingforhim,and

they’llfindhimandtakehimhome.”Iwatchedasthestraydonkeyplungedhisheadintoanotherclump,toreoffthegrass,andmunchedaway.Aneighbor’sfloodlightnowilluminatedhim,andIcouldseehewasscratchedupprettybadly.Maybehe’dalreadybeeninanaccident.Heprobablydidneedourhelp,butstill...allIcould

thinkaboutwastakingawarmshowerandcrawlingintomypajamas.Itwaswellpast9:00p.m.,andwehadn’tseenourkidssincebreakfast.Wewereexhaustedandreadytoputthisawfuldaybehindus.

Ithoughtbacktothatmorning.Itbeganwiththediscoveryofourclient’sgirdleandbrassiere,heaped

inapileonherbathroomfloor.Yes,let’sstartthere.Thesturdyshapewearwasanawkwardobstaclerightinthemiddleoftheroom,hamperingour“glamorous”handiworkaswedecoratedthecrampedspacewithanItaliancountrysidesceneandbecameintimatefriendswiththetoiletintheprocessofworkingaroundit.Tom

finallyusedapaintsticktoscoopuptheundergarments,holdingthematarm’slengthandlookingawayoutofgentlemanlyrespectasheplacedthemonthetubledgesohecouldcontinuethecommodemasterpiece.Goodgrief,it’shotinhere.Whyisthethermostatsetsohigh?Andwhydoesunderwearneedsomuchstructure?

Thedayendedundertheceilingdomeofthehome’sfoyer,balancingonextensionladdersandsweatingprofuselywhilewepliedourbrushes,adding“justafewmoredetails”requestedbytheclientatthelastminutetoapaintingwe’dalreadyfinished—wellbeyondthescopeofouragreement.Somewhereinbetweenthese

twoeventscamethehorrifyingrealizationthatthismuralprojectwouldnotpaytherent.

Wewerelivingourdream.Onlyithadbecomeanightmare.

TomandIbarelyspoketooneanotherasweloadedupourladdersandartistsuppliestoheadhome.Ourkids,thetwowhoremainedunderour

roof,hadeatencerealfordinnerwithoutusandwerehopefullydoingsomethingconstructivewithoutsupervision.Ihadsomereassurancethathomeworkwasunderwayaftermakingseveralcallsfrommyprecariousperchinthefoyer,carefullyinchingthecellphonefrommyrightpockettomyleftearwithout

disturbingmybalance.Likeeveryworkingparent,Iwouldn’tknowforsureuntilIgothomeandsawproof.

Grayson,ourtwelve-year-oldson,couldbeeasilydistractedbyanelaborateLegoprojectormodelairplane,twoofhiscurrentpassionsbesidesicehockey.Meghan,aseniorinhighschool,mighthavespentthe

wholeeveningonthephone,orwritingmusicforherband,orpickingouttomorrow’soutfit.Ouroldestdaughter,Lauren,wasinthemiddleofherfirstyearatanearbyuniversity,studyinggraphicdesignandplanningaweddingwithherhighschoolsweetheart.Betweenthekids’activitiesandourworkload,

lifespunlikeawobblytopmostdays.Icouldn’thelpthesighthatescapedmylips.

IpressedmyforeheadagainstthecoldpassengerwindowintheExplorerandletfatiguewashoverme.Thiswasn’texactlyhowI’denvisionedourfollowing-the-dreamadventureplayingout.Wehadcometotheparttheydon’ttellyouaboutinthe

motivationalbooksandseminars—thepartabouthowinthemidstoflivingoutyourpassionandgoingforallthemarbles,youstillneedtoeatandpaytherent.Lifehasawayofkickingyourdreaminthepants.Addtotheequationorthodontiaforthekidsandcomingupwithcollege

tuition,andyou’vegotsomethingcalledapainfulrealitycheck.

Drivingthepotholedroads,TomandIhadretreatedintoourseparateworldsofsilentdefeatandmutualblame.Webothneededwarmshowersandagoodnight’ssleepsowecouldfaceoursituationwithsomeobjectivityinthe

morning.ButasweturnedtheFordontoourdirt-and-graveldrivewayforthefinal,dustyquartermiletoourhome,there,illuminatedbytheheadlights,wasthedonkey.

Wewatchedhimafewminutesmore;thenTomturnedofftheengineandopenedthedoor.“Thiswon’ttakelong,Rachel,”hesaid

overhisshoulder.“Stayrightthereandkeepaneyeonhim,andI’llberightbackwitharopetocatchhim.We’llputhiminourpasturetonightandfindhisownerstomorrow.Idon’twanttoberesponsibleforanyonegettinghurtbyrunningintohimwithacar.”

Obediently,Isatandwatchedthedonkeycontinuehisvoraciousfeastonthe

roadsidegrass.Whatapointlessanimal,Ithought,but,kindofcute.Aspromised,Tomquicklyreturnedwithanylonrope—andabucket.Thedonkey,thoughsuspiciousofthishumanstranger,immediatelybecameinterestedinthecontentsofthecontainerthat

Tomshookeversoalluringly,andhesteppedclosertoinspectit.Oats!

Itwasthenwemadetheoverconfidentassumptionthat“thisisgonnabeeasy.”

Aclassicrookiemistake.Hey,gettingastray

donkeyinterestedinoatsissimple.Gettinghimropedandconvincinghimtofollowis...notsomuch.Tom,a

toughoutdoorsmanwithasoftspotforanythinginneed,seemedtobeupforthetaskinspiteofthelongdayofworkhe’dhad.Cautiously,heclosedinonthenervousdonkeyandgentlyloopedtheropeoverhisgiganticheadandaroundhisneck.Inacalmvoice,Tomurgedhimtocooperateandflasheda

prematurethumbs-upatthefirsttentativesteps.See,itwasgoingtobeeasyafterall!

“Yay!”Imimed,withadramatichappyfaceandmyownthumbs-upinreply.Ibelievedthedimmoonlightcalledforsomeoveractingtoproperlyconveymyencouragement.Suddenly,thesmallhoovesstoppedand

dugin.Thelittleguyleanedbackandrefusedtotakeanotherstep.

Tomcoaxedandgaveagentletugontherope.Thedonkeybalked.

Tomgavehimnibblesofoats.Hetooktwostepsforward...yes!Thenfivestepstotheside...no!Tompulled.Thedonkeypulled

harderintheoppositedirection.Clearly,thiswasnotworkingaswehadhoped.

Tomcalledmefromthesidelinesintoactiveduty.Hegavemetheropeandwentbehindthedonkey.Withadeepbreath,Tompushed.Ipulled.

Nothing.

Tomputhisshoulderintotheanimal’srump,bracedhisfeet,andpushedwithhislegs,whileIpulledevenharder.

Notaninch.Wedroppedourhandstooursidesandbegantostrategize.

Tomhadabrilliantidea.“Let’sswitchplaces,”hesuggested,butIwasnotsosure.

“He’dbetternothavegas!”Imovedtotherearandplantedmytennisshoesasfarawayaspossibletostayclearofanykicksandpossibleflatulence,whileTomtookholdoftheropeatthedonkey’shead.Stillnoprogress.Theanimalwouldnotbudge.Hesimplylookedatusthroughheavy-liddedeyesasiftosay,“Goahead,

keeptrying.Thisisentertaining.”Hechewedontheoatslikehehadallthetimeintheworld.

Toourexasperation,allthecoaxing,leading,pulling,enticing,anddemandingresultedinthedonkeyonlygettingfartherfromourpasturegatethanwherewehadstarted.

Bynow,thewindhadpickedup,andthebranchesonthetreesswayedinaneeriedancethatspookedthelong-earedintruder.Heboltedintoanearbyyard,pullingTomintoarunalongsidehim,mypoorhusbandhangingontotheropefordearlife.Abathrobe-cladneighborcameouttoseetheruckus,andsheandI

stoodwithourbackstothewindasthecat-and-mousegamecontinueditsspectacle.Threestepsforward,twostepsback.Onestepforward,threestepstotheside.Cajoling,pushing,pleading,chasing.Mercy,itwashardnottolaugh.ButwhenIsawTomripthebaseballcapoffhisheadandthrowitinfrustration,Istifledmy

snicker.Hissmallactofkindnesshadbecomeasheerbattleofthewills.This.Was.War.Respectfully,IgotbackintotheparkedExplorer,pulledagranolabarfrommypurse,andsettledinfortherestoftheshow.

Iwatchedastheyslowlymadetheirwaydowntheblacktoproadandbacktowardourlongdriveway.A

yardlampbacklittheirbodiesintoblacksilhouettes,anditwasthenthatIlaughedoutloud.TherewasTom’sdarkshape,straininghardontheropeuntilhisbodypracticallyparalleledtheground.Andtherestretchedthedonkey’sdarkshape,frontlegslocked,neckdrawnforward,andbackendsittingdownindefiance.Itlookedjustlike

anoldvelvetpaintingI’donceseenofasilhouettedboyandstubborndonkeyinthesamepose.HowIwishedIhadboughtthatclassicpaintingforthisverymomentintime.

FinallyTomfoundarhythmthedonkeycouldcooperatewith,andthetwomoveddownthedriveway,whichwentacrossapond’s

damandthroughatunnelofswayingtrees.Withonearmaroundhisopponent’sneckwhiletalkingquietlyintooneofthosebigears,Tomleanedintotheanimalandknockedonekneeoutfromunderhim.Asthedonkeytriedtocatchhisbalance,Tomtookadvantageoftheforwardmovementandpulledhimanextracoupleofsteps.Byfits

andstarts,theduoarrivedatthepasture,andTomclosedthegateontheskinny-rumpedcreature—threehourslater.

“Done!”hesaid.“Ican’twaittogetridofhimtomorrow.Thatwasoneoftheworstexperiencesofmylife!We’llcallthecountysherifffirstthinginthemorning.”

Bythelightofday,TomandI,alongwithMeghanandGrayson,gatheredinthepasturetotakeagoodlookatourunwillingguest.

Hewasamess.Mudandscabscakedhis

shaggywinterhairintoanugly,mattedcoat.Freshgashesfrombarbedwire

fencesseemedtobeeverywhere,fromheadtohoof,oozingandbleeding.Thescratchescrisscrossedhisfaceandlegs,withafour-inchslicethatwentdeepintothefleshofhisbarrelchest.Thewoundsneededimmediateattention,sowecleanedanddressedthemwithointmentasthedonkeytrembledinsideourthree-

sidedbarn.Althoughitseemedasifheknewoureffortsweremeanttohelphim,heallowedonlybrieftouchesbeforeskittishlymovingjustbeyondourreach.Hislipsquivered,andhistailswishednervously.Wemovedinslowmotion,usinghushedvoicesasweworked.

“It’sokay,donkey.You’reokay,”wereassuredhim.Whatelsehadheexperiencedbeforehissuddenarrivalhere?Wewonderedaloudabouthispast.

Underthemud,hewasalightbrownish-graycolor,withawhitemuzzlethatlookedasifithadbeendippedinadeepbucketof

buttermilk.Amatchingcreamy-whitecolorcircledhisbigbrowneyesandcoveredtheundersideofhisbellywithsofthair.Withfaintstripesadorningsturdylegs,hestoodnotallerthanfourfeetattheshoulder.Howcanananimalthiscompactbesodifficulttomanage?Thedaylightmadehimseemso...well,compliant.

Awispymanetrickleddownabroadneck,andhistail,unlikeahorse’s,wasastrongshaftofmuscleandbonewithlongstrandsofcoarsehairstartingpartwaydown.Along,darkstripedownthecenterofhisbackbeganathismaneanddisappearedintohistail.Upclose,hisearswereevenbiggerthanI’dremembered

fromthenightbefore.Thickandmobile,theywereneverpointingthesamedirectionforverylong.Thecaramel-coloredfuzzthatcoveredthemwasoutlinedbydarkhairaroundtheedgesandtuftedwithcreamontheinsides.Hisstraightblackeyelashesmadehiseyesseemalittlesad,ormaybeitwas

justthewayhislargeheaddroopedthatgavehimsuchamelancholyair.

“Ohlook!”Graysonpointedoutindelightfromhisperchonthefence.“Hehasacrossonhisback!”Achocolate-brownpatternofhairemblazonedacrosshisshouldersdistinctlyintersectedthedarkstripedownhisback.Legendhasit

thateverydonkeybearsthesymbolofChrist,inhonorofHistriumphantentryintoJerusalembeforeHiscrucifixion.Seeingadonkeyface-to-faceforthefirsttimecertainlybroughtthebiblicalstorytomind.Oureyeslingeredonthismarkingandthenwanderedtohismanywounds.Hewas,aswesayinTexas,“toreup.”

TomputhisarmacrossGrayson’sshouldersaswemadeourwaythroughthetallgrassbacktothehouse,whileMeghanstayedtokeepthedonkeycompany.Acreatureloversinceshewasatoddler,Meghanonceclaimedtheabilitytotalktoanimals.Althoughthisonewasmuchlargerthanthehamstersandparakeetsshe’d

communicatedwithbefore,hestilllookedasifheneededafriend.

Shesatonawoodenstepinthebarnneartheshydonkey,chininhand,andlistenedtothebirdssingintheraftersasshewatchedhim.Withwaryeyesonher,thedonkeykepthisdistancebutlingeredinthebarn,ratherthanmakingforthe

pasturebeyond.Aftersomeminuteshadtickedby,hetookonehesitantsteptowardtheslim,redheadedgirl,thenpausedasifthinking.

Thenanotherstep.Alittlecloser.

Aflybuzzed.“It’sokay,buddy,”

Meghanmurmured.Sheturnedapalmupinsilentbeckoning.

Andanotherstep.Alongminute.Ears

twitching.Blowinghard.Thechirpingbirdsoblivioustotheslowdancebelow.

“Iwon’thurtyou.”Closer.“You’resafenow.”Alittlecloserstill...

untilhistentativenostrilstouchedherknees.

“It’sallright.”

Hesniffedherscentandpausedagain.Hislongearsturnedforward.Tailswishedthefly.Finally,heclosedhiseyesandtookonelaststep,restinghisgiantheadinherlapwithadeepdonkeysigh.Meghan’shandcameupandgentlystrokedhisfaceandears.Shescratchedhisneckandwhisperedsoftlytohim.Hislowerlipsaggedsleepily

asherelaxedforthefirsttimesincehisarrival.Thedonkeyandgirlstayedjustsoforalongwhile,hisheadheavyonherlegsasshecaressedhimandgentlyuntangledhisscragglymane.

IwasinthekitchenwhenMeghancameburstingthroughthedoor.“OhMomma!He’ssweet!”sheexclaimedasshedescribed

thequietmomentsinthebarn.Shefinishedwithabreathless,“Canwekeephim,pleeze??”

Dryingmyhandsonatowel,Ilookedatherpleadingexpression.Ishouldhaveknownthiswascoming.Herewego.Don’tyoustartbeggingforadonkey.Sweetornot,weknewhehadtobelongtosomeone.Surely.I

mean,howcanapersonmisplaceadonkey,forheaven’ssake?Hisownersmustbelookingforhim.

“Meggie,youcan’tletyourselfgetattachedtohim.Youknowhe’snotgoingtobeherelong.”Ismoothedthedisappointmentfromherforeheadandcontinued.“He’sgoingtobeonhiswayjustassoonaswefindout

wherehebelongs,andIdon’twantyoutogetyourheartbrokenwhenheleaves.”

“Butwhatifnobodyclaimshim?”sheappealed.“Thencanwekeephim?”

“Honey,Idon’tthinkweare‘donkeypeople.’Wedon’tknowthefirstthingaboutthem.Wecertainlydon’thaveanyuseforone.Andbesides,Ithinkyou’re

gettingaheadofyourself.Weneedtodowhatwecantofindhishomebeforewestartmakinganyplans.”Butinmymind,I’dalreadybeenwonderingthesamething.

Justthen,weheardnoisefromoutside,nearthepasturegate.WehurriedtoseewhatthefusswasaboutandfoundouryellowLab,Beau,wagginghisentirebodyashe

barkedandwhinedinexcitement.Anewfriend!Hecouldhardlycontainhisjoy.Thedonkey,whohadleftthebarnandventuredtowardthehouse,lookedupinsurprise.

“Beauisanxioustosayhello,”GraysonsaidashecamefromaroundthecornerandattemptedtograbBeau’scollartocalmhim.Buttheone-hundred-pounddoghad

alreadysqueezedhisslobberyselfunderthegateandlopedacrosstheopenspacetowherethedonkeystood,frozeninalarm.Beau’sheftytailworkedfromsidetosideasheapproachedthedonkeywithshamelesscuriosityandwigglywelcome.

Forasplitsecondthedonkeyheldstill,takinghimin.Then,likeaboltof

lightning,hewhirledaroundandstruckoutwithhisbacklefthoof.Yelpinginshock,Beaucametoanabruptskidonhishaunches.Thedonkeyturnedandloweredhishead,breathingheavily,whileBeaubackedupandletoutawhimper.Thetwolockedeyesastheycircledoneanother.Donkey:earsflat,headlow,nostrilsflared.

Dog:earsforward,hairraised,nosetwitching.ThehoofhadmissedBeau’schest,butthemessageitdeliveredwasclear:Stayaway.Rebuffed,thedogfinallyreturnedtothegate,lookingoverhisshoulderwithhistailtuckedandeyesfilledwithconfusion.Poor

Beau.He’dneverbeenrejectedsosoundlyinhiswholelife!

“Beauneedstolearntoslowdownalittle,”Isaidaswehuddledoverthedogtocomforthim.Ilookedbacktoseethedonkey,stillbreathinghardandagitated.“Hescaredthepoorguyhalftodeathwithallthatenergy!”Toomuch,toosoon.

Thatweek,wewentintoaction.Wepostedsigns,contactedauthorities,andcheckedwithlocalfeedstores.Welookedforthedonkey’sownerhighandlow.Butnooneseemedtobemissingadonkey.Itwaslike

heappearedoutofthinair.Ontoourproperty.Likearabbitoutofahat.

Whenthecountysheriffstoppedbyourhouse,welearnedthatoursituationwasfarfromunique:Peoplesimplyabandonedtheirdonkeysalongcountryroadswhentheytiredofcaringforthem,giventhattheanimalshavelifespansofthirtyor

fortyyears.Droughtsalwaysbringhighnumbersofstrays,andwewereinthemiddleofabadone.Manypeoplecan’taffordtokeepthesecute-but-grass-consuminganimalswhocompeteforgrazinglandwithcattle,sotheydumpthemoff.Withoutsomuchasasecondthought.

“Yep,noveltywearsoffrealquick,”thesheriffsaidinhisTexasdrawl.“Yaseealottasadcasesouthere.”Headjustedhiswide-brimmedhatandlookedatthedonkey.“Now,thisfellahereisyoung.He’snotevenamaturemale,ifyouknowwhatImean.”Heclearedhisthroataswedigestedthemeaningof“maturemale”

andglancedunderneathhis

thinbellytoseewhatthesheriffwastalkingabout.Aah,yes.

Thelawman’sthickmustachetwitchedashecontinued.“It’sprettytypicaltoseemalesletlooselikethis.Youdon’tseethefemalesasoftenbecausethey’rebetteratkeepingcoyotesawayfromcattleandgoats,butthesejacks...

well,Ican’tevengetfivedollarsfor’ematauction.Nobodywants’em.Basically,they’reworthlessanimals.”

“Butwhathappenstothemifnoonetakesthemfromyourauction?”Iasked,notwantingtoknowtheanswer.

Hepausedforamoment.“Wetrytofindarescueorganizationthatwilltake

’em.Therearesomereputableonesaround,andtheydoagoodjobtakingtheseguysoffourhands.Problemis,rightnow,they’refilledupovertheircapacity,andit’stoughtoplacethesenewstrays.Yahatetothinkwhatcouldhappen,buttherealityisthestatecan’taffordtokeepfeeding’emindefinitely.”

Thedonkey’searstwitchedtowardus,asifeavesdroppingonthediscussionofhisfate.

Horrifiedthathemighthaveoverheard,IlookedatTomforsupportandsuggested,“Howaboutifwejustkeephimhereuntilhisownerscontactyouroffice?”Tomnoddedinagreement,andthesheriffbeamed.

“Soundsgood.Realgood.Now,I’vegotthreeotherjacksinmycustody...”Hetrailedoff,bushyeyebrowsraisedinanunspokenquestion.

Tomhurriedlythankedhimforhistimeandsaidwe’dlookforwardtohiscall.Wepartedwaysbeforethiswholerescuethinggotevenmoreoutofhand.

Theweeksstretchedon,andLauren,ouroldestredhead,camehomefromcollegetofinishplanningherweddingtoRobert.Itwasjustacoupleofmonthsaway,andwehadsomeworktodoinordertopullitoff.Withthefiveofusalltogether,wefeltlikeacompletecircleonceagain,a

littlefamilystayingafloatonaswiftriverofpaintingprojectsanddressfittings.Somehowwelimpedthroughthefinancialdisasterthathadloomedthenightthedonkeyshowedup,andweweremanagingtobarter,trade,and“doityourself”throughtheweddingdetails.Ourproblemswerefarfrom

solved,butwedidourbesttopretendtheydidn’texist.Atleastfornow.

Awarmstillnesshungintheairaswegatheredatthefencetolookatthiswounded,andapparentlyworthless,straywhohadgivenrescuesuchafight.Hissoreshadnotyethealed,buthelookedremarkablygoodinspiteofthetwopermanentscars

acrosshisnose.Alreadyhisthinstomachwasfillingout,andhispatchyhair,withoutalltheburrsandscabs,feltsoftunderourtouch.

Therehadbeennoresponsewhatsoevertooursearchforhisowner,andweknewadecisionneededtobemade.Wecouldturnhimovertothecountyandsomeunknownfuture,orwecould

provideahomeforhim,atleastfornow.Obviously,thethreekidsandIwouldlaunchanall-outcampaigntokeephim.

“Lookathimoutthere.Heisprettysweet,”wepointedout.Henibbleddaintilyonthegreenbladesofgrassandswattedflies

withthatfunnytailofhis.Heseemed...perfectlyinnocuous.Charming,even.

Tomwashavingnoneofthis“permanence”thing,anditseemedhehadBeauonhisside.“I’veseenthedarksideofhim,”herebutted,rememberingthatfirstnight.“He’simpossibletohandle,andhe’sstubbornandobviouslynotverybright.

AndBeauhateshim—don’tyou,Beau?”Atthat,thedonkeylookedupandgaveasnort.Heshookhislongearssotheyflappedtogetherinakindofear-clapasifhewerereplying,“Hey,now!Iheardthat.”

Beaubarkedinreturn.Hedidn’texactlyhatethedonkeyaftertheirfirstencounter.However,the

donkeyseemedtohatehim.Theyweren’tanyclosertofriendship,andinfact,theyappearedtobeinananimalstandoff.ButIhadfaith.Afterall,noonecanhateagoodyellowLab.Andwhocouldresistsuchanadorabledonkey?Iwassuretheyjustneededtimetobond.PerhapsBeaucouldlearntobelessextroverted,givingthe

donkeyachancetoseebeyondtheteethandtailtothewarmheartthatwasjustabitovereager.Theirrelationshipwouldtakesomework.

Thekidspickedupthelobbying.“Dad,weGoogled‘donkeycare’andfoundoutthatdonkeysareprettylowmaintenance.Theydon’tneedexpensivefood,they

don’trequireextraspecialcare,andalltheyreallyneedisshelterinbadweather.Whichwealreadyhave.”Theypointedtothebarn,unusedexceptforstorage.

“Yeah,well,I’mprettysureit’snotassimpleasthat.Itneveris.Ithinkalittlemoreresearchisinorder,guys.Wejustdon’tneedanothermouthtofeed,”Tom

volleyed,mindfulofourprecariousbankbalance.“Thinkofthevetbillsandhay.Imean,lookathimoutthere.He’sapig.He’sgoingtorequirealotoffoodattheratehe’sgoing.”Thenhepulledoutthereasoningeveryparentgivestoeverychildatsomepointintheirlives:“Youkidscan’tremembertofeedthedog,

muchlessadonkey,sodon’texpectmetotakecareofhimforyou.We’renotkeepinghim,period.”

Tomdidhaveapointaboutnotrememberingtofeedthedog;theycouldn’targuethat.Butofcoursetheyinsistedthatthiswouldbecompletelydifferent.Despitehistoughtalk,I’dseenTomouttheretryingtobefriend

thescruffydonkeywhenhethoughtnoonewaslooking.Dayafterday,hesatonacampchairinthemiddleofthepastureforlongperiodsoftime.Hebroughtabooktoread,orwatchedthebirds,orlookedatsomeimaginarypointinthedistance,inhopesthatthedonkeywouldsimplybecomecomfortableinhispresence.ItwasasifTom

instinctivelyknew(unlikeBeau)toleavethepaceoftrustuptothedonkey.

Atfirst,thedonkeyhadgiventhemaninthechairawideberth,grazinginaperimeterfarbeyondhisreach.HeshiedbackfromanysuddenmovementofTom’sarms.Everynowand

thenhe’dlookoveratTom,allthewhilechewing,takinghimin,assessing.

Hadthedonkeybeenmistreatedatthehandsofamaninpreviousencounters?Ifonlyhecouldtellus.Icouldseethatthedonkey’sresistancetoourrescuehadbeenrootedinsomekindof

fear,anditbrokemyhearttothinkthatsomeonecouldhurtsuchasweetanimal.

Gradually,thedonkey’sself-designatedperimeteraroundTom’schairgrewsmaller.Heinchednearer.Andoneafternoon,asTomreadhisbook,heheardthegrassrustlebehindhim.He

feltanoseonhisshoulder.Asniffonhisneck.Lipsgentlynibblinghiscollar.

“Hey,DonkeyBoy.”Tom’svoicewassoft,calm.“That’sagoodboy.That’sagoodboy.”

Heslowlyliftedhishandandcuppedthedonkey’shead.Thewallbegantocrumble.

Braveenoughnowtocomenearforacarrotandgentlepetting,hestillseemedsovulnerable.Andwasitme,ordidhissoftbrowneyesseemslightlyhopeful?PerhapsIwasprojecting.

“Whatdotheneighborsthinkabouthisbraying?”Laurenasked,breakingatwigoffthetreebythefence.“Iactuallyheardhimfromway

downtheroadtheotherday!Soundedlikesomeonewasbeingkilledoverhere.”

Rightoncue,thedonkeyliftedhisheadandbeganheavinghissides.Hislipspulledbacktorevealabigsetofteethasafoghorn-likesoundexplodedfromhismouth.HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw,haw,haw.Isupposeitcouldbedisturbing

ifyouweren’tusedtoit,butintruth,IlovedhearinghisbraybecauseitremindedmeofgrowingupinMexicoasamissionarykid.We’dlivedthereoffandonduringmygrowing-upyears.Burroswereeverywhere,carryingloadsofsticks,pullingcarts,andposingintheircolorful,fringedhalterswithtourists.Ithoughttheyweresuch

beautifulcreatures,andI’dtrytoimitatetheirbraysaswedrovepast,stickingmyheadoutthecarwindowandlettingoutaHEE-haw!inwhatIthoughtwasafriendlyoverture.Notoneofthemeverseemedremotelyimpressed,butthatdidn’tkeepmefromtrying.

Asthedonkey’sbraysubsided,weconsideredtheprosandconsofkeepinghim.

“Weprobablywouldn’tridehim,likewewouldarealhorse,wouldwe?”askedGrayson.

“Iguessyoucould,butitseemslikeitwouldbeareallyslowride,”Tom

replied.“Plus,we’dhavetotrainhim,andwedon’tknowanythingaboutthat.”

True,true.Nodsallaround.

“Whatifweputhimtoworkaroundhere?”Meghanoffered.“Wecouldplantabiggarden,andhecouldpullaplow.”

Wethoughtaboutthatforaminute.

“Nah.Thatwouldneverhappen.”

“Toobadwedon’thaveamine,”Ilaughed.“Hecouldhaulwagonloadsofgold,andwecouldallberich.”

Ourchucklessubsided,andIcouldseethatTomwasjustonegoodreasonawayfromlettinghimstay.Think,family,think.

“Well,he’sfuntolookat,”saidGrayson,glancingupathisdad.

“Yes!Yes,heis!”wechimedin.“Veryfuntolookat!Andnicetotalkabout!”

“Youmeanhe’saconversationpiece?”Tom’svoicehadsoftenedwithhissmileatthethought.

“Yeah,likewhatifwehadsomeweirdrelativesfromthecityover,andwedidn’thaveanythingtotalkabout?Wecouldalwaysjustbringthemoutheretoseethedonkey,andthey’dprobablyloveit.”Graysonwasmakingasolidcasehere.Justneededonefinalpush...

“Ibetwecouldgettenminutesofconversationoutofit,”Laurensaidinsupport.“Possiblyfifteen.Peoplewouldfindhimreallyinteresting.”FourpairsofeyesturnedtowardTomwithlaser-likefocus.

“Ah,excellentpoint.Iguessyoucouldsayhemakesgoodyardart,”Tomconcededasheopenedthe

gateandsteppedclosetothedonkey.Stillmovingslowlyaroundhim,Tomreachedforwardtorubtheinsidesofhisears.IfeltinmypocketforthecarrotslicethatI’dbroughtfromthekitchen.

“Listen,youguys.”Hetookabreath.“Wecankeephimif...”

Thecheersfromthegroupnearlydrownedtheprovisionaladdendumhewasabouttotackon.

“Ahem!”Tomregainedourattentionbyquashingourcongratulatorynoisewithhishandmotions.“AsIwassaying,wecankeephim...ifheisindeedaslowmaintenanceasyousayhewillbe,ifhedoesnoteattoo

much,andifheisanupstandingcitizenaroundhere.”

Simple!Pieceofcake!We’vegotthis!Wewentbacktocheering,andnaturally,ourexuberancespookedthedonkeyinquestion.Withatossofhishead,andhindlegsbucking,hespunaroundandtrottedforthefarcornerofthepasture,

butnotbeforesnatchingthecarrotfrommyhandinagreedychomp.

Beaubarkedhisoppositiontothearrangement,possiblythelastvoiceofreason.

SomethingtoldmethiswasnotgoingtobeassimpleasIthought.

Thedonkey’stemporarycitizenshipgavebothTomandmeamentalreprievefromourworries.Andithelpedmeavoidthefeelingofdefeatthathadsettledinmystomach,likeawadofcookiedough,whichisalwaysahugemistaketoeatinthefirstplace.Watchingournewresidentbecomefamiliarwithhishome,and

learntotrustusintheprocess,providedareliefvalve,nottomentionafavoritetopicofdinnerconversation.

“Hey,haveyounoticedhowthedonkeycanreachalmosteverypartofhisbodywithhisteeth,toscratchwhereverheitches?Passthebutter,please.”

“Iknow!Isawhimreachunderneathhistailtoday.Hebentcompletelyinhalf,backward,flippeduphistail,andstartedscratchingit!Rolls,anyone?”

“Seriously,Ithinkheisdouble-jointedorsomething.Morespaghetti,thankyou.”

Wequicklylearnedtowatchhisvelvetyears,whichmovedconstantly.Pricked

forwardshowedhisinterestandinquisitivenature.Facingbackwardmeanthewasafraid,uncertain,displeased.Oneforwardandoneback...well,itcalledforinterpretation,especiallywhenaccompaniedbyahoofstomportailswish.Hisearswereakeypartofhis

communication—asilentformofexpressionthatdelightedus.

Webegantoeducateourselvesaboutdonkeycare:whatkindofdietwasbest,howtogroomhim,howtocareforhishooves,whichvaccineshe’dneed.Ourpasture,labeled“unimproved”bythecounty,wasperfectforthisanimal

whowasmadeforariddesertlife.Thetoughnativegrassesinoursix-acrepasture,bakedbytheTexassunandblownbyincessantwinds,wouldprovideenoughnutritionalroughagewithoutbeingtoorich.Thebacksectionofthefencedareaincludedwoodsthathecoulduseforshadeandforaging.Hewouldneedlittlesupplementalfeed,

exceptperhapsinwintermonths,orinthepeakofsummerscorchers,whengrasswitheredtobrowndust.Therewasmoretolearnthanwethought,butthedonkey’sgentletemperamentinvitedourattentionandaffection.

Sincehehadworkedhiswayintoourbarnandourhearts,weknewitwastimetogivehimarealname.In

ourfamily’shistory,we’dceremoniouslychristenedasuccessionofpets:Checkers,thespringerspanielwithbrownandwhitemarkings;ButtonsandTwix,handsomecatbrothers;Wilson,theparakeetwerescuedwhenwefoundhimbouncingacrossthestreetlikeatennisball.AndtherewasAngel,thered-tailedhawkTomoncehad

whenhepracticedfalconry.Eventhegerbilsandfishhadfancynamesbestoweduponthemduringtheirbrieflivesinourcare.

Thechallengehadalwaysbeentofindamonikerthatwouldfiteachanimal’spersonality,yetwouldn’tcauseembarrassmentifwehadtoyellthenameinpublic.Overtheyears,Tom,

onthegroundsofhismanhood,vetoedcutesynameslike“Schmoozy,”“Fluffy,”and“Snookums”forourfamilymenagerie,andweagreeditwasareasonableenoughguidelinetofollow.Youshouldn’tmakeaguywho’smostcomfortableincamouflagehaveapetwhosenamesuggestsitshouldbecarriedinsideapinkpurse.

“Sowhatdoyouthinkweshouldcallhim?”IaskedTom,whosereflectionIcaughtinthemirrorwhileIdiddoubleduty—brushingmyteethandinspectingthecrow’s-feetaroundmyeyes.“Shouldwegowithsomethingcomicalsinceheis,afterall,adonkeyforcryingoutloud?Orshouldwefindsomethingsortof

stately?”Wehadneverhadmuchtroubledecidingwithourotherpets,butforwhateverreason,thiswasquitethedilemma.

Tomsatonthebedandputonhisworkshoes.“Nottoconfusethings,butsinceweliveinTexas,there’salsoanabundanceofSpanishnameswecouldconsider.”

“That’strue!”HeknewhowmuchIlovedthoseburrosfrommychildhood.Thiswasgettingmorecomplicatedbytheminute.

Wespentsometimetossingaroundvariousideasbutdecidedtokeepthinkingaswewentonwithourday.

Whileuponscaffolding,wemovedontothesilly:Brae,Harry,Eeyore.

“Havingadonkeyisfun,buthe’snotsomethingIwanttomakefunof,”Tomobjected,dippinghisbrushintobluepaintandwipingtheexcessontherimofthecan.Wecrossedthosenamesoffourlist.

Thebusinessofnaminghimcameupatallhoursoftheday.Intheevening,overamassofopenBride

magazinesandpopcorn,thegirlssuggestedsomethingmoreserious,moredignified.“WhataboutJefferson,orWinston?Henry?Roosevelt?”Better,butstillnotright.

Maybesomebiblicalinspiration?Atbedtime,weconsideredBalaam;Ichabod;andJonah,Micah,andalltheotherminorprophets.

Nomatterwhatwetried,nothingseemedtofit.HewastheNamelessBrayingOneofthePasture,anditbotheredus.Theweeksdriftedbywithnosolution.

“Wecan’tjustkeepcallinghim‘DonkeyBoy,’”IsaidasTomandIunloadedladdersintothebarnoneafternoon.“Itseemsalittleimpersonal,andjustslightly

likewedon’tcare.”Westoppedtowatchhimmoseyalong,enjoyingthesunshine,hishoovesdraggingfromoneendofthefieldtotheother.

“Iknow.Buttherightnameisimportant.Youdon’twanttomessthatup,evenforadonkeythatwecouldn’tgetfivedollarsfor.”Tomwinkedandthrewanarmovermyshoulder,thenquickly

removeditinthestickyheat.“Youknow,”hereflected,“thatguyisneverinahurry.It’slikehe’sinatimewarp.Hecouldnevergetanywhereinaflash.”

Welookedateachother,andthelightdawned.Flash!Thatwasit!

Flash.Asinaspeedingsuperherowhocomestotherescueofoneindistress.We

chuckledatthethoughtofournewdonkeyinamaskemblazonedwithlightningbolts,stoppingtotakeanapenroutetothwartingacrisis.Yes,itwasperfect.Thekidsapproved.

AssoonasFlashwasnamed,weknewwithoutsayingthathisprobationhadendedandhecouldnowbeconsideredabonafide

memberofthefamily.Wewalkedrightintoit,eyeswideopen.

Here’sapieceofadvicethatcomesfreewiththisbook:Rescuer,beware.Assoonasyounameastrayanimal,it’syours.Forbetterorforworse.Yours,baby.Youneedtothinkaboutthatthenexttimeyoupickupastraykittyandstartcalling

her“Pookie”whileyou’retryingtofindahomeforher.Faceit—Pookieisyours,andshebecameyourstheminuteyoupronouncedthosetwosyllables.

Flashwasoursforkeeps,andwefellinlovewithhim.Heshedhisshaggywinterhair,revealingasmooth,gray-browncoatthatmadehimlookpositivelysleek.

Evenhisearslostmostoftheirwoolandbecamesilkysoft,especiallyattheirbaseneartheknobonthetopofhishead.Helovedhavingtheinsidesoftheselong,tubularappendagesrubbedandlookedforwardtoanyattentionthatcamehisway.

Beinggroomedbecamehisfavoritepastime,andIuseditasabonding

opportunity,talkingtohimasIworkedthebrushoverhisbody.Heseemedinterestedinmychatter,soIfilledhiminonourprojects,kepthimabreastofourfamilyactivities,andtoldhimwhatevercametomymind.Hisearsfollowedmyvoice,turningthiswayandthat,andhe’dnodeverynowandthen,suggestinghisresponse:“Go

on,tellmemore.”Iquicklyrealizedhewastheperfectlistener,thekindwhomakesyoufeelhehasallthetimeintheworldforyourstory.Wheneverthecurrycombcameout,herelaxedintoapuddleofequinebliss.Youcouldalmostseehimsmile.Flash’sshynessslowly

meltedaway,andwebegantoseeglimpsesofanoutgoingpersonality.

Flashmadehimselfathomeatourplace.Ouryellow,1970sbarn-shapedhouse,properlydeemed“gambrelstyle,”satnexttohisnewpastureandgaveusaprimeviewofhisactivities.Hehaditmade:anabundanceofwide-openspaceto

aimlesslywanderunderabigsky,abarnforshelter,andtwoacresofshadywoodstoexplore.

Fouryearsearlier,whenwehadfoundthepropertythroughanadinthepaper,wehadnouseformostofit,excepttostoresuppliesintheemptybarn.Wegladlyabandonedoursuburbanlifeandsetaboutmakingthe

rentedfixer-upperourhome—onadime,ofcourse.ThoughjusttwentymilesoutsideoftheDallasmetroplex,itfeltlikeaworldawayfromthecity.

Thequarter-miledrivewaywoundatopadam,pastapond,andthroughsomewoodsbeforecomingaroundtothehouseinaclearing.The“charming

farmhouse”(asdescribedinthepaper)containedsomestrangefeatures,suchasatoiletcrammedsoclosetothewallthatitrequiredsidesaddlepositioningandasenseofhumortomakeitwork.Butoncewereplacedthecarpetandpaintedtheantiseptic,whitesemigloss

wallsandceilingswithpleasantnewcolors,itfeltlikearealhome.

Thekids’bedroomswerenestledundertheslopingeavesofthebarnlikeroofandhaddormerwindowseats—perfectspotsfordaydreaming,whichweencouraged.Thoughtiny,thekitchenhadplentyoffauxwoodcountertopsandenough

cabinetspaceforallourcookware.AsIwasheddishes,Icouldlookoutthewindowtoanever-changingviewofgrassesandwildflowersinafieldthatslopeddowntoawoodedcreekbed.

Mightyburoaks,redoaks,andcedarsfilledthewoodsandtransformedwiththeseasons,providingan

endlessarrayofbeauty.We’vebeenstarvedforthis.Wesoakeditin.Granted,thesepticsystembackedupregularly,andalmosteveryfixtureneededreplacing.Butthoseweresmallhindrances.Ourfamilycouldbreathehere,andtheeighteenacresoflandthatcamewiththehousewasmorethanwecouldhavehopedfor.It

becameoursanctuaryinthemidstofourtightropewalkoffinancialinsecurity.Wehadnomoney,buttheviewwaspriceless.

Withhiscalmpresencegracingtheproperty,Flashseemedtocompleteournewlifestyle.Itjustfeltrighttohavehaybalesonhandforour“livestock,”tocheckfencesforneededrepairs,and

topetaneagernoseoverthegate.EvenBeauseemedtoresignhimselftosharingouraffectionwithanotheranimal,althoughhemadeapointtobarkatFlashwheneverhecould.

WehadonlyhadFlashforacoupleofmonthswhenourlandlordsstoppedbytovisit.They’djustmovedintoanoldcottagethatwasonthesamepropertywerentedfromthem,whichnowmadeusneighbors.ALouisiana–born-and-bredblondebelle,Bridgettemadeastrikingcontrasttoherhusband,Steve,atall,bearded

Midwesterner.WhereBridgettewasvivaciousandtalkative,Stevewasreservedandquiet.WhileStevefavoredflannelshirtsandjeans,Bridgettealwayslookedasifshe’dsteppedoutofafashionmagazine,herathleticfigureaccentuatedbyslimskirtsandfittedblouses.Bridgettehadpioneeredaprestigiousarchitectural

designfirminDallasandrepresentedeverythingIwasnot:beautiful,educated,confident,successful,worldly,fit,stylish,professional.Iavoidedherasoftenaspossible.Whichwasnoteasy,sincetheynowneighboredus.

BridgetteandStevehadrecentlymarriedandshedtheirfabulouscareersand

chicdowntownDallaslofttostrikeoutontheirownasentrepreneurs.Everythingaboutthemwascool—eventhefacttheyhaddownsizedtothesmallhouseontheproperty.Theydesignedcorporatespacesfromtheirfrontporchbydayandworkedintheirorganicgardenintheevenings.I’m

quitesuretheylovedhummusandknewallaboutfinewines.

Beneaththeshadeofthecedartreesthatlinedthepasture,wechitchattedabouttheweatherandcaughtupontheneighborhoodnews.Justthen,Flashmeandereduptothegate,lookingforanearscratch.

“Haveyoumetournewdonkey?”Iasked,turningtoseeiftheywereimpressed.

“Oh,we’vealreadymadefriendswiththisguy,”Bridgettedrawledasshereachedforward,herexpensivebraceletsclanking.“Idn’thejus’adorable!Wejus’lovehim.”

Wesmiledlikeproudnewparents,pleasedwiththeirprogeny.Yes,Flashwasarealmemberofthefamily.Akeeper.Westartedtogushabouthisemergingqualities,butwhatweheardnextsilencedthewordsonourlips.

“Andguesswhat!”Bridgettecontinued,enthusiasmspilling.“We’ve

givenhimtheperfectname!”Oursmilesfrozeinplace.

Wait.You’vedonewhat?Shepauseddramatically

aswestared,wide-eyedindisbelief.Withaflourish,shewentfortheBigReveal.“Hisnameis...Hay-soos!Youknow,it’saSpaynishname!”Sheclappedherhandstogetherindelight.“Idn’tthatperfect?”

Perfect?No,notintheleast.Jesús,whileacommonnameinSpanish,wouldneverbeusedformydonkey,whoalreadyhadaname:Flash.

“Well,hi,Hay-soos!Howyadoin’?”shegreetedFlashashenosedinformoreaffection.Shepronounced“hi”like“hah,”anditsuddenlygratedonmynerves.Flashclearlydidnot

sharemymisgivingsaboutthisnamebecausehehomedrightinontheattention.

Sopleasedwiththeirexcellentnamingofouranimal,thesewell-meaningneighborsseemedoblivioustoourawkwardprotestthathe’dalreadybeennamedFlash.Byus.Hisowners.The

peoplehebelongsto.Theoneswhoownhim.Yeah.Nope,theyjustkepttalking.

“Hay-soosissoentertaining!Wejustlovegivinghimcarrotsoverthefenceandticklingthosebigol’lipsofhis!”Theylaughed,throwingtheirheadsbackindelight.Butallwecouldhearwas“Hay-soosthis”and

“Hay-soosthat,”andeachtime,webecamemoreannoyed.

Thenerve.Tonamesomeoneelse’spet.Why,I’dneverdreamofgoingovertotheirhouseandpresumingtorenameoneoftheirfancycats.Mybackprickled.

IheardMissSouthernBelle,Bridgette,callingFlashfromherbackyard.“Yoo-hoo!Hah,Hay-soos!Comeheah,darlin!”shecooed.Iclosedmyeyesandclenchedmyteeth.

“Don’tgo,Flash.Don’tgooverthere.Don’tanswertothat!”Isentthoughtwavestoencapsulatemynew

donkeyinaprotectivementalforcefield,willinghimtostayaway.

Butno.Uh-uh.Flashappearedtobecompletelyoverhisinitialshynessashetrottedovertothefence,happyasaclamtorespondtohisalias—especiallyiftherewerecarrotsinvolved.Dayafterday,Iwatchedindisgust

ashesoldhisdignityforahandout.Flash,whereisyourself-respect?

Thiscouldmeanonlyonething:war.Asubtlewar.Ihitchedupmymomjeansandappliedsomelipstick.Ashotofhairspray.Ready.

IdroppedFlash’snameintoeveryconversationwithourneighbors,whetheritfitthecontextornot.

“Niceweatherwe’rehaving!Flashsureisenjoyingit.”Iemphasizedhisnamewithjustalittleedgeandwaitedfortheirresponse,whichnevercame.

“Oh,whatalovelyoutfityou’rewearing.IshouldcallFlashoverheretoadmireit.”

“Ihearthere’sanewmoviecomingout.IsurewishIcouldtakeFlashtosee

it.”Imadeapointof

correctingeverymentionoftheunmentionablenameIheard.But,havingbeenraisedinchurch,Ididitonlyinthenicest,sweetestwaypossible,soastokeepmyChristianwitness.

Bridgettesaid,“IjustloovetoheahHay-soosbray!Hejustmakesmehappy.”

“Oh,Iknow.”Ismiled.“Flashcancertainlymakesomenoise.Flashissosilly.Flashreallylikestohearhimself.”Mystrategyseemedtofallondeafears.

Undaunted,Iemployedanothertactic:IspokedirectlytoFlashhimself.Heobviouslyneededagoodtalking-tosohewouldstoprunningovertoBridgette

everytimeshecalledhimbythatothername.Nothisrealname.Thenamethatsomebodyelsedubbedhim.

Itookmydonkey’sshaggyheadintomyhandsandlookedintohiswarm,browneyes.Heflaredhisnostrilsandgavemeaninnocentlookinreturn.His

muzzlehairspokedinalldirections,givinghimanextraboostofaudaciousness.

“Flash,”Isaid.“Baby,you’vegottostopthisbusinessofrespondingto‘Hay-soos’everytimeyouhearit,whenthatisnotyourname.Youalreadyhaveaname:Flash.It’sFlash,becauseIownyou,andI’mtheonlyonewhohasthe

righttonameyou.Otherpeoplecancallyouanyothernameinthebook,butgetthisstraight:That’snotyourname.Youbelongtome.Youaremine.Therefore,whatevernameI’vegivenyou—that’syourname.”

Isawasparkofunderstandinginhisexpression,soIlethimgo.Butnotwithoutonelastmom

glareandatwo-fingerpointfrommyeyestohisandbackagainthattoldhimImeantbusiness.Iwantedtoseeachangeinhisbehavior,andthatwasthat.Heloweredhisheadandkickedthedirt.Yes,heobviouslyunderstood.

NowifIcouldonlygetoverfeelingintimidatedbyourwildlysuccessfulneighborsandflatouttell

BridgetteandStevetoknockitoff.ButIsomehowcouldn’tbringmyselftoconfrontthem.Ifeltfinewithlight,briefconversationandthinlyveiledhints,butI’dseenBridgette’swebsitewithherimpressivebio,thelistofprestigiousboardssheservedon,andtheglossyphotographsofallherhigh-endcorporatearchitectural

designs...andthewordsjuststuckinmythroat.Mypaint-splatteredworkclothes,theFordExplorerwithfadingpaint,andthepostdatedrentcheckonlyreinforcedthattheywerewayoutofourleague.Ugh.

Intruth,thislittlespatoverFlash’snamehadbroughtupinsecuritiesI’dbeentryingtosquelch.The

changeinourlocationandsceneryhadn’tchangedthefactthatIwascomingupshortonallfrontsandthatmyfailureskeptbubblingover,nomatterhowhardItriedtokeepalidonthem.Therazor-thinedgeofthewill-we-or-won’t-we-make-itpursuitofourartisticdreamsseemedtoamplifymyshortcomings.Beingconfrontedwitha

gorgeouscouplewhoseemedtohaveitallonlymademyflawsallthemoreobvious.

ButIcouldn’tthinkaboutthatnow.Ineededtopaintaprincess-themednurseryforaclient,andIhadn’tquitefiguredouthowIwasgoingtogetitdoneinthetimeI’dallotted.Irushedtosketchthe

designonthewallandquicklylostmyselfinthework.

“Mom,didyouforgettopickmeup?”Grayson’svoiceonmycellphonebroughtmescramblingdownmyladderatthejobsiteandhurryingtothetruckinafitofpanic.Howcoulditbe4:30already?He’dbeenwaitinganhourforme.

“I’llberightthere,Gray.I’msosorry!Iforgotaboutthetime.”HowcouldIhavebeensothoughtless?ItwasGrayson’sfirstdayofmiddleschool;I’dvowedthatonthisdayIwouldstartdoingabetterjobofstayingorganized,andI’dalreadyfailed.

“Stupid,stupid,stupid!”IchidedmyselfasIspedtheseventymilesfromthejobsitetohisschool.“Iamsostupid!”Iarrivedanhourlatertofindhimsittinginthedarkenedschooloffice,asecretarykeepinghimcompanyasthepoorkidwaitedforhisnegligentmomtocome.Happyfirstdayofsixthgrade,son.Mommy

lovesyou.Shejustforgotaboutyou.

Myfailuresasamotherstackeduprelentlessly.IrememberedhowIusedtohaveanicedinneronthetableatadecenttime,andhowIkeptthehousepickedupandtendedourchildren’sneedswithfocusandenergy.Thesedays,keepingourheadsabovewatermeant

puttinginlongworkhours.Loadingladdersandequipmenteachdayexhaustedme,andmyeveninghourswerespentplanningandsketchingupcomingprojects.

Ontheonehand,Ienjoyedtheworkandlovedthecreativity,butIwasadistractedparent,andonewithashorttemper,atbest.I

missedthesimplerdays,whenmygoalsasamotherhadbeenclearandIhadthetimetobeintentionalinmyparenting.Ihatedpullingshirtsfromthebottomoftheclotheshamperandfluffingtheminthedryerwithantistaticsheets,tryingtopassthemoffasclean.Thissystemfoolednobody.Chippingfrozengroundbeef

inthefryingpanwhilemyhungryfamilygnawedonchipsat8:00p.m.demoralizedme.Bedtimedevotionswiththekids?Ha.

“Inadequate.”Idugthewordintomyjournalwithmypen,tearingthepageswiththeforce.Mydistractedness,myinabilitytocompleteatask,myfailuretoseethethingsthatwereimportantto

myhusband—itwasarecurringthemeinourmarriagewhenthingsgottough.

Wearefortunate;ourconflictsarefewandfarbetween.Butwhenwehavethem,itseemstheycenterondifferencesinpriorities,andItakeithard.He’stheplanner,whileIworkoffofahopeandaprayer.He’stheone

whomeasurestothecentimeter,whileIeyeballandguess.Heneedsthingstidy,andIdon’tseethemess.Whenyou’rethe“close-is-good-enough”partnertoa“do-it-right-or-not-at-all”person,it’seasytofeellikethebiggestfailure-wifeofalltime.Itwasn’tTom’sfaultItookthingsthatway....Itwasmine.I’dhearhimmake

asmallrequestfor,say,rememberingtobuytoothpaste,andI’dnaturallyassumeitmeantIwascompletelyinadequateandworthless.

Myfocusgotlost.Igotlost.Yes,theTexaslandscapewasbeautiful,butIcouldn’tseeitanymore.Myto-dolistoverwhelmedme.Everythingclamoredforattention:The

laundryneededsorting;Graysonneededhelpwithascienceproject;ournewclientwaitedonasketch;weedsovertooktheflowerbeds;wewereoutofmilk;theExplorer’senginemadeknockingsounds;hockeypracticestartedinanhour....Iimploded.I’dbeginonetask,onlytobepulledby

another,thenanother,andattheendofthedayhavenothingdone.

ThereweresomemorningswhenIcouldn’tevengetoutofbed,letalonewagewarovermydonkey’sname.

JustthenIheardBridgette’scheerygreetingtoFlashringoutyetagain.Isighed.AndasIpeered

throughthecurtaintoseehimeagerlytrottingtothefencewithhisearswobblingfromsidetoside,somethingstrangehappened.Ifeltawhisper.Okay,maybenotevenawhisper,butsomething.Anudge,athought.

Atickleonmyskin.Snippetsfromaverse

droppedintomyhead:

Ihavecalledyoubyname;youaremine.

Thewordscaughtmeoffguard.WherehadIheardthembefore?IknowI’vereadthemsomewhere.IreachedformyBibleandflippedpages,finallyfindingtheminIsaiah43:1:

Butnow,OJacob,listentotheLORDwhocreatedyou.

OIsrael,theonewhoformedyousays,

“Donotbeafraid,forIhaveransomedyou.

Ihavecalledyoubyname;youaremine.”

Thelettersleapedoffthepage.

“Youaremine.”Deepbreath.Oh.Ihad

notexpectedthis.AsmuchasIbelievedinaGodwhocaredaboutmeandcouldcertainlyspeaktoanyone,atanytime,Iwonderedifthismightbethat“stillsmallvoice”thatpeopletalkedabout.Consumedbymylittlevortex

offailure,I’dbeendoingmoreblamingthanconnectingwithHim.Ijustkeptmuddling,struggling,failing,andrepeating.

Butsomehow,Hewasusingadonkeytoleadmetoasimpletruth.

Howapropos.BecauseIfeltprettymuch

likeadonkey’shindend.IwasnodifferentfromFlash.I

hadanidentitycrisisofmyowngoingon.Somehow,inthebusynessofthekids’activities,work,cooking,payingthebills,andtryingtojuggleitall,I’dstoppedpayingattentiontomyspirituallife.Prayerhadbecomelittlemorethanaccusationsandpleasforhelp,addressedtoaGodsomewhereupthere.Time

spentlisteningforHim,orreadingHisWord,wasnonexistent.Whybother?Focusingonmyself,myproblems,andmysolutions,IhadlettheconnectionwithmyMakergocold.

Isawmyselfasthecenterofmyownuniverse,utterlyinadequateineverything.Droppingalltheballs.Afailureinmyartisticventure.

Aterriblebusinesswoman.Amomwhoforgottopickupherkidatschool.Alone,eveninthemiddleofabeautifulfamily.Lost,inthemidstofanewcountrylife.Alwaysbehind,foreverfloundering.Afraidofbeingdiscoveredasafraud.WhoamIkidding?I’mnobody.Ilistenedtothewhispersthatcalledintoquestionmyvalue—value

thatwasbasedonmyperformanceinsteadofthemagnificentgracepouredoutonmefromtheheartofalovingheavenlyFather.

TheOnewhoseIam.TheOnewhonamedme.

I’dforgottenjustwhoIbelongedto,andthatmyFatherhadgivenmeaname—infact,manynames—thatexpressedHisloveforme.In

thatmoment,GodremindedmethatmyvaluecomesfrommyrelationshipwithHim,andnotmy“success”asamom,orasawife,orasafriend,orasabusinessperson.

Igrabbedasmallspiralnotebookandwrote,

Rememberyourname.

BelowitIputthesewords:

Knowwhoyoubelongto.

ThenIrealizedthat,likeagoodTexanwithpoorgrammar,somethingaboutthatsentencewasn’tright.We’dsayit,“Knowwhoyabelongta.”SoIscribbleditoutandcarefullyprinted,

Knowwhoseyouare.

Knowwhoseyouare.Ipausedandlookedoutthewindow.MyidentityreallystartsandendswiththeOnewhocreatedme.ThereisabeautifulpoeminPsalm139thatsaysHeknitustogetherinthewombandknowsourinnermostparts.HecreatedusinHisimageandthensat

backandsaid,“Itisgood.”Blinkinghard,Irealizedsomething:Goddoesn’tmakemistakes.Hecreatedmetobeuniquelyme,andIhadsimplyforgottenwhoseIwas.Ihadbeenoperatingfromthewrongowner’smanual.

Ohboy.Asmyownmaster,thenamesIcalledmyself.NamesIrespondedto

assoonasIheardthem.Namesthatweren’tactuallymine.

Failure.Worthless.Inadequate.Afraid.Fraud.Stupid.

IwrotethenamesinmynotebookandcontinuedlistingeverynameIcouldthinkofthatIcalledmyself.Intheend,Ihadaprettylongandpatheticlist.OnsomanylevelsIhadbeatmyselfupinmy“self-talk.”ForgettingwhoIbelongedtohadcreatedanopenseasonforblastingawayatmyself.AndIsuddenlyrealizedthatI’dlet

myveryidentitybeformedbythenamesIcalledmyself,becauseIhadconfusedwhatIdowithwhoIam.Isawmyselfthroughadistortedprism.AllIhadtodowasthinkbacktomylastlowmoment,andbingo—Icouldhearmyselfsaying,“Hello,MyNameIs_______________.”JustasifIwerewearingitonaname

tag.

Hello,MyNameIs___________________________:Afraid:I’mparalyzedbyfearofrejectionandfailure.Alone:Nooneunderstandsme.Unloved:IfGodlovedme,howcouldHeallowthis?

Unlovable:I’mobviouslynot

Unlovable:I’mobviouslynotworthloving.Lost:Iwillneverfindmyway.Unworthy:IcannotacceptloveandaffirmationbecauseI’msuchaloser.Failure:Um,obvious.Sinner:Ikeepcommittingthesamestupidsinsoverandoveragain.

Damaged:Mywoundsaretoo

Damaged:Mywoundsaretoodeeptoheal.Ugly:GodusedallHisbeststuffonthecheerleadersandgavemetheleftovers.Defeated:Whyeventry?Stupid:Iamconstantlymakingdumbmistakes.Fake:OnedayeveryonewillfindoutI’mnotwhotheythinkIam.

Inadequate:Icannotmeasure

Inadequate:IcannotmeasureuptothewomanIshouldbeforthepeopleIlove.Nobody:Idon’tmatter.

Thatafternoon,ithitme.AsachildofGod,IbelongtoHim.Hemademe.Heownsme.IamHis.

This.Changes.Everything.

Godseesmethroughthelensofeternity,throughgraceandthroughthemercythatmakesallthingsnew.Complete.Perfect.MyidentityisinHim.OnlyHehastherighttonameme.Asamatteroffact,onlyHehastherighttonameyou.

MyheartbeatalittlefasterasIwrotedownthenamesHehadgivenme.

Later,IfollowedeachwithaScripturereference,butatthetime,justseeingthelistofnamesoverwhelmedme.Ipicturedeachwordasanametag.

Hello,MyNameIs________________________.BraveUnderstoodLoved

PreciousFoundWorthySuccessfulForgivenWholeBeautifulAbleWiseGenuineEnoughAdaughter

Settingthenotebookaside,Ilacedupmytennisshoesandmademywaytothebackwoods,whereFlashlikedtopasstheafternoonsintheshadeofthetalloaks.Atthesoundofmycall,hishoovesrustledtowardmethroughtheunderbrush.

“Flash!Hey,buddy.”Hecametoastandstillinfrontofmeandloweredhisheadto

sniffmyshirtandrubhisforeheadonmystomach.Whatadifferencefromthescareddonkeyhe’dbeenjustweeksago.Perhapsownershiphadchangedhimaswell.Heseemedeagerforagood,all-overscratching,andIcouldn’tresistgivinghimoneasIcontinuedtoponder.

Ifyou’veeverhadaparadigmshift,canyourelatetohowitfeelslikegiantbouldersaremovingfromonesideofyourbraintoanother?Itiltedmyheadtohastentheprocess,andI’mnotsureithelped,butIstillcouldn’tdenythatsomethingbighadhappened.Somethingsolidified.

IbelongtoGod.IamHis.MyidentityisinHim.Hehasgivenmeanewname.IamnotwhatIdo.Myvaluedoesn’tcomefrommysuccessesormyfailures.WhatIdocomesfromwhoIam,nottheotherwayaround.

Myvalueisinherent,not

Myvalueisinherent,notearned.

No,Ididn’thearanypealsofthunderorangelchoirssinging,andnotrumpetsblaredtoannouncea“HearYe,HearYe”truthtomyhurtingheart.Therewasjustthisfunny-lookingburrowhohadlandedonourdoorsteplateonenight.And

thereinthebackwoods,whilescratchingadonkey’sears,Ilearnedanincrediblething:Godcanuseanything,atanytime,inanyway,tospeaktome.

Fortunately,Hewasfarfromfinished.

Rememberyourname.Knowwhoseyouare.

Ifyou’reapersonwholikescertainty,thencomeondowntoTexasinJuly.Youarecertaintoexperiencesearingtemperaturesthattoponehundreddegreeseachandeveryday.Youcandependonwideblueskies,punctuatedbypuffywhitecloudsthatofferonlyfleetingmomentsofshadebeforeleavingyoutobakeonce

againundertheblisteringsun.Mostassuredly,you’llrunfromair-conditionedbuildingstoair-conditionedcarstoair-conditionedbuildings,clutchingasweaterforthechillyindoorclimateswhileperspiringprofuselyinbetweenentries.You’llsuddenlyunderstandSoutherners’deepaffectionforsweetteaandlemonade

andrealizethatcowboyhatsaren’tonlyaniconoftheWest,butawayofavoidingsunburnednecksandfaces.

LaurenandRoberthadpickedJulyfortheirweddingbutalsohadthesensetogethitchedinsideachurchwithpowerfulairconditioners.Thefrostingonthecakeheldtight,whichwasmorethanIcouldsayformyhairthat

droopedlikemeltedganache.Butthat’sonlyasmallfootnoteonawondrousevent;despitetheheat,itwasapicture-perfectwedding.

Texassummersseemtostretchendlessly,thehotwindblastingacrosstheprairiesandwitheringallbutthehardiestofvegetation.Dayafterswelteringday,thoseofuswholiveherefind

ourselvesyearningforthatfirstcoolbreezethattellsusautumnisonitswaywiththenorthernjetstream.

Nowautumn,asfarasseasonsgo,isarealguessinggame.Youneverknowifyou’regoingtogetgorgeousfallcolorsonthetrees,oriftheleaveswillsimplyturnbrownandfalloff.I’vebeentoldithassomethingtodo

withtheamountofrainduringtheyear,butreally,it’sallconjecture.Noonereallyknows.We’reallhappytohavesurvivedtheheat,sovibrantleafcolorismerelyabonus,likehavinggravyonyourchicken-friedsteak.Don’tevengetmestartedonwinterweather.

Butsinceyoubroughtitup,let’sjustsayTexaswintersarecrazy.Theybringhugefluctuationsinweatherpatterns,resultingintheobvious:anextremedependenceonhairproducts.EverywomaninTexaslivesinastateofperpetualpreparedness.Wordtothewise:Ifyouknowwhat’sgoodforyou,donotget

betweenmeandmycanofsuperholdhairspray.AdayinJanuarymightbesunnyandseventy-fivedegrees,andthenextdaywilllikelybringfreezingtemperaturesandbitingwindsthatcanknockthebreathrightoutofyou...andreduceyourcarefullycoifed“hair-do”toalimp“hair-was.”Inseconds.Buthairproblems

notwithstanding,IsecretlyenjoytheschizophrenicwintersbecauseIlikewakinguptosurprises.Especiallyonesthatbringflip-flop–wearingsunshineandachancetowearshortsinmidwinter.

Withsuchextremes,itwasnecessarytohaveasuitableshelterforFlash,andourthree-sidedbarnmadea

perfecthome.Hecouldgoinandoutashepleased,findingwelcomeshadeforloafingonasummerdayandprotectionfromtheunpredictablewind,rain,andsleetduringothertimesoftheyear.

“Flashstillprefersthewoods,”Tomobserved.“Ithinkhelikestokeephisoptionsopen.”Nonetheless,underFlash’swatchfuleyes,

Tominstalledahayrackandwaterbucketinthebarn,shoredupthepartition,andhunglightingsowecouldseeatnight.TheseimprovementsreceivedFlash’sstampofapproval,withthehayrackbeinghismostcherishedfeatureofall.Youwouldhavethoughthishaywasbeingserveduponfinechina,asheeagerlypulleditfrom

thesturdymetalstructure,onemouthfulatatime.Itwasfinedining,donkeystyle.Whennoteatingorcombingthefloorforanydroppedbitsofhay,Flash’sfavoriteplacetostationhimselfwashalfinandhalfoutofthestallopening.Backendprotected,frontendoutwherehecouldseewhatwasgoingon.Withsoftwoodshavingsonthedirt

floor,Flashhadacomfyspotfordozing.Prettynicedigsforaonce-homelessfellow,anditfeltgoodtoseehimenjoythespace.

Astheseasonschanged,Flashhimselfseemedtotransformwiththem.Hissleek,summeryhairwasagainreplacedbyathick,furrycoatthatmadehimappearfuzzyandchunky—

alookthatwasendearingonhim.Thehaironhisforeheadanddownhisnosecurledinalldirections,givinghimakindofplump,teddybearcharm,andthecreamywhitehaironhischestandbellyfeltassoftasvelvetandtwiceasdeep.EverytimeIsawhim,Ijustwantedtosqueezehim,soIusuallydid.

Flashwasgettingaccustomedtomyburstsofaffection,andthoughhepretendedtosimplytoleratethem,Inoticedhe’dstartedtocomerunningwhenIcalled.However,assoonashegotnearme,he’dpullupandactlikehejust“happened”tobepassingby.“Oh,youwanttohugme?Well,ifyoumust,Iguessit’sokay,”Flash’s

demeanorintimated,barelyhidinghisdelight.Perhapsinhispreviouslifehe’dbeendisappointedsooftenthathedidn’twanttoappeartooeager.

Nonchalance,asI’dfoundinmyownexperience,isaneffectivedefensemechanism.Seeingitlingerinhimtouchedme,andIsqueezedhimalittlemoretightly

becauseofit.Andsincewinterhadarrived,Ithrewinanextrahandfulofhay,which,incontrast,hereceivedwithjoyoussnortsandnickers.Nottheslightestbitofindifferencetobefound.

Februaryarrived,bringingaweekofdelightfullywarmweather.Outcametheshortsandsandals.Ofcourse,itwas

immediatelyfollowedbyarecord-breakingcoldfrontdubbed“TheArcticBlast”bylocalmedia.Ithurledinfromthenorthwithfreezingrainthatbroughtourbusylivestoastandstill.ItprobablygoeswithoutsayingthatTexansdon’tfunctionwellinice,butIthoughtI’dgoaheadandmentionit.Thepeltingicestormstartedduringthenight

andcontinuedthroughoutthefollowingday,andallroadswereshutdown.Bridgesandoverpassesbecameslipperydeathtraps.Schoolattendancewasunthinkable.Wesatgluedtoourtelevisionsetlikeweatherzombies.Ajackknifed18-wheeleronI-35?Wemustwatchthis.

Asthetreesandnativegrassesbecameencrustedwithlayeruponlayerofice,theyglitteredeerilylikeascenerecreatedfromaNarnianwinter.Thetemperaturesdroppedfurther,andthesleetkeptcomingasthedeciduoustreesbegantobowundertheweight.Thebranchesofthecedarsaroundthehousewerealsobending

beneaththeloadofice;bynightfalltheynearlytouchedtheground.

Inside,Iturnedonallthelampsandlitscentedcandlestocelebratebeingcozyandsafeandwarmonsuchanunforgivingnight.ThekidswerealreadyintheirpajamasandsatonarugbythefireplacewithBeau,whowasonlytoohappytojointhem

astheystartedamovie.Canceledschoolmeantalate-nighttreatforeveryone,includingthedog.Tom,anatureenthusiast,wasn’tcontenttonestleinthecomfortofourlivingroom.Iwatchedhimdonhisjacketandhat.

“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing,honey?”Iaskedashepulledonthickgloves.I

hadalreadyguessedwhathisresponsewouldbe.

“I’vegottoseehowbaditisoutthere.”

TomalwayssecretlyhopesforaTexasblizzard—notsurprisingforsomeonewhogrewupinMinnesotaandharborsanintensefascinationwithwintryblasts.Mercy,he’dloveagoodsnowstorm.Butshortofa

blizzard—theweathereventofhisdreams—iceisclearlythenextbestthingtosnow.He’dneverforgivehimselfifhemissedit.Momentsafterclosingthedoorbehindhim,hepokedhisnosebackinside.

“Comeoutherewithme,”hecalled.Ihadseenenoughwithoneglimpse—itlooked

awfullycoldandmiserableoutthere.

Ishookmyheadandsankalittledeeperintomyafghanonthecouch.No.I’mgood.Thankyou,though.Seriously,Ifeltquitecomfortableinsidewhereitwasniceandwarm.Myfuzzysocksweredelightful.

“Pleasecome.Iwantyoutoexperiencethis!”heinsisted,hisblueeyesdancing.

Sighing,Isetmybookfacedownonthecushion,gotup,anddutifullyputonaheavycoatandshoes.GraysonandMeghanlookedoninamusement.Theywereaccustomedtotheirfather’sweatherobsessionandhad

alreadysetoutseldom-usedplasticsaucersforhillslidingwithhiminthemorning.Ifollowedhimoutintotheicyevening,andheputhisarmaroundmeaswesteppedacrossthecrunchygrass.

“Rach,you’vegottoseethis!”Tomsaid.Heactsjustlikeakidduringtheseclimaticoccurrences.Ihadtosmile.Despitemyself,I

alwaysgetdrawnintohisexcitementforthesimplethings.

Hewhippedouthishigh-poweredflashlightandaimedthebeamintothetrees.Theyshimmeredinthelight,theirglitterylayersoficeflashingandsparkling.Thebaublesoficethatclungtothecedars

soundedlikeathousandbeadeddressesswayinginthecoldnightbreeze.

Hewasright.Itwasworthcomingoutside.Andtothinkitdidn’tcostapenny.

“Now,”Tomsaid,“behold!”Inagrandgesture,hemovedthebeamoutintothepasture,wherethewintergrassesstoodfrozenintheirwhitecouture.Eachblade,

eachplant,eachstickwasapictureofmagicalperfection,asifcoatedwithglimmeringfairydustagainsttheblacksky.

“Ohhh,”Ibreathed.Itlookedsimplyamazing.Westoodawestruckbythebeautyandsavoreditinthedarknessthatsurroundedus.Tomslowlydirectedtheshaftoflightacrossthesmallfield

andtowardthebarn.Thelighttippedthegrassandshrubsasitmovedalong,ignitingicysparklesinitspath.

Suddenlyadark,shaggylumpappearedinthespotlight.Tombackedupandshonehisflashlightacrossthegraymassagain.Whatintarnation?

Flash!Huddledjustoutsidethebarninthefreezingrain,thedonkeyraisedhisheavyheadandpeeredbackatusquestioningly.“Huh?”heseemedtosay.Hestartedtowardus,andasheneared,wecouldseethathe,too,wascoveredinthickice.OnlyonFlash,theicecoatwasn’tnearlyasglamorousasthe

onewornbythecedars.Crusty,frozendirtballsstucktohislongwinterhair,andamassofmuddyicicleshungfromhismane.Hewasacold,filthymess.

“Flash,whatareyoudoing?”Iscoldedhim.“Whyonearthareyoustandingoutsidethebarnwhenyoushouldbeinsidewhereit’sniceanddry?”I’dcheckedon

himearlierinthedayandmadesureheknewhehadplentyofhayintheopenstall.Ineverimaginedhe’dchoosetobravetheelementsinstead.

Flashpulledupclosetothegateandgavemeapatheticlookthatsaid,“Pleaseletmecomeintoyourcozyhousetogetwarm.”

Well,therewasn’tachanceintheworldthatthatwasgoingtohappen,butbeforeIcouldopenmymouthtosethimstraight,Tomturnedtomeandsaid,“Whydon’tyouheadbackinside?I’mgoingtogivethepoorguysomeoats.”

“He’lljustthinkyou’rerewardinghimforhisignorance,”Icalledafterhim,

buttonoavail.Mymanwasalreadyofftohavemercyonthefrostybeastwhocouldn’tseemtofigureouthowtoescapethesleet.Ishookmyhead.Aww,Flash!You’reawfullycute,butwhere’syourcommonsensetonight?

Tomgaveawhistle,whichhadbecomehissignaturecall,andFlashfollowedacrossthefrozen

pasturetothebarn.Onceinsidetheshelterofthestall,Tomgavehimahandfulofoatsandthenmadeahastytriptothehouseforsomesupplies:towels,blankets...andahairdryer.Backhewenttothebarn,andFlashshivereduncontrollablywhileTompulledtheiceclodsoffhimandblottedhismattedhairwithmygoodbath

towels.Flashwassoakedallthewaytotheskin—anddangerouslycold.Withonehandaroundhisthicknecktoreassurehim,Tomturnedonthenoisyhairdryer.Flashstartledandtriedtobreakfree.

“It’sokay,Flash.We’vegottogetyoudry.”Tombegantoworkhimover,inchbyinch.

Oncehegotusedtothewhirringsound,thedonkeyrelaxedandletthewarmairblowoverhim.GentlyseparatingFlash’shair,Tommassagedtheanimal’sbodywithhisfingers.Flashclearlylovedtheattention,cooperatingfullybyturningthiswayandthatsothatnopartofhimwasmissed.Hechewedslowlyonthehay,

pausingwheneverTomhitaparticularlypleasantspot.Justabovethetail?Ohyes,please.

BythetimeTomfinishedthelengthysalontreatment,Flash’shairfeltsoftandfluffyasitcurledupalonghisbackinshinyringlets.Tomdecidedhewasfinallydry

enoughtodrapewithaheavyblanket(alsooneofmygoodones)andleaveforthenight.

“Feelbetternow,buddy?”Flashgaveadeepsigh

andpressedTom’sjacketsleevewithhiswhitemuzzle.Witheyesclosedandhindfootresting,hewasthepictureofsleepygratitude.

Afteronelastnogginscratch,Tomreturnedtothehouseandshedhisdirtyjacketandhat.Cuppinghishandsunderthehotwater,hestartedtowashupashegavemethereportonournow-fluffed-and-warmeddonkey.

“Ican’tfigureoutwhyhedidn’tgetoutofthesleetthisafternoon,”Tomsaid.“Hecouldhavebeenwarmand

drythiswholetime,butitwaslikehedidn’tknowhowtotakeshelterinthebarnwhenitwasrightinfrontofhim.”

Itookthekettleoffthestovetofillamugwithhotcocoa.“Whatcouldpossiblyhavebeengoingthroughhismind?Ithoughthissenseofself-preservationwouldkeep

himinside.”Itwasamystery.“Anyway,thankyouforgettinghimfixedup.”

“Gladtodoit.”Tomtookthemugfrommyhandsandsatdowninhisrecliner.IwasgratefulhehadtakenituponhimselftomakesureFlashwassafe.ItwasbeyondthekindofcoldIwantedtofacethatnight.Brrrr.Iwentbacktomybook,butawordTom

hadsaidniggledatme.Ithoughtforamoment.Whatwasit?

Shelter.Thatwasit.ItwasthethingFlashhad

neededthemost,andithadbeenavailabletohimfromthemomentthestormhit.Justafewsmallstepswouldhavetakenhimrightinside,andhe’dhavebeensparedthe

dangerousmiseryheexperiencedastheiceandtemperaturesfellthatday.Ipicturedhimashestoodthere,becomingcoatedwithsleet,andyetunable,orunwilling,toseekshelter.Ifeltbothsorryforhimandpuzzledbyhisbehavior.Icouldn’tunderstandit.

Settingthebookdownonceagain,Isuddenlyhadavisionofmyownself—inthedarkestmomentsofmylife—standingoutside,coldandalone,justasFlashhadbeen.Ohsure,therehadbeenmanytimesI’dneededhelpandhadbeencomfortedbytheshelterofGod’spresence.ButtherehadalsobeenjustasmanytimesthatI’dstoodshivering

inlonelymisery.CoulditbepossiblethatinmyownmomentsofdeepestneedIhadbeenjustthatclosetocomfortandnotrealizedit?

Refuge—truerefugeinthefaceoflife’sstruggles—canbefoundonlyinHim.Iknowthat.Sowhywasitthatwhentimesgottoughforus,thefirstthingIwantedtodowasgoshoppingforanew

purse?Andeatsomethingcompletelydecadent,likeamoltendeath-by-chocolatedesserttoppedwithgooeyicecream?It’slikeIwantedtofindcomfortinthemall.Ormorespecifically,thefoodcourtofthemall.Orboth.

SometimesmyrefugedujourwaslosingmyselfonlineinFacebookandTwitter.DoingGooglesearchesfor

red-carpethairstylesorshoppingonAmazon.Inevergotintoalcohol,butIhearitdoesabang-upjobofnumbingpain.I’vegotplentyoflittle“copingtechniques”forstressandstorms,butinrealityallofthemarejustsubstitutesfortruecomfort.Temporaryreliefformydeeperproblems.Theyare

counterfeitsthatseemliketherealthing,butintheend,don’twork.

Iwaslearningthehardwaythatcounterfeitsingeneralcangetyouintotrouble.I’mremindedofthetimenotlongagowhenaninvitationtoaweddingtaughtmethisvaluablelesson.Imadealast-minutestopatthestoreforagiftandsomething

towearbecause,asperusual,Ihadnothingsuitableonhand.Nowrunninglate,Idashedhomeandthrewonmynewoutfit,thenrealizedtheclothesI’dsohurriedlyboughtwouldshowthedreadedpantylines.Yikes.IrummagedlikeamadwomanthroughmydrawersandbasketsformySPANX,the

miracleoutfitfixer,butcouldnotcomeupwithitanywhere.

Nottoworry.Inthedeeprecessesofmymemory,afashiontipI’donceheardsurfaced:Ifyou’reinapinchforabottom-smoother,simplycutthelegsoffofapairofpantyhoseandslidethetoppartonforaperfectsubstitute.

Eureka!Igrabbedsomescissors,

slicedthelegsawayfromanoldpair,andputthemon.Fabulousidea—Iwasset.Andsoproudofmyinnovation.ButperhapsIshouldpointoutthatthetitleofthislittleillustrationshouldbe“ThingsThat

SeemedlikeGreatIdeasattheTimeButDidNotLiveUptoExpectations.”

Themodifiedpantyhoseindeedworkgreatintheory...foraboutthefirsthour.Butaftersometimeelapses,theproblemssetin.

IhadmadeitallthewaythroughtheceremonyandintothereceptionwhenIrealizedthatmyscience

wasn’tassoundasI’dassumed.AsIstooduptogetmorecheesefromtheappetizertable,thecutoffedgesofmyfauxSPANXrolleduptomyderrierelikeCubancigars,creatingavisualdisasterzone.Waytoomuchcheese,myfriends.

Mortified,Istifflymademywaytotheladies’roomforanadjustmentanddecided

tostandfortherestofthereception.Therewouldbenodancingthatday.

Ilearned,viapersonalhumiliation,thatthereisnosubstitutefortheRealThing.

Oh,theBiblehassomuchtosayabouttheRealThing—thetruekindofrefugethatisfoundinitspages.It’soneofthosesubjectsthatmakesmyearsperkupwhenIhearit,

maybebecauseIneeditsooften.Refuge—somethingthatbringscomforttothesoul—isoneofourdeepestneedsashumanbeings.Welongforit.Andwhenyouconsiderwhywedothethingswedo,theneedforrefugefuelsmostoftheactivityintheworld.

Webster’sdictionarydefinesrefugethisway:“protectionorshelter,asfrom

dangerorhardship;asourceofhelp,relief,orcomfortintimesoftrouble.”

Refuge,inapracticalsense,is

Safety:protectionfromoutsideforces,the“stormsoflife”Security:freedomfromfear,whichallowsyoutoflourish

Significance:beingconfident

Significance:beingconfidentinyourplaceintheworld;yourcontributionProvision:havingyourphysical,emotional,andspiritualneedsmetBelonging:knowingyouarepartofsomethingbiggerthanyourself

IthoughtofthetimesI’dexperiencedavaguesenseofuneaseandunsettlednessthatwashardtoputafingeron.Andwhenweariness,likethekindIhadwhenFlashshoweduponourdoorstep,hadsettleddeeplyinmybones.Somethingseemedtobemissing,butwhat?Iwasgoingthroughthemotionsofparentingandworkingand

serving,butIfeltliketherewasaholeinthemiddleofitall.Perhapsitwasthe“significance”factorortheaspectof“belonging”thatIwasn’texperiencing,andinsideIsimplylongedforsomekindofrefuge.

Andthentherewereothertimesinwhichthecircumstancesoflifeweretoopainfultobear,whenthe

vagueuneasebecameabsolutedesperationforcomfort.

Iwasabouttoturnforty,andtwofaintpinklinesonastickfromatestkittoldmeIwaspregnant—tenyearsafterouryoungestchildhadbeenborn,fifteenandseventeenyears

afterourdaughters.Oncethesurprise(andlet’sbehonest,panic)woreoff,excitementsetin.Thiswasthechildwehaddesiredforsolong,hadhopedfor,andhadgivenuponeverhaving.

ItthrilledmethatIwouldgettoexperiencemommyhoodalloveragain!Ilovedthoseyearswithlittleonesandcouldnotbelievewe

weregoingtobeblessedwithafourthbaby.Andbothmysisterandsister-in-lawwereexpectingbabieswithindaysofmyduedate!Whatwerethechancesofthathappening?Wesurprisedmymotherwithback-to-backMother’sDayphonecallstellingherournews.Thewholefamilywaselated.

Andthenourexcitementwascutshort.

“I’msosorry,”thedoctorsaid,tearsfillinghereyesinsympathyasshemovedtheultrasoundwandovermyabdomen.MyheartpoundedoutofmychestasIclutchedTom’shandinthesmallexaminationroom.Wescannedthedarkscreen,desperatetoseeanysignof

movement,buttherewasnothing.Justatiny,lifelessformthathadbeenourbaby.

Justafewweeksbefore,inanefforttobreakupthemonotonyofalong,hotsummerday,IwasmakingaspontaneousruntothevideostorewithGraysonwhenourvehiclewashithead-onbyadistracteddriveronacountryroad.Wefeltluckytowalk

awayfromthewreckunscratched,andIimmediatelywenttothedoctortomakesurethebaby’sheartbeatwasstillthere.Whatarelieftohearit!Butitdidn’tlast.

“Abruptionoftheplacenta,”theycalledit—theresultoftrauma.Insudden

shockandgrief,thefloorfellawayfrommyfeet,theroomspinningaroundus.

Theygiveyoutwenty-fourhourstoabsorbthenewsbeforeinducinglabor.Theytellyoutogohomeandrest,thatitwillallsoonbeover.Theytellyouitis“nature’sway”andthatyou’llbeabletohaveotherbabies,don’tworry.Whattheydon’ttell

youishowhardyou’llcry,orhowaloneyou’llfeel,orthatyourheartwillbreakinamillionpieceswhileyouwait.Theydon’ttellyouthatlabor,whenyouknowattheendofityou’llhavenobabytobringhome,ishorrific.Theydon’ttellyouthatwhenyourmilkcomesinandthereisnobabytonurse,you’llsitinthe

showerandsobuntilyoucan’tsobanymore.Theydon’ttellyouanyofthat.

Butthen,nothingcanprepareyouforthiskindofdisappointment,thismuchheartache.

TomandIgottoseeourlittleboyinthedeliveryroom.WenamedhimCollin,andhewasbeautiful.Soutterlyperfect.Therewasa

smallfuneralandatinycasketunderanawningintherain...andsomanyquestions.IwishedGodhadleftuswellenoughalone.We’dbeencontentwiththreewonderful,healthychildren—whyonearthhadHesnatchedCollinawaysocruelly,onlypretendingtogiveusanotherpreciousgift?

FormonthsIcouldnotstopthetearsthatwouldcome,unbidden,asIwasheddishesorfoldedclothes,ordrovealongonthecountryroadwherethecarshadcollidedandmyhappylittleworldhadended.Icouldn’tbeartheholidays;thethoughtofseeingmysisterandsister-in-law’spregnantbellieswastoomuch,sowestayedaway.

Ifeltaconstantlumpinmythroat,andIsqueezedmyeyesshutsoIwouldn’tthinkofthepreciouslife—thelittlefingersandtoesandbellybutton—thatwewouldneverknow.

Ineededrefuge.Comfortfortheanguishthatengulfedme.

IclungtoPsalm34:18—“TheLORDisclosetothebrokenhearted;herescuesthosewhosespiritsarecrushed”—aswellasPsalm145:14—“TheLORDupholdsallwhofallandliftsupallwhoareboweddown”(NIV).Jesus,please.Pleasebeclosetome.MostdaysIcouldnotsenseHimanywhere.Buttherewassomethingthathad

occurredduringthelongnightbeforeIwasscheduledforlaborthatgavemethetiniestglimmerofhope,atraceofrefugethatsomehowcarriedme.Itwasunexplainable.

Ithappenedwhentheoldclockradionexttomybedclickedonatatimenoonehadsetitfor.AsIstruggledtofigureoutwhytheradio

wasonatthisstrangehour,asongbyFernandoOrtegabegantoplay.“Jesus,KingofAngels”pouredovermelikewarmhoney.That’stheonlywayIcandescribeit.Iweighedathousandpoundsandcouldnotmoveasthewordsgentlydrippeddownintomysoulandpooledthere.

ThelyricsremindedmethattheinfiniteGodoftheuniverseismindfulofeachsparrowthatfalls.Mybaby.Oh,mylittleone.Hewasmindfulofalltheanxiousthoughtsthatfilledme,andHewouldbewithmeandkeepmeinHispeace.Thefinalnotesoftheguitarfaded.

Tears,andmoretears.Mypillowwassoakedwiththem.IlayinthepredawngrayhoursandachedforthebabyIwasabouttodeliver,theoneIwouldnevergettoknow.Idreadedthehours,days,andweeksthatweretocome.Andyetmyheartreplayedthesonghundredsoftimesasthedarkdayspassed,areminderthatHispresence

waswithme,evenwhenIcouldnotfeelHimorunderstandthewhys.

TherewasahintofapromisethatonedayIwouldagainrisetospeakthegoodnessofHisname,andtherewascomfort,eveninmyashes.Therecurringmelodypulledmethoselastfewfeetintotheshelterthat

wasjustbeyondme.Iwaswarmandsafeanddry,eveninthemidstofhurting.

JustlikeFlashonthatcold,icynight.

Iwenttothewindow,whichwasnowglazedwithafinesheetofice.Throughit,Icouldseetheamberglowof

thestalllightsshiningthroughthedarknessandspillingontothefrozengroundbeyond.AndIknewinmyheartthatIwasbeingpulledcloseonceagain.

Psalm91:1-2says,

ThosewholiveintheshelteroftheMostHigh

willfindrestintheshadowoftheAlmighty.

ThisIdeclareabouttheLORD:

Healoneismyrefuge,myplaceofsafety;

heismyGod,andItrusthim.

ItuckedintightlyunderHisshadow.ChosetotrustinHiscare.LeanedintoHiscomfort.

Shelter.Sanctuary.Refuge.God’spresenceisalways

withus,evenwhenwecan’tfeelorseeHim.Evenwhenwecan’tunderstandourcircumstances.Andthough

wemighttryamillionotherwaystofillourvoidsandfindshelterfromourstorms,thereisnosubstitutefortherealthing.OnlyGodcanbeourtruesourceofrefuge.

Howmanytimesdowestandoutsideinthecoldwhenshelterissocloseathand?Sometimesallittakesisafewmoresteps—andthen

weareinHisarms,encircledinHiscareandcarriedbyHiscomfort.

Hehasallthefreshtowelsandblanketsweneed.

Knowwheretofindrefuge.TruesanctuaryisfoundinGodalone.

ItwasearlymorningwhenBridgettecalled.Aftertheformalchitchatabouthow-are-the-kids-and-how-is-Hay-soos(eyeroll),shegottoherpoint.

“I’vegotawonderfulopportunityforyourtalents,”shesaid.“Pleasepardonmyhuffingandpuffing.I’mtryingtogetmypowerwalkinwhileItalk.”

“Noproblem,”Ireplied.Iwasstillinmybathrobe,butthatwouldn’tkeepmefromdiscussingbusiness.Ipouredasecondcupofcoffeeandgrabbedachocolatechipcookie,thebreakfastofchampions.

ItseemedthatsheandStevehadbeenhiredtodesignandoverseethefinish-outofacorporatebuildingin

FortWorth,aprojectthatwouldincludearestaurantandcallcenter.

“Thiswouldbeper-fectforyouandTom,”Bridgetteremarkedwithenthusiasm.“It’sjustonebig,blankcanvas,andyourcreativitywillmakeitcometolife.Itneedscustomfinishes,artwork,signage,and

furniture.And,bytheway,we’dliketohireyoutoheaduptheFF&E.”

Bridgettecontinuedon,discussingissuesanddescribinghervisionforthespace,hereffusivevoicefillingmyear.ButIwasn’tfollowingit.Iwasstillstuckon“FF&E.”FF&E?Neverheardofit.Weretheyactualletters,orawordspelled

effeffeny?Ididn’twanttoappearfoolish,soIplayedalongwhileshethrewoutothertradeacronymssheobviouslyassumedIknew.IcaughtwhatIcouldandfuriouslyscribblednotessoIcouldlookthingsuplater.

“Wow,soundslikeagreatproject,”Isaidconfidently.“We’dlovetobepartofit!”Bridgette’senergyand

excitementwerecontagious,andsomehowevenheruseofinsideindustrytermsmademefeelreadytotakeontheworld.Ourmuralbusinesswasstillbumpingalong,andthiswasexactlythebreakwe’dbeenwaitingfor.Wesetatimetomeetatthebuildingsiteandthenhungup.

Myheartsank.Therealityofhavingtopresenttheideasinpersontotheclientsuddenlyhitme.WhatwasIthinking?Thisjobwaswaybeyondthescopeofanythingwe’deverdone,andIdidn’tunderstandevenhalfofwhatBridgettewastalkingabout.NotonlywasthisprojectgoingforwardinalanguageIdidn’tunderstand...Ialso

didn’thavethewardrobeforit.Yearsofpaintingbabynurseriesandcrampedbathroomshadhardlypreparedmeforeffeffeny,orwhateveritwas.Itsoundedsocorporateandprofessional.Thiswouldnotendwell,Ijustknewit.Mystomachturnedatthethought.

Meanwhile,Tomwascallingourplace“somekindofcircus,”andhewasn’ttoofaroffinhisassessment.Itseemedeveryanimalinthecountymadeitswayontoourpropertyatonetimeoranother:raccoonswhoregularlydinedonBeau’sdogfood,opossumswholovedpickingapartourtrash,micerunningamok,coyotes,

bobcats,snakes,straydogs

andcows...alllookingformischief,andtheyallseemedtofindus.

Infact,shortlybeforeFlashhadarrivedonthescene,wewereawakenedfromsleepbyfourloosehorsestraipsingthroughouryardatmidnight,followedbypeopleinpickuptruckswhoweretryingtoroundthemup.Maybeitwasthewhoops,

hollers,andblaringmusicthatspookedtherenegades,orperhapsitwasthespinningtires,orthesoundofbeerbottlesbeingthrown,orthecrazygunfireaimedskywardthatmadethehorsesrunwildlyincircles.Hardtotell.Allweknewwasthatlater,whenastraydonkeyshowed

up,itseemedlikejustanotheractinananimalcircusgoneawry.

Bythetimespringrolledaround,Flashhadbecomefriendswiththeratherlargeandcumbersomecattleinthenextpasture.Asweeducatedourselvesaboutdonkeys,welearnedtheyaresocialcreatureswhoarebestkeptwithotherdonkeys.

Unfortunately,thatwasnotanywhereinourbudget.Flashwouldhavetoflysoloforawhile.

Intheabsenceofanotherdonkey,theymightmakedowithacow,horse,sheep,orgoat.Anythingbutadog,atleastinFlash’scase.Dogs(andcoyotes)aredonkeys’naturalenemies,whichexplainedawholelotabout

FlashandBeau’schillyrelationship.Stillinabarking/kickingstandoffwithoneanother,eachdayfoundFlashatthebackfence,preferringtofraternizewiththefatbovinesontheothersidethanwithaslobbery,exuberantLab.Whilethecowsseemedmostlyindifferent—lyingdownorstandingwiththeirheads

throughthefenceforthe“better”grassonourside—Flashhungoutnearthemlikeacomfortableoldcompanion.

Thedayswerewarming,andtherewasaslow,easypacetolifeinthepasture.IwishedIcouldsaythesameforlifeonthe“people”sideofthefence.Thestreamofmaraudinganimalsonlycomplicatedthejugglingact

ofworkandfamily.Therewasnothinglikepickingupthecontentsofanoverturnedgarbagecanafteragangofraccoonshadpickedthroughit,whilestilltryingtomakeittotheday’sjobsiteontime.Countrylife,whilemuchprettierthansuburbanlife,takesawholelotmoreworktomaintain.

Finally,aweekendarrivedthatwasn’tfilledwithhockeygamesandtripstoHomeDepotforprojectsupplies.Wecouldcatchuponsomeofourownhoney-dosforachange.Istoodatthekitchensinkandplungedmyhandsintothesudsywatertotacklethepileofdishesfromthenightbefore.

Washingdishesdidn’tseemquitesobadwhenIhadtimetolookoutthewindowandwatchGraysonuntanglehisfishingpoleandsortthetackleboxinthefrontyard.Beaulaybesidehimandyawned,clearlyrelaxedbythesoundofspinners,jigs,andspoonersbeingorganizedinthehardplasticcontainer.Graysonclosedthelid,and

thelargedogsnappedtoattention,instantlyreadyforawalktothepondwithhisboy.

Poleovershoulder,tackleboxinhand,dogatside.ThankYou,God,forthis.

Ireachedforaplateanddunkeditintothewater,stillgazingthroughthewindow,pasttheyardtothewildflowersbeyond.

Suddenly,themomentwasinterruptedbythreegorgeoushorseswhoemergedfromthewoodsandtrottedintothefrontfield.Itwasasiftheymaterializedrightbeforemyeyes,StarTrekstyle.

Onceintheclearing,theyloweredtheirheadstograze,tailsswishingandmanestossing.Youngmales,theyexemplifiedequine

perfection:ablackhorsewithawhiteblazedownitsnose;achestnutwithwhitesocksandalong,darkmaneandtail;andapaintwithbrownandwhitemarkings.MydishscrubbingimmediatelyceasedasIleanedforwardtotakeinthestunningbeautyoftheseunexpectedanimals.

Asachild,I’dbeensohorse-crazythatIdrovemyparentsnuts.Daily,Iscouredthelocalnewspaperinsearchoftheperfecthorsetoputinourbackyard.IwassureI’dfindonethatlookedlikeLittleJoe’sonBonanza,abeautifulpaintthatwouldbemine,allmine.Ihaditallplannedout:Wewouldspendlazyafternoonstogether—me

braidinghistailandbrushinghimuntilhegleamed,andhimcarryingmeoverthecountrysideinfullgallop.IwouldbebeautifulandcourageousatopmysteednamedApache(Patchforshort).

Unfortunately,asapreacher’sfamily,welivedintown,andlaterwemovedtoMexicoCityasmissionaries

—soneitherlocationwassuitableforkeepingequines.MyfantasyofhavingahorsehadfadedintoquietwistfulnessasIgrewup,butseeingtheseanimalssuddenlyappearremindedmeofmylatentdesire.Toobadallwehaveisadustydonkey.

“Cometakealookatthis!”IcalledtoTomandMeghan,flingingsudsasI

motionedwithwethands.Theyhurriedtothewindowforapeekatourlatestfour-leggedguests.

“ThoseareRussell’shorses.”Tomidentifiedthematfirstglancewithalow,appreciativewhistle.“Aren’ttheysomething!”Hepausedforamomentinadmiration.“I’vegothisworknumber.I’llgivehimacalltolethim

knowthey’rehere.ButfirstI’llgetthemlockedupinourpastureforsafekeeping.”

Infinitelyeasierthancatchingonesmallishdonkey,Tomhandilycoaxedthethreehorsesintofollowinghisoat-filledbucket.Pieceofcake.Meghanopenedthegateastheyarrivedandquicklyshutitbehindthemwithaclangof

thechainonthemetalcrossbar.TomandMeghanreturnedtothehousesoTomcouldnotifytheowner.

“Russellcan’tgetherewithhistraileruntilafterwork,”Tomsaid,holdingabusinesscardwiththenumberscrawledonit.Hesethiscellphonedownand

continued.“LookslikeFlashwillgettohavecompanyfortherestoftheafternoon.”

“Thiscouldbeinteresting!Iwonderhowhe’llfeelaboutsharinghisspacewiththeseguys,”Iresponded.Islippedintoflip-flopsandheadedtothegatetoseewhatwouldhappen.

Andwhatasighttobehold.

Theafternoonsuncastagoldenglowoverthepastureandcreatedastorybooksceneinwhichthestallionstookcenterstage.Prancingandplaying,theyseemedtodanceeffortlesslyacrossthefield.Itwasahorseballet!

Thesunglistenedofftheirripplingmusclesastheytossedtheirheadsandgallopedthroughthetall

grass.Theirshapelylegscarriedthemaroundandaround,whiletheirmanesandtailsflowedoutbehindtheminrawbeauty.Thestrengthandperfectionofthesecreatureswasajoytowatch.Werestedourchestsagainstthegate,elbowsoutandafootonthelowestrung,andenjoyedtheshow.

Justthen,amovementfromthecornerofthepasturecaughtourattention.

Flash.Arrestedfromthespot

nearhisbelovedcowsbythissuddenintrusionoftheequines,heshookhislongearsasiftryingtowakehimselfup.Bendingaroundlikeacontortionisttoscratchhisrearendwithhisteeth,he

broughtabackfootupandsetitdownwithathud.Wewatchedhimflexhislipsasthenewcompany’sarrivalbegantoregisterinhisbrain.Heblinkedhisblacklashesuntilfinallyalert,thendidadoubletake.Flashlookedatthehorses,andthenbacktothecows.

Horses,cows.Horses.Cows.

Hmmm.Yep,horses.Definitely

horses.Andwithoutabackward

glance,heditchedthecowsforthenewcomers.

Justlikethat,thecowsweredeadtohim.Hetrottedovertomeethisnewposse.

Flash’ssparsemanebristledbackandforthashischoppygaitcarriedhimtothe

trio.Hepulledupnexttotheshinyblackleaderandraisedhisgiantheadingreeting.Thehorseturnedhisgracefulnecktoseetheshortdonkeyarriveandgaveasnort.Ha!Asifmotioningtohisfriends,henoddedtowardtheoppositeendofthepasture,andthethreewereoffinacloudofdustandhooves—onlythistimetheywere

followedbyFlash,wholookedhopelesslyoutgunnedandoutclassed.

Nexttothecows,Flashhadseemedlikearegalrulerofthelandscape.Hisintelligenteyesandquickwitendearedhimtothemindless,cud-chewingbovineswhokepthimcompanyeachafternoon.Butnow,withthearrivalofthethreeballerinos,

Flashsuddenlyhadsomeshortcomings,startingwithhisstature.Suchstubbylegs!Andhishead’sproportionwasconspicuouslyoutofwhack.Myword,sohuge!Andtheears—oh,theears.

ButFlashdidnotcare.Heshiftedintohighgearandheadedafterthegroup,nowcirclingatthefarendofthepasture.Buckingandbraying

ashewent,hejoinedupandfellintostepwiththeirshow.Theypausedathisarrival,decidingwhetherornottoletthisnewcomerenter.Please?Flashseemedtosaywithhisears,allforwardandhopeful.Someonewhinniedinreply.OneofthembrokerankandallowedFlashin.

Andinthatinstant,hewasoneofthem.

Thehorsespranced.Flashpranced.Thehorsesreared.Flashreared.Thehorsestossedtheir

manes.Flashtossed—well,tried

totoss—hismane.Thehorsesglistened.Okay.Flashdidn’t

glisten.Infact,hemagneticallycollectedallthe

kicked-updustintohisfuzzygraycoat.

Butnomatter.Flashwashavingthetimeofhislife.Hewheeledandturnedanddancedandcavorted.Hechasedandnuzzledandpawedandreared.Hewasridiculousinhisearnestness,buthewaspartofthehorse

ballet—andhislittleheartbeatfasterwitheachpliéandspin.

Flashhadburstintolife,andeveryequinecellinhisbodywasablaze.Thesoulofathoroughbredinthebodyofashaggydonkey.Whatapicture;whataday.Thiswasliving,andI’dneverseenhimlooksoendearing.Thesettingsunoutlinedhisformin

goldenfringeashispaceslowedtoagracefuladagioaroundthethreehorses.Circling,spinning,moving.Thecowslookedonindisbelief.Whathadhappenedtotheirquiet,unassumingfriend?Theyhardlyrecognizedhimwithhisnewairofconfidenceandall.

Eveningfelllikeagossamercurtainoverthefield,andRussellarrivedwithhisdualtruckandhorsetrailertoloadupthegorgeousguestsandtakethemhome.Withaslamofthetrailerdoorandaroarofdiesel,theyweregone,andFlashstoodatthegatewithearsprickedandtrembling.Hisnostrilsflared,andhissidesheavedashe

stifledhisbellows.Hewatchedthetrailerturnthecorneranddisappeardownthedriveway.Somethinghadhappenedtohimthatday,andevenheknewit.

Hewaschanged.Hewasbigger,stronger,

andmorepowerfulthanbefore.

Heshowedconfidence.Heheldhisheadhigher.

Hecarriedhimselfboldly.He’dbecomefearless.Andallbecausehe’drun

withhorses.Itwasasthoughhehad

suddenlyrealizedhisowngreatness.Asifsomeonehadtoldhimthatdonkeysandhorseswerenearlyidenticalingeneticmakeup.Thattheysharedthesamechromosomes—sixty-twoof

them,infact.Theonlydifferencebetweendonkeysandhorsesisanextrasetoftwochromosomesthathorsescarry.AnextrasetthatFlashdidn’tneedintheleast.

IthoughtaboutFlashandhisvisitorslongafterward.

Maybehe’dbeentoldallhislifethathe’dneveramounttoanythingbecausehelackedthetwounitsthat

wouldmakehimgreat.Maybehespentallhistimethinkingabouthowhismanedidn’tblowinthewindandhowhisgaitwasbumpyandhowsillyhe’dlookifhetriedrunning.Maybehe’dalwayscomparedhimselfwithhorsesandcomeupshorteverytime.Maybenobodyevertoldhimthathehas97percentofthesamechromosomesas

thosehorses...orthatthehorsesneededtwolesstobejustlikehim.

Maybenobodyevertoldhimthathehasallthechromosomesheneedstobeaperfectdonkey.

Iwonderedif,untilnow,Flashhadbeenfocusedonthetwohelacked,ratherthanonthesixty-twohehad.I

wonderedifhe’dtoldhimself,asIhad:IfonlyI’dfinishedmycollegedegree.

Iwonderedifhe’dsaid:I’mnottalentedenoughtorunwiththebigboys.Myearsaretoobig,myheadtooheavy,mylegstooshort,mybraytooloud.

Iwasn’tbornintomoney.Orlooks.Orspecialintelligence.

I’mnotgraceful.Ican’tprance.Idon’tglisten.

Idon’thavebusinesstraining.I’mtooold.IdriveanancientFordExplorer.Inevertookartlessons.

LookingathislackhadkeptFlashwiththecows—thoselackluster,mediocrecharacterswhosatandwishedforbettergrassandmoregumption.

OnceagainIfoundmyselfmirroredinthiswinsomedonkeyofmine.Butthistime,Isawwhatachangeofperspectivecoulddo.PerhapsIneededtostartfocusingonmysixty-two,ratherthanthetwo.Aw,Flash.You’reagenius.

Ofcourse,it’sonethingtothinksomethingandquiteanotherthingtoactuallydoit.TheprojectwithBridgettewasofficiallyunderway,anditimmediatelytestedmyfledglingsenseofempowerment.

“Bethereat1:00,”Bridgettetoldmeaswewrappedupanotherphonecallabouttheinteriordesign

ofthespace.“We’llbeintheconferenceroom,andI’vegivenyouthirtyminutesontheagendatomakeapresentationtotheboardandthecontractors.”

Ohdear.ThatwouldhavebeenagoodmomenttotellBridgettethatIhaveadebilitatingfearofspeakinginconferenceroomstoboardsandcontractors.Also

togroupsoftwoormore.It’sthisthingwheremythroatclosesupandmymouthgetsalldryandmyvisiongoesblurry,justbeforeIblackout.IbrieflyimaginedwhatitwouldbeliketohitmyheadonthetableasIwasgoingdownandthenbelaidupinahospitalwithaskullinjuryforseveralweeksandonlybeabletoeatJell-Oforevery

meal.ThesilverlininginthatwholescenariowasthatIwouldn’thavetomakemypresentation,andalsoImightpossiblylosefivepoundsandnothavetowearfauxSPANXtoweddings.

IwishedI’dsaidallthat,rightthenandthere.ButBridgettewassopersuasiveandcharmingthatforamomentIfeltallconfident,

andIletmyselfgetsweptupinherenergy.Idanced,justalittlebit,anditfeltgood.ButmaybeIshouldcallherbackandtellherI’dmadeahugemistakeandwouldnotbeabletomakeittothemeetingonaccountofmyillness,orperhapsabrokenleg.Icouldprobablyarrangeanaccident,oratleastmakeafakecast.

I’mgoodatcrafts.Anythingtogetoutofthiswholeloomingeffeffenycatastrophe.

No.Ihadtogothroughwiththis.AnditwasthenthatIdecided,shakily,torunwithhorses.Enoughwiththecows.Iwantedtotryglisteningforonce.

Butitwouldtakesomework.

Ifoundadraftingtableonacurbsidefortwenty-fivedollars,andTomclearedaspotforitintheloftthatoverlooksthebackroom.Wemovedanoldcomputer,broughtinsomelamps,andputachairinplace.IboughtaportablefilingboxandstartedmakinggooduseofInternetsearches,startingwith“FF&E”:Furniture,

Fixtures,andEquipment.Aha!Sothat’swhatit

means!I’minchargeofprocuringfurniture,fixtures,andequipment!Ispentaninordinateamountoftimesearching“HowtoGiveaWinningPresentation”and“FearofPublicSpeaking.”Imadeatriptothedepartmentstoreforsomeappropriatebusinessattire(30percent

off)andpickedupabriefcaseatthethriftshop.IaskedforPhotoshophelpfromourkids.Ibecamefamiliarwitharchitecturaldrawings.Hairhighlightswouldhavetowait—rats!

ButIwasready.AndIgotdowntobusiness.TomandIbothduginandcameupwithideasthatstretchedus,madeuscreatenewkinds

ofart,andcausedustoseejusthowmuchwecoulddooncewestoppedfocusingonwhywecouldn’tdoit.

Andeventhoughyoucouldsaywe’dalreadytakenourshareofchancesalongtheway(i.e.,ditchingregularjobsforadreamyartisticone),we’dalsoletourselvesgetcomfortableinthetypesofprojectswewentfor.The

kindsofclientswethoughtweweregoodenoughfor.Thejobsthatdidn’trequiremakingpresentationsandproposalsondesignboardsinconferenceroomstoimportantpeople.We’dgottenpassiveinourapproachandforgottenthepowerofputtingourselvesoutthereonabiggerstage.Weplayedsmall.Safe.

We’dcountedthetwochromosomeswelackedasmoreimportantthanthesixty-twowehad,andithadkeptusinaplaceofmediocrity.

Flashhadusbeatbyamile.

Yousee,whensomeoneopensagateandgivesyouashotatrunningwithhorses,thechoiceisyours.Youcan

staywhereyou’reat—comfortable,unchallenged,andwishingyourlifeaway—oryoucanstepforwardanddecidethatthisisyourmoment.Youcandanceonyourstubbylittlelegsandcollecteveryoneelse’sdustandmaybelookfoolishdoingit.Butyou’redoingit!That’sthepoint.Youfindyourthoroughbredheartinthere

somewhere,andyoutakethechance.Youchooseit.Andyourunwithit.

“As[aman]thinksinhisheart,soishe,”saysProverbs23:7(NKJV).Iwonderhowmanylimitsyou’veputonyourselfbysimplythinkingincorrectly.Byfocusingonpastfailures,allthegiftsandtalentsyouthinkyoudon’thave,andtheabilitiesyou

believeeveryoneelsehas,youkeepyourselfinapositionofnotbeingreadywhenopportunitycomesknocking.Youchoosecowsoverhorsesbecausecowsaresafeandacceptingandthinkyou’rereallyawesome.It’ssosweet.Buttheykeepyoubythefence,watchinglifefromthesidelines.Chewingcud,offeringopinions,andgiving

commentaryontheoneswhoareouttheregettingsomethingdone.

Youdon’teverdoanythingthatmakesyourheartraceoryourpalmsgetsweaty,orthatinvolvestheriskofhittingyourheadonthewaydown.Youstaybusyandworkhardandneverhavetoconsiderthatyou’relivinginfearofbeingyourbestself.

Runningwithhorses,ontheotherhand,meansthatyouhavetofaceyourfears.Thefearoflookingfoolish,thefearoffailingbig,thefearofspeakinginpublic,oflearningnewsoftware,ofgoingbeyondyourcomfortzoneintotheunknown.Maybeeventhefearofyourownsuccess.Itmeansthatyoucountyoursixty-twoas

enoughforthetaskandthensetyourheartonexcellence—beingthebestyoucanbe.

Runningwithhorsesisrisky.AndIadmiredFlashforhispluckydecisiontouphisgame.Itinspiredmetoriskblackingoutduringmypresentationandtochoosewide-leggedtrouserssonoonewouldseemykneesknock.Yes,myvisionwasa

littleblurry,andmymouthwentdry,butsomehowIsurvivedmythirtyminutesinthatconferenceroom.Ididn’trememberanythingaboutitafterward,andthat’sbesidethepoint.Imayhaveevendrooledalittlebit.Ican’tthinkaboutthat.

Here’swhatmatters.Icametoseehowonesinglefear,thefearofpublic

speaking,keptmefrommovingforwardinmyprofessionalandpersonallife.Howmanywayscanapersonavoidleadingagroupdiscussionorteachingaclassormakingapresentation?I’dcomeupwithahundreddifferentonesthroughoutmylifeinordertogivemyfear,onesetoftwochromosomes,abiggerplacethanthesixty-

two.Anditkeptmefromdoingmybestwork,becausenooneevergetsaskedtopresentmediocreideas.

Idecidedtochangeallofthat.Iwouldnolongerletfearbethereasontosaynotosomething.Iffearwastheonlythingthatstoodbetweenmeandanewopportunity,thentheanswerwouldhavetobeyes.(Jumpingoutof

airplanesnotwithstanding.)AndIwoulduseexcellenceasmyweaponofchoicetodefeatthefearthatwantedtoparalyzeme.Ratherthanfocusingonthefearitself,I’dfocusondoing—andbeing—excellentinmyapproach.I’dmakethemostofmysixty-twoandrunwiththosehorses.Whateverhappenednext,well,I’ddealwithit.

Excellence—goingtheextramile,learningallyoucan,doingthingsbetterthanyouthoughtyoucould—bringsconfidencethattrumpsfear.Itopensupdoorsandcreatesopportunitiesthatmediocrityandfearnevercan.Anditworksoneverylevel—notjustinbusiness.

Whatwouldhappenifwestoppedfearinghavingadysfunctionalfamilyandsimplyfocusedonhavinganexcellentfamilylife?Ifwestoppedwishingwe’dhaddecentrolemodelsandjustbecameonesourselves?

Imagineifwequitworryingaboutlosingweightandfocusedinsteadonbeinginexcellenthealth.We’d

choosefoodsandmakelifestylechoicesthatwouldenergizeussowecouldrockourworlds.

Whatif,ratherthanbemoaningalackofdeepfriendshipsinourlives,weworkedatbeingexcellentfriendstoothers?

Ratherthanlettingourselvesbeconvincedthatwearen’tsmartenoughfor

thatjobpromotionorthatdegree,whatifwefocusedongainingtheskillsandknowledgetomakeithappen?

Insteadofsittingatthebackoftheroomwherewecan’tbenoticed,whatifwefoundseatsatthefrontandraisedourhandstoaskquestions?

Orratherthanwishingwewerebornwithartisticgenes,whatifwepickedupapaintbrushorcameraandfoundthatcreativeskillscanbelearned?Maybewe’llneverbePicassosorAnselAdamses,butitdoesn’tmatter.Wecanachievefarmorebydoingthanbysimplywatching.

Doingmakesyoutryharder,reachfurther,andachievemorethanyouthoughtyoucould.Actionpropelsyoutowardexcellenceandmakestheimpossible—possible.

Yes,whenyourunwithhorses,youruntheriskofstumblingandlookingfoolish....Butoh,whatawaytogo.Thereisgreatness

insideofyou,lookingforachancetoburstintolifeandkickupsomedust.Youwillbestretchedandchallengedandpushedbecausethebarhasbeenraised.You’llhavetoreachdeeptofindwhat’sinsideyou.

Butyouareuptoit.Rememberyoursixty-two.

Thesixty-twothatmakeyoutheperfectdonkey.

JustlikeFlash.Justlikeme.

Runwithhorses.Thepursuitofexcellenceconquersfear.

Flash’ssociallifewaslookingup.Notlongafterhismomentousdancewiththeeleganthorses,somenewpeoplemovedintotheranchbehindus.AportionoftheirsprawlinglandabuttedthenorthendofFlash’spastureononeside,whilethecows’fenceborderedthesouthend.Thisarrangementgavethe

ever-curiousFlashaperfectvantagepointtoseewhatwasgoingonaroundhim.

Oneday,wenoticedsomehorsesgrazinginthenorthpasture.Flashnowhadhispickofwhomhe’dliketospendhislazyafternoonswith—thehorsesorthecows.Iwasn’tsurprisedathis

decision;Flash’snewfoundconfidencemadehimallysquarelywiththehorses.

“ThiswillhavetosatisfyFlash’ssocialneedsfornow,”Tomsaidashewatchedthemtouchnosesoverthefence.“I’malittlerelieved,actually.Allthebenefitsofhavingmoreanimalswithouttheworkandexpense.”

Flashwashappyascouldbewiththisnewarrangement.Heliftedhispliableupperliptoshowhisteeth,rockinghisheadfromsidetosideingreeting.Diditbotherhimthathehadaleafbetweenhisfrontteeth?Nope.Notintheleast.Hejustsmiledaway,fullyconfidentoftheeffectofhisdonkeycharmonthe

maresnextdoor,whoseemedamusedbutthoroughlyunimpressed.

“Honey,letmehelpyoufinishloadingthetruck,”Ioffered,grabbingaplasticbinfilledwithpaintsandbrushes.TomwasdepartingforaworkmarathontocompletetheinstallationoftheartforBridgette’scorporateproject.Itlookedlikeitwasgoingto

takeanall-nightertomeetthedeadline.BridgetteandStevehadchampionedourskillsandconvincedtheprojectmanagersthatwecouldnotonlycreateandinstallcustomartworkbutalsodesignsignageandwayfindingforthespacesaswell.

Aswehadsuspected,thejobwasindeedbeyondourpreviousexperience,andit

requiredsomeon-the-jobtrainingtopullitoff.Butthescopeoftheprojectmadeusfindsometalentwedidn’tknowwe’dhad.Weleanedonourdaughterandnewson-in-lawtogiveusthosecrashcoursesinPhotoshopandlearnedgraphicdesignaswewentalong.Themediumwasnew,buttheprinciplesandtheskillswe’dhonedover

yearsofcreatingmuralartwerethesame.Therewasanexcitementtothework—asink-or-swimfeelingthatcarriedusthroughtheweeksofdesignandinstallation.Wewere,indeed,runningwithhorses.

Thatnight,wehaddecidedtodivideandconquertheworkload,soIstayedatourhomeofficeandpoured

myselfanextracupofcoffeetoworkonsomelast-minutedrawingsthatwereneeded.By1:00a.m.,Iwasblearybutdeterminedtofinish.

Then,withoutwarning,thebrightredandbluelightsofasquadcarpiercedthedarknessoutsidethewindow.MyheartstoppedforasecondasIassessedthesituation.Nocarseverdrive

upourremotedrivewaylateatnight,letaloneapolicevehicle!Thiscouldnotbegood.Ipeeredthroughtheglassastwosheriff’sdeputieshoistedthemselvesoutofthefrontseatandcameupthewalk.

“Howdy,ma’am,”oneofthemensaidasIopenedthedooracrack.InmymindIcouldseetheheadline

—“WomanSlainbyPhonySheriffsOvernight”—followedbyastorywithasternwarningtowomentonotopentheirdoorsforjustanyonewhoflashesabadge.

Asifoncue,theofficersflashedtheirbadges,andIfeltcertaintheywereprobablymurderers—butIwentaheadandopenedthedoorwidertogetitoverwith.

ThetwomenwereexactlywhatyoumightpictureTexascountysheriff’sdeputieslookinglike:imposingandserious,withcrewcuts,andwithbuildsthathintedatbothweightliftinganddoughnuts.Theirstarcheduniformswerepulledtautacrosstheirchests,andsuddenlyIfeltmorethreatenedbyanimpendingbuttonpop-offthantheColt

.45sintheirholsters.Plus,theircarlookedsomewhatlegitwiththelightsandall.

“Sorrytobotheryou,ma’am,”theleaddeputysaid.“I’llcutrighttothechase.”Hepausedforamoment.“Uh,youownadonkey?”

Sir,you’repullingupatthishour,withlightsflashing,toaskmeifIownadonkey?

Justthen,apickuptruckroaredupthedrivewayandcametoastopbehindthesquadcar.Twovehiclesinonenight?Thiswassomekindofrecord.Thetruckdoorburstopen,andoutstumbledaman,awaftofbeerandstalecigarshangingonhim.

“Yes,yes,Ido,”Ireplied,narrowingmyeyesandthinkingwhatagoodsetupthiswas.Thefakeofficersdisarmmewiththeirbadgeswhilethebosspullsuptofinishthejob.Iwasagoner,forsure.IfonlyI’dhadtimetoleaveanoteforthekids.

“Well,thisgentlemanhere,”saidthedeputy,motioningoverhisshoulder,

“saysyougotaproblemonyourhands.”

Ilookedquestioninglyovertothenewguy,whosteppedforward,apparentlytotellmeallaboutit.ItwasthenthatIwonderedaboutajusticesysteminwhichsomekindof“donkeyproblem”isdeemedgreaterthanthefactthatthismanmayhavedrivenundertheinfluencetoinform

meinperson.Whatkindofsocietyisthis,anyway?Andwhyaren’ttheofficersarrestingthisman?

“Yoredonkey...,”heslurred,pointinghisfingerinmyface.“Yoredonkeygotupintomycorralandgotatmymare.I’dbeenkeepin’herawayfrommystallions,andthenyoresorrylittledonkeybrokeinandgotto

her.”Heswayedtowardmeandcontinued.“Yeah,hegottoher,allright.BythetimeIfigureditoutandfound’em,theywaslayin’down,smokin’acigarette.Thedeedhadbeendone.”

Iblinkedathiminhorrorashecappedoffhisstory.“Lady,yoregonnahaveababymuleonyorehands,’causethat’swhatyouget

whenyoucrossadonkeywithahorse.Ababymule!”Hekickedatsomegravelindisgustandlethiswordshangintheair.

TherewasanawkwardpauseasIstruggledforanappropriateresponse.SomethingaboutFlashbeingan“immature”maleandincapableofprocreation.Somethingabouthowhewas

tooyoungforthiskindofmonkeybusiness.Wait.Hadmaturityhappenedwhilewe’dbeenuptoournecksinournewproject,notpayingattentiontothepassageoftimeandadolescence?Uh-oh.

Thedeputyclearedhisthroatandasked,“Yougonnagogethimtonightthen?”

Iturnedtohimandsaid,“Tonight?Ican’tdraghimhomeinthemiddleofthenight!Can’tthiswaituntilmorning?The‘deed’hasbeendone,sowhat’sthehurry?”Also,Iwasinmyslippers.

Thedeputylookedattheman.Thehorseownershrugged,thefightsuddenlygoneoutofhim.Hegotback

inhistruck,slumpedbehindthesteeringwheel,andsaidoutthedoor,“Justgethimtomorrow;it’salreadytoolate.”

Morningdawned,andTomfellintobed,exhaustedfromtheall-nightartinstallation.Idecidedrightthentodeal

withthedonkeysituationonmyown,soIkeptquietaboutFlash’sescapade,tuckedTomin,andtiptoedout.Iwouldneedtools,soIheadedforthelocalfeedstore.

“Givemethelargesthalteryou’vegot,”Isaidtotheladyattheregister.Islappedmyhanddownonthe

counterandlookedaroundthejointlikeIknewwhatIwasdoing.

“Sure.Whatchagot,aheftyBelgian?”sheasked,snappinghergumandindicatinghisheightwithherhandoverherhead.

Isighed.“No.No,justasmallishdonkey...withagigantichead.”Iheldmyhandchest-high.“I’vegotto

gethimhomefrommyneighbor’shouse,soI’llneedsomeoatsandaleadropeaswell.”

Justthen,mycellphonerang.ItwasmyfriendPriscilla.SheandIhadmetafewyearsearlierwhenshe’dfoundmybusinesscardandhiredmetopaintherbaby’snursery.Wehititoffimmediatelyandspentso

muchtimetalkingwitheachotherthattheone-weekjobtookaboutthreeweekstocomplete.Ourdifferencesinage,vocation,ethnicity,andlifeseasondidn’tmatteronebitaswesatonthatnurseryroomflooranddreamedupabeautifulspaceforthenewbaby.

Later,eventhoughIhadretreatedintomyworkandfamilyresponsibilities,shekeptafterme.Gradually,throughherdeterminedefforttobreakthroughmywallofbusyness,webecamerealfriends,andovertimeIhadcometocountherasfamily.Shenowhadtwobabiesintow,andIhopedtoconvinceherthatsheandherhusband

neededtomovetothecountrytoraisetheirfamily.Ithoughtahouseonourquietroadwouldbeaperfectplaceforthem.

“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked.Istartedtogiveherthelowdown,butbeforeIcouldfinish,shesaid,“I’monmyway,”andhungup.Priscillawasalwaysupforanadventure,andwhatbetter

waytoinitiateherintocountrylifethantochasedownaloosefarmanimal?

TheAugustairwasstiflingbythetimewedonnedtennisshoesandgotourselvesorganized.Itwasgoingtobeahotone.Accompaniedbythedeafeningsoundofcicadasoverhead,PriscillaandImadeourwaytothepasture’s

backgate,whichhadbeenrippedfromitshingesbymypreciouslittledonkey.Mercy!

Wewalkedfarthertofindabrokenfencepost,wiresdangling.Alittlefarther,andanotherbrokenfence.Dearme.IdreadedtoseewhatkindofstateFlashwouldbeinafterallthis.Wefinallyfoundhimholedupinthecorralnexttohisladylove,

beatupfromhisnightofchargingthroughbarbedwirefencesandfoistinghisaffectionuponher.

Justonelookathimtoldmehewasnotgoingtocomeeasily.Hehadthesamehardeneddonkeystareasthefirstnightwe’dfoundhim—“Makeme,”itsimplysaid.

Sowehalteredhimupandstartedcoaxing.

Flashwouldhavenoneofit.Andwhocouldblamehim?Theleggymarehe’dfallenforwasadorable.Chocolatebrownincolorwithablackmaneandtail,shewasanexoticvixen,andhewasalovesickdonkey-boy.Hewashopelessly,madly,genuinelyinlovewithher.She,ontheotherhand,wasnotsomuchinlovewith

himbutclearlyinlovewithbeingadored.Withherheadtossingandhoovesprancing,sheacceptedthislopsidedrelationshipwithherbodylanguage.ThatwasallFlashneededtosee;hewasfullycommittedtomakingthetenuousbondwork.Now,withheadlowandblubbering

lipspulledback,hesullenlybrayedhisoppositiontoourmissiontomovehim.

Flashrefusedtoleavehisgirlfriend,whomwenowcalled“Maria,”afterthefemaleleadinWestSideStory.Attheprospectofbeingforcedapart,shedecidedshe’dmakeitworkaswell.Mariawhinniedathimandpacedbackandforth

inhercorralasweinchedhimawayfromher.Hoursofpushing,pulling,cajoling,entreating,andofferingtreatsyieldedonlylimitedprogress.Wewerestillontheneighbor’sproperty,justhalfwaytothebackgate,andstandingatanimpasseintheblisteringsun.

“We’vetriedeverything,”Priscillasaid,wipingtheperspirationfromherforehead.“Theonlythingwehaven’ttriedisdroppingtheropetoseeifhe’llcomeonhisown.”Sheremindedmethat,undernormalcircumstances,Flashfollowsusaroundlikeapuppydog.Hecan’tstandtobeleftbehind.

“True,”Isaid,unconvincedbutwillingtotryanythingatthispoint.“Wemightaswellgiveitago.Whatdowehavetolose?”

Sowedroppedtheropeandturnedtoheadbacktoourplace.Wetookteenylittlepretendsteps,glancingoverourshoulderstoseewhatFlashwoulddo.

“Andwe’rewalkingaway.We’rewalking,andwe’releaving...”Inarratedourmovementsforgoodmeasure,justincaseFlashdidn’tnoticethatwewereleavinghim.

“Andwe’rewalking...”Toouramazement,he

thoughtaboutitforonlyamoment,thenpickeduphis

smallhoovesandfollowed.Onhisown.Nocarrot,nostick.Justfollowed.

Iguessaslongashethoughtitwashisownidea,hewaswillingtocooperate.

Flashsteppednonchalantlybehindustheremainingdistance,asifwewereoutonaSundaystroll.Perhapsheknewitwassimplytimetogohome.Or

perhapshewasplottinghisreturn.Whateverthecase,wehurriedlyjury-riggedthegateinplacebehindus,andPriscillastoppedtoadmirethestrengthanddeterminationithadtakentobreakitdowninthefirstplace.“Wow,thatguysurefoundhispassion.Heknewwhathewantedanddidn’tletanythingstandinhisway,”

shecommented.“I’dneverhavebelieveditifIhadn’tseenitwithmyowneyes.”

Likeheknewweweretalkingabouthim,Flashseemedtoshrughisnarrowdonkeyshoulderswithmodestyandloweredhisheadintothegrasstomunchaway,hisforayintoromanceoverwithfornow.Beautrottedouttoofferhisopinion

aboutFlash’sescapade,barkinghismoralindignationfrombehindourlegs,butFlashsimplyignoredthecriticism.

PriscillaandImadeourwaybacktothehouseforsomesweetteaandair-conditioning,relievedtohaveFlashbackinthefoldwherehebelonged.Ipulledtwoglassesfromthecupboard,

thenfoundapenandhastilyscrawled“findyourpassion”onanoldenvelopethatwassittingonthecounter.IthoughtImightliketomuseaboutitlater,butofcourseIpromptlyforgotaboutit.Forquiteawhile.

Butthefunnythingaboutwritingsomethingdown,evenifyouforgetthatyoueverwroteit,isthatthe

messagestayswithyoulongafterward.Theenvelopeeventuallywentthewayofgatheredtrash,yetthementalnoteattachedtoitfollowedmearoundandturnedupinoddmoments.Middleofthenight.Halfwaythroughashower.Drivingtothehomeimprovementstore.

“Findyourpassion.”

Flashhadcertainlyfoundhispassion.Therewasasheriff’sreport(andabrokengate)toproveit.I’dpicturedhismidnightrendezvouswiththeprettylittlemareasahumorousanecdotetotellataparty,anicebreakerofastorythatwassuretogetalaugh.Flashwasexceedingourexpectationsasaconversationpiece,andIfelt

reallyproudofhimforthat,evenifthecircumstanceswereabitsketchy.

Butthatnotestuckwithme.

DidIhaveapassionbigenoughtopursuewiththesamedoggeddeterminationFlashhad?Itwaskindofadauntingthought,especiallywhensomuchofmylifeseemedmuddledandunclear.

AsIcouldseeit,Ihadseveralpassions,allcompetingformyattentionandnotnecessarilyworkingtogetherinonebeautiful,synergisticpurposeasIimaginedtheyshould.

Perhapsmakingalistwouldhelp.Ibroughtoutmynotebook,turnedtoafreshpage,andpaused.Finally,Iwrote,

MyPassions—RachelRidge

(Alwayswriteyournameatthetop.)

1.Faith—mycorebeliefs

IputthisonefirstbecauseIfiguredthat’swhatgoodChristiansaresupposedtodo.IrememberedsittinginSundayschoolandseeingcirclesdrawnonanoverheadprojectorimage,withthecentercirclebeingJesusChrist,andthelargercirclesarounditrepresentingotherpartsofyourlife,almostlikeripples.Totallymadesense.

Yes,thisshouldbethefirstthingIlist,eventhoughIsortofthinkitoughttogowithoutsaying.Butitwouldfeelfunnytoleaveitoff.Orwouldit?

IimaginedthosecirclesagainandwonderedwhatwouldhappenifItookfaithoutofthecenter.WhatwouldIputinitsplace?Suddenly,seeinglifewithoutamoral

compassandanabidingrelationshipwithGodatitscorelookedlikeahopelessabyss.IfIthoughtlifewasmuddledandconfusedbefore,nowitwouldbecompletelyimpossible.

Truthfully,asoflateitfeltmorelikeavaluethanapassion,butwhenpushcametoshove,ifthedefinitionforpassionwassomethinglike

“strongenergyoremotionthatcompelsyou,”thenfaithwouldqualify.Iwasstillabitunclearabouthowitshouldactuallylook(i.e.,ifIweretrulypassionate,shouldn’tIbeinfull-timeservice?).ButIkeptitatthetopandmovedontonumbertwo.Maybethislittleexercisewouldleadmetotheanswer.

2.Myfamily

Thisonewaseasy.Ifoundthispassionthedaywebroughtourfirstbabyhomefromthehospitalandbecameafamilyunit.IlayonthebednexttothemostperfectpinkbundleI’deverseen,andIknewinstantlythateverythingwasdifferent.AsI

smoothedthetinyrufflesonthedressherdaddyhadboughther,IvowedtobethebestmotherIcouldpossiblybe.Iwouldloveandcherishher,leadandprotecther—andthebabiesthatwouldcomeafterher—nomatterwhat.

Passionburstintoflameandcoloredeverylifedecisionafterward:wherewe

wouldlive,whatwewoulddo,whatkindsoffoodwe’deat,howwe’dspendourtimeandmoney.Parentingwasn’tahobbyorpassingfancy.Ittookcenterstageasapassionworthpursuing,eventhroughthesetbacks(likeforgettingtopickupakidfromschoolonhisfirstdayofsixthgrade,losingpatiencewithwhining

toddlersandteenagers,andwantingtorunoutthedoorattimes).

Deepinmyheart,Iwantedtomakeourhomeanunforgettableplace.Aplacethatwouldgroundourkidsforlife,makethemfeelloved,andgivethemasenseofbelonging.Iwantedourhomeandfamily,howeverimperfect,tobeasanctuary.

3.Creating—makingartandstuff

(Idecoratedthispointwithdoodlesforemphasis,andalsobecauseIdoodlewhenIthinkhard.)

AndhereiswhereFlash’spursuitofhispassionreallyspoketome.Itwasonthelevelofthatoutsidecircle

usedintheoverheadprojectorimage,thatpartofmethatlookedbeyondthe“donedeals”offaithandfamilyandwonderedaboutthingslikeinterestsandpurposeand,Idon’tknow,experiencingjoy.Ithoughtbacktoseventhgrade,whenmyjourneytodiscoveringa

passionforcreatingartdiedasuddendeathbeforeitevenhadachancetolive.

Itwasmyfirstdayofartclass—theelectiveI’dbeenwaitingforeversinceseeingthethrownpotteryjugs,papier-mâchéfigures,andcharcoalstilllifesondisplay

inthehallwaysofmyjuniorhigh.“MakeArt,”saidthesignabovethem,andIknewinmyheartthatIwasborntodojustthat.I’dalwayslovedcolorsandnatureandcrayonsandglue.TothinkIwouldfinallygettotakearealartclass!Ihadalreadypicturedablueribbonhangingfromone

ofmypaintingsinthehallwayandawrite-upintheschoolnewspaper.

Weperchedonstools,oureaselsarrangedinasquarefacingatableinthecenteroftheroom.Alargeclayvasewasplacedonthetable.Wewereinstructedtopickupourpencilsanddrawthe

containerwithoutlookingatthepapersecuredtooureasels.

“Thisiscalledblindcontourdrawing,”saidMr.Hastings,theartteacher.“Itisessentialtoeverythingelsewewilllearninthisclass.Begin.”Heabruptlysatdownathisdesk,openedabook,andleftustoourwork.

Alltheotherkidsbroughttheirpencilsupandbegantodraw,steadfastlystaringatthevasewithoutglancingattheirpapers.Iheardthesoundofcharcoalpointsonmanila,stoollegssqueakingonindustrialtilefloors,thetickingofthelargeclockabovethedoor.AndIfroze.Thevaseswambeforeme.Myheartbegantopound,and

Ifeltmyskinstarttoflush.MyhandshookasIlookedatthelipofthevaseandtriedtomakemyhandfollowitssimpleshape.

ButIcouldn’thelpit:Ipeekedatthepaperbeneathmypencilandwasappalledatthemisshapenformburgeoningthere.Ierasedandstartedover,butthehorrificmesswasstillvisible,

nowhalf-smearedandhalf-erased.Walkingtothesupplyareafornewpaper,Inoticedtheincrediblesuccessmyclassmateswereenjoyingintheirveryfirstattempts.

Twicemoretothesupplycabinetforfreshpaper.Stillamess.Astheothersbegantofinishtheirmasterpiecesonebyone,theclassroomchattergotlouderandmore

distractinguntilIsimplygaveuptryingtoconcentrateandpretendedtojoininthebanter.

Thebellrang,andtheroomemptied.IgatheredmybooksandstoodnexttoMr.Hastings’desk.PerhapsifIcouldgetalittlehelp,oratleastaquickpointer,I’dbeabletofigureitout.Ilookedatthecollagesdisplayedjust

overhisshoulderandcouldn’twaittomoveontothose!Thewaythecolorsandshapesmeldedtogethertocreatespectacularscenesmademepracticallygiddywithexcitement.Butfirst,Ineededassistance.

“Younglady,”Mr.Hastingssaidashescowledatmeoverhisglassesinresponsetomyrequest,“if

youcan’tdothisfirstsimplelesson,thenIsuggestyoudroptheclass.Youhavenobusinessbeinghere.”

Ifeltmyheartdropintomyshoes.Embarrassed,ashamed.Mortifiedbyhisindifferentjudgment.“But,I...”Istammered,buthewasalreadybacktoreading,theconversationfinished.Icouldfeelmyeyesfillupandthe

roomtilt.Withonelast,longingglanceatthecollages,Iclosedthedoor—notjustontheclass,butonanythingcreative.Anythingartsy.Certainlyanythinginvolvingpencilandpaper.Hewasright:Ihadnobusinessbeingthere.IwasafailurebeforeIhadevenstarted.Iwascrushed.

Thevividdetailsofthatmoment,downtothesmellsofoilpaints,turpentine,andpotteryslurry,becamefixedinmymemory.Ilearnedtoavoidcreativeprojectsofanykind—andIwatchedfromthesidelinesasclassmatesmadescenicsetsforplays,historydioramas,andcoolcollages.Iwouldinsteadfocusmyattentiononhomeec,which

itturnedoutIwasalsoterribleat.ButitwastheelectiveItookinplaceofart—sopractical,sosensible—andIwouldnotpickupapaintbrushuntilIwaswellintomythirties.

HowIwishnowthatMr.Hastingshadtakenjustthreeminutesofhistimetoencouragemetostickwithit.Totellmethatthewhole

pointoftheexercisewasnotperfection,butpractice.Togentlysay,“Iseeyouhaveahungerformakingthings.Letmeshowyouwhatyoucando.”

Ittookmemorethantwodecadestorediscovermychildhoodpassionandreachaconclusionthathecouldhaveeasilypointedoutinthosemomentsafterclass.“Make

Art”meanssomuchmorethanblindcontourdrawing.Itmeans“CreateSomethingBeautiful.”Therearehundredsofformsofart—mostofwhichdon’trequirepencilandpaper—andunlimitedwaystocreatemeaningful,beautifulthingsthatpeoplewillappreciateandtreasure.ButIdidn’t

knowthat,couldn’tknowthat,becausethedoorwasclosedtomethatday.

Ilostsomethingimportantinonesinglemoment.Abudding,vibrantlightwassnuffedout.Andittookthreekids,anoverworkedhusband,andadesperatedesiretofindsomethingIcouldenjoyformetofinditagain.Isignedupforatolepaintingclassin

alocalcraftstore,simplyasawaytogetoutofthehouseforacoupleofhoursaweek.Butwithonedipofthebrushintopaint,somethinginmysoulsparkedbacktolife.

AndsoIhadfoundathirdpassion:“CreatingSomethingBeautiful.”OrasIlikedtocallit,“MakingArtandStuff.”Itwaslikecominghome.Ididn’tplanontrying

tomakeacareeroutofit.IjustneededtoholdthingsinmyhandsthatIhadmade.ThatIhaddecorated.ThatIhadmadebeautiful.

Anditwaswondrous.

Whew.Itookabreakfromallthatthinkingandwenttothebarn.Flashstoodunderthe

shadeoftheslopingrooflikeadonkeystatue.Perfectlystill,exceptfortheoccasionalswishofthatwispytail.Hiseyeswerehalf-closedandhisearsdroopeddownward,indicatingthatitwasnaptime,nodoubthisthirdoftheday.

Withaclickofmytongue,hisheadcameupandhisnostrilsbegantowork.

Earsturnedforward.Henickeredsoftly.Flashwaitedformyapproach,thenslowlyrubbedhisheadonmeasIreachedaroundtoscratchthewarmpatchunderneathhismane.Thescabsfromthebarbedwirewerestillvisible,remindersofhisdedicatedquestthroughfencesforhis

mare.Icouldseewhyshe’dcomearoundandfallenforhim!

Passionislikeamagneticforcethatdrawsothersin.Itsenergynotonlycompelsyoutoactbutalsoelicitsaresponsefromeverythingaroundyou.IpulledafewburrsfromFlash’smaneandlookedintohisbrowneyes,stillsleepyfromhis

interruptednap.Hedidn’texactlylooklikeamagneticforceatthemoment,butitwaslikeheknew.Hisdeterminationspokevolumes,anditmademestarttofiltermyscatteredthoughtsintosomethingconcrete.Somethingthatmadesenseandfeltright.

Therewasonelastthingtoaddtomylist,butIdidn’tknowquitehowtowordit:

4.Helpingothersfindandcreatesanctuary

Istartedtorealizethatmystruggletofindpeaceandbeautyinthemiddleofallmybusynesswasn’tuniqueto

me.OtherscravedthesamethingsIdid.ItseemedlikeeachprojectTomandIworkedonhadanunderlyingtheme—tocreateasenseofsanctuaryforourclientsthroughartanddesign.Buttherewasmoretoitthanthat.SometimeswecouldseethatartanddesignwerecosmeticBand-Aidsfordeeperproblems:dysfunctional

familystructures,unbalancedvaluesystems,toomanyactivities,maxed-outfinances.

Youseeawholelotwhenyou’reindozensanddozensofhomesforextendedperiodsoftime,andsomeofitisheartbreaking.Youseethataprettymuralcan’tfixabrokenmarriage,orpreventachingloneliness,orhelp

someonesleepbetteratnight.AndIwonderedif,inaroundaboutway,Godhadputapassionforbeautyinmyheartforagreaterpurpose.Morethanjustpayingthebills.Morethanjustacreativeoutlet.Morethanjustmakingprettythings.

Butforsomethingeternal.

EricLiddell,theOlympianwhoinspiredthemovieChariotsofFire,saysinthefilm,“Godmademefast.AndwhenIrun,IfeelHispleasure.”IoftenfeltasenseofGod’spleasurewhenIpainted,orwhenIbegantowritemythoughtsdownonpaperandsawbeautyunfoldinmywords.Therewasamantleofpeaceand

satisfactionthatwarmedmedowntomytoesandcausedmetowakeupeachmorningeagertogetgoing,excitedtoseewhatthedaywouldhold.I’dbeguntoseethatIwasmadetocreatethings,andthatdoingsowasanextensionofGod’sowncharacterflowingthroughme.FeelingGod’spleasureinsuchasimplewaymademe

wanttoshareitwithothers.Myloveforartwas

quietlybirthingaloveforpeople.

“Findyourpassion.”Thescribbledwordsweremorethanaworthygoal.Icouldnothaveknown,inmytwentiesoreveninmythirties,howpassionwouldfindmeinstead.Sometimesittakesacircuitousroute,back

toyourchildhood,torememberwhatbroughtyoujoy—beforeanyonetoldyouthatyoucouldn’tdoit,orthatyouweren’tgoodenough,orthatitwasn’tpractical.Beforethatvoiceinyourheadtoldyoutoclosethedoorandtakehomeeconomicsinstead.

Sometimesyoubumpintoyourpassionwhenyou’relookingforsomethingelse,andsuddenlyitallbecomesclearwhenyoufeelGod’spleasureasyoucreateorgiveorlearn.Andsometimesyoujusthavetobreakdownsomefencesandbustsomegatesofftheirhingesinordertocatchtheprizeontheotherside.Andwhenyoudo,you

realizethatdiscoveringyourpassionisn’tanendinitself,butthekey.

Thekeytofindingyourpurpose.

Findyourpassion.Passionleadstopurpose.

Istoodoutsidethestatelydooroftheagingmansionandpushedthebell.ThefaintsoundofWestminsterchimesfilteredthroughthepanesofthesidewindows.Longestdoorchimeever.Idon’tknowhowpeoplestandit.“Justaminute,”cameavoiceontheothersideofthedoor.The

ladyofthehousejiggledthehandleupanddownasshestruggledtounlockit.

Thewaitgavemeachancetotakeabreathandcollectmyselfbeforemeetingthisprospectivecustomer.Ipulledmyblazerdowntostraightenitandshookmybangsoutofmyeyes.Inhale.Nowexhale.OurprojectwithBridgetteandStevehadledto

furtherworkatthecorporatesite,butithadrecentlyended.NowIneededtofillourscheduleonceagain.SohereIwas.

Itookstockofmysurroundings.Thehome,whichhadbeenfeaturedindesignmagazinesinthe1970s,wasonceashowstopperinthemidstoftheold-moneyedpartofFort

Worth.Butfortyyearshadtakentheirtoll,andtheoldgirllookedunfashionablyshabbynexttothesprawlingnewmansionsthatweregoinginnearby.

Peelingpaintonthewooddoorandtrim,alongwithsaggingguttersalongtheroofline,madethehouselooktired,andeventhestiffboxwoodhedgesfeltoutof

touchwithmodernstyle.Still,thiswasexactlythetypeofneighborhoodwelikedtoworkin:Ithadpeoplewhoappreciatedfinethings—andwhohadmoneytospend.

Thedesigneronthisproject,whohadputusintouchwiththehomeowner,wasnewtome.I’dnevermethimbefore,butIappreciatedthathe’dseenourwork

somewhereandfeltwewouldbeagoodfitforhisclients.Heexplainedtheywereintheprocessofupdatingtheirhomeandneededustoprovidesomebeautifulfinishesforthekitchencabinetry.“Theremightalsobeafewminorrepairs,”hesaid.Andthenhe’dhungup

abruptlyaftergivingmetheaddress.Alittleodd,buthey,Iwasn’tcomplaining.

Irentedashinynewcar,impressiveenoughtobefitthesalescall.

“Hereweare!”saidthelady,finallythrowingthedooropen,releasingasmoke-filledhazeintotheoutsideair.“Watchyourstep.”Shepressedherslipperedfoot

overthethresholdtokeepitfrompoppingupandtookapuffofherlipstick-stainedcigarette.Itwasdifficulttotellherage,butIguessed,oh,mid-seventies,withalittlebitofworkdonetoputhersquarelyinherlatesixties.“Wehadaguyworkingonthisdoor,andhenevercamebacktofinish.”Sheshookher

headdisgustedly.“Youjustcan’tdependonpeopleanymore.”

“Iknow,peoplethesedays,right?”Inoddedsympatheticallyandfollowedherintothedimentryway.Shescoopedupherblack-and-whiteshihtzu,whowasbarkingandbaringtinywhite

fangsatmeinwelcome,andpulledhiminclosetoherflowinghousedress.

“Now,beforewegettothosecabinets,Iwantyoutotakealookatthiswater-damagedwallandgivemeabidonfixingit,thenpaintingamuraloverthefixtodisguiseit.”

Iheardhersaythis,butIcouldbarelytearmyeyesawayfromthesceneinfrontofme.Amultitudeofbears—scoresandscoresofcollectibleteddybears—linedeverywall,step,pieceoffurniture,andbookshelf.Bearsinweddingdresses,bearsinoveralls,bearsreadingbooks,bigbears,littlebears,bearsinrocking

chairs,bearsinfrillyVictorianoutfits,bearswithmonocles,bearswithbabybears.Bearsandmorebears.Itwasaveritablebearbonanza.

“Icollectbears,”theladysaidmodestly,pressingherjet-blackhairintoitselaborateupdo.“AndmodernAsianart,aswellascommemorativeplates.And

anythingwithelephantsonit.”Shemotioned,spokesmodelstyle,tothesunkenlivingroom,wherehercollectionsweredisplayedinmassive,ridiculousvignettesofuttertastelessness.ItwasasiftheHomeShoppingNetworkhadunloadedallofitsunclaimedmerchandiserightthere.Ifelt

aninvoluntarylaughabouttoerupt,butIremainedprofessional.

“Lovely,justlovely.Almosttakesyourbreathaway.”Ibusilypulledoutmymeasuringtapeandgottowork.Allthoseglassybeareyeswatching,watching.Myneckprickled.AndIknewinstinctively,evenasImeasured,thatsheonly

wantedapricefrommeanddidnotplantohaveusfixthewallorpaintamuraloveritatall.Tirekicker.Youlearntorecognizethemquickly.Peoplewhodon’tcarethatittakeshourstolookateachproject,comeupwithasolution,createadesignandasketch,thenpresentabid...allwithoutthemever

planningtopurchasefromyou.NotthatImind—I’mjustsaying.

Wemadeourwaytothekitchen,wheretomysurprisethecabinetrywasfreshlyfinishedwithaCountryFrench,antiquedtreatment.“Youwanttochangethis?”Iasked.

“No,justfixit,”shereplied.Shepointedtoaverysmallareanearthesinkthatneededattention.“Ikeepcallingthepaintertocomeoutandfinishthis,andI’vejustgivenup.Obviously,heisnotaverydependableperson.”Shelaunchedintoaconspiratorialrantabouthowdifficultitwastogetanyonetodoagoodjob,theway

thingsusedtobedone,and

howterribleitwasthatnooneevenansweredtheirphonesanymore.

“I’llhavetoprepthewoodandmatchthepaint,”Isaid,interruptingherlengthyremarksandstartingtofeeljustateenybitputoutfordrivingallthiswaytobidonsuchaminorrepair.“It’saverysmallarea,butitwon’t

beeasytogetittolookperfect.”I’dhavetorecoupmytimesomehow.

“Iknowyoucandoit,”saidthehomeowner.“Ijustcan’ttrustanyoneelse.”Thecigaretteglowed.“Now,youneedtoseetheguestbathandtellmewhatyoucandointhere.Thewallpaperguydidn’tpulloffalltheoldpaperbeforehequit,andI

wonder—youcanjusttexturerightoveritandmakeitlookreallyluxurious,can’tyou?”Whatwasleftofthegoldwallpaper,withred-and-blackflocking,burnedmyeyeballswithitsgroovy’70spattern.Itwashardtothinkstraight.Perhapsthewallpaperguyhadbeenovercomewithnausea.

“Whatareyourideas?”shedemanded.Thedoginthecrookofherarmquiverednervouslywithacontinuousgrowl,chasingoffanycreativethoughtImighthavehad.Easynow,Fluffy.ButIgraciouslyspentthenextfifteenminutesdiscussingideaswithherfortheguestbathroom,whichIknewwasanothertirebeingkicked.

Myeyeballproblemwasgivingwaytoamassiveheadache,butthetourwasjustbeginning.Fromtheguestbath,wetrudgedthroughstrewnlaundrytothemasterbath,wheretheplumbershadlefttheirtoolsandeverything,presumablyforalunchbreak.Butthat

wastwoweeksago.Ibegantoseeapatternhere.Nooneevercomesback.

Mypoundinghead,theawfulfluorescentlights,hergravellyvoicegoingonandonabouttheplumbers...Izonedoutforamomentorfive,whichwasunfortunate,becauseIdidnotseetheothershihtzucoming,fullforce,toattackthebackof

myankle.Ack!Ishookhimoffandtriedtoactcasualaboutinspectingthebitemark.Bleeding!Areyoukiddingme?Thatwretchedlittledoghadpuncturedaveinwithhisneedleteeth.That’swhenIstoppedpretendingtosmileandjustgrittedmyteethfortheremainderofthetour.

Please,dearLord,makethisend.

ButGod,inHisinscrutablewisdom,wasclearlynotinterestedinswiftintervention.Hewasgoingtoleavemehanging.Ontowardthemasterbedroomwewent.IcouldhearchildrendownthehallsingingtheBarneythemesongandventuredsomesmalltalk.

“Oh,howsweet.ArethoseyourgrandchildrenIhear?”

“No,notgrandchildren,”saidmyhostess.Sheflungopenadoortoahugewalk-incloset.“Parrots.”

Threelargegraybirds,inthreeenormousdustycages,allbobbedtheirheads,theirbeadyeyesgluedtoaTVscreenandsingingwithreedy

voices,“Iloveyou,youloveme,we’reahap-pyfam-i-ly...”

“Theylovethisshow!”sheexclaimed.“Ikeepiton24-7,justforthem.”Ibrushedafloatingfeatherfrommynoseandinstantlyrealizedthatsomeonehadputdrugsinmydrive-throughcoffee,andIwashallucinatingthiswhole

thing.Suddenly,thesingingparrotsmadeperfectsense.Ofcourse.Thatfeatherwasn’tevenreal,wasit?Hysteriabubbledup,alongwithacoldsweat.Sothisiswhatitfeelsliketoloseit.Bu-whahahahaha!

IfIhadhadplumber’stools,Iwouldhavedroppedthemandrun,butinsteadIclutchedmyblacksatcheland

snappedmynotebookshut.Iturnedtomakemyexit,butbeforeIcouldmakeacleangetaway,shekeptthepartygoingwithonelastitem.

“Iwantyoutomeetmyhusband,”sheannounced,andlikealambtotheslaughter,allIcoulddowasfollowhelplesslytothenextroom.

“Frank!ThisisRachel!Frank!Thisistheartist!”mytourguideraspedasweburstthroughthedoor.Shroudedinbluecigarettesmoke,Frank,ashrunkenlittleman,satdeepintherecessesofafadedfloralcouch,hookeduptoanoxygentank.Thetankwasatoneknee,anashtrayontheother,justabovealargelegbandage.Heliftedhis

perfectlybaldheadingreetingandsputteredsomethingunintelligible,hiswordsdrownedoutbytheBarneychorusandbarkingshihtzus.Inthatinstant,IknewthatI,too,wouldnevercomeback.

“Ohmygoodness,lookatthetime!”Ipretendedtolookatmywatchandwheeledaround.Ilimpedback

throughthehouseonmyonegoodankle,draggingmybloodystumpbehindme,whiletheladyshuffledtokeepup,explainingtheproblemswithhomehealthcareinminutedetail.SomethingaboutFrank’slegwoundnothealingproperly,andwouldItakealookatit

andtellherwhatIthought.Mythoughtatthatmoment?Whyme?

Wemadeittothedoor.Finally!Butitwouldn’topen.SoIwaitedindesperationwhileshejiggledthedoorknobforafullminutebeforereleasingmefromthenetherworldofbearsanddisappearingworkers.

Air!Freshair!Myrentalcar!ItakebackeverythingIeversaidaboutfindingaquietloveforpeople.Myheartwasagiantholeofnothing.Exceptfear.

Andpossiblyhorror.IcalledTomtheminuteI

gotoutofthedriveway.“Wearegettingregular

jobs,”Isaidinnouncertainterms.“Youcannotbelieve

whatjusthappenedtome.”IlaidrubberontheroadasIpeeledontothefreeway.“Also,andI’mnotjoking,IthinkImayhavebeendrugged.”

Mydescriptionoftheeventtookmostofthedrivehome.WhenIfinallyarrived,ashowerremovedthestalesmokefrommyhair.The

clothescouldbelaundered.ButIcouldnotshakethenightmare.

Theproblemwas,weneededthemoney,andIknewwehadnochoicebuttogoback.We’dhavetoworkwithshriveled-upFrankandthesingingparrots,rabidshihtzus,andawfulsmoke.Andallthattalking!Myheadthrobbed.

Tomguidedmetothecouchandhandedmeasteamingcupoftea,alongwithasquareofdarkchocolate(withseasaltandcaramel—sohealing).“Havethis,”hesaid,“andthenlet’sgetyouintobed.Thereyougo,baby.”Ilookedatthisguywhoaftertwenty-fiveyearsofmarriageknewIneededtohearthat

everythingwasgoingtobeallright.“Wecanmanagewithoutthisjob,”helied.AndIlovedhimforit.

Isleptoffthedreadfulexperience(ordetoxed?—whatever),andwhenmorningcame,Tombroughtmecoffeeandhandedmemyshoes.

“Let’sgetGraysonofftoschoolandthengoforalittlewalk.”BynowMeghanwasincollege,anditwaseasytogetonekidoutthedoorwithasacklunch.Thiswasgood:Ineededeasy.

Theairhadjustahintoffallinit,andaslightbreezerustledthedrygrassesinthefieldaswetookeachother’shandandslippedoutside.

Neitherofusneededtosayanythinggrand,whichisoneoftheverybestthingsaboutbeingtogethersinceforever.

Weletourselvesthroughthegateandwalkedintothepasture,ourstepsinstinctivelytakingustooneofFlash’strails.Abouttwelveinchesinwidth,thepathwasperfectlygroomedbyhissetofhoovesandjust

wideenoughforsinglefile.Tomdroppedbackbehindme,ourfingersreleasing.

Thetrailmeanderedtowardthebarnalongthefencelineforfiftyyardsorsobeforedividingintotwo.Oneofthebranchesledontothebarn,whiletheotherangledoffacrossthefield.Wechosetheoneanglingoffandfolloweditaroundtowhereit

intersectedwithanotherofFlash’strails.Takingaright,weheadedthroughthebackpasturetowardthewoods,ourfeetstillfollowingthefurrowthatwascarvedthroughthegrassandtallweeds.

“I’llbetthisplacelookscrazyfromtheair!”Ishieldedmyeyesfromthemorningsunandlookedeastwardacrossthefield.Itwas

crisscrossedwithhispathsinsomekindofpatternonlyadonkeycouldmakesenseof.Eachcornerofthefieldwasconnectedbyatrail,withintersecting,veeringlinesgoingthiswayandthat.Nonewasstraight,buteachwaslikeagentlyundulating,dryriverbedcreatedbyhismoseyingwalkingstyle.

“Hardtobelievehecandoenoughploddingtokeepthesesowellmaintained,”Tomsaid,admiringFlash’sworkethic.“Look,thisonegoesfromthewoodstothebarn,withexitsincasehechangeshismind!”Themainarterieswerewellwornanddeep,buteventhesecondarypathslookedoftused.

WeglancedupjustintimetoseeFlashemergefromthewoods,wherehelovedtosleepatnight.Truetoform,heusedthemostdirecttrailroutetoreachus.Wewatchedhishoovesplod,plod,plodtowardusandsawthattheydraggedabitofdirtwitheachknock-kneedstep.

FlashcametoastopbyTom,nosinghispocketsforatreat.TomproducedaTicTacandpalmeditforFlash’ssoft,thicktonguetograb,andwelaughedwhenhedrooledatitsmintyness.Welistenedtohimcrunchit,thesoundechoinginthatbigoldhead.ThenIsighedandlookedatTom,notwantingtotalkaboutthatjobbutknowing

weprobablyshould.Iwantedtoquitthiswholething,soIsaidasmuch.

“Rachel,wearen’tgoingtotakethatproject,sostopworryingaboutit.We’llbefine.We’vealwayssaid‘Notallbusinessisgoodbusiness,’andthisisaperfectexample.Somethingelsewilltakeitsplace.You’llsee.”

TomthrewanarmaroundFlash’sneckandgavehisfriendagoodknucklerubonhisfuzzyforehead.ThedonkeyturnedhisheadintoTom’schestandvigorouslyrubbedupanddown,leavingadustyprintonhisdarkshirt.LookingoverFlash’searsatme,Tomcontinued.“Besides,nottobecornyoranything,butIthinkwejust

needtokeepploddingon.”“Oh,ha-ha-ha,”I

laughed,holdingmystomachinfeignedmirth.“Aren’tyouclever!”

“No,I’mserious.”Tom’ssmilebecameearnest.“Weneedtorememberthatwe’reinthisforthelonghaul,andthatthejourneyisjustasimportantasthedestination.Lookathowfarwe’vecome

andhowmanygoodthingshavehappenedalongtheway.Lookatourkids,andhowwe’relivingherenow,fightingforsomethingworthwhile.Lookatthefactthatwe’restandinginapasturewithadonkeyonaweekdaymorning,whiletherestoftheworldissittingintraffictogettotheirdeskjobs.Wearedoingsomething

welove.Yeah,we’vehadourinsanemoments,butIwouldn’ttradeanythingforwherewearerightnow.”

Ilookedaroundatallthosetrails,madeonesedatestepatatime,byadonkeywhoneverreallyseemedtopayattentiontowherehewasheaded,andIconsideredwhatTomhadsaid.Maybehehadapoint.

Plod,plod,plod.Thatwasexactlywhatweweredoing.Progresswassoslow.Itdidn’tappearlikewewereheadinganywhere.Successwasnowhereonthehorizon,andourtemposeemedtodrag.Butatleastweweremoving.Weweren’tsittingstill.Weweretakingsteps,forminghabits,creatinglanes.Andallthoselanes

wereintersecting,weaving,makingwayforlifetohappen.Itdidn’tallrestononejob.Hmmm.

Wewerewalkingnow,singlefileagain.Tom,me,Flash.YouneverreallyliketobetheonerightinfrontofFlashbecausehehasnoconceptofpersonalspace.Heputshisnoserightupbyyourbackandplayfullynibblesat

yourclothingasyoumovealong.Hereallyneedstoworkonthat.

JustasIarchedmybackinanticipationofhisnudge,Iheardhoovespausebehindme.IturnedintimetowatchFlashlowerhisnosetotheground.We’dwalkeddirectlythroughhisfavoriterollspot,wherehelovestobathehimselfindirt.It’sawide

circle,worncleanofgrassandweeds,rightdowntothesoft,loosesoilbeneath.

Flash’srollspots—hiddenjewelsinapasturecomprisedlargelyofTexasblacklandsoil(muchtooclumpy)andlimestonerock(notenoughdust)—arewellchosenfortheirqualityofsandydirt,

andheenjoystheritualofbathinginthemlikeyoucan’timagine.

Nowtrancelike,withhalf-closedeyesandflattenedears,hecircledseveraltimes,hismuzzleleavingagrooveinthefinesand.Hisfrontlegsseemedtobuckle,andwithadeepexhaleheloweredhimselftothegroundand

kickedupagiantplumeofdustwithhisbackfeetasherolledover.

Bellyup,herolledfromsidetosideinviolentmotionspunctuatedbygasandgroans.Herubbedhisbackintothegroundwithrelishandfinallycametoastopwithlegssplayedout,tailrapidlysweepingthedirt.Onemoreroll.Heheavedahappysigh

andlookedupatusoverhisdustmustache.Iwasreadytohearhimsay,“Thanksforwaiting,guys.Thatfeltgreat.”

Flashthrewhisfrontfeetforwardandpulledhimselfup,coveredindirtfromearstorump,justthewayhelikesit.Thelayerofdustwouldhelprepelthefliesandmosquitoesandprotecthim

fromthesun—importantquality-of-lifeissuesforcreatureswho,forobviousreasons,wouldhavedifficultyapplyingsunscreenorinsectspraybythemselves.

Wecontinuedonourway,finallystoppingatthewaterspigotnearthebarn,whereBeauwaswaitingforus.He’doptednottowalkwithhisrival,buthedidn’tseem

tomindthatwehaddoneso.“I’lltakeyouguystothehouse,”hisexpressionsaidashewaggedthetipofhistailatus.

WithhisshouldertoFlash,hisbodylanguageclearlyexcludedthedonkeyfromtheconversation.Thetwotag-teamedourwalks,passingusofflikebatons,withFlashtakingthepasture

zoneandBeauinchargeoftheyard.Howeverawkward,itseemedtoworkforthem.

Tomtoppedoffthebucketbeneaththefaucetwhilethesunwarmedthefourofus.IhadneverconsideredFlashtobeatrailblazer,eventhoughwe’dseenhimrunwithhorsesandromanceabeautifulmare.Hecertainlyhadexperienced

somebig,shiningmoments.Buthischaracteristicgaitwass.l.o.w.Hedidn’thurry,andheseemedtostepmethodically.Herarelyevenlookedupasheambled.

Anditdawnedonmethenthattherewassomethingimportantinhistrails.Theyweredailyeffortsthatcreatedstructureandmadepathwaysforotherstofollow.And

maybejustasnoteworthy,theyintertwinedtocreateanintricatepatternthatdidn’talwaysmakesensefromupclose,butcouldeasilybeseenfromanotherperspective.

Ididamentalflyover,imaginingmylifeasFlash’s.(Iwoulddefinitelydosomethingaboutthebuckteethandbig-ear

situation.)IlookeddownatmyownpathwaystoseeifIcouldfindanypatterns—anydefinitivetrailsthatIcouldidentify.

AtfirstglanceitlookedjustlikeFlash’shaphazardpasturelines,butasIpulledmylensbackfurther,Ibegantoseehowallthosethreadswereinterconnecting,moving,andweaving.Like

anunfinishedtapestry,withunravelededges,butwiththebeginningsofsomethingbeautifultakingshape.

IsawhowthepathofmychildhoodasthatawkwardmissionarykidhadledtoyoungadulthoodandBiblecollege.AndhowthepathofBiblecollegehadledtomeetingmyhusbandandthinkingwewouldbe

courageoushumanitariansinsomefar-offcorneroftheglobe.Astwentysomethings,wejustknewwewouldchangetheworldwithourzealanddedication.Jesusandusandthegospel!Butsomehowlifeandkidsandworkhadchangedthoseplans,andthetrailtookanunexpectedturn.

Forsomanyyearswefeltthatourpathwas“lessthan”thoseofmorededicatedservants,whogaveitalltofollowhighercallings.Whilewelivedinsuburbiaandenjoyedtheeverydayluxuriesofrunningwater,flushingtoilets,andWalmart,theywereputtingtheirlivesonthelineingrasshutssomewhere.Arewedoingenough?Arewe

sellouts?Areweselfishtopursueadreamthatusesourcreativegifts?Wekepttreading.Diapers,Sundayschool,work,offeringplate.

Faithhadoftenbeenpresentedasaneither-orproposition:Eitheryouarea100percentwillingvesselorahalfheartedchurchattendee.Aministerorapewsitter.Adoeroraspectator.Anon-

firezealotorapallidChristian.Therewasn’tmuchmiddlegroundtospeakof.Ittookyearsofploddingtorealizethattherewas,afterall,aplaceforus,anditwasnotinamanufacturedstateofguilt,butinagrace-filledspacewithinHiscare.

Faith,welearned,isnotanoccupation,butalifestyle.Itisamatteroftheheartthat

encompasseseverything.Stepbyfalteringstep,wehadmadeatrailfromthewoodstothebarn,fromhyperactivedutytogenuineworship.Circlingaroundandcomingback.Fromwork...tograce...tooffering.

Makingdinner,takingkidstopianolessons,changingtheoil.FindingthatGodisinourworkandour

playandourfamily.InourhockeygamesandBiblestudies,ourbedtimeprayersanderrands.Heisinoursketchesandpaintbrushesanddreams.Heisinourshowingupeachdayandlacingupourshoesandbeingfullypresentinwhateversituationswefindourselves.Heisinourverybreaths.

Walking,stepping,plodding.Doingthenextthing.

Fromtheweightofthinkingweneededtohavealltheanswersinourzealousyouth,tothedarknessofhavingnone—notasingleone—inourmomentsofdespair.LikewhenwelostCollin.Orwhenwehadto

choosewhichbillstopay.Gettinglost,andfeelingourway.

Andoneday,wakinguptoembracethefreedomofthemystery.Savoringthenotknowing.Restinginfaith.BeinginaweofaGodwhoseesandknows,andwhowaits.Itallhappensinsuchincrementalmoments,asyouworkoutyourlifeintosome

kindofreflectionofHiminyoureverydayworld.Youaremakingtrails,evenwhenyoudon’tknowquitewhereyouareheading.

Andallthetangledknots,thehardplacesofyourjourney,becomedotsonthemap.Theyareinterspersedwiththestretchesofplains,themountains,andthejoyousmilestones,allofitcoursing

intoamagnificentpatternborneofslowstepsanddeterminedfeet.

Eachmarkerholdsitsstory.“Rememberthattime?”yousay,andyoulaughorfadeoffintoquietreverie,retracingyourstepsandshakingyourhead.Youseehoweachplaceyoumarkmakeswayforanewtrailtobeblazed.Yes,someofthe

trailspeterout,andyouhavetobackupandstartover.Someofthemareeasierthanothers.Andsomedon’tmakeanysenseatall,atleastfromyourperspective.Thepointis,youaremoving.Notstandingstill.Youareputtingonefootinfrontoftheother,andasyoudo,somehow...Godisthere.

Step,step,plod,step.

Heputspeopleinyourpath—likePriscilla,whoenteredmylifewithaphonecallinquiringaboutanurserymural,andwhoneverleft.Withherendlessencouragementandgenerousfriendship,shechangedmycourseforever.“Wanttoseeamovie?”she’dask,anditwaslikealifelinewhenIwasmostlonely.

AndBridgette.OurSouthernbelleneighbor,whowasevergrowingonmewithher“Wellhi,y’all”sandherdeliciousgumbothatsometimesarrivedoutsideourfrontdooralongwithakindnote.ShestillcalledFlashTHATNAME,butitbotheredmelessandlessthesedays.

Trailmarkers,northernstars.

Psalm32:8says,“Iwillguideyoualongthebestpathwayforyourlife.Iwilladviseyouandwatchoveryou.”HowincredibletoknowthatHishandisleadingandHiseyeiswatchingoverus.AndProverbs16:9states,

“Wecanmakeourplans,buttheLORDdeterminesoursteps.”

AsIwaitedforFlash’sbuckettofill,IrememberedthetimeIwasatChick-fil-AwithGraysononaparticularlystressfulday.We’djustleftadentistappointmentthattookforeverandcostsomeexorbitantsum,andIwasinahurryto

getbacktoworktomakeuplosttime.Iswungintothedrive-throughlaneandplacedourorderforlife-sustainingchickennuggets,wafflefries,andsweettea.Theyoungladyontheothersideoftheintercomwasincrediblypolite,andIwasevenmoreimpressedwithherwhenwereachedthewindow.Shetookmymoney,gaveusourfood,

toldmeitwasapleasuretoserveus...allwhileemployingsuchintentionaleyecontactwithmethatImadeparticularnoteofittoGrayson.

“See,nowthatishowteenagersshouldinteractwithadults.Makingeyecontactissoimportant!Ihopeyou’llremembertodothat,Gray.You’llgofarinlifeifyou

do.”Hey,youcan’tletateachablemomentgotowaste.

AsIhandedGraysonhisfood,Ihappenedtocatchaglimpseofmyselfintherearviewmirror.What?SuddenlyIknewexactlywhythegirlatthewindowhadlookedatmesointently.Theleftlensofmysunglasseshad

fallenout—I’dbeentalkingtoherwithonlyonetintedlens!

“Goodgrief,Grayson!HowlonghaveIbeendrivingaroundlikethis?”Idemandedofmyson,whosemouthwasalreadystuffedwithwafflefries.Ipointedatmymissinglensandglaredathim.Throughhischipmunkcheeks,hemumbled

somethingaboutnotbeingabletoseethatsideofmyheadfromthepassengerseat.Glancingover,henearlychokedashespitoutthefriesandhowledinlaughter.Notashredofcompassion,thatkid.

HowcouldInothavenoticedthatIwasmissingalens?HowcouldInot“see”somethingsoconspicuous?IrealizedlaterthatIwasjust

tooclosetothesituation—literally.(Itdidn’thelpthatIwasdistractedandworriedatthetime.)Butmymismatchedlenseswereonlytooobvioustosomeonelookingfromanotherperspective.Lookingoutfrommybrokenviewpointdidn’trevealthetruth;itwasonlyfromadistancethatrealitywasclearlyseen.

Iwondered,howoftendowefailtoseethebigpicture?Howoftendowelookatpresentcircumstancesandmakedecisionsbasedonwhatweseeandfeeltoday?Weforgetthatit’sinthewalking,inthedailytasks,thattheworkofgracegetsdone.Sometimeswejusthavetostepbackinordertoseeit.

Flash’scoarsehairalongthecrossonhisbackalreadyfelthotinthemorningsun.Heplungedhislipsintothecoolwateranddrankdeeplyfromthefullblackbucket.Hissturdyneckrippledwitheachswallow,hisnostrilsopeningwide,thenclosing.Hefinallybroughthisheadup,waterdribblingfromthecornersofhismouth,and

lookedatme.Throughlongeyelashes,hisdarklyrimmedeyesheldmygaze.Heblinkedandbroughthiswetnoseuptomyfacetosniffmycheek.

Inthatmoment,Iwasfilledwithgratitudeforthishomelessdonkeyandforallhiscrazytrails.AndIthankedGodforallthetimesduringmyjourneythatI’dbegged

forrescue,forchange,forintervention—andGodinHisinscrutablewisdomhadleftmejustwhereIwas.

Becauseitwasinthewaiting,andthewondering,andtheploddingthatIhadtodothemosttrusting.Andfoundthemostgrace.

Youcan’talwaysseethedestination,butperseverancewilltakeyouthere.

Heiswithyoueachstepoftheway.

Always.

Beatrailblazer.Persistencemakespathwaysforgracetofollow.

CanIgetyouacupofcoffee?No?Howaboutsomelemonade?It’ssugar-free.”Bridgetteusheredmeintoherultrastylishhomeofficeforadesignmeeting,butfirst,herSouthernhospitalitytookover.Sheadjustedtheroundglassesonhernoseandsmiled.“Youjustsetrighthereandletmegetyou

something.”Bridgettesaid“here,”like“heeah,”whichalwaysmademesmile.

“No,thankyou.I’mfine.”Ideclinedtherefreshmentandsatdown.MyMidwesternsensibilitiesandNorwegianrootsrequiredmetorefuseallfirstandsecondoffers,onaccountofthat’showwedoit.Itgoesagainstourstoicgraintoputanyone

out.Wedon’twanttobeabother.Really,wedon’t.Wecouldn’t.

Unless,ofcourse,theymakeathirdoffer.

Thenwecanconsiderit.“Water,then?It’sno

trouble,”Bridgetteinsisted.“Butthelemonadeisdelicious,andI’vealreadygotitmade.”Thepitcherwashoveringovertheglass,

Bridgette’seyesonme,awaitingmyresponse.Iwasnomatchforthis“steelmagnolia”andgavein.

“Well,sinceyou’vealreadymadeit...”Graciousacceptancewasmyonlyrecourseinthissituation.Shepoureditoverice(again,toomuchtrouble,butshealready

hadiceout)andsettheglassdownonacoasterinfrontofme.

“Howaboutsomecheeseandcrackers?”IcouldseethatBridgettewasgoingtomakethisdifficult.

“Ohthankyou,but,no.Ijusthadalatelunchandcouldn’teatabite.”Iheldmyhandupinpoliterefusal.Butshewasalreadybringinga

smalltraywithanarrayofcheeses,aselectionofcrackers,andclustersofgrapes.

“You’vesimplygottotrythisBrie,”Bridgettesaid.Inoticedthatitwastoppedwithsomekindofraspberrymarmalade,oozingdownthesidesinadecadentdisplayofepicureangoodness.Thisladydidn’tplayfair.

“Ohmy.That’stooprettytoeat.ImightneedtojustInstagramitinstead.”Icouldfeelmymouthwatering.Raspberriesaremyfavorite.Alsoanykindofcheese.

Bridgettetookacrackeranddippeditintothesoftwedgetotemptme.“It’sfromCostco,andwebought

somuch,morethanSteveandIcouldpossiblyeat.Pleasehelpuseatsomeofitup!”

AsIthoughtaboutit,lunchwasseveralhoursago,anditonlymadesensetohaveanafternoonsnack.Andshe’dgonetoallthisworktoputthetraytogether.

“Ireallyshouldn’t.”Iwasstillreluctantbuthatedtoinsultherhospitality.“I’lljust

haveoneortwobites.”Heavenly.Shehadso

muchofit,maybethreeorfourbites,orten,wouldtakesomeoffherhands.ItwastheleastIcoulddo.

IdecidedthatonlyclassypeoplehappentohaveBrie(andgourmetmarmalade)onhandforlast-minutemeetings.BridgettesomehowmademefeellikeIwasdoing

herafavorbyeatingasmuchasIcould.Idon’tknowifSouthernwomengotoschooltomastertheartofpersuasionorwhat,butshehadasummacumlaudedegreeinit.Icouldlearnsomethingfromher.

BridgettehadanewclientwhoneededartworkinhisluxurycondoindowntownDallas,andshewantedtogo

overthedesignplanforthewholespacebeforewewerescheduledtogotothelocationtogetherlaterintheweek.

IsippedmylemonadeasItookoutanotepadandstartedlookingatthepaintandfabricswatchesshehadchosenwhilepiped-inmusicdriftedthroughtheeclecticofficethatlookedpartdowntown

loft,partTexascountry,andparturbanrenewal.Galvanizedmetalblendedseamlesslywithstainedconcretefloors,modernlighting,sleekworkspaces,andwell-chosenantiques.Ilovedtheoldwroughtironstairrailandslidingbarndoor.Fabuloustouches.Alibraryofarchitecturalbooksandsamplesfilledanentire

wall,andamassivebankconferencetable,usedmainlyforPing-Pong,heldcenterstage.Youcouldn’thelpbutadmirethepanachewithwhichBridgetteandStevemergedtheirworkandhomelives.

Overthemonthsofworkingtogetheronvariousprojects,IhadcometoappreciateBridgette’stalent

forseeingpossibilitiesineverything.Oh,she’sverygood.Caseinpointwasthisoffice.SheandStevehadrecentlyboughtthepropertythatFlash’scowfriendshadlivedonandmovedfromthecottagenearusintoabarn.Seriously,whomovesintoacowbarn?Well,onlypeoplewhocanreimagine,repurpose,andreuseanything

andeverythingtoconvertitintoanincrediblehomeandofficespace.Whatwasoncejustabigmetalstructurehadbecomeafunctionalandinvitinglivingandworkingenvironmentthatanyonewouldenvy.

ItwasnowonderBridgettewassuccessful.Icouldseethatnow.Shecouldtakeanyolditemandmakeit

intoartorafunctionalpieceoffurniture.SheandStevecoulddesignawholebuildingonthebackofanapkin.Italmostmademesick,butIwascomfortedbythefactthattheylovedwhatwecouldbringtotheirprojectsartistically.Andasitturnedout,weworkedwelltogether.

“Say,haveyouseenhowbigthedarkmarenextdoorisgetting?”Bridgettefinishedfussingovertherefreshmentsandpulledupachair.“Whendoyouthinkherbabyisdue?”

“Ihavenoclue,”Isaid.“Butherbellyishuge!Itlookslikeshemightexplodeanyday.”

Itwastrue.Maria,thebeautifulebonyhorsethatFlashhadcrashedthroughfencesandgatesfor,wasdefinitelyexpectingafoal.Therecouldbenodoubt.Wewatchedhergirthexpandfromweektoweekasshewentfromsleekvixentobigmama.Nolongertrottingaroundthepasturewithherbandoffriends,shenow

lumberedslowly,asifmindfulofthenewlifeinsideher.

Flashhadnotmadeanymoreattemptstobreakout,buthelingereddailynearthebackgateandnuzzledwithherwhenhecould.Itwasasweetsight,butboy,wehopedhewasnotthepartyresponsibleforherballooningweightandthickankles.The

bandofhorsesinthepastureincludedtwostallions,sochancesweregoodthathewasoffthehookonthisone.

“AnyideaifHay-soosisthefather?”Bridgetteshotmeawink.She’dheardaboutFlash’srendezvouswiththecutie,anditwassomethingofafamousjokebynow.

“Bridgette,youdoknowhisnameisFlash,don’tyou?”Ilaughed.Thishadgoneonlongenough.

“OfcourseIdo,butthat’sjustmylil’petnameforhim.”Doggoneit,shelookedsosincere,Icouldn’tbemadaboutitanymore.Besides,itreallydidn’tmatterwhatshecalledhim.Itonlymatteredwhoownedhim,right?He

belongedtome,sowhatdifferencediditmake?Nonewhatsoever.ThisconversationwasfareasierthanIhadthoughtitwouldbe.WhyhadIfeareditsomuch?MaybeIwasgrowingorsomething.

“Fromthesizeofher,I’dsayit’smorelikelythatoneofthosebigstallionsoverthereisthestud,”Isaid.“I

surehopeso.Thelastthingweneedisacustodysituation.”Witheachdaythatpassed,Iworriedthatourneighborwouldshowupwithpapersandapaternitysuit.He’dprobablyhavethesheriffswithhimandeverything.Please,Lord,letthisfoalbeahorseandnotamule.

“You’dbetterkeepyourfingerscrossed,”Bridgettecautionedwithasmile.

“Believeme,Iam.Anyway,we’replanningtohaveFlash‘fixed,’soweshouldbeabletoputthisbehindus.”IgrimacedatthethoughtoftheimpendingoperationasIpickedupmypenandnotebook.

Wefocusedonthebusinessathand.Ilookedattheplansandtooknotes,squintingmyeyesandstaringoffintothedistanceasIimaginedtheoptionsforthespace.Thebiggestchallengewastocreateanartpieceusingaspecificshadeofbrownforatwenty-foot-highwall.Becauseelevatorsandhallwayswouldinterruptthe

space,somethingonsuchamassivescalewouldneedtobeinstalledinpieces,yetfeelseamless.Betweenthetwoofus,wehadmadeagoodstartontheoverallproject.ButIknewitwouldtakeareallyspecialideafortheowneroftheluxuryapartmenttosay,“Wow!That’sperfect!”

Afterourmeeting,Iwalkedhome,afloweringperennialfromBridgette’sgardenperchedatopmystackofsamples.Notabadcommute,whentheonlyothertrafficiscottontailrabbitswhoscurryoutoftheway.

Isteppedcarefullyoverthecattleguardbetweenourproperties,andFlashmetme

bythegatepost.“Heythere,DonkeyBoy.”Isetmythingsdownandreachedouttoscratchunderhisscruffychin,workingmywayuphisfacetohisears.Dustfromhislastdirtbathwaftedupintotheairandsettledbackdown.“Sowhat’sthatbabygonnabe,huh?”Iaskedhim,buthedidn’tsay.Instead,heturnedhisbodyarounduntilhisrear

endwasfacingme,andthenbackedupsoIcouldn’tmisshisrump.

“Nice,”Isaid.“Youwon’ttalktome,butyou’llletmescratchyourrear.Igetit.”Flashmightbeananimaloffewwords,buthecertainlyknowshowtocommunicatewhenhewantsto.Andheloveshavinghisbackside—theonlyplacehecan’treach

withhisteeth—rubbed.Heturnedtolookbackatme,witha“well-what-are-we-waiting-for”expression,andrelaxedhisbackhoofinanticipationofamassage.

SoIobliged,chucklingoutloudattheincongruityofstandinginafield,rubbingadustydonkey’sbacksideafterafancybusinessmeetingtodiscussaluxurycondodesign

overBrieandcrackers.Flashhadreallycomealongwaysincehefirstarrived,soscaredandbrokeninthoseearlydays.Ithoughtabouthowhehadn’twantedustotouchhim,howhehadshiedawaywhenwecametotendtohiswoundsandhadkeptawaryeyeoutforanysuddenmovement.

LookingoverFlash’shipstothefieldbeyond,IrememberedhowTomhadsetupthatcampchairinthemiddleofit.He’dbeensopatient,pretendingtoignoreFlashbyengrossinghimselfinabook,orby“bird-watching,”allthewhileallowingthedonkeytobecomeaccustomedtohispresence.Flashhadinched

hiswaycloserandcloser,fearingmistreatment,butreceivinginsteadgentlewordsandkindhandling.First,arubonhisnose.Then,ahandonhisneck.Hehadstood,trembling,asTomfelthiswaydownthecoarsehair,acrosshischestandoverhisshoulders.

Hisfearhadgraduallygivenwaytotrust,andherepaidTombybecominghisloyalcompanion.Hefollowedhimeverywhere,alwaysloiteringnearTom’sworkarea,curiousaboutanythinghedid.Affectionateandplayful,Flashlovedtoleanintohim,nibbleathiswaterbottle,andsniffhispockets.

Flashwouldhaveletmescratchhisbumallafternoon,butIhadotherthingstodo.Withafinaldustypatandahugaroundtheneck,Iheadedbacktothehouse.

“Here’swhatI’vecomeupwith,”IreportedtoTomafterseeingthecondolaterthat

week.“HowaboutaVenetianplasterfinishontwo-footsquarepanels,mountedinagridpatternoverthewholewall?WecoulduseastenciltechniquetoembosssomeLatinphrasesthatwouldrunupanddownthepanelstovisuallyconnectthem.”Ibelieveditsolvedeveryissuebeautifully,andIwasprettyproudofit.

“Hmmm...”Tomthoughtaboutitforafewmomentsandthensaidslowly,“Ithinkwecandobetter.”Hetookoutapieceofgraphpaper.“Iliketheideaofpanels,andifI’vedonethemathcorrectly,itwilltakeforty-fivesquarestocoverthatmassivewall.Butwhatifweembossindividualwordsthatdescribea‘LifeWell

Lived’oneachpanel?Toreallyknockitoutofthepark,wecoulduseadifferentlanguageforeachword,whichwouldreflectboththetravelsoftheclientandhisvalues.”

Yep,itwasbetter.Infact,itwasbrilliant.Wepresentedtheidea,andtheclientlovedit.

Withapprovalgrantedforthedesign,Tomperfectedtheplasterfinishtechnique,whileIresearchedwordstodescribeelementsofawell-livedlife.NowthisisthekindofartIadore,becauseitcombinestheaestheticwithameaningfulmessage.Itmademepauseandreflectonwhatawell-livedlifereallylookslike.

Isitaboutsuccess?Relationships?Experiences?Character?Faith?Whatwouldmakesomeonesayaboutanother,“Thispersonreallyknowshowtolivelifewell”?Theconceptforthearthadbeenasimpleone,really.ButitsprofoundquestionsresonatedwithmeasIponderedthecharacteristics

thathavemarkedhumanity’saspirationsthroughouthistory.

Intheend,weusedwordslikethese:

LoveHonestyFriendshipGenerosityKindnessFaith

PatienceGratitudePeaceHope

Eachelementoftheartpiecerequiredtime.Timetodecideonjusttherightword,timetotranslateitintoanotherlanguage,timetochooseafont,timetolayitout,timetoapplyittoeach

panel.IfoundthatwhenIhandledawordlikeloveorgratitudeorjoythatlong,Imeditatedonitthroughouttheday,evenwhenIwasn’tworkingonit.IfeltintentionalwithmyenergiesasIworked,talkedwiththekids,didlaundry,andboughtgroceries.

Canapersonhavejoywhilescrubbingatoilet?Canyouexperiencelovewhilespreadingpeanutbutteronasandwich?Gratitudewhenyourheadhitsthepillow?Iwasbeginningtothinkthatperhapslivingwell—inanycircumstance—mightbepossible,ifyourheartisintherightplace.

Thecondoprojectwouldtakeseveralweekstocomplete.BridgetteandIconferredregularlyandtookacoupleofshoppingexcursionstopurchasedecor.OurcommonmissionwassoenjoyablethatsometimesIevenforgotwewereworking.

Imagineme,laughingitupwiththeCEOofaprestigiousdesignfirm!Yetherewewere,havingaballdiggingthroughthriftshopsandantiquestoresaswesoughttreasuresforourclient’shome.

Oneday,Bridgettecalledwithsomeexcitingnews.

“Didyouseethenewfoal?”sheasked.“Ijustcaughtaglimpseofitoutmywindow!”

“No!”Iansweredbreathlessly.“It’shere?Whatdoesitlooklike?”ThenworriedlyIinquired,“Doesitlooklikeamule?”

“Icouldn’ttell.Itwasstayingprettyclosetoitsmama.”

Ithrewdownthephoneandranoutthedoor,grabbingGraysonbythearmasIpassedhiminthebreezeway.

“Thebaby!Maria’shadherbaby!”Ihuffed.

Nowoutside,weopenedthegateandtookoffacrossthefieldtowardthefence,withBeaujoiningintoseewhatthefusswasabout.We

arrivedatthebackgateandclimbedontothelowestcrosspiecetogetagoodview.Leaningforwardintothesunlight,wecouldseethehorsesgrazingmidfield.Ispottedlittlelegshiddenbehindtheblackmareasshenibbledgrass.Everythingwasquietexceptfortherustleofleavesstirredbythebreeze.

Moveaside,Maria!Wewilledhertoturn.Wecouldseeasmalltailswishingnearher,butthebaby’sformwasobscuredbyherframe.

AtGrayson’swhistle,thehorses’headscameupandturnedtowardus.Theypaused;thentheleader,alargecopperstallion,startedforward.Therestfollowed

suit,withthemareandherbabybringinguptherear.Stillcan’tsee!

Fifteenyardsnow,nearlycloseenoughtoview.Almost...almostthere.Thegroupstoppedjustbeyondus,clumpedtogetheraroundtheirnewestmember,beforeslowlyfanningout.C’mon,c’mon...Weheldourbreath.Atlastthemarebroke

fromthegroupandgentlynudgedthebabyatherside,asmothersoftendo...asiftourgehim,“Sayhellotothesepeople,Son.”Hetumbledforward,blinkingatusinsurprise.

Finally,ourfirstglimpseofthefoal.

Ohhoney.Justlookatyou.

Oureyestookintheperfectionbeforeus,andweexhaled,theairpassingslowlythroughourlipsaswetookhimin.

Youlookjustlikeyourmama...andyourdaddy.

You’redarkbrown,withunmistakablemarkings.

Adistinctgraymuzzle.Softlycircledeyes.

Earsthataremuchtoolong.

Yourmaneisallbristly.Yourtailisfunny.Yourheadisjustalittle

toobig.Darlingbaby,youarea

mule!Abeautifullittlemule.Andyourdaddyisthat

smug-lookingdonkeyinthenextpasture.

Onelookwasallweneeded.Thestrongfamilyresemblancevanquishedalldoubt.Wehadamulebabyonourhands.AndFlashwasthefather.

Thefoal’slonglegscarriedhimtowardusbeforehesuddenlyrealizedthathismotherhadstoppedseveralfeetback.Heleapedasifhislegsweremadeofsprings

andquicklyhoppedtoherside.Turningshylytolookatus,hiseyeswereinquisitiveandeagerinafacethatwasaperfectblendofFlashandhisladylove.

“Come!Comehere,”wecalledtothegroupastheymadetheirwaythroughthegrasstoouropenhands.Thenthefoalandhismamahungback,reluctanttogettoo

close.Itlookedlikethebabywasjustafewdaysold,itslegsfartoolongforitsbody,butotherwiserobustandhealthy.Whatamiraclehewas!Histinytailbobbedbackandforthashedecidedtoremainoutofourreach.

Oh,hewascute.AndnowIfiguredwe’dgetavisitfromthesheriff’sdepartment,demandingthatresponsibility

betaken.Therewasnodenyingthetruthbeforeus:Everythingontheinsideofthatbabyshowedontheoutside.Hehaddonkeybloodinhisveins,anditendearedhimtousmorethananythoroughbredbreedingcouldhave.

Weslippedtothefencewheneverwecouldtowatchhisprogressashefilledout

andgrewintohislonglegs.Alwaysbashfularoundus,heneverventuredfarfromhismama’seyes.Flash’slaissez-faireparentingstylelefttheday-to-daycaretotheebonymarewhileheobservedfromadistancethedarlingbabythatborehismarkings.Helookedonindulgentlywhilethemuleleapedoverimaginaryobstaclesand

kickeduphisheelswithrambunctiousenergy.Mariaseemedquitecontentwiththisarrangement,lookingaftertheneedsofhergrowingfoalwithoutinterferencefromtheopinionateddonkeynextdoor.

Everyonewhosawhimseemedtofallunderhischarm,includinghismama’sowner,whojoinedtheranks

ofthosesmittenbysuchaperfectmule.Muchtoourdelight,hedecidedtokeephimafterall.Wecouldcontinuetoseehimanytimewewanted.

Thesummerflewbyasweworkedontheluxurycondo.BridgetteandIhadonelast

meetingtowrapupthedetails.Wesatinherofficeamidstacksoffilesandsamplesandhercoloredmarkersandarchitecturalplans.Ifeltfortunatethatsomeoneofherprofessionalstaturewouldbewillingtotakemeunderherwingandteachmehowtotakethingsfurther.

I’dlearnedsomuchalready:howtocreatedesignboards,howtomakepresentations,andhowtoreadconstructiondocuments.Iwaspickinguptheterms:FF&E(Furniture,Fixtures,andEquipment—myfirst!),RFQ(RequestForQuote),charette(anintensecollaborativesession),lights(windowpanes),chamfer(to

roundoff),andingress/egress(in/out),tonameafew.IwasoutofmyleaguebuttryinghardtolookaspulledtogetherandconfidentasBridgette.

Ilookedatthepunchlistinmyhand.“TomandIwillbeon-sitewhenthechandeliergetsinstalled,”ItoldBridgette.“Ithinkthat’sthelastthingtobedone.”The

condohadturnedoutevenbetterthanwehadhoped.Itwasthoroughlyurban-contemporary,withatouchofTexasrusticflair.Theartpiecethatgracedthemassivewallwasastunningfocalpointfortheentirespace,anditwasgratifyingtoseehowithadallcometogether.

“Great.”Bridgettecheckedoffhernotes.Andthentherewasalittlepause.“So...Rachel,howdoyoudoit?”sheasked,returningherorangemarkertoitscaseandrestingherchininherhand.

“Dowhat?”Iwaspuzzledbyhersuddenquestion.

“Youknow.”Sheseemedtobesearchingfortherightwords.“Howdoyou...havesuchabeautifulfamilyinthemiddleofeverythingyouaredoing?”Ilookedupandsawaseriousexpressiononherface.“Imean,youandTomhavesomuchgoingon,andyetyoumakeitseemsoeasytoloveeachother.Youhavegoodrelationshipswithyour

kids,andyou’resoatpeaceallthetime.”

Bridgettestoppedforamomentandthenaddedslowly,“SteveandIusedtodrivepastyourhousewhenwelivedinthecottage,andsometimeswecouldseeinsideyourwindows.Italwayslookedsowarmand

wonderfulinthere.It’smademewonderhowyou’vedoneit.”

Idroppedmypenwithaclatter,speechlessatthisrevelation.Butitwashernextstatementthatnearlymademefalloffmychair.

“Youseemsoperfect,andit’shardnottobeintimidatedbyyou.”

Intimidated?Byme?Icouldn’tbehearingright.This,fromthebeautiful,impeccable,successfulBridgette.ThewomanIidolizedashavingitall,whocouldeatraspberryjam–toppedBrieandcrackers,balanceherbusinessandpersonallives,andstillmaintainatwenty-four-inchwaist.

Inamomentofclarity,IrealizedthatBridgettesawallthegoodandprettypartsofmylife,notalltheuglyonesIwastryingtohide.Ihadconvincedmyselfthatshenoticedmymomjeansandouroldtruckandmylackofprofessionalpolish,soinmyinsecurityIputupawallthatprojectedIhaditalltogether.Ididn’twanther—oranyone

else—toseemystrugglesandfailures,soIkeptheratarm’slengthandtriedtolookself-assuredandimpenetrable.Safe—fromadistance.

Thiswasmymodusoperandi:friendly,butfriendless.ExceptforPriscilla,therewereveryfewpeopleIletin.Fewsawtherealme,withmyflawsandwrinkles.ItwasapatternI’d

startedasagawkyteenager,soinsecureandsnaggletoothedandunfashionablenexttothepopulargirlsandsuccessfulathletesinhighschool.

BackthenI’dlearnedtobefunnyandgregarious,hidingmyintrovertedselfbehindaconfidentmasksothatI’dfitinwithoutriskingrejection.Itwashistory

repeatingitself—onlynowinsteadofcheerleaders,IsubstitutedotherwomenIdeemedbetter,smarter,prettier,andmoreaccomplished.Bridgettewasallofthosethings.Bestnottoletherseewhat’sontheinside.

Butthecharadesuddenlymademefeellonely.

Bridgette’squestionopenedmyeyes.Ihadbeenjealousofherperfection,andallthewhileshewasenviousofmine.Yetneitheroneofuswastrulywhattheotherthought.Bothofushadfalseperceptionsbasedonourowninsecurities.Sittinghere,ourelbowsnearlytouchingonthetable,mydefensesbegantomelt,andIrealized

somethingIhadn’trecognizedbefore:Wewerenolongerjusttwowomenfromoppositebackgrounds.Wewereinasisterhoodoffearandcomparisonthatkeptusinaplaceofmistrustandloneliness.Weheldourselvesuptooneotherandalwayscameupshort.Eachofustakingourweakestpointsandcomparingthemtotheother’s

strongest.Eachofushidingbehindourstrengthsandwearingthemlikearmor.

“Oh,Bridgette,ifyouonlyknewthetruth—howmuchI’vestruggledtobeagoodmomandhaveagoodmarriagewiththechallengesweface.MaybeImadeitlookeasybecausethat’swhatIwantedyoutosee.Thetruthis,Ifailwaymoreoftenthan

Isucceed.Idon’tmultitaskwell,andI’malwaysjugglingmorethanIcanhandle.Mypantsarehemmedwithducttape.Icanneverfindmatchingsocks.I’mdisorganizedanddistracted.”Isighed.“Allthistime,I’vebeenintimidatedbyyou.IwasconvincedIcouldnever

measureuptohowsmartandcompetentandtalentedyouare.”

Vulnerable,exposed.Butfinallygenuineandreal.Ihadputmyheartoutthere,andnowIheldmybreath.Pleasedon’thurtme.

Tomyrelief,shecradleditgently.

“Wow.”Bridgettepulledthewordoutlikesofttaffy.“Ithinkwehavealottolearnfromeachother.”Inodded,swallowingthelumpinmythroat.

“Tellmemoreaboutthatducttapetrick.”Shechuckled.“I’vegotsomepantsthatneedhemming.”

TwilightwasfallingasBridgetteandIsteppedoutsideontotheporch.Itwastimeformetoheadhome.Thelatespringairwascoolonmyskin,belyingthewarmththatusuallyushereditselfinthistimeofyear.Icouldseethehorsesgrazingintheadjacentpasture,justafewyardsnorthofBridgette’shouse.Theirsoftnickersand

blowingsoundstoldmetheywerethinkingaboutheadingbacktotheirownbarnforthenight.Justthen,alittlesetoflongearscameforwardtocheckoutthemovementintheyard.Littlebaby.HowIadoreyourmixed-upgenepool.

Bridgettepulledherbeadedscarfaroundhershouldersandpointedouta

lonebloomamidthespentgreensofearlierflowers.“Lookatmylastpurpleiris.Alltheotheronesbloomedweeksago,andthisonefinallyopenedupyesterday!It’sallbyitself.Idn’titgorgeous?”

“Beautiful!”Iadmiredthefrillypetalsofthelastiris,standingsotallandproud.

“Gottalovethelatebloomer.”Welaughed.

AndthenIturnedtoherandwhispered,“IthinkI’malatebloomer,Bridgette.IfeellikeI’mlatetoeverything...latetofiguringthingsout,latetofriendships,latetofindingmywholepurposeinlife.”Itookabreath.“But

maybethat’sokayifwhatI’llgetintheendisaspectacularfinishlikethis.”

“Well,metoo,”Bridgettesaid.“Metoo,girl.Bettertobloomlate,thantoneverbloom,right?”

Wesmiledateachotherinthegatheringdarknessandhigh-fivedoverourheads,fingerscatchingasourhandsdropped.Howcouldithave

takenmesolongtoseethisjewelofafriendrightundermynose?Perhapsshe’dbeenofferingherfriendshipallalong,andIwastoobusybeingstoicandself-sufficient.Tooworriedshe’ddiscovermyflawsandrejectme.Decliningthefirstandsecondoffersonaccountofthat’showIdoit.Circling,

fearingmistreatment,butreceivingkindnessinstead.Ihadbeensofoolish.

ThankYou,God,forthirdchances,andoftentimesmore.AndforSouthernsteelmagnoliaslikeBridgette.

Shehadhelpedmeunderstandsomethingimportant.Alifewelllivedisaboutcharacter—that’strue.It’swhenwhat’sontheinside

—love,generosity,faith,joy,andallthatgoodstuff—showsontheoutside.Butit’salsoaboutthepeoplewhoselivesyouareapartof.Thoseyouletin...thosewhomyouallowtoseeyourmostvulnerablepart—thesidethatisn’tperfect,doesn’thaveittogether,doesn’thaveeverythingfiguredout.It’s

whenyouquitcomparingandstophidingthatyoustarttobloom.

Isawthatcharacterreallymeansnothingwithoutpeopletoshareitwith.Whenitcomesdowntoit,characterisreallyonlyasgoodastherelationshipsaroundyou.Honesty,love,generosity,andtruthmusthaveanobject,ortheyremaintheoriesrather

thanbecomingrealitiesinourlives.Proverbs22:1says,“Chooseagoodreputationovergreatriches;beingheldinhighesteemisbetterthansilverorgold.”It’sinyourfriendships,yourcommunity,andyourfamilythatcharactermakesallthedifference.

Maybealifewelllivedisaboutwearingyourheartonyoursleeve,yourdonkeysoul

ontheoutside,justlikeourlittlemulenextdoor,withhisdistinctlightmuzzleandsoftlycircledeyes.Hecouldn’thidehisshadypaternity,evenifhewantedto.Butbecauseofit,welovehimallthemore.Earstoobig,tailtooodd...ohdearbaby.

It’slettingtheloveandthefear,thejoyandthesorrows,theconfidenceandtheinsecurities—allofit,everybitofit—showwithoutshame.It’sreachingoutandlearningtotrustinthekindnessthat’saroundyou,andallowingotherstoknowtherealyou.

Andthat’swhengenuinelovehappens.Betterlatethannever.

Wearyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve.Awell-livedlifeisanauthenticlife.

Drought.TheyearFlasharrived,Texaswashithardbyitsworstdryspellsincethe1950s.Rancherswereforcedtoselloffherds,andfarmerslostentirecropsfromthelackofrainfall.Reservoirswerehittingrockbottom,exposingoldtiresandradiatorsintheirfissuredlakebeds.Itseemedthatoneverystreetcornerandin

everybarbershop,coffeeshop,andconveniencestore,casualconversationwasmarkedbyweatherspeculation.

“It’stheLaNiñaeffect,”awiryranchertoldmeoverhisStyrofoamcoffeecupinthechurchfoyer.“That’swhenthecolderairandwaterinthePacificcausedrierconditionsinthecentral

plainsandsouthwesternpartsofthecountry.Ifwecouldjustgetthatjetstreamtomove...”HeexplainedthatwhatwereallyneededwasElNiño—theoppositeofLaNiña—todumpboatloadsofrainonus.

Otherswerecertainthatsinisterconspiracieswereatwork.

“Definitelythegovernment,”saidafriendwhowasknowntogetinsideinformationfromInternetsources.“Well,notexactlythegovernment.It’sasecretorganization,whichisrunbythegovernment,tocontrolradiofrequencywavesinordertochangetheweather.”Sheelaboratedatlengthonthehigh-altitudechemical

vaporsintentionallycreatedbyaircrafttoalterweatherpatternsworldwide.Interesting.Whilethistheorydidn’texplainthepurposeofsuchnefariousgovernmentalinterference,itdidmakeforlivelydiscussion.

“Globalwarming,”saidanotherfriend.“Thegreenhousegasesareruining

theplanet.JustlookatthepollutioninAsiaandyoucanseewhywearesuffering.”

Stillothersproclaimedthedroughttobetheresultofrighteousjudgment,aseriousaccusationagainstthestatethatregardsitselfasthebuckleontheBibleBelt.Thisoneseemedcurioustome.Perhapsinsteaditwasourself-righteousness—andnot

theoutrightsinanddebaucherymoreprevalentinothergeographicalareas—thatwastoblame.Still,itwasprobablyagoodideatodosomesoul-searchinganyway.Thegovernorcalledforstatewidevigils,andpeopleeverywhereprayedforrain.Weneededitbadly.

Flashshowedupjustasrainfalltotalswerestartingtoplummet.Bythetimewerealizedthedroughtwasn’tgoinganywhere,hewaspartofthefamily,andnomatterwhatitcostinhayandcare,hewasheretostay.

Hewastheonlyonewhoseemedoblivioustothetroublesaroundhim,andIlovedhangingoutwithhim

asthesunwouldsetonanotheraridday.Ibrushedhissleeksummercoatandappliedflyrepellent.Pickeddirtoutofhishoovesandcarefullycleanedaroundhiseyes.ItseemedFlashsufferedfromthesameallergiesthatwedid,andhiseyeswouldgetwateryfromdustandpollen.Flash’scontenteddemeanorandquiet

appreciationforthetendercarealwaysbroughtmeasenseofcalmasTomandIcontinuedtryingtopatchtogetheralivingandfinishraisingourkidsinthemidstoftheGreatRecession.

YouhadtohandittoFlash:Hemaintainedabusyschedule.Ifhecouldhave

typedupadailyto-dolist,Iamcertainitwouldhavelookedsomethinglikethis:

1.Wakeupamongthecedartrees.

2.Enjoythemorningquiet.3.Wandertotheback

pasture.4.Followthetrailtothe

barnandcheckonbreakfastsituation.

5.Eathay.6.Solveworldproblems.7.Nap.8.Checkresidentmesquite

treesforleaves.9.Finddelicateflowersto

nibble.10.Moseytofrontpasture.11.Scratchbodypartson

fenceposts.12.Socializewithneighbors

overfence.

13.Munchontreebarkandweeds.

14.Standnearboisd’arctreeandwaitforsomeonetopickupfruitandthrowittome.

15.Bray.(Forbestresults,dothiswithoutwarning.)

16.Nap.17.Checkon“peopleactivity”

neargate.18.Loiternearbarn.

19.Takeadirtbathinfavoriterollspot.

20.Poopindesignatedpiles.(Doseveraltimesaday,notparticularlyscheduled.)

21.Bird-watch.22.Callitaday.

Flash’sdaysweresofull,it’sawonderhefititallin.

AftercheckingonthewaterlevelinhisbucketandfindingFlashfinishingup#2(enjoythemorningquiet)andstartingon#3(wandertothebackpasture),IpackedasacklunchandgrabbedmyearbudssoIcouldheadtoamuralproject.Tomloadedmyladdersandpaintsupplies.Hewouldspendthedayworkingwithhisfather

onalittlesidebusinessthatbroughtinsomeextraincome.Thedaypromisedtobeaninterestingone,asI’dneverpaintedasceneonawallofaroomthathousedanindoorswimmingpoolandfeltexcitedabouttheprospect.

“Remember,LaurenandRobertandMeghanandNathanwillbehomeforthe

weekend,”TomsaidashekissedmyforeheadthroughtheopenExplorerwindow.“Tryandwrapitupearlysowecanorderpizzaandgetamoviegoing.”

“Can’twait,”Isaid.Nothingsoundedbetterthanaweekendofcomfortfoodandhangingouttogether.Maybe

Icouldgetthemurallaidoutandtheunderpaintingdonebytheendoftheafternoon.

Ignoringthecheck-enginelightthathadbeenlituponthedashboardforweeks,IputtheExplorerintoreverse.AloudsqueakemanatedfromthefrontendasIrolledbackward.Well,thiswasnew.Myexcitementforthedaydisappearedinaninstant.

Ihitthebrakes,andTomandIgrimacedateachotherasoureyesmet.

Well?myfacesaid.Notimetolookatit,his

expressionreplied.Myeyesnarrowed.Ihate

thisbucketofbolts.Iknow.Heshruggedin

sympathy,palmsraised.Metoo.

“Comearoundthehouseandparkinback,nexttotheyellowJag.”Myclient’ssultryvoiceoozedthroughtheentryspeakerastheheavyirongateswungopen.Ipulledthroughthearchesontotheexpansivepropertyandfoundaspottoparknearthefleetofvehiclesinthedetachedsix-cargarage.NomatterhowslowlyIcrept

along,thatsqueakfromtheExplorerechoedoffthecourtyardwallsasIrattledthevehicleintoplace.Lovely.

AyellowJaguar,ablueMercedes,aHUMMER,aconvertibleBMW,andablackLexuswereneatlylinedupandpolishedintheir

spaces.I’msogladIgotacarwashontheway—notthatitmakesmuchdifference.

Thehomeownerwasthewifeofamanwhohadacquiredhiswealthintheoilbusiness.Asweheadedforthepool,shepointedoutallthetreasuresshe’damassedfromheroverseastravels.

“You’veprobablyneverbeentoChina,butIfellinlovewithAsianartsandcraftsandbroughtsomelargepieceshomewithme.Theycostafortunetoship,butthey’reworthit.”Hermonologuewaspunctuatedwithoddinflectionsthatfeltliketinypinpricksundermyskin,andwewereonlyminutesintotheday.

Sheintroducedmetotheotherservicepeopleon-site:thecardetailguy,thecleaninglady,thewindowguy,thefireplaceguy.Iquicklydiscoveredthatshe’dhiredmeasmuchforconversationasforpainting.Unfortunately,Ihadnotincluded“talking”inmyestimate,soIwasquiteanxioustosticktothepart

whereapaintbrushwasinhand.Allthekidswouldbehometonight!

Therewasnotaminutetospare.Isurveyedthescopeoftheprojectwhilelookingovermyshoulderassheusheredmealong.BecausefirstIwouldneedatourthroughtheneweastwingandindoor

tenniscourts,apparentlytoproperlyunderstandthefeelofthehome.

Finallywereachedtheend,andIwasdismissedtobeginmyrealjob.“I’llletyougettoit,”shesaidwithawaveofherhand.“I’vegotsomeonlineshoppingtodointheotherroom.”

Thehumidpoolroomwasalsohometoanindoorgarden.Mymuralwouldcoveroneofthewalls,togivetheillusionthatanAsian“garden”continuedonintothedistance.Crammedwithtropicalplants,moss-coveredrocks,andimportedstatues,therewasn’tonelevelspotonthefloorformyladder.Noplacetosetmytools.Dear

me,it’slikeasaunainhere.Icouldfeelatrickleofsweatmakeitswaydownmyneck,andIknewmyworkwascutoutforme.

AsIunpackedmysupplies,itwashardtoshakethatcheck-enginelightandthehumiliatingsqueakthathadannouncedmyarrivalatthissprawlingNorthDallasmanor.Ishouldbegrateful

forthisproject,butman!ItwastoughtofeelthankfulafterparkingnexttothatyellowJag.Andallthosecommentsthatmademefeelsubservient....Ididn’tknowwhattomakeofthem,buttheydidn’thelpmymood.Iwasirritated.

Plugginginmyearbuds,ItunedmyiPodtoworshipmusicinhopesthatitwould

improvemyoutlook.ListeningtoChrisTomlinsing“MyChainsAreGone,”IfeltmypulsebegintosubsidetoanormallevelasIfocusedonthewordsandletthemelodywashoverme.Ipulledoutmysketches,alreadysoggyfromthehumidity,andbegantoplotthemuraldesignontothewall.

Aroundlunchtime,mystomachwasrumblingandmyarmswereachingwhenIheardadistant,mutedpoundingonawindow.Iturnedonmyunsteadyladdertoseetheladymouthingsomethingurgenttomeandpointingtothedoorthatopenedintotheirgameroom.Iremovedmyearbudsand

climbeddownasshewentaroundtoopenthedoortomysauna.

Isteppedintotheair-conditionedroominacloudofmoistureandcaughtaglimpseofmyselfinthemirrorabovethebar.Ohforcryingoutloud.No!Myhairwasstucktomyheadlikeagreasysquirrel,mascaracircledmyeyesandrandown

mycheek,andagreenmustachegracedmyupperlipwhereI’dsmudgedpaint.IlookedlikeaGoth-inspiredbaglady.AndIwasprettyconfidentthatmydeodoranthadfailed.ItwasthefullpackageofAwful.

Myclient,ontheotherhand,smelledoffreesiaandoilmoney.Inhermanicuredfingerswasacatalogofthe

latestMercedesmodels,whichshelaidopenonthetablenexttous.

“Idesperatelyneedyourhelp,”sheimplored.“Youhaveanartisticeye.Ican’tdecidewhichMercedestobuy:theclassicdark-graysedanorthehotlittleredconvertible.Whichdoyouthinkmakesthebest

statement?”Sheblinkedatmewithherflawlessmakeupandwaited.

Ilookedbackatherwithmyraccooneyesandmydrippyhair,clenchingmypaint-coveredfingersbehindmyback.

AndIfeltaboutaninchtall.

Iwasangry.Ifeltbelittledandsmallandungrateful.Iwassweatyandbitter.

Um,haveyaseenmyawesomevehicleoutthere?DoyoureallythinkI’mqualifiedtotellyouwhichcarmakesthebeststatement?

Howabouttheonethatdoesn’tsqueak?Yeah,thatone.Pickthatone.

ButIpointedtotheredcoupewithmyknuckleandheardmyselfsay,“Oh,taketheredone!It’ssportyandflashyandfun!”Didmylaughsoundnaturalandlight?BecauseIreallywantedtosoundnaturalandlight.

Therestoftheconversationblurred,alongwiththefinalhoursof

roughing-inthepainting.AsIthrewmybrushesandtoolstogethertogohome,sheinsistedthatItakeeverythingoutagaintotouchupafurniturepiecesheneededforapartythatweekend.Inmymind,itwasanotherstrangestabtoputmeinmyplaceandkeepmelongerthanIwanted.

Squeakinghome(withoutair-conditioning,Imightadd)intheredExplorerthatmadearealstatement,IlashedoutatGodforHislackofcare.Weeksbetweenprojectsandthentogetthisone,workingforsomeonewithasenseofsuperiority?Iknewtheeconomywashurtingeveryone,notjustthefarmersandranchersandartists,butI

expectedalittlebettertreatmenthere.Iwassickofthisrecession.Iwastiredofcuttingexpenses,beatendownbythatorangelightblinkingatme.Andmyhairstillstucktomyhead,althoughnowmattedintoacrispymess.IfeverIneededthosehighlights,itwasnow.It’sjustthattherewasneverquiteenough.Neverenough

money,neverenoughtime,neverenoughsuccess,neverenoughofanythingtogoaround.

WhenIfinallyarrivedhome,Iturnedofftheengineandsatinthedrivewayforamoment.Flashwasatthefencetogreetme,sidesheavingasheairedupforaloudbellow.Notnow,Flash.

Spareme.Isighedthroughpuffedcheeksbutgotoutofthecartoseehimanyway.Thekidswerewaitinginside,butIneededafewmomentstodecompress—andhey,whynotgetblastedbyadonkeyfoghornwhileIwasatit?Icoveredmyearsinanticipation.

Flash’slipspulledbackandhisheadcameforwardashereleasedthebrayinanexplosionofsound.

HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw!

Hesubsidedmomentarily,thenletforthagain.HEE-haw,HEE-haw,HEE-haw!

“Goodtoseeyou,too,buddy.”Myshoulderswereslumpedindefeat,butsadly

Flashiscluelesswhenitcomestoreadingbodylanguageandpaidnoattentiontomyneedtoregroup.

Helookedexpectantlyatme,thenpointedlyatthegreenhorseapplesonthegroundnearmyfeet.Inoticedhe’dpositionedhimselfstrategicallyneartheboisd’arc(pronounced“bo-

dark”)treejustoutsidehisfence.Mostpeoplecallthiskindoftreeahedgerowtreeorhorseappletreebecauseofitsoddlime-greenfruit,whichlooklikeoversized,pebblytennisballs.

They’rerockhardandworthlesstohumans,buthorsesanddonkeyslovethem.Flashhasperfectedtheartofeatingone,which

requiresholdingitagainstthegroundwithhismouthwhilebitingoffahunkwithhisteeth.Hethenchewsthestickymouthful,withgreenslobberdribblingout,smackinghislipswithrelish.

Ahem.Rachel,lookatme.Yes.Nowlookatthegroundrightthere.Hecockedhis

head,andhiseyessentinvisiblearrowstothefruit.Icouldnotmisshisintent.

Obediently,Ipickedupahorseappleandchuckeditoverthefencetohim.Itrolledtoastopnearhisfrontfeet.Hisheadlungedandhedugintoitgreedily,thejuicesquirtingoutashebitdown.Ileanedagainstthetreeandwatchedhimchewthewoody

pulpwithhiseyeshalf-closedindelight.Hepolisheditoffintwomorechompsandimmediatelyimploredmeformore.Afreshonecrashedtothegroundwithathud,soIpickeditupandhelditjustbeyondhim.

“What?Youwantthis,huh?Huh?”

Icouldn’thelpbutsmilealittleatFlash’sexpression.Hislipsaresonimble,Iswearhecouldpickalockwiththem.Heraisedonesideofhisupperlipandflaredhisnostril,asifheknewIwasteasinghim.Aswiftnodofhisheadtoldmetogetseriousandhanditover.

“Okay,okay.Hereyougo.”Hetookitfrommyhandandsetitdownonthegroundwithhisteeth.Then,likethegentlemanhecouldbe,hebroughthisheaduptosaythankyou.Irubbedtheinsidesofhisearswithmyfingers,andhewasonlytoohappytoputoffeatinguntiltheattentionwasover.Ilookedaroundathisbarren

pastureandmarveledathow

hemanagedtothrivewithsolittlegrassgrowingfromtheparchedground.

It’sremarkable,really.Flashfindsedibledelicacieseverywhere.Heeatsweedsthatwouldinsulthorses,andhefavorsdrynativegrassesthatevencowsturnuptheirnosesat.Madeforthedesert,thedonkeyisundauntedbydrought—anaturalbrowser

whochoosesleaves,bark,thistles,andbrushwheneasygrazingisn’tavailable.

IlovewatchingFlashsingleoutthespecificplantshelikes,nomatterhowsmall,andremovethemfromthesurroundinggrowthwiththeskillofasurgeon.Heselectsbladesofgrass,bitesthemin

half,andeatshisfavoriteparts,likeaconnoisseurofvegetation.

Flashfindsparticulardelightintheleafyfrondsofmesquitetreesthatgrowinandaroundhispasture.Somehowheisabletoavoidthegiganticthornsashegraspsasmallbranchwithhisteeth,likeaSpanishflamencodancerwitharose.Thenhe

slideshismouthdowntotheend,strippingtheleavesashegoesalong.You’dthinkhewaspoppingcaviarintohismouth,heenjoysitsomuch...withnaryascratchendinguponthosebiglips.

Betweenhisdailyto-dolist,hisappetiteforweedsandleaves,andtheservingsofhayinthebarn,Flashwas

livinglikeaking.Well,Iwasgladsomebodywasaroundhere.Whatacharacter.

Withmymoodlifting,IgaveFlashafarewellkissonthenoseandjoinedthefamilyinside.LaurenandRobert;Meghanandhernewfiancé,Nathan;andGraysonallcheeredasIwalkedinthedoor.

“Nowthepartycanstart!”Theyknewhowtomakemefeelgood,andIshedthelastvestigeofbitternessovermydayastheyenvelopedmeinwarmgreeting.

Themorningcoffeegaveoffitslife-sustainingaromaasIputteredaroundthekitchenin

myrobe.Pizzaboxeslitteredthecounter,alongwiththedishesthathadbeenleftindisarraythenightbefore.Noneofushadwantedtomissthemoviebytakingtimetocleanup.I’denjoyacupofcoffeebeforethecrewawokeandbeforeembarkingonthecleaningeffort.

Mycellphoneinterruptedthequietmoment.SoearlyonaSaturday?ItwasBridgette,callingfromherfamilyhomeinLouisiana,andsomethinginhervoicesoundedoff.

“What’sgoingon,Bridgette?”Iasked,andIheardhertakeashakybreathontheotherend.

“Rachel,”shesaid.AndIknewinstantlythatitcouldn’tbegood.

“Ifoundalump.”Thewordsnooneever

wantstohear.Thewordsnooneever

wantstosay.Alump?Please,God,no.Myheartstopped,andI

reachedforthekitchencounterasmykneesbuckled.

“No.No!What?How?Bridgette,areyouokay?”

“Theyaredoingabiopsy,andhopefullyit’snothing.It’sprobablynothing,right?ButIcan’ttellMamayetbecauseofherheartcondition,andIdon’twanttotellmykidsuntilafterIknowsomethingforsure.”Hervoicewobbled.“Ijust...Ijustwantedyoutoknow.

You’retheonlyoneoutsidemyfamilywhoIcancallrightnow.Ineedyoutoknowwhat’shappening.Ineedyoutopray.”

Tearsoffearandanger.NotBridgette.Notmysteelmagnolia.NotthiswomanwhohadgivenFlashadifferentname,whosharedherperennialsandforgedanunexpectedfriendshipwith

me,thegirlwhodidn’tthinksheneededafriend.Irefusedtobelieveit.

Butthecancerwasreal.Anditwasbig.Andthereweresurgeries,andchemoandradiation.Shewassick,andhertinyfiguregoteventinierasshelostweightduringhertreatment.Herhaircameoutinclumpsuntilsheshaveditalloff.

Andthroughallofit,Bridgettewastheonewhowasstrong.TomandIbroughtchickendinnersandflowersandmadecards,butitfeltsomeagerinthefaceofsomethingthisenormous.Mostly,weprayed.Please,dearJesus.Healher.Doamiracle.Wewantedaninstantzap.Abeamfrom

heaventotakeawaythecancerinonebigblazeofglory.

Butitseemedthathermiraclewouldunfoldinthelong,slowjourneyofmodernscienceandhospitalwaitingrooms.Herrecoverywouldeventuallybefoundinthecareofexcellentdoctorsandnursesanddrugtherapies.Intheend,wedidn’tcarewhat

formthehealingtook,andwefeltgratefulforeachsteptowardremission.

Inthemiddleofhermonthsoftreatment,westartedanewdesignprojecttogether.IwatchedassomethinglikelightemanatedfromBridgetteinawayI’dneverseenbefore.Thereshestood,baldasabilliard,conductingmeetingsand

drawingupplansandexecutingherdesigns.She’dclutchachairduringahotflash,peeloffalayerofclothing,wipeherneck,andjustkeepgoing.

ShesurroundedherselfwithfamilyandfriendsanddrankineveryScriptureabouthealing.ShedancedwithSteveonthejob-sitefloorandworebright,

giganticearringsandcolorfulscarves.Itwaslikeshesqueezedallthegoodnessoflifeintoeachpreciousday.Shehadneverbeenmorebeautifulorradiant.AndIlovedherallthemore.

“Rachel,youcannotbelievehowliberatingitistobecompletelybald,”Bridgettetoldmeoneday.Thewigsthatshe’dso

carefullyselected,andwassocertainshe’dwear,madeherscalpitch.Shesaidshefeltfakewhensheworethem.Soshedecidedtomeettheworldsanshair.“Ineverrealizedhowgooditwouldfeeltoletgoofallthatpridethatwassowrappedupinmyhair,andtojustsay,‘ThisiswhoIam.’”Shethrewherarmswideandraisedherfaceskyward,open

andfree,thankfulforlife,andforbreathingandloving.Shegrabbedmyhandandwhispered,“Godissogood.”

Bridgette,likeFlash,foundawaytothriveinthemidstofherdrought.Itputmyproblemsintoanewperspective.BothBridgetteandFlashseemedtohavediscoveredthesecrettolivinginabundance,despitethe

oddsagainstthem.Watchingthem,IknewIhadsomesoul-searchingtodo.

“Standwherefruitisfalling,”Iwroteinmyjournalthatsummer.Ididn’tknowwhythatphrasecaughtinmymind,butitdid.Thoseworthlesshorseapplesthatlitteredtheyard—theybecametreasurestoadonkeystuckinabarrenlandscape.

Andtheweedsandleavesthateveryoneelseoverlooked—theyweresustenanceandlifetohim.Somewhere,somehow,inthemiddleofdrought,abundancecouldbefound.AndIhadnearlymissedit,becauseIwaslookingforeasygrazing.

IthoughtbacktotheyellowJagclient,theladywhohadeverythingmoney

couldbuy.NowthatIwaspastfeelinglikeafeverish,greasysquirrelandhadinvestedinsomewaterproofmascara,Icouldthinkalittlemoreclearlyaboutthatwholeincident.

FromthemomentI’ddriventhroughtheimposinggateandpulledupnexttothefleetofluxuryvehicles,I’dfocusedonalltheshiny

materialthingsinfrontofme.Iwasoccupiedwiththoughtsoforthodontia,carrepair,andthecostofhamburger.It’sgroundmeat,people.Notsteak!Icertainlywasn’tlivinginabundance,butIsuddenlyrealizedthatthewifeIsoenvied,whofelttheneedtojabthelessfortunatesateveryturn,wasn’teither.

HadIglimpseddisappointmentinherface—there,amidherbeautifulsurroundings?Iwonderedifthestepchildrenshementionedresentedher,andifshewishedherhusbandwerehomemoreoften.Shefilledherdayswithshopping,rearranging,lunches,andparties,butbeneathitall,

therewasfearthateverythingwoulddisappearwiththeonsetofageandwrinkles.

Shewasgraspingatalifestylethatshouldhavebroughtpeace,butinsteaditonlyheightenedherinsecurity.Peoplewhohaveenoughneverneedtopointouteveryoneelse’slack.Icouldseethatnow.Abundantlivingmustbe

aboutsomethingdeeperandmorelastingthanabankaccount.

IheadedtothepasturewithmynotebookandBible,thistimewantingtogettotheheartofthisideaoflivinginabundance.Thedriedmesquitepodsthatswayedinthehotwindsoundedlike

MexicanmaracasasIdustedoffthegreencampchairnearthefirepit.

Rightoncue,Flashapproachedandnuzzledmyshoulder,thenlingerednearbytokeepmecompany.Hedelvedintothesmallstandoftreesandfoundabranch,shoulderheight,thathecouldrubagainst.Workingclockwisearound

hisframe,hescratchedeveryinchatthatlevelbeforemovingontoatallerbranchforhisheadandneck.Iguessthistimeheactuallyreadmybodylanguagethatsaid“I’mdeepinthought”andfiguredhe’dtakecareofhisownneeds.

IfeltlikethepersoninProverbs6:6whowastold,“Gototheant...considerits

waysandbewise”(NIV).OnlyIwasgoingtothedonkey,theancientanimalwhohappenedtoshowupinmanysignificantstoriesrecordedintheBible,aswellasinthelivesofthisaveragefamilyinTexas.Wasitcoincidence?Ibegantothinkmaybeitwasn’t.Sohowwas

itthatFlashalwayshadenough?Whatwashissecretofabundance?

MyeyesfoundHabakkuk3:17-19,whichdescribesadesolatescene:

Eventhoughthefigtreeshavenoblossoms,

andtherearenograpesonthevines;

eventhoughtheolivecropfails,

andthefieldslieemptyandbarren;

eventhoughtheflocksdieinthefields,

andthecattlebarnsareempty...

Wow,nowthat’sdrought.Soundsfamiliar.

YetIwillrejoiceintheLORD![emphasisadded]

IwillbejoyfulintheGodofmysalvation!

TheSovereignLORDismystrength!

Hemakesmeassurefootedasadeer,

abletotreadupontheheights.

Clearly,theseversesaresayingthatjoyandstrengtharefoundinGod.Evenwhenthereisdrought.Despitealltheoddsagainstthem.Inthefaceofdespair.Inthemidstofyourtroubles.Okay,Icouldseethat.Buthow,exactly,doesitwork?

Ahotbreathofwindcurledthepages,andIsmoothedthembackdown.Flashabandonedtheself-servescratchingpostandsteppedclosetomychairtosniffthebookinmylap.Iknewhecouldn’tread,buthepretendedtoanyway,hislipsmovingeversoslightlyasifformingthewords.Inudged

himandasked,“Whatdoyouthink,Flash?Isthereananswerinthere?”

Heflappedhisearsasiftosay,“Seeforyourself.Ican’tdoyourworkforyou.”Atthis,Ipushedhisheadoutofthewaytolookforaclue—andfounditnexttothe“yet.”

“YetIwill”toldmewhatIneededtoknow.

Imustchooseit.Imustchoosetorejoice.Imustchoosegratitude.ImustchoosetolooktoHimforstrength.Imustchoosetofindfruit.Itisamatterofmywill.

Ah.

Thiswholeabundancethingstartswithadecisiontoseethegoodnessaroundyouandgivethanksinyourcircumstances.FirstThessalonians5:18says,“Nomatterwhathappens,alwaysbethankful,forthisisGod’swillforyouwhobelongtoChristJesus”(TLB).Itisinbeingfullypresentandfullyengagedintheactof

gratitudethatjoycanbereleasedinandaroundyou.IntentionalthanksgivingiswhenyouhumblyreceivewhatGodgraciouslygivesyouandofferpraisetoHiminreturn,creatingagrandcircleofabundance.

Flash’sto-dolistisasimplifiedformofabundantliving.Heawakenseachmorningunderthecedarsand

enjoysthegiftofanewday.Hemoseystothebarntoseewhathasbeenprovided.Helooksforsustenanceinunexpectedplaces.Heeatshardshipforbreakfast.Hetakesthethingsthataredisdainedbyothersandrelishesthenutrientshefinds.Heasksforhelpfromhiscommunity.Hestrategicallypositionshimselfforfruit.He

livesinthemoment.Hepoopsconscientiously.Heisgratefulforsimplepleasures.Hechoosescontentment.

Andnoneofitisdependentonmaterialwealth,orevenhealth,asBridgetteshowedme.Shewrestledwiththefearthatcamewiththecancer,theweaknessthatfollowedthesurgeries,andtheexhaustionthatradiation

brought.Andthroughitall,shefoundawaytoseeGod’sloveineverystepofherjourney.Shechosetotreasurethegiftsthataccompaniedthepain:thegiftsoffriendship,offamily,andofdailygraces.Sheeventreasuredthegiftoffreedomthatcamewithherlossofhair.Ifthat’snotlivinginabundance,Idon’tknowwhatis.

“Standwherefruitisfalling”meansthis:“Positionyourselfwherethegoodstuffis.”Findthegoodnessandgetthere.Justgetthere.Becausethegoodnesscanonlycomewhenyou’restandingintherightplace....

Iwasstartingtoseethepicturenow.Allofitisadecision.Achoicetosavor

thegraceofeachmomentandtoexperienceabundanceintheveryactofgratitude.

IsmiledasIthoughtofTomtakingmyhandintheHomeDepotparkinglotoneTuesdayafternoonandtwirlingmearoundandintoadip,fornoreasonatall.Ithoughtofthekidsandthepizzaboxes,andpilinginonthecouchtowatchmovies

andenjoypopcornandmilkshakestogether.ThesqueakyfrontendoftheExplorerannouncingmyconspicuousarrivalattheyellowJagmansion.

ThehonorofbringingbakedchickentoBridgette,whobeathercancerinhighstyle,withherbigearringsandirrepressiblejoy.Thelaundryandthebillsandthe

dailinessofliving,allmingledwiththesparklesofeveningfireflies,themorningcoffee,andthecampchairssetaroundafirepit,inapasturewhereadonkeylingers.

Youcanstandwherefruitisfalling.OnahotAugustday,inthemiddleofdrought,

thereisfruitthatlookslikeworthless,hard-as-rockodditiesofnature.

Butitisso.Much.More.Thanthat.

Itisthe“yet”thatsetsjoyatopamountainoftrials,andplantsaflagoftriumphthereforalltosee.Itisthe“eventhough”thatseespasttheemptystallsanddried-upfieldsandvineswithno

grapes,andsetsitssightsonaSaviorwhoisalwaysenough.ItisthearrowthatpointstoaGodwhoselavishgracegivesandsustainslife,andmakesourfeetdanceupontheheights.Itisthe“Iwill”thatchoosesdailygratitude,andaheartthatrejoicesinHisloving-kindness.

Itisthesecretofabundance.

Standwherefruitisfalling.Thesecretofabundanceisinchoosinggratitude.

Yourdonkeyisbeingapest,”Tomannouncedashewipedhisbootsonthematoutsidethekitchendoor.“Ican’tgetanythingdonewithhimlookingovermyshouldersoclosely.”

Hesteppedinsidetowashupforlunch,frustratedthathehadn’tgottenmoreaccomplishedonhisbarnremodelingproject.Hewas

convertingtwostallsintoanenclosedworkspace,andthemorning’sgoaloflayingasubfloorhadnotendedwell.

Ifinishedmakingahamsandwichandopenedabagofchips.Ithadn’tescapedmynoticethatTomhadreferredtoFlashas“yourdonkey.”Uh-huh.It’sjustlikewhenoneparenttriestoshifttheresponsibilityfordisciplineto

theotherparent.“Yoursonneedsagoodtalkingto.”Or“Yourdaughterexceededhertextinglimit.”It’sasubtlewayofsaying,“It’syourturntotakecareofthis.”

So,likeeverygoodparent,Igotdefensive.

“He’sjustcurious,that’sall,”Isaid,excusingFlash’sbehavior.“Youknowhehastoseeeverythingthat’sgoing

on.Plus,you’rehisleader,andhewantstobenearyou,soweshouldcuthimsomeslack.”

Don’tgetmewrong;Ilovethatdonkeytodeath,butI’mnottakingthefallforanymischiefhepullsinthebarn.

“Well,he’snohelpwhatsoever,”Tomreplied.“Hehasn’tdonealickofworksincehe’sbeenhere,

andnowhe’skeepingmefromdoingmine.”Hisexpressionwasoneofmockdisgust,andIdetectedindulgenceinhisvoice.Bigsofty.

Thefactis,Flash’spersonalworkethicdoesleavesomethingtobedesired.Asimpressiveashispasturetrailsare,theyareabouttheonlythinghe’s

actuallyworkedatsincehearrivedonourdoorstep.Buteventhatjobissuspect,becauseweknowthereisfood,orwater,orarollinthedustattheendofeachofhispaths.Notexactlywhatyou’dcallanaltruisticeffort.

No,I’dsaythatFlashthinksofhimselfasmoreofasupervisorthanaworker.Hedefinitelyhasmanagement

potential—I’llgivehimthatmuch—althoughhispeopleskillscouldusesomehelp.He’sabitofamicromanager.Andthisiswherewerunintoproblems.

Caseinpointwasthisstall-to-workspaceprojectinourbarn,wheretheonlydoorinthisopen-conceptstructureisforthetackroom.Thestallsarepartitions,andthe

remainingareaiscoveredbutopentothepasture,givingFlashfreeaccesswheneverhewants.FlashtookituponhimselftopersonallyoverseetheentirerenovationbystandingdirectlyinTom’swayateveryturn.

HestakedouttheareabetweenTomandhistools,turninghisheadthiswayandthattoinspecteachhammer

blowandwoodcut.Swishinghistailandsniffingtheboxofscrews,heknockedoverthedrillandsteppedonthemeasuringtape.HelappedatTom’swaterbottleanddevouredthecrumbsfromagranolabar.AndhefartedwaytoooftenforTom’scomfort.

“Backup,Flashol’buddy.”Tompushedhimastepbackwardsohecouldreachhiscarpenter’slevel.FlashcompliedforaminutebutwassimplyincapableoflettingTomdothenextpartonhisown.Crouchedoverthefloorjoisttosecureanewbeamintoplace,TomfeltFlash’swarmbreathnearhisear.The“supervisor’s”

muzzlehairstickledthenapeofTom’sneckashemeasured.Notsatisfiedwithhisvantagepoint,FlashinchedcloserandhunghisheadoverTom’sshoulderforanevenbetterlook.Heofferedhisopinionwithaslightshakeofhislips.Upalittlehigherontheright,heseemedtosay.

“Hey,howamIsupposedtogetanythingdonewithyourestingyourheadonme?”TomreachedanarmaroundFlash’sneckandgavehisnosearubwiththeotherhand.“WhatIreallyneedyoutodoiscarryaloadoflumberfromthetrucktothebarn.”Atsuchaludicroussuggestion,Flashcockedhisearssidewayswithalookthat

said,“You’rekidding,right?”Tomeasedhisbodyfrom

beneathFlash’sheadandstooduptogetsomesuppliesthatwerestoredinthetackroom.Openingthedoortothenarrowroomandsteppinginside,hefoundwhatheneededonthebackwall.

Clunk,clunk.Clunk,clunk.

BeforeTomhadachancetoturnaround,fourhooveshadsteppedupintothespacebehindhim,theclunksechoingonthewoodfloor.

“Seriously,Flash?”Tomslowlyturned,armsupoverhisheadinthetightspot.Flash’sbodytrappedTomagainsttheshelves,hisforeheadplantedintoTom’schest.“I’mjustgettingan

extensioncord.Youdon’tneedtocheckuponme.”HepressedonFlash’sshoulderstogethimtobackout.Therecouldbenoturningaroundinthere.He’dhavetoexitrumpfirst.

Flashdidn’tbudge.Hejuststoodthereinsilence,blinkingstraightahead.Clearly,hedidn’ttrustTom’sselectionofthetwenty-foot

cord.Theutterburdenofhavingtomanageeverysinglemovethatoccurredaroundheremadehimsighindeepresignation.Oh,theincompetence.

“Okay,youwin.I’llgrabthefifty-footer.”Tompulledthelongercordfromtheshelfandslungitoverhisshoulder.“Happynow?”

Reluctantly,Flashclunkedbackward,offthestep,andintotheopenbarn,knockingoveracanofpaintintheprocess.

“Somuchforbeingaserviceanimal.”Tomteasedhimwithanelbownudge,rightedthecan,andreturnedtohiswork.“You’reabsolutelyworthless.”

Aserviceanimal!Hey!

InspiredbyTom’ssuggestionthatFlashmightbeabletocarryaloadoflumber,Iembarkedonsomeresearchtoseejustwhatadonkeycouldbecapableof.Tomysurprise,anddespiteFlash’sless-than-stellarexample,Ilearnedthatdonkeysarethenumber-oneserviceanimalontheplanet.

Millionsofdonkeysaroundtheglobedothehardworkofhauling,plowing,carrying,milling,andpulling—jobsthatpeopleindevelopingeconomiesrelyonfortheirlivelihoods.DonkeysaretheJohnDeeretractors,thedeliveryvans,thefamilycars,theRamtrucks,andthelowlyservantsoftheThirdWorld.

PhotosofdonkeysladenwithheavyloadsandlookingasiftheyhadsteppedfromthepagesofancientliteraturefilledmyGooglesearches.It’sasiftimestoodstillforthesegentlebeastsofburden,andforthepeopleinpoorcountrieswhosedailysurvivaldependedonthem.

EvenhereinAmerica,donkeysarestillusedforriding,packing,andworking.

Flashhadnoideahoweasyhehaditonourlittleacreage,whatwithhissupervisorypositionandall.Itwashightimehelearnedwhathewasmadefor.

“Mom,ourfriendBarbaraisnotdoingwell.”Meghantuckedastrayredcurlintoherloosebunandbitherlipinworry.“They’vebroughthospiceintotakecareofher.”

“Oh,I’mso,sosorry.”IknewhowdifficultthiswasforMeghanandNathan,whowerenowmarried,andtheirsmallcommunityoffriends.

NathanhadbefriendedBarbaraseveralyearsearlierwhenshewouldregularlysitinhistablesectionattherestaurantwhereheworkedduringcollege.

Barbarawasalonely,physicallychallengedwomanwhoneededsomeonetotalktoandoccasionalhelpwitherrandsandtasksaroundherapartment.Nathan,Meghan,

andtheirfriendshadmadethemselvesavailabletoassistherwhensheneededit.

Barbarahadnolivingrelatives,andasherhealthbegantodecline,shecametodependontheweeklyridestothegrocerystoreandcoffeeshopthatthefriendsprovided.Inashortperiodoftime,shebecameunabletoworkandwasforcedtolive

inasmallhotelroom,nearlydestitute.Atfifty-five,Barbarahadagedbeyondheryears,andshewasunderstandablybitteroverhersituation.

“Well,she...canbedifficult,”washowMeghandescribedheronce.“Butthat’sjustBarbara.She’shadahardlife.”ItwasakindwayofsayingthatBarbarawas

notaneasypersontolove.Shehadlonglistsofthingsshewantedhelpwith,butshewasn’talwaysappreciativeoftheassistanceshereceived.

Bynow,thegroupoffriendshadgraduatedfromcollegeandembarkedonnewcareers.Itbecamemorechallengingtomeetherneedsamidtheirgrowingresponsibilities,andBarbara

herselfwasmorecantankerousthanever.Dailychoresbecameunmanageable.Taskslikegettingdressed,takingcareofpersonalhygiene,andpreparingmealswerenearlyimpossibleforher.

ThefriendsjuggledtheirownbusyschedulesanddidtheirbesttohelpBarbarawiththemostbasicneeds.

Meghanarrangedhomehealthcare,scheduledsocialvisits,andevenassumedofficialpowerofattorney,allasshestartedherfirstyearasanelementarymusicteacher.Weworriedthatitwastoomuchforsuchayoungwomantohandle.

ButMeghanandherfriendswereallin.TheyhadtakenonBarbaraasa

personalmissionofmercy—andfoundthemselveslovingthisdifficultwomanwhomtheworldhadallbutforgotten.Whenshecouldnolongergetoutofbed,thestatesteppedinandmovedhertoanursinghome.Andnow,hospicehadarrived.

MeghanbegantomakearrangementsforBarbara’simminentpassing,butthere

werequestions.Whenapersonisawardofthestate,whotakesresponsibilityforherbodywhenshepasses?Whereissheburiedifthereisnoonewhowillvisithergrave?Whatdoyoudowithherbelongingsandpersonaltreasureswhenthereisnofamilymembertotakethem?Whowillperformafuneralforsomeonewhocannotget

outtoattendchurch?Andwhowillcometoaserviceforsomeonewholivedinsuchisolation?

Therewasnooneelse.Thisgroupoffriends

wouldseeBarbarathroughtotheend.

Sadly,shediedasshehadlived—alone,exceptforthecompanyofthehospicenurse

sincenooneelsecouldgetthereintime.

Barbara’smemorialservicewasheldinatinychapelonauniversitycampus.Tuckedundergiganticoaktrees,thestonestructurewashushedasahandfulofpeople—theformercollegekids—filedin.Atableinthefoyerheldcarefullydisplayedphotos

andmementosfromBarbara’slife:herfavoritecoffeecup,thehatshelikedtowear,apoemsheloved.

Meghanhadcollectedpersonalitemsfromherhospiceroomandagonizedoverwhattokeep.Therewasnofamilymembertogiveanythingto.Norelativewhowouldtreasureamemoryorsmileatafadedphoto.There

wasjustasmallgroupofyoungpeople—alittleoasisofloveinalifethathadbeenhard.

TomandIsatinthesecondpewandwatchedasoneofthegirlssetupafloralarrangementshe’dmade;anotherhandedoutaprintedprogram.Thenitwastimetobegin.TwoofBarbara’sfriendsledthesparse

assemblyinsongswithaguitaraccompaniment.Thereinthatsimplechapel,“AmazingGrace”hadneversoundedsweeter,resonatingonthestonewallsandthenfadingintothewinterair.Meghangaveaeulogy,andNathanspoke.Thoughtfulwords,carefullychosen,filledwithaffirmationandhonor.

Weweretheretoremembersomeonewhomtheworldoutsidehadalreadypassedby.Alifethathadbecomevery,verysmallattheend.Alifethat,somewouldsay,heldlittlemeaning.Butsomehow,thisassembledgroupofgrace-filledfriendshadvalidatedherexistencebyservingherinlove.Theyhadgoneoutof

theirway,makingpersonalsacrificesandgivingofthemselves,becausetheybelievedthatservingiswhattheyweremadefor.Barbara’slife,anddeath,matteredtothem.

Amazinggrace!Howsweetthesound...

Fordaysafterward,wewentaboutourworkwithquiethearts,deeplyimpacted

bythelovewe’dwitnessedatthesimpleserviceforthiswoman.Itfeltsacred,andwordsseemedfrivolous,unnecessary.IfilledFlash’shayrackwithhisdailyration,heldhisfaceinmyhands,andscratchedunderhischin.Heseemedtounderstandmyreluctancetotalkandsighed

gentlyasiftofillthespacesleftemptyofmynormalchatter.

Thatsameweek,wewerestunnedtohearthenewsthattworesidentsofourtown—ChrisKyleandhisfriendChadLitttlefield—hadbeenkilledwhiletheyweretryingtohelpsomeoneinthe

community.Ourlocalareawasgrievingthelossoftheseoutstandingmen.

Suddenlyforus,Barbara’spassingwasthrownintostarkcontrastwithKyle’sdeath.ThefamedUSNavySEALwhohadbecomeanationalherowastheepitomeofservicetohiscountry.Hisbestsellingbookandmovie,AmericanSniper,

detailshislifeandcommitmenttofreedom.Self-sacrifice,dedication,honor...hislifewasmarkedbytheseattributes,andittouchedeveryonearoundhim,includingourownfamily.KylehadgivenacoupleoftalksatGrayson’shighschool,whichwasalsoKyle’salmamater.Kylehadinspiredthekidstobecome

thebesttheycouldbeandtoservetheircountryunselfishly.

Wecouldn’tbelievesomeonewhohadachievedsuchgreatnesscouldbefromourobscureTexastown.Hewasjustaguyfromtheclassof1992who’dfoundwhathewasgoodat—andwentontobecomethemostdecorated

sniperinAmericanhistory.Hewasalarger-than-lifehero.

Andnow,hislifehadbeencutshort.

ThefuneralwastelevisedfromCowboysStadiuminnearbyArlington,Texas,andwesatathomeintearsaswewatchedtheceremony.Aflag-drapedcoffin,carriedbyNavySEALs,slowlymadeits

waytothefrontandwassetamiddozensoffloralarrangements.Thefamiliarstrainsof“AmazingGrace,”sungbycountrysingerRandyTravis,echoedthroughtheenormousstructure.Inmovingtribute,decoratedgeneralsspoke,friendsofferedeulogies,andhiswife,Taya,sharedherheartbreak.

Thefollowingday,wejoinedtensofthousandsofmournerslinedupalongthehighwaybetweenDallasandAustintopayourrespects.Facingachillingrainandgustywinds,weheldaflagasthelongprocessionofgovernmentdignitaries,NavySEALs,policeandfiredepartments,familyandfriendsallpassedbyin

silence.Helicoptersflewoverheadasnewscrewscapturedthescenesofenormousflagshungacrossbridgesandoverpasses,andthepeople,youngandold,whoturnedouttohonortheslainhero.

Thepassingofthesetwoindividualswithinsuchashortspanoftimecouldnothavebeenmorestriking.

Theyweresoverydifferent...andyettherewasastrandthatconnectedthem—acommonthreadbeneaththesurfacethathauntedme.One,whowashonoredbythousands,wasrememberedforhisunparalleledservice.Theother,whowashonoredbyatinyhandful,wasrememberedforwhatshe

couldnotgive.Oneservedmany;theotherwasservedbyafew.

Twopeople.Twofunerals.Twogiftsofservice.Itgotmepondering.Thoughonegaveandthe

otherreceived,itwasservicethatgaveeachlifemeaning.

IneededtotalkthingsoverwithFlash,andhesensedmyreadinesstodiscusswhathadtranspired.Asamemberofabreedmadeforservice,Ifiguredhemighthavesomeinsight,despitehislackofactualexperience.PullingupachairinthebarnonacoolFebruaryafternoon,withaStyrofoamcupofcoffeeinhand,soundedlike

justthetickettoenlightenment.

AsFlashnosedhiswaytowardmeinhopesofreceivinganappleslicealongwiththeconversation,IwasremindedofthedonkeyswhohadturnedupinmyInternetsearches—theoneswholookedlikethey’dsteppedoffthepagesofancienthistory

books.Saddledwithloadspiledhigh,pullingheavycarts,orcarryingsun-wizenedmeninturbans,theirnimblehoovesseemedtoechothroughtimeandland—plop—rightintheOldTestament.

TheBiblerecordsdonkeysasbeingvaluableassets.(Nopunintended.)Aman’sworth,backintheday,

wasmeasuredinland,cattle,sheep,goats,anddonkeys.Abitmorecumbersomethantoday’s“what’sinyourwallet”methodoftransactions,donkeyswereahottradecommodity,anditwasalwaysagoodideatohaveacoupledozeninyourbackpocket,sotospeak.Icanonlyimaginewomenapproachingtheirhusbands

aboutsomenewdraperyfabric,onsaleforalimitedtime,astravelingmerchantscamethroughtown.

“Honey,itwillonlycostthreedonkeys!That’sawholedonkeyofftheregularprice!”

Twenty-fivepercentoffhasalwaysbeengreatincentivetobuy.Somethingsneverchange.

Istartednoticingeverymentionofdonkeysinscripturaltext.Listedintermsofwealth,ceremoniallysetapart,riddenbyhistoriccharacters...donkeysarewovenintothefabricofbiblicallife.Atoolforeverydaywork,apropinanarrativestory,asymbolforroyalty.FromAbrahamtoJesus,donkeysserved.One

evenspokeoutloud!Thedonkeywhobore

Mary,themotherofJesus,isonewhoservedincompleteobscurity.Infact,heisnotevenmentionedintheGospels.Buttheeighty-miletrekfromNazarethtoBethlehemwouldlikelyonlyhavebeenpossiblewiththehelpofasturdydonkey,andtraditiontellsusthatMary

madetheuncomfortabletripatopthebackofonesuchanimal.IimagineMary’sbackachewasnodifferentfrommine,makingawalktothepantryforamidnightsnacknearlyimpossible,letaloneajourneybyfoottoadistanttown.Arideonthebonybackofadonkeywouldhavebeenawelcome

alternativetoapainfulpregnantwaddlethroughthedifficultterrain.

AsIlookedatFlash,IpicturedthatChristmasdonkeyinmymind.WhenJosephsaddledhimupandtiedextrapaddingdownforMary’sride,thedonkeycouldnothaveknownhewouldbemakingthetripofalifetime.Whenhestoppedtograzeby

thesideoftheroadandwasurgedonwardbyananxioushusband,theanimalcouldn’thaveimaginedthathisjourneywouldendinastablefilledwithholiness,angelicchoirs,obliviouscattle,andababywrappedinahandmadeblanket.Well,maybehe’dhaveguessedaboutthe“obliviouscattle”part.Imean...cattle,right?Buthecould

nothaveknownthattheentirecourseofhistorywasturningapage,andhewaspartofit.

No.Hesimplywalked.Hedidwhatwasasked.HefollowedJosephfor

eightymiles.Hishalter,madeofroughtwine,probablyrubbedhisnoseashecarriedthecomingSaviorandHisyoungmama.Thisdonkey

troddedalongtherockytrails,thecobblestonedroads,andthedustypathstoferrythepreciouscargothatwouldchangetheworld.

Hedidwhatdonkeysdobest:Heserved.

HowjustlikeGodtouseanotherdonkey,thirty-threeyearslater,tobringtheSavior-KingthroughJerusalemonanother

amazingjourney.HandpickedbyJesus,thisdonkeycouldnothaveknownthatthejobforwhichhewaschosenwouldbringgraceandforgiveness.HecarriedJesusthroughtheunevenstreets,steppingcarefullyovercloaksandpalmbranches,tothefinal,climacticsceneofRedemption.

Hailed,celebrated,famousforhisrole,thisPalmSundaydonkeyisforeverrememberedwheneverthestoryistold.

Buthedidnothingoutoftheordinary,foradonkey.

Hewalked.Hedidwhatwasasked.Hesimplydidwhat

donkeysdobest:Heserved.

Jesus’remarkablelifewasbookendedbytwodonkeyrides.Imaginethat.Thefirsttookplaceinobscurity,toatinystableinalittletown.Itendedwithababy’scry,someswaddlingclothes,andagaggleofshepherdswhocameinfromthefieldsforaglimpseofthePromisedOne.

ThelasttookplaceamidcheeringthrongsandagainstabackdropofPassoveranddeepsocialunrest.Itbroughtallofhumanhistorytoasingle,pivotalpointonthetimelineofeternity.Thisrideendedwithacryfromacross—“Itisfinished!”—andanemptytomb.

Iwasstruckbythepoeticdramaofitall.AmazedbythevividrealizationthatGodusesordinarymeanstodoextraordinaryfeats.There,inthebarnwithmycoffeeandthedonkeywhothinkshe’smidlevelmanagementattheveryleast,Iwasbowledoverbytheservicetheselowliestofcreatureshadrenderedtobringaboutthisstory.It’sas

ifGodchosetounfoldHisplanusingthemosthumbletoolsavailablesoHecouldreachhumankindwithHisgiftofgrace.

Isetmycupdownandbegantopulloutbrushes,rollers,andwoodstainsoIcouldworkonsomesignpostsweweremakingforoneofthecampusesofalargecorporation.Sometimes

Ithinkbestwhenmyhandsarebusy.Ipositionedthepainttrayandpouredinthedarkespresso-coloredstain.

Flashwatchedmyeverymovewithinquisitiveeyes,thensteppedforwardtoinspectthecolorinthetray.Withhisnosejustabovethestain,heseemedtogivemetheokaytoproceed.Ifonlyhooveshadthumbs!(Wetake

beingabletogivea“thumbs-up”soforgranted,don’twe?Imaginehowharditwouldbetofunctionwithhoovesforhands.Andtexting?Impossible.)

Flashapprovedthestackoffour-by-fourpoststhatwereawaitingstainandassembly,butfoundfaultwiththeropethathadtiedthemtogether,whichwas

nowcarelesslytossedaside.Hepickeditupwithhisteethandshookitvigorouslyinfrontofme.Hewasright:Ropesshouldn’tbeleftaround,waitingforsomeonetotriponthem.Chastened,Itooktheropefromhismouth,loopeditaroundmyarm,andhungitonanail.

Postafterpost.Itfeltlikethejobofstainingthemtookforever.ButFlashhunginthere,keepingmecompanyandofferingsilentsuggestions.Atailswishhere,aneartwitchthere.Heguzzledthelastsipofmycoffee,thensteppedontheStyrofoamcupwhenhewasthrough.Hebitoffachunkofthecupandletitdanglefrom

hislipsincomicrelief.Ican’tsayhewasawholelotofhelpwithmyproject,butIbegantoseesomethingabouthimthatmademeunderstandthisideaofserving.

Tom’sjokingcommentwasallwrong:Flashwasn’tcompletelyworthless.

Hewasjustservinginotherways.

FlashwasservingupsomeofthebestsermonsI’deverheard...allwithoutsayingasingleword.

Thosebiblicaldonkeys.Meghanandherfriends.ChrisKyle.Ordinarycharactersfromordinarytowns,whoseservicetoothersmadethemextraordinary.Humbleoneswhohadfoundwhatthey

weremadetodo.Theyservedinobscurity,lookedfornopersonalglory,andsimplygaveofthemselves.

Theywalked.Theydidwhatwasasked.Theydidwhatdonkeys

andpeopledobest:Theyserved.

Intheprocessofserving,theybestowedvalueonthosetheyserved.

Andintheactofgiving,theychangedtheworld.TheybecamepartofGod’sunfolding,amazinggrace.

IrealizedthatGodtakesregularpeople—unassumingindividualswhoarewillingtoplaysupportingroles—andusestheminHisgrandstorythat’sbeingplayedoutoneternity’sstage.Hetakesthosewhoarewillingtobe

saddledup,loadeddown,andgiventhetaskofserving,andHeputstheminplaceswheretheirabilitiescanbestbeused.

Maybeyou’renotaskedtodosomethingnoteworthyorremarkable.Maybeyouaresimplycalledtowalkalongsidesomeoneforeightymiles.Tobeafriendtosomeonewhoneedsafriend.

Ortodothatonekindthingthatnoonewilleverknowyoudid.Maybeit’swashinganeedywoman’slaundry.Maybeit’shelpinghershower.Maybeit’sarrangingflowersatasmallfuneralinatinychapel.Maybeit’sworkingatapostoverseas,awayfromfamilyandfriends,formonthsonend.Maybeit’schangingdiapers,

washingdishes,helpingwithhomework,beingascoutleader,ormowinganelderlyneighbor’syard.

Thisiswhatwearemadefor.

Toserve.Tolove.Togive.AndIcouldseeitso

clearly.

BeingpartofHisgracestorymeansallowingyourlifetobebookendedbytwodonkeyrides.Youenterandyouexit,inhumbleservice.Itmeansthatyouaredefinedbywhatyougive,notbywhatyouhave.Yourlifeismarkednotbytalent,butbycommitment.Notbybeauty,butbysturdyhoovesandawillingheart.

“Beaserviceanimal.Youaremadetoserveinlove.”

Iwrotethewordsinmyjournal,myfingersespresso-coloredfromtheprojectIhadjustfinished.Iknewitwouldtakedaysforthestaintoworkitselfoutfromundermyfingernails.Ohwell.Iturnedmyhandsoverandraisedmypalmsupinasilentprayer.Flashsteppedforwardtosee

iftherewasanythingediblecuppedinside,thenlookedupatmeininquiry.

“Baby,there’snothinghereforyou.”Ishookmyheadandpausedforamoment,wonderingifhe’dunderstand.“I’m...I’mgivingthesehandstoGodrightnow.”Roughandstained,smallandempty.Butreadytowork,willingto

give.Flashnuzzledmypalmsandnoddedinagreement,hisbrowneyesuponmeandsoftearsprickedforward.Heblinkedhisdarklashes,andIputmyarmsaroundhisneck.

Thisdonkey.Thisserviceanimal.ThisGodwhowhisperedthroughhim.

“Letmeserveothersinlove,thewayIwasmadetodo.”Myprayerfloatedpast

thecorrugatedmetalroofandgnarledtreebranchesandintothewinterskyabove.

Beaserviceanimal.Youaremadetoserveinlove.

Therewaschangeinthewind.Notnickelsanddimesfloatingthroughtheair,becauseimaginehowmuchitwouldhurtifyougotpeltedbyrandomcoins.

No,thetypeofchangethatblewinwasdifferent.ItfeltlikeachillyMarchmorning,allgrayanddamp,whenyou’reoutsideinyourjacketwithyourfingers

tuckedintoyoursleevesandshouldershunchedwithchindownagainstthewind.Andoutofnowhere,thereisaflickerofdappledsunlightthatfallsonyourfurrowedforehead,anditfeelswarmforatinymomentbeforeskitteringaway.DidIreallyfeelthat?OrdidIimagineit?

No,thosecloudsaretooheavyforthesuntobreakthrough.

Butthen,abitlater,youfeelthatsunonyourfaceagain,thistimeforacoupleofseconds,justlongenoughforyoutouncurlyourfingerstotrytocatchitbeforeit’sgone.It,too,dartsaway,butyouknowyoufeltit.Youhadtosquintinthebrightness,

andnowthereisafunnypatternontheinsidesofyoureyelidsfromtheunexpectedshaftoflight.Andeventhoughtherestofthedayisstillgrayanddampandchilly,youfeelatinybithopefulandhappyinsidebecauseyouexperiencedthosetwofleetingmoments

(well,maybejustonebecausethefirstonecouldhavebeenyourimagination).

SuddenlyyouthinkaboutEastereggsandthefactthatyouhaven’tusedupallthefirewoodandhaven’twornyourcutebootsenoughthiswinter.Yourealizeyoushouldhaveputtulipbulbsintherefrigeratorweeksago,andit’salreadytoolateifyou

wanttohavebloomsthisyear.TheChristmaswreaththatsomehownevergotpackedupwiththerestoftheholidaydecor(youwereokaywithleavingitoutbecauseitseemed“wintery”andnottoo“Christmasy,”andyoualsodidn’tfeellikeclimbingintotheattictoputitaway)nowseemshorriblyoutofplace.

Springisuponus.Wecan’thaveafakepinewreathonthedoor!

Youthinkaboutallthis,eventhoughit’sjustascoldandmiserableoutasitwastenminutesago.Youcouldn’twaitforahintofsunshineandabreakinthecloudstosignalanewseason,

butnowthatit’shere,yourealizeyouaren’tevenclosetobeingreadyforit.

That’swhatonewaftofchange(maybetwo,dependingonhowyoucountthem)cando.

IstoodatthekitchenwindowandwatchedGraysonhitgolfballsintothefieldjustbeyondthefrontyard.Helineduphisdriver,shiftingweightbetweenfeetandtakingacoupleofshortswingstocentertheballonhisclub.Histongueworkedhislowerlipinconcentration.Hisarmsswungtheclubbackinclassicgolfform.Whack!

Theballflewoutoverthetallgrassandintotheoaksalongthedrycreekbed.

Beau,whooncelovedretrievingballs,satinquietreposenearby,contentwithbeinganarmchairathletethesedays.Hishipsanddecliningeyesightkepthimsidelined,buthenevercomplained.BothGrayandBeauweregettingolder,but

onlyoneofthemwasgettingbiggerandstrongerwitheachyear.Theothertooktonappingandtailwaggingasformsofexercise.GraysonreacheddownandtriedtotalkBeauintofetching,buthewasn’ttookeenonleavinghiscomfyspotonthegrasstofutilelysearchforaballinthethicket.

“IthinkI’mgoingtosetupapracticeareaforGrayinthebarn.”Tom’svoicedriftedovermyshoulderashecameupbehindmetoseewhatwashappening.“He’sreallymotivatedtogetgoodatit,andhewantstopracticehisswingasmuchashecan.Buthe’slosingsomanyballsinthefieldoutthere,andit’sfrustratingtryingtofind

them.”Hescratchedhischin.“I’vegotsomenettingthatwecouldhangacrosstheopening.Thenallwe’dreallyneedtodoismakealittletee-offarea,andwe’dbeset.”

Thissoundedsimpleenough,sotheboyswenttowork.Ofcourse,Flashwasonhandtooverseetheproject.Notellinghowtheywouldhavemesseditup

otherwise.Hewatchedastheyraisedthenettingintoplaceandsecureditonthetopandsides.Halfofthethree-sidedbarnwasopenbutcoveredbythetinroof;thiswouldallowGraysontostandinside,outoftheelements,topractice.

Flashhadlittletosayabouttheproceedings,althoughwenotedhis

agitationwhentheteeinggreenwasplacedinthecenteroftheopenarea.Apieceofplywoodcoveredwithartificialturf,itwouldmakeagoodplaceforGraysontoworkonhisswing.Flashsniffedthesurfaceandnibbledatthecornerwithhisteeth.

“Flash,that’snotrealgrass,yousilly.”Wechuckledathimandthenbecameslightlypuzzledwhenhisfronthoofcamedownonitwithathud.Heblewhardthroughhisnostrilsandstampedonceagain.

“Hey,buddy,”Tomsoothedhim.HemovedclosetoFlashandranhishandalonghisback,thenleaned

onhisshoulderstogethimtostepback.Tomlookedhimintheeye.“You’renottellingmeyou’reobjectingtothegolfstuffinhere,areyou?”

Flashshookhisearsasiftoshowhisindifferenceandthenturnedonhisheelandmoseyedout.Iguesshewasjusthavingsomefunwithus.

Anxioustotryouthisnewpracticearea,Graysonawokeearlythenextmorningtogetafewswingsinbeforeschool.Howhandytohaveeverythingallsetup!Hehurriedouttothebarn.

Minuteslaterhewasback,astrangelookonhisface.“Mom,thebarnhasbeenvandalized!Youneedtocomeandseethis.”

Ifollowedhimoutsideandstoppedinmytracksatthesight.

Theturf-coveredplywoodteehadbeendestroyed.Itwasdraggedofftotheside,dentedandcoveredwithdirt.Initsplace,someonehadclearedthelayersofloosedirtandwoodshavings,exposingthehardground.Thenettinghadbeentornononesideand

washanginglimplyfromtheupperbeam.Anoverturnedchairlayinthecorner.Itlookedasifatornadohadblownthrough.

Butthecoupdegrâcewasrightinfrontofus.Itwasapileofdonkeypoop,smackinthemiddleofthedirtfloor.

Acallingcard,ifyouwill.Thiswastheworkofone

angrydonkey.

Itsuddenlycametome.Ohmy.JustliketheChristmasboxes.Howcouldwehaveforgotten?Afewyearsearlier,aftertheholidays,Ihadpackedupthedecorationsandputtheboxesinthebarn’sopenareafortemporarystorage.Flashhadwaiteduntilhethoughtnoonewaslookingbeforeattackingtheboxes.Weheard

thesoundofcardboardbreakingandthetinklingofornamentsbeingsmashedbeforewerealizedwhatwashappening.Good-bye,1989HallmarkSnoopyornamentanduntoldnumberoflights.

AndthentherewastheWorkbenchFiasco.Howquicklyithadbeenerasedfromourmemories.Butnowthatyoumentionit,who

couldforgetthemayhemthatensuedwhenaworktablewasintroducedtothestallareabeforethebarnrenovationtookplace?Thestallwasunused.Flash’snamewasnotoverthedoor.Nobodyhadclaimtoit.Itwasaperfectlylogicalplacetosetupshopforthevariousprojectswehadgoingon.

Thatis,logicaltoeveryoneexceptacertainlong-eared,opinionatedmemberoftheequinefamily,whoshallgounnamed.Thetablewasattheperfectheightforalarge,fuzzymuzzletosniffandinspecteverything.Oneeasyswipeofthenose,anditcouldallbeoverturnedandknockedtotheground.Thetools,thewood,the

papers,themeasuringtape,theworkgloves.Inandout,asmoothoperationbyanexperiencedvandal.

AndhowisitthatwedidnotconsidertheNewFenceSituation?Tomtriedrepeatedlytorunanewfencearoundasmallsectionofthepastureinwhichhehadcreatedahockeytrainingareafortheteamshecoached.He

madestationsoutofsyntheticicethathadbeendonatedtohimsotheplayerscouldpracticeshootingpucksinwhatiscalled“drylandtraining.”Hedidnotneedasix-hundred-pounddonkeywalkingacrossthesyntheticiceorpoopingininconvenientlocations.Ormovingthesyntheticicesheetsornibblingatthe

targets.ButsomehowFlashmanagedtosneakthroughthebarricadesandmagicallyappearoutofnowhereinthecordoned-offarea.He’dnonchalantlygraze,asifnothingwereoutoftheordinary.Ifhecouldn’tstopthechangefromhappening,atleasthecouldpretenditdidn’taffecthim.

ThentherewastheUtilityTrailerIncident,whichwewon’tgointohere,excepttoquietlymentionthatFlashdidn’tappreciatehavingitparkednearhisfavoriterollspotinthepasture.Andalsothathe“unloaded”(which,inthisinstance,means“forciblyremovedbymeansofchompinginto,dragging,and

dumpingout”)thecontentsofthetrailertogettothebagoffeedatthebottom.

It’ssafetosaythatFlashwelcomeschange,justaslongasnothingisdifferentoralteredinanyway.

“Toomuchchangeforoneday.”Handsinpockets,Tomassessedthegolfcarnageanddeliveredhispronouncement.“Weshould

havedonethisgradually.”Hepulledthetatteredteeplatformfrombeneaththedirttomenditandstapledthenetbackinplace.Ishoveledthe“callingcard.”Wewouldtryagain.

Nextday,samething.Teekickedandburiedunderdirt,nettorndown,rollspotcleared,chairoverturned,pooppilefrontandcenter.At

leastFlashwasconsistent.And,apparently,regular.Oddly,healwayslookedjustassurprisedaseveryoneelseeachmorningwhenwecameintoinspectthedamage.

“Don’tlookatme,”heshruggedwithaphhhht,hislipsvibratinglikeamotorboat.Asiftherecouldbeanyoneelse.Therewasno

remorse.Onlyaslighttwitchofhislargeearsthatbeliedhissmugclaimofinnocence.

Wecontinuedinthispatternonandofffordaysuntilthedestructiongraduallyceased.Flashneverreallylikedthegolfequipmentinthere,butafterawhilehewascontentwithmerelykickingdirtovertheteeandwalkingoveritwheneverhefeltlikeit

toshowhisdisdainforthechanges.Hewantedeverythingtostayexactlyasithadbeen,withhimselfincontrolofhislittleworld.

AndIcouldn’tblamehim.Ifeltthesameway.

Becausethingswereshiftinginmylittleworldoutsidethebarn.Somehow,Graysongrewtallerthanme,andIwasn’tsurewhenthat

hadhappened,exactly.Hisfeethungofftheendofhisbedatnight,andwhenItuckedhimin,Inoticedhowhisframenowfilledthefull-sizemattress.Hewouldbeheadingofftocollegesoon,andtherewereapplicationstofillout,teststotake,andlotsofnewthingstoexperience.Iwasexcitedforhimbutsuddenlyfeltuncertainabout

whoI’dbewithoutchildrenundermycare.Mychestwasheavyandlightatthesametime.

LaurenandRobertwerehopingtostartafamilysoon,andmyheadnearlyexplodedatthethought.ItwasjustafewyearsagothatIhadgrievedoverthelossofCollinanddesperatelywantedtofillthevacancyin

myheartwithanewbaby,andnow...nowmyoldestchildwasthinkingofhavingbabiesofherown.

Meghan,grownandmarried,wasteachingelementarymusic.Suchhappy,wonderfulchanges,butifI’dhadaboxtostomponorachairtooverturn,Imighthavedoneit.

Ashaftofsunlightonafurrowedbrow.Fingersclenchedinsleeves,refusingtounfurl.

Ane-maillandedinmyin-box.Itwasfromacompletestranger,askingifIwouldbe

interestedinspeakingatherchurch’swomen’sretreatinIllinois.

“I’vebeenreadingyourblog,andyourwordshavetouchedme.Iwonderifyoumightcomeandsharewithmyladiesthisfall,”shewrote.IrereaditseveraltimestomakesureIunderstoodtherequest.

BecauseIwantedtobecertainthattheterrorIfeltwaswellgrounded.

Runwithhorses,Rachel.Runwithhorses.Orjustrun.

So,ofcourse,Iimmediatelyputthee-mailaside.Iformulatedmygraciousdecline.“Thankyouforyourlovelyinvitation,butIamcurrentlyparalyzedfrom

theeyesdown,andI’malsobusythatweekend,andeveryotherweekend,withathing.”

Icouldneverstandupandspeaktoagroupofwomen.Rememberthedroolingandtheblackingoutinthebusinessmeeting?I’mstillnotoverit.Plus,Ihavenothingtosay.Bloggingisonething,namelybaringyoursoultotheworldfrombehind

acomputerscreen.I’dbeenwritingonlineforyears,somethingI’dcometoloveasacreativeoutletandasawaytohelpothersfindasenseofsanctuaryintheirbusylives.Ihadnoproblemwiththat.Speakingisanotherthing,namelysharingyourexpertisewithpeoplewhoareactuallypresentintheroom,staring

backatyouandtakingnotes.I’mprettymuchterrifiedofthat.

Thefamiliarvoicesbeganwhispering:You’reafailure.Afraud.Youdon’thaveanythingtoshareoutloud.You’retoounworthy.You’renotgoodenough.

Rememberyourname.Rememberwhoseyouare.Wait.What’syourname

again?“Iwouldliketotalkmore

withyouaboutyourevent,”Itypedback.Notexactlyano,butalsonotayes.Anoncommittalreplymightbuymesometime.Perhapstheladywouldgoaway.

“WhenmayIcallyou?”cametheresponse.Shewasn’tgoingaway.

“Tuesdayat10:00a.m.wouldworkgreat!”WhyIwasusinganexclamationpointwasbeyondme.WhatIreallywantedtodowasrunandhide.

FindyourrefugeinMe.YoucanhideintheshelterofMywings.

Aswebeganhavingphoneconversationsabouttheevent,Ifoundmyself

turningtothepagesofmyjournalsandblogpostsandsortingthroughold,scribblednotes.Evenasthegroundbeneathmyfeetfeltshaky,Istartedtoseesomemessageswithinthescribbles.Aphrasehere,aScripturethere,adonkeystoryinamarginofanotebook.

Sayyes,Rachel.Don’tletfearkeepyoufrommovingforward.Keepputtingonefootinfrontoftheother.Blazeanewtrail.

Adatewassetandairlineticketspurchased.Icommittedtoit,andtherecouldbenoturningback.Buttherewasstillregularworktobedone.Ladderstohaul,sketchestodraw,projectsto

complete,billstopay,dinnerstomake.Thecloudsabovewerestillheavy,butIknewI’dfeltarayofwarmthonmyfacethatmademethinkanewseasonmightbeahead.OrdidIimagineit?

Theretreatwentwell,Ithought.Ihadpreparedlikecrazyformyspeakingsessionsandobsessedovermyhair.Obviously,the

timingofroottouch-upsiscrucial.Youcannotaffordtounderplanthis.Andbecausemyhairlookedsogood,IhopeditmadeupforwhatIlackedinsmoothsentencetransitions.Ireturnedhomewithapocketfullofsweetthank-younotesandalittletasteofconfidence.Wow!

Andtherewerebiggeropportunities.Somemonthslater,IfoundmyselfsittingacrossthetablefromatoptalentmanagerinNashville.I’dbeeninvitedtheretodiscussrepresentationandtoexploretheprospectsofstartingaspeakingtour,marketingmyart,andwritingabook.Me.Seriously?Myheadspunwithideasand

possibilities!Whatanincredibleturnofevents.

Butthistime,Itotallybotchedit.Ididn’treturnphonecalls,missedadeadline,andavoidedmakingthecommitment.Inshort,Ichoked.“Thiswon’tworkifIwantitforyoumorethanyouwantitforyou,”thetalentmanagertoldme.AndIknewshewasright.

It’sfunnyhowyouyearnforchange,forsomethingnew,foraluckychance,foranendtothemonotony,forlifeasyouknowittojuststop,tojustgoaway...andthenwhenthatchangecomes,youstartbackpedalingandpullingouteveryreasonyouwantthingstostaythesame.Youthinkofallthewaysyou’renotready.Youthink

ofallthethingsyou’llmiss.Youevendothingstosabotagemovingforward.

Irememberasakidsittinginthe“wayback”seatofthefamilystationwagon,acarthatwasroughlythelengthofanoceanliner,withfauxwoodpanelingonthesides.Welovedthefactthat

ithadautomaticwindowsandwastheperfectshadeofavocadogreen.

The“wayback”seatwastheonethatgotpulledupfromthestorageareaintherearandfacedbackward.IcanstillfeelthesensationofbarrelingtowardadestinationIcouldnotseewhilewatchingthroughthebackwindowastheroadfellaway

behindus.Thedashedlanemarkersseemedtoemergefromsomewherebelow,allhugeandoversized,thenquicklygetsmallerandsmalleruntiltheydisappearedastinydotsintonothingness.Itfeltliketimetravel,butwithmotionsickness.Everyoneknowsit’saterribleideatorideinavehicle

backward.Don’teventhinkaboutreadingabook,unlessyouhaveabarfbaghandy.

Butmovingtowardadestinationyoucan’tsee?Watchingthepast,whereyou’vebeen,fallaway?Evenasnewseasonsofopportunitiesandpersonalgrowthwerearoundthebend,IwantedtoholdontoeverythingIhad,everything

I’dknown.Thislife—thisbeautiful,messylife—waschangingonceagain,andtherewassomuchIhadn’tdoneinthisseasonyet.

Grayson’slastyearsathomefeltbittersweet.Whenwe’dmovedtothisfunkybarnhouse,hewaseight.Eight!Akidwithanorthodonticapplianceandapenchantforbuildingmodel

airplanes.LaurenandMeghanwereinhighschoolandfixatedontheirhair(Idon’tknowwheretheygotthat),choir,youthgroup,andadizzyingscheduleofactivities.Flasharrivedjustastheywereleaving,andIcametobelievehewasalittlegiftfromabovetooccupymymindandassuagethemama-ache.

Nowthegirlshadmadeitallthewaythroughcollegeandintonewmarriages,andGraysonwasheadingofftostudyaerospaceengineering...andIcouldn’tbemoreproud.Ormorebrokenhearted.

HowmanytimeshadIwishedIcouldwalkdownthedriveway,awayfrommotherhoodandwork

projectsandallthelaundry?HowmanytensediscussionshadTomandIhadoverhouseholdrules,chores,activities,haircuts,andhomeworkthatmademewanttorunaway?HowoftenhadIcomplainedabouttheExplorerandtheworkloadandtheburdenofshaping

younglives,whichalwaysfeltmorelikeherdingcatsthanactualshaping?

Now,motherhoodwasfallingawaybehindme,andIwashurtlingtowardadestinationIcouldn’tsee.Agreatunknown.Iwasn’tpreparedforparenthoodtodisappearasatinydotintonothingness.Ihadn’tevenstartedtheirscrapbooksyet!

AndIhadforgottentoshowGraysonhowtofoldfittedsheets.MyearlierconfidencethatIwouldaccomplishthesethingsbeforethekidsleftnowmademefeelawfullypresumptuous.

Andtotopitalloff,thehorsesnextdoordisappeared.Flash’sbabymama,hisdarlinglittlemule,andtherestofthegroupjustupand

movedoffwiththeirownersomewhere.No!Ileanedonthegate,stillwiredshutfromthenightFlashhadbrokenthehinge,andscannedthefieldforanytraceofthem.Nothing.Itfeltstrangeandempty,likeonemorethinghadslippedthroughmygrasp.

Thegateprotestedmyweightwithasqueak,asiftellingmetomoveon.ButonelookatFlash’sexpressiontoldmethatmovingonwouldn’tbesoeasy.They’dbeensuchidealcompanionsforhim,hangingtheirheadsoverthefenceandshootingthebreezewithhimeachday.NowwhowouldFlashhave?Certainlynot

Beau,theobjectofhisunaffection.Somethingwouldhavetobedone,butIdidn'twanttoconsiderthatnow.

Apuffofwind,changeintheair.Aphonecalltocomeandspeak.Aninvitationtowriteforahigh-profileblog.Abotchedchanceatstardom.Anopportunityforourbusinesstochange.Kids

drivingoffwithatrunkfullofbelongings.Amonthinwhichprojectstookplaceinfrontofacomputerscreeninsteadofonaladderwithapaintbrushinhand.

Stilljuggling,stillkeepingasmanyballsintheairasyoucan,becauseyouneverknowwhenyou’llneedoneofthem.Youthinkyouhaveanideahoweverything

isgoingtoturnout,andinamomentofclarityfindoutyou’reridingbackwardandsomeoneelseisdrivingthestationwagon.Youfightforcontrol.Stompabox.Leaveacallingcard.

Andintheend,youletgo.

Suddenly,allthelessonsIhadlearnedfromFlashcamefloodingin.Refuge,

rememberingyourname,runningwithhorses,wearingyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve,findingyourpassion,servingothers....

Allalong,Godhadbeenquietlyteachingmethroughacharming,bucktoothed,opinionated,sweetdonkey.AndnowHewasguidingme—us—throughmorechanges.WouldIkeepkickingand

resistanythingalteredordifferent,orwouldIlearntoapplythelessonsandadjustmyoldwaysofthinking?WouldIopenmyarmstonewexperiences,orbesofocusedonthepresentandthepastthatI’dmissthem?

Mylittlenotes,onscrapsofpaperhereandthere,werebeingchallengedtocometolife...tobecomereal.To

takeonskinandbones,andbreatheinair,andbecomemorethancuteaxiomstapedtomydesk.IfGodwasrealandtrue,anddeeplyinvolvedwiththedetailsofmylife,thenallofthiswasforsomething.Nothingwouldbewasted.

ButonlyifIchosetoembraceanewseason.

Flashfiguredoutthatthrowingatempertantrumanddestroyingthethingshecouldnotchangewerefutileattemptstocontrolhislittleworld.Onceherealizedthattherewasnothingtofear,andthatgoodthingscouldcomefromthechangesheresisted,hesettleddown.Helearnedthatthechanges,likethegolfandhockeyareasandthe

workshop,broughtpeopleintohisworld.Andmorepeopleequaledmoreattention.Moreattentionequaledahappydonkey.Hejustcouldn’tseeitatthetime.Oddly,gettinghisearsscratchedmoreoftenhelpedhimcomearoundtothisdeepspiritualtruth:Changeisagoodthing.

Muchofthetime,thechangeswefacefeellikelittlemorethannearlyimperceptiblepuffsofwind.C.S.Lewisoncesaid,“Isn’titfunnyhowdaybydaynothingchanges,butwhenyoulookback,everythingisdifferent.”Theincrementalshifts,thetinytectonicmovements,thewayyourkid’sfacelosesthatbaby

softnessandbecomesleanandchiseled,withoutyourevennoticinguntilyouwatchhimsleeponenight.Thewayyougiveeverythingyouhavetolifeandthinkit’snothingmuchtooffer,butthereitis.Takeit.Andthewayitstartscomingbacktoyou.

Thepatternsontheinsidesofyoureyelidstellyouthesunhaspoked

throughtheclouds,forjustamoment,andthereischangeintheair.

Youmustunfurlyourfingerstocatchthefirstrays.

Embracechange.Don’tletfearoftheunknownkeepyoufrommovingforward.

“SorryaboutBeau.”GraysonshruggedapologeticallyandmotionedwithhisheadtothedrippingyellowLab.Islidtheglassdooropentogreettheminthebreezeway,andamuggyblastofsummerairpusheditswayinasIsteppedoutside.Beauplantedhisfeet,shakingpondwaterfromhisbodyinaviolentvibrationthatstartedathisnoseand

endedatthetipofhisthicktail.Hesneezedandlookedupatmewithanexpressionofsheerjoy.

“Ihadhimintheboatwithme,buthejumpedintothewatertocooloffandthenwentforaswim,”Grayexplained,settinghistackleboxdownanduntyinghismuddyshoes.“Youknowhowheis.”

“Ohbrother.Beau,you’regoingtosmellfortwodays.”Ichidedthedog,buthedidn’tseemtheleastbitconcernedwithmyscolding.Helumberedtohiswaterdishandlappedatitnoisilybeforefloppingdownonthecoolcementfloor.Hesoundedlikeaspongehittingpavement,thewatersplatteringoutwardfromhissaturatedfurcoat.

He’sgoingtobestifffordays,too,Ithought.DearoldBeau.Butmaybetheswimwasgoodforhisarthritis.Iwashappythathehadenjoyedsomephysicalactivity—somethinghe’dalwayslovedasayoungerdog.

Foryears,Beau’spowerfulphysiquemadehimtheperfectcountry

companion:HeregularlyracedtheExplorerupthedriveway,clockinganeasytwentymilesperhouronthequarter-mileruntothehouse.Helopedalongbytherightfronttire,pinktongueflappingfromthesideofhismouth,untilthesoundofthegasbeingappliedcausedhimtoengagehisafterburners.Headtuckedandtongue

retracted,hismightyfrontpawspulledtheearthbeneathhim,andhismuscularhindlegspropelledhimforwardinagoldenblur.Theracealwaysendedinatie,Beaubrakingtowaghisentirebodyinexcitedwelcome.

Thedogcouldkeepfetchingstickstossedintothepondlongafteryourarmcouldpossiblycontinue

throwing.He’dleapintothewaterwithagiantka-ploosh,swimouttothestick,pickitupwithhisteeth,andcirclebackaroundtowardshore.Sometimeshe’djustpaddlearoundthepondwiththestick,asifhewassohappytobefetchingthathedidn’tknowwhattodowithhimselfexcepttakeacoupleofextralaps.Ifyoudepletedyour

supplyofsticks(orifyourarmgaveout,whichevercamefirst),he’dgrabagiantlogfloatinginthewaterandbringittoyou.Hisloveofwateralsomadehimanaturalhuntingdog.Hecouldsitmotionlessinaduckblindforhours,thenswimthroughicywatertoretrievefallenbirds.

Beautookituponhimselftoguardtheentirepropertywithhisdailycircuitsalongthefencelines,hisnoseandtailworkingfromsidetoside,andmakinguseofhisbottomlessbladderbymarkinghisterritorywithboundlessenthusiasm.Hechasedoffwanderingdogsandcoyotes,scaredupbirds,andsentbunniesscurrying

intotheirholes;butthenhewouldcomebackandgraciouslyallowthegirls’kittenstopouncealloverhimandplaywithhistail.

Beau,onehundredpoundsoffriendly,coveredinnearlywhite,sheddingfur,hadoncebeenan“outsideonly”dog,andIlikeditthatway.Butsomehow,hehadfinagledhiswayindoors

duringthecoldestnightsofwinterandthehottestdaysofsummer...andgradually,everythinginbetween.Hiswetblacknoseandpleadingbrowneyesweredifficulttoresist,andsincehewasgoodaboutstayingoffthecarpetedareasofthehouse,weallowedhimin.

Well,Itakethatback.Hewasn’tthatgoodaboutstayingoffthecarpetedareas.Hewasverygoodaboutstayingdownstairs—onthecarpet,ofcourse.AndhewasonlygoodaboutthedownstairspartuntiloneOctobernight,aboutayearafterwe’dmovedin.

“Tommy,wakeup!”IshookTomawakeatthesoundofapeculiarnoisecomingfromtheotherroom.Something,orsomeone,wasmovingaroundGrayson’sbedroominthemiddleofthenight.MyhandsclutchedTom’sarm.Anintruder?Aburglar?

Weheldourbreathandlistenedamomentlonger,ourheartbeatspoundinginour

ears.Tomslowlyslidoutofbedandcrepttothedoor.HesteppedthroughthesmallhallwayatthetopofthestairsandpausedatGrayson’sdoortopeerinside.Iheardhimletouthisbreath.

“Rachel,it’sokay,”hewhispered.“Comeinhere.”Iflippedthecoversbacktofollowhim.

ThemoonlightfilteredthroughGrayson’swindowblinds,revealingthesilhouetteofourintruder,whowasstandingnexttothebedofourthennine-year-oldson.ItwasBeau.WithhisnosejustinchesfromGrayson’sface,hewatchedtheboybreathe,hischestrisingandfalling.In.Out.In.Out.Thetipofthedog’stail

movedslightly,lettingusknowthathewasawareofourpresence,buthisresoluteprofiledidn’twaveraninch.

“What’sgoingon,Beau?”He’dneverchallengedourdownstairs-onlyrulebefore.Tompattedthedog’sheadandreachedforwardtostraightenGrayson’spillow.Heturnedtomeinalarm.

“Gray’sburningup,”Tomsaid,feelinghisforeheadandpullingofftheblankets.Irantogetcoolwashclothsandmedicinetobringhisfeverdown.

Thenextmorning,atriptothedoctor’sofficeandX-raysatthehospitalrevealedpneumoniainGrayson’slungs.We’dknownthatGraysondidn’tfeelwell

whenweputhimtobedthatnight,butwehadnoideahowserioushisillnesswas.Yetsomehow,Beausensedit.Forthenextthreenights,thedogremainedathisbedsideuntiltheantibioticsbegantoworkandtheworstwasover.Hisbuddyneededhim.

IguesswefiguredBeauhadearnedtherighttogoupstairsandsleepwherever

hewanted.Mostly,hechosetocurluponthesmallhookedrugnexttoGrayson’sbed,rightwheretheboy’shandcouldreachdownandscratchhisblockyhead,causingthedog’sheavytailtothumpontheflooratoddhoursofthenight.

IlookedatBeaunow,soggyandhappyfromhisafternoonswim.“Walkwithmetothebarn,”Icalledtohim.“Itwillhelpyoudryoffandkeepyoufromstiffeningup.”Hepulledhimselfup,hishindlegsreluctant,andgaveanothervigorousshakebeforeaccompanyingmetothegate.

Liftingtheheavychainfromthenail,Ipushedthemetalgateopenandsteppedintothepasture.Thegroundwashardanddryundermyfeet,andthesparsesummergrassclungtothecrackedearthfordearlife.Beaustoppedatthefencepostandsatdown,refusingtogoanyfarther.HewasatTheLine.

TheLinehadbeendrawnfromdayoneofFlash’sresidency,anditfollowedthefenceexactly.Thepie-shapedpastureononesideofthefencewasFlash’sterritory,withtheremaininglandontheothersidebelongingtoBeau.Madeofwoodpostsconnectedbygalvanizedwiremesh,thefenceprovidedthe

legalframeworkforthetwoanimalstoworkwithin.Beauwasrespectinghislimits.

“Youstayonyourside,andI’llstayonmine”werethegeneraltermsofagreementthetwoabidedby.Buttherewereexceptions,suchastheselaidoutbyFlash:

1.Dogmayenterpasture

1.Dogmayenterpasturewhenaccompaniedbyahuman.

2.Dogmaynotdrinkfromdonkey’swaterbucket.

3.Dogmaysitinbarn,butonlyifaccompaniedbyhumans.

4.Dogmaynotbark,whine,orlookappealingwhiledonkeycompleteshis

interactionwithsaidhumans.

5.Dogisnotpermittedtomakeeyecontactwithdonkey.

Beau,forhispart,hadhisownstipulations:

1.Donkeymaynotbrayindog’spresence.

2.Donkeymustbeona

2.Donkeymustbeonaleadatalltimeswhenoutsidepastureterritory.

3.Donkeymaynotkickorbite,butmaysniffandstandquietlyindog’spresence.

4.Donkeymaygrazeintheyard,understrictsupervisionbyhumans,andonlywhentiedtoastake.

5.Donkeymaymakeeyecontactwithdog,onalimitedbasis.

6.Donkeymaynoteatdogfood.(Tomyknowledge,thiswasneveranactualissue,butBeaufeltstronglyabouthisfood,so...youknow.)

“Oh,comeon,boy.”IreasonedwithhimatTheLine.“I’llberightwithyouthewholetime.It’sokay.”Atmyreassurance,Beauresumedhiswalktothebarnandsniffedoutaperfectspottositandwatchtheeveningproceedings.Tomwasalreadythere,cleaningoutFlash’sstallandputtingaflakeoffreshhayinthe

feedingrack.“Sowhat’sthedealwith

thesetwo,anyway?”Tomaskedashesetanewbagofwoodshavingsontheground.IpickeduparakethatleanedagainsttheplywoodwallandwatchedasFlashsaunteredintocheckoutouractivity.

“Idon’tknow.Idon’tgetit,”Isaid,settingtherakeasideandrubbingFlash’s

forehead.Clumpsofdirtandblades

ofdriedgrassclungtohiscoatfromhislastdustroll,givinghimarugged,tousledappearance.Asmuchashelikesbeingbrushedandfussedover,Imustsayhewearstheroughoutdoorsmanlookbest.

Withanodofhishead,thedonkeydismissedBeaufromhisvantagepointinthecornerandthenpositionedhimselfdirectlyinfrontofme.TheyellowLab,hisheadlowandeyesavertedaccordingtocode,madeawidecirclepastFlashandtookaseatundertheshadeofamesquitetreejustbeyondthebarn.Hegavearesigned

yawnandloweredhimselftotheground,settlinghisheadonhisfrontlegs.Satisfiedthatthedogwasoutofrange,Flashswishedhistailandinquiredaboutatreat.

Ipulledafewburrsfromhismaneandthensteppedtowardthetackroomtograbasmallcookiefromajarjustinsidethedoor.Animalcrackers—Flash’sfavorite.

Heeagerlypokedhisheadin,blockingmyexitashismouthmovedinanticipation.

“Backup,Flash,”Isaid.“Youneedtobeagentleman.”Iwaiteduntilhesteppedbackward,thenopenedmypalmwiththetreatinside.Itwasgoneinaninstant,Flash’sdefttoplippickingupthecookieinaswiftmovement.Hewas

alreadylookingformorebeforeheevenswallowedit.Iacquiescedwithasecondcookie.Okay,athirdonetoo.Butthat’sall.Imeanit.Really,Ido.Nomore,Flash.

“Ithinktheygotofftoarockystartandneverreallyrecovered,”Isaid,turningtoTom,whowasnowdumpingtheshavingsintothestall.

“BeauisstillbentoutofshapeoverFlashtryingtokickhimthatfirstday.”

“That’salongtimetoholdagrudge,”Tomrepliedthoughtfully.“Ifindithardtobelievetheyaren’tthebestoffriendsbynow.Imean,there’sabsolutelynoreasontheycan’tgetalong.They’rebothfriendly,loyal,sweet,

andlovable.”Hecountedtheirattributesoffwithhisfingers.

“Right,”Ilaughed,“justnottoeachother!”Ilookedatthedog,nearlydryinthelateafternoonheat.“IwonderifBeaufeelsresentfulaboutFlashtakingoverthepasture.Ithinkhewisheshehadthisareabackinhiscontrol.”

“Well,Beaudoestakehisguarddutiesveryseriously.Rememberhowheusedtowalktheperimeteroftheentirepropertyeachday?Heneverincludesthepastureanymore.HeleavesthatpartuptoFlashtotakecareof.MaybehefeelsFlashisn’tdoingagoodenoughjob.”

“You’dthinkhe’dbegratefultothedonkeyfortakingitoffhishands,er...paws...whatever.WithBeau’shipsbotheringhimthesedays,hecanbarelygetallthewayaroundhisownarea,letalonethepasture.It’stakinghimlongerandlongertocompletehisrounds,poorguy.”

Ipulledtherakeacrossthecleanstallmaterialtoevenitout.Thereisn’tabettersmellthanwoodchipsandhay,mingledwithmanure,cedar,andsweetfeed.

“Flashhasn’thelpedthesituation,though,”Tomsaidwryly.Hecrumpledthebagofwoodshavingsandmovedovertothedonkey.“Mostof

thetime,hetreatsBeaulikehebarelyexists.Imean,he’shappytoletthedoghangoutatadistance,andhedoesn’tseemtocarethatwepayattentiontohim.Butyouneverreallyseehimactfriendlywithhim,either.There’sdefinitelyawallthere.”

“It’slikethey’reindifferenttowardeachother,”Iconcluded.“Ithinktheydecidedearlyonthattheywouldcoexistandcooperate,likehowtheytag-teamourwalks,yetnotbecomeemotionallyinvolvedwitheachother.”

Tomcockedaneyebrow.“Emotionallyinvolved?Right,Dr.Phil.Idon’tknow

how‘emotionallyinvolved’adonkeycanbe.”JustthenFlashrubbedhisearsonTom’sarmandgavehimasoulfullook.TomwrappedFlash’sneckinahug,hischeekrestingontheknobofhishead.

“Uh-huh.Well,he’scertainlyemotionallyinvolvedwithyou,”I

observed.“Lookathim.Helovesyou!”

“What,this?Nah,thisisjustusmessingaround.”HegaveFlashaplayfulpushtoproveit.Flashreturnedtheaffectionbyleaningbackintohim,knockingTomoffbalanceandgarneringasnickeroutofme.IcouldhaveswornFlashsmiled.

Fromhisisolationspot,Beauwhinedinjealousy.Helovednothingbetterthanabitofroughhousing,andithurthisfeelingsnottobeinvitedtoplay.

“Whatashame.Beauissuchagreatdog,andFlashisaperfectdonkey.Thinkofallthey’remissing!Doyouthinkthereisanyhopeforfriendshipbetweenthem?”

Beaustruggledtohisfeet,andIcouldseehewasalreadystifffromoverdoingitinthepond.Hisrightbacklegdidn’twanttocooperatewithhisforwardmotion,anditsortofhungsuspendedforthefirstfewstepsbacktothehouse.Althoughhe’dneveradmitit,roughhousingwouldhavebeenoutofthequestionanyway.

Thatnight,BeaumadeitonlyhalfwayupthestepstoGrayson’sroom.Thelandingwouldhavetodofornow,andheloweredhimselfdownwithagroan.Backendcollapsing,frontendfollowingsuit.Blacknoseongiantpaws.Thefaintaromaofeaudepond.

IwishnowthatLastTimeswouldcomewithbigsignsthatsay,“ThisistheLastTime.”Thenyouwouldknowthatyoushouldsavorthem,nomatterhowinconsequentialtheyare.Likethelasttimeyouputsugarinyourteabeforeyousworeoffsweets,orthelasttimeyouusedapushmower,orthelasttimeyoutuckedextra

underwearinyourkid’sbackpack,justincase.Youmighthavestoppedtojustfeelthemoment,breatheitin,andletitgetfixedinyourmemorylikeaPolaroidphotograph.

Thelasttimeyourockedyourbabytosleep.ThelasttimeyousteppedonaLegopieceinthemiddleofthenight.Thelasttimeyou

tastedyourgrandmother’srhubarbpie.Thelasttimeyoukissedyourfathergoodnight.Ifyouhadknownitwasthelasttime,youwouldhaveclosedyoureyesandsaidtoyourself,Imustrememberthis.Imustrememberthesmellofthiskitchenandthiscoffeeandthispie.Imustrememberthisscratchyflannelshirtandthissmellof

OldSpice.Imustrememberthefeelofthisdownyheadonmyshoulder,andthismilkybreathandthesetinyfingerscurledaroundablankie.

You’dsay,Imustrememberthisdog,andhowhesleptonahookedrugnexttoaboy’sbed.

Instead,yourushon.Youthinktherewillbeahundredothertimes,exactlylikethis

one,andyoulookatyourwatchormuttersomeannoyanceoranswerthephoneorbecomedistractedinsomeway.Youdon’tfixitinyourmind,youdon’tstop,andyoudon’tfeelit.Becausewhyshouldyouwhentherewillbeotherchances,andlifeissobusy,andtherearesomanythingstodo?You’llsavoritnexttime,ormaybe

thetimeafterthatone.Youdidn’trealizeatthemomentthatthis—thiswouldbethelasttime.Itwouldn’tbecomingaroundagain.Andyoumissedit.

Imissedit.

That’showIfeltaboutthelasttimeBeaucurledupnexttoGrayson’sbed.Ithadcomeandgonewithoutmeevenrealizingit.Graywasalmostgrown-up,anditseemedlikethelamponhisnightstandwasalwaysonmuchlaterthanmineasheworkedoncalculusequationsandphysicsproblemsforthenextday’shomeworkassignment.

“Whattimedoyouneedtogetupinthemorning?”I’dask,alreadythinkingabouttomorrow’stasksasIkissedhisheadandpickedupsocksfromthefloor.

WhenthelandingonthestairsbecamethenewplaceBeaulikedtosleep,Ifigureditwasbecausehereceivedapatontheheadfromeverypersonwhopassedby.I

didn’treallystoptothinkthathe’dnevermakeittothesecondflooragainandintotheboy’sroomforanothernight.Orthatsoon,he’donlymakeittotherugbythefireplacebecauseclimbingtothelandinghalfwayupthestairswouldbetoomuchworkforthosearthritis-riddenlegs.

WhenthedaycamewhereBeauwentoutsideandsurveyedthepropertyfromtheedgeoftheyardinsteadofwalkingthefencelineandmarkinghiswholeterritory,Ineverreallyimaginedhehadpermanentlyretiredfromhissentinelduties.Lately,hesimplywatchedtheExplorermakeitswayupthedriveway,choosingtogreet

usatthedoorratherthanmeetusontheroadandraceushome.IguessImissedthelastrun,too.

“Hey,OldGuy,”wecalledhim.Beauwashardofhearingandnotabletoseewell,buthistailstillworkedbeautifully—thump,thump,thump.Sensingasimpleturnoftheheadinhisdirection,he’dstartthumpinghistailin

anticipationofattention.Bynow,wewereregularlyhosinghimoffoutside.Thesmellwasexactlywhatyou’dexpectfromanincontinentdog—andthat’swhenalltheLastTimesbegantodawnonus.

“Hey,OldGuy,let’sgogetthemail,”Isaid,lookingforareasontogethimupfromhisbedinthekitchen.

“Itwillbegoodforyoutogetalittleexercise.”Ittookawhiletoconvincehimtoleavehissoftcushion,buthemanagedtomakehiswaytothedoorandoverthethreshold.ImmediatelyIcouldseethatahalf-mileround-tripwalktothemailboxwouldbetoomuch.

“Onsecondthought,let’sjustcheckonFlash’swaterinstead.”Weswitchedcourseandturnedtowardthegate.Flashwasathissaltblock,whichsitsintheshadeofthecedartreesthatlinethefence.Histonguemethodicallyworkedoverthered-coloredbrickofminerals,hiseyeshalf-closedashelicked.Atthesoundofourfeet,he

lookedupandimmediatelymadehiswaytowardus.HemetBeauandmeatthefencepost,wherethedogtuckedhistailandsatsidewaysonhisbestleg.

Thepassageoftimeseemedtobesofteningthedonkey’sattitudeaswellashisrules.AsIpausedtoliftthechain,heloweredhisoversizeheadtoBeau’slevel.

Flash’sbigbrowneyesrestedonthedog’ssofteyes,nowcloudywithage,andtheyheldeachother’sgazeforalongmoment.Thedonkey’snostrilsopenedwideashegentlysniffedatthedog,whobroughthisnoseuptothewhitemuzzlethatreachedacrossthedivide.FourhoovesononesideofTheLine,fourpawsontheother.

Twosetsofearsprickedforward.Twonoses,meetinginthemiddle.

“Well,howaboutthat?”Iwhispered.Wondersnevercease.Ieasedthegateopentostepinside,thennudgedFlashoversoIcouldopenitwideenoughforthedogtogothrough.Beauhesitated,thencrossedTheLineandturnedtothedonkey,tailslowly

wagging.Flashgavehimanamiablenod,earsturning,eyeswelcoming,andtogetherthethreeofusheadedtothewaterbucket—atthehaltingpaceofagimpyLab.Athawhadbegun.

ForasoftenasyouwishyoucouldknowwhensomethingistheLastTime,you’llfindawaytopretendthataRealLastTimeisn’t

one.Yearsearlier,whenI’dsaidgood-byetomygrandfather,whowasinawheelchairandsufferingfromAlzheimer’sdisease,IpretendedthatI’dbebacktothenursinghomerealsoon.Itisn’tthelasttime,Isaidtomyself.I’llbebackandwe’lltalkaboutbaseball,andhe’llshowmesomemoveshelearnedasacatcher,andwe

willplantomakelutefiskandlefse,hisfavoriteNorwegiandelights.

Whenwelockedthedoortoourhouseinthecityforthelasttime,weactedasifweweregoingonvacation.“Didweturnoffthewater?Checktoseethatthelightswereoff?Isthebackgateclosed?Now,let’sgohavesomefunonthebeach,orinthemountains.”

Wetriednottolookintherearviewmirroraswelefttheneighborhoodwhereourkidshadspenttheirearlychildhoodyears.“We’lltakelotsofpictureswhilewe’reaway,”wesaid,“andthenwe’llreturnandpickuprightwhereweleftoff.Everybodybuckledin?”

Wheneachofthekidsdroveofftocollege,downthedrivewayinacloudofdust,wetriedtopretendtheywerejustgoingtothestore,maybetogetsomemilkoraloafofbread.They’llberightback,wetoldourselves,swallowingthelumpsinourthroatsandfightingbacktears.Sillytocryoveratriptothestore.Justbusy

yourselfinthekitchenorsomething,andthey’llbebackinaminute.

Oh,whoarewekidding?Thisisthelasttime,and

thingswillneverbethesame.It’sthetruth.Ifumbleforatissueandblowmynose.Thetearsfall,andmybonesfeellikemush.Myheadhurts.Ihatefacingtherealitythatsomethingpreciousisgone.

Ididn’tthinkIwasthetypetogrieveoveradog.Afterall,Iwastheonewhocomplainedaboutallthedoghairandallthedirtthosepawsbroughtin.Thenoseprintsontheglassdoorannoyedme.Iwassotiredofcleaningupafterhim.Andthentherewerethebigblue

pads,linedwithplasticononeside,absorbentpaperontheother.Theleaky,elderlydogmadethewholehousesmell.ButIlovedthatdog,andIlovedhowhewaswovenintoourfamilyhistory.Ilovedthathewasalwaysthereforus.Noneofuscouldimaginelifewithouthim,andhereIwas,grievingalready.

Whentheinevitablefinallycame,TomdugagravefortheyellowLabandsetwhitestonesallaroundtomarkit.Ididn’twatchhimdigit,andIdidn’twanttoseethefreshmoundofearth.IwantedtopretendBeauwasdownatthepondforanafternoonswim,andthathe’dbehungryfordinnerandthatI’dgrouseabouthimsmelling

likepondwater.Buteventually,Imademywaytotheclearingunderthetreestopaymyrespectsandsaygood-bye.Grayson,Lauren,andMeghaneachdidthesame,ontheirowntimeandintheirownways.Tomcriedfordays,hetookitsohard.Mercy,Ilovethatman.

ThenitwasFlash’sturn.Wehalteredhimupandclippedontheleadinsilence.Hewalkedreadilyalongsideus,eagerforastrollintheworldbeyondhispasture.We’dbeenworkingonimprovinghisskillsonalead,andwewerepleasedwithhisprogress.HalfwaytoBeau’sgrave,hebecameengrossedinthegrassandtookadetour

intotheyard.Perhapshewantedtopretenditwasjustanotherpracticewalk,andnotalastgood-bye.Icouldn’tblamehim;Iknewjusthowhefelt.“Comeon,buddy.Let’skeepgoing,”Tomsaid,givingagentletugontheropebeforetheycontinuedontogether.Ifollowedquietlybehind,wantingtogiveFlashspacetotakeitin.

Flashapproachedthecircleofstoneswithsomereluctance,thenbroughthisheaddowntosmellthenewmound.Hisdeepexhaleblewtheloosesoil,andthetinyleavesthathadfallenthereflutteredupandsettledbackdown.Ididn’texpecthimtosaymuch,andtruetoform,hedidn’t.Heblinkedandturnedhisears,thenshifted

hisweightoffhisbackhoofandrestedit.Fromthelookofhisposture,wewouldbehereawhile.Asitshouldbe.Tomwipedhischeekwithhissleeveashesquatteddownnexttothedonkey’shead.Flashunderstood.

FlashandBeaudidn’thaveawholelotincommonexceptalovefortheirpeople—us.Maybethatwas

enough.Enoughtopushthempasttheirpettydifferencesandmakethemsetasidetheirpride.MaybetheysensedthatLastTimeswereuponthemanddecidedthey’dbeenfeudinglongenough.

IrememberedhowBeauhadaccompaniedFlashonguarddutyinthepasturethatlastsummer.Flashkepthispaceslowfortheonce-

powerfuldogwhoneededtoresteverysooftenbeforeproceedingon.Beaureveledinthemorningbreezesthatblewacrossthefield,histailwaggingandhisnosetakingineveryscent.Flashnibbledonthedrygrassashewaitedforhisfriendtomarkanewspotorfollowabunnytrail.“Takeyourtime,”hesaidwithhisears.Thedonkey

neverrushedhim.Beaurepaidhiskindnessbykeepinghimcompanyatfeedingtimeandbyhumoringtheoccasionalbraysthatoncedrovehimcrazy.Heremainednearbylikeanoldcompanion,graciouslyacceptingFlash’sopinionsandofferingafewofhisown.

Forgiveness—friendship—hadbeenlongincoming,butitarrivedjustintime.Astheyheldoneanother’sgaze,theireyessaiditall:

“I’msorryIkickedatyou.”

“I’msorryIoffendedyouwithmyexuberance.”

“Iwaswrongtokeepyouout.”

“Inevermeanttobotheryou.”

“I’msorryIdidn’tletyoudrinkfrommybucket.”

“I’msorryIdrankoutofitwhenyouweren’tlooking.Andlickedtheedge.”

Itseemslikeit’salwaysthesmallstuffthatkeepsusapart.Thetinyinfractionsthatbecomelargerthanlifeastheyfesterovertime.Lines

getdrawn.Sidesaretaken.Heelsdigin.“Youstayonyourside,andI’llstayonmine.”“Herearemyrules,anddon’tyoudarebreakthem.”“Thisismyterritory,andyou’dbetternotenter.”

HowoftendoIbehaveexactlyasthesetwoanimalshad—allowingmyselftobecomeoffendedoversomelittleevent...gettingangry

oversomethinginsignificant?Justthetipoftheiceberg,Isayinwardly.Don’tgiveaninch.It’stheprincipleofthething.

Andonprinciple,Irefusetoforgive.Iwithholdlove.Judgeanother.Drawthatline.

Whatashame.ThereatBeau’sgrave,I

lookedatFlash,withhislowerlipdroopingand

expressionsorrowful.Hishairwasstartingtothickenwiththeapproachingautumnseason,anditmadehisfacelookfuller,fatter.HewasluckythathisLastTimeswithBeauhadcomewithsigns.He’dbeenabletomakeamendsandenjoytheirremainingtimetogether.Inthatmoment,IlovedFlashmorethaneverfor

personifyingforgivenessandacceptanceandtenderness.AndIlovedhimformourningthepassingofhisfriend.Itwentstraighttomyheart.

Ephesians4:2saysthis:“Alwaysbehumbleandgentle.Bepatientwitheachother,makingallowanceforeachother’sfaultsbecauseofyourlove.”

Weareimperfectcreatures,allofus.Whatashametowasteourtimeontrivialdifferencesandself-maderulesratherthansavoringforgivenessandloveandenjoyingtherichnesstheybring.Weshouldtakesomeone’shand.Weshouldlookourlovedonesintheeyes.Weshouldholdagazeandsaythewords“I’msorry”

and“Iwaswrong”and“Iforgiveyou.”Weshould.Wemust.Andwemustalsosaythewords“Iloveyou”whilewestillcan.Thistimemaybethelastchancewe’lleverhave,butwewon’tknowituntilitisgone.

Don’tmissit.

Makethingsright

Makethingsrightwithothers.Don’tmissyourchancetoforgive,accept,andlove.

MISSINGDONKEY.Myheartpoundedwith

anxietyasItypedthewordsandformattedtheminthebiggest,boldestfontIcouldfitonapage.ThecoffeeI’dgulpeddownearlierthatdaychurnedinmystomachasIaddedmyphonenumberandprintedofftheflyerstostapletotelephonepoles.Ishouldhaveeatenapieceoftoast,

butthethoughtoffoodnowmademefeelsick,giventhesituation.MyhandsshookasIgatheredthepapersfromtheprinterandgrabbedmystapler.

Flashwasgone.Oh,wherewashe?Wehadnoidea.I

couldn’tbelievethishadhappened.Ourdonkeywaslost.Postingsignstonearby

poleswastheonlythingleftIcouldthinkoftohelpuslocateFlashandbringhimhome.

Iwentoverthelasttwenty-fourhours.Weatherreportshadwarnedofovernightstorms,sowe’dspenttheeveningputtinglawnchairsinside,makingsurewindowswereclosed,andsecuringanythingwe

thoughtmightblowaway.ThisiswhenbeingmarriedtoatrueNorthernerwithasiegementalityisexceptionallyadvantageous.

IhadputsomeextrahayinFlash’shayrackandgivenhimagood-nightpat,butIleftthestalldooropensohecouldspendthenightwhereverhewanted.Hestillpreferredthecreekbedinthe

woodstothenoisymetalbarn,especiallyduringstorms.Bynowheknewwheretostaysheltered,andthoughIhadofferedmysensibleadvicetostayinsidethestructure,Ididn’tworryabouthim.

Aspromised,thenightbroughtgustywindsanddrivingrain.TomandIlayinbedandtriedtosleepwhile

welistenedtotheroofmakecrackingnoisesandenduredthesoundsofbranchesscrapingthewindows.“Isn’tafitnightoutformannorbeast!”TomquippedinhisbestYukonCorneliusvoice,andwelaughedatthetime,feelinghappywe’dpreparedforit.

Onlynowitdidn’tseemsofunny.Bymorning’slight,wehadfounddownedbranchesstrewnaroundtheproperty,trashcansoverturned,andworstofall,apasturegateblownoffitshingesintothemuddyground.Uh-oh.

TomandIclompedthroughtheblackclay,whichstucktothebottomsofour

bootsandaddedaninchtoouroverallheights.Weputthegatebackintoplaceandsecureditwithrope.

“HopefullyFlashdidn’tnoticethegatedownanddecidetogetout.Anysignofhoofprints?”Iasked,peeringatthegroundaroundthegate.Toourrelief,wecouldn’tseeasingleone,andwebreathedaprematuresighof

happiness.AtleastFlashisallright,wethought.Justtobeonthesafeside,wedecidedtosplitupandchecktherestofthegatesandfences.Iheadedofftowardthebarntosetoutsomemorninghayandcalledforhimtocomeforbreakfast.

ButnoFlashcame.Iwaited.Calledagain.Waitedsomemore.

Nodonkey.“Areyousurethere

weren’tanyhoofprints?”IqueriedTominthehouse,theninsistedhegobackandinspectonemoretime.

“Nothing,Rachel,”Tomassuredme.“Butthatdoesn’tmeananything.Itwouldbejusttypical,wouldn’tit?Hoofprintsarenoindicationofwhetherhegotoutthrough

thereornot.Thinkabouthowoftenhematerializesonthissideofthefenceinthehockeyarea.Idon’tknowhowhedoesit,butsomehowhedoes.”

Goodpoint.Inadditiontothehockeyareas,Flashwasalsofamousformakingourropebarricadesacrossthebarnopeningsquiteirrelevant.Wheneverwe

neededFlashtomindhisownbusinessandstayoutofourway,wepulledamultilayered,crosshatchedsystemofropesacrosstheexpanseandsecuredthemwithaseriesofeyehooksandcarabiners.Toolowtothegroundtogounder,toohightogoover,toosolidtogothrough.

Thatis,foranyoneandanythingexceptFlash.Healwaysgotthrough.

Butweneveractuallysawhimdoit.Thatwasthemystery.Wecouldbenearby,engrossedinsomebarnactivity,whensuddenlytherewasFlash.Justnonchalantlyscratchingsomeimaginaryitchwithhisteeth.Thenhe’dlookup,alllike,Ohhey,what

areYOUdoinghere?I’mjustitchy...justscratchin’myitch.

Tobehonest,itwasalittlecreepy.

Wasthisdisappearanceanotheroneofhistricks?Wehadafulldayofworkaheadandnotimetogochasingdownanelusivedonkey.Icalledourclientandexplainedthathopefullythis

wouldn’ttakelong;wewouldarrivejustalittlelaterthanplannedtofinishherkitchenbacksplash.Theladywasunderstanding,althoughIdidhavetorepeat,“Mydonkey,yes,that’sright,mydonkeyhasgonemissing.No,notmydoggie.Mydonkey,asinHEE-hawdonkey!”Idon’tknowwhythatwassohardtounderstand.

Backoutside,TomandIcombedtheimmediatearea.Weworkedourwayfromthebackoftheproperty,throughtheyardnearthehouse,andintothewoodsinfront.Theproblemwith—sorry,oneoftheproblemswith—abrownish-graydonkeyisthatheblendsrightintothebrush.

Wehadalreadylearnedfromexperienceinthebackwoodsthatyoucouldbelookingrightathimandnotseehim.Helovedtomakeuscallhimuntilwewereexasperated.Allthewhile,hewassilentlybidinghistimefromfourfeetaway,stillasastatue,andthenhe’dstartleusbymovingatfullspeed.Whoa,now!Nostrilsflared,

withawild-eyedlook,he’dnearlyplowusover,barelyabletocontainhisexcitementforhavingpulledafastone.He’dstopshortatthelastsecond,quiveringindelight.I’vereadthatdonkeys’depthperceptionishamperedbytheirwide-seteyes,andIbelieveit.Healwaysseemedsurprisedtocomeuponussoquickly.

Wecalledandwhistled.(Well,Tomwhistled.I’venevergottenthehangofit.)Weshookcontainersofoats.

Nothing.He’dbetternotberightunderournosesthiswholetime.I’llkillhim.

Wemetattheroadandthensplitupagain.Tomwenteast,andIwentwestalongthenarrowlane.Calling,whistling(again,notme),and

makingenticingnoiseswithourbuckets.Aboutahalfmiledowntheroad,myphonerang.ItwasTom.

“Thisispointless.Hecouldbeanywhere.Ithinkwe’dbetternotifythesheriff’sdepartment,”Tomsaid.“Thatway,ifsomeonereportsthatthey’vefoundhim,they’llknowtocallus.”Iagreeditwasagood

approachbutsecretlyhopedourcallwouldn’tbeansweredbyeitherofthesheriffswhowerearoundthelasttimehebustedout.Ididn’twantFlashtobetheposterchildfor“donkeyproblems.”Youknowhowpeopleliketolabeltroublemakers.

But,asfatewouldhaveit...

“Youthedonkeypeople?”Itwasthedeputyfromthenightoftheromanticrendezvous.Sigh.Iwentaheadandexplainedoursituation.“We’llcallyouifwehearanything,”hesaid.“Don’tworry,weknowwhereyoulive.”

IknewhewaswritingthisonFlash’spermanentrecord,butwhatchoicedidwehave?

Weneededhishelp.BythetimeIhungupthephone,thecoffeeIhaddrunkearlierwasmakingmystomachhurt.Realitystartedtohitme.

WhatifFlashnevercomesback?Whatifweneverfindhim?Whatifsomeonestealshim?Coulditreallybethat,injustafewyears’time,I’dbecomesoattachedtothislong-eared

characterthatthethoughtoflosinghimnowbrokemyheart?Thedepthofmyemotionscaughtmeoffguard.Don’tbesilly,Rachel.He’sjustadonkey.ButIknewhe’dbecomemuchmorethanthat.

AsIgatheredupthestackofflyers,thewordsMISSINGDONKEYshoutedatme.I

momentarilysilencedthemwithprayer.

“God,IknowYouhavemuchbiggerproblemstosolvetoday.Iknowtherearewarsandfaminesandpeoplewhohaveseriousneeds.ButwouldYoupleasehelpusfindFlash?Ilovehim.IbelieveYougavehimtousforareason.Hehasbeen

suchablessing.Asweet,crazyblessing.Pleasebringhimhome.”

Icalledourclientonceagainandcanceledourprojectfortheday,notwantingtobeontheoppositesideofDallasifthephonerang.I’msureshecouldheartheworryinmyvoice,andshegraciouslyrescheduled.

Astheminutestickedby,IvaguelyrememberedanaccountintheBibleaboutsomemissingdonkeys.Maybeitwouldhelptoreadit.Afteralittledigging,Ifounditinthebookof1Samuel.Isettledintotakemymindofftheworry.

NowthedonkeysofKish,Saul’sfather,werelost.1 SAMUEL 9 : 3 , E SV

Isatupfrommycushionedslouchanddidadoubletake.Icouldinstantlyrelate.Somehow,Iknewthiswasgoingtobeagoodnarrative.

Kish,awealthymaninIsrael,instructshisson,Saul,totakeaservantandgofindawanderingbandofdonkeys.Itprobablywasnotahugerequest.Thedonkeyswerelikelyallowedtograzefreely—and,hey,howfarcandonkeysgo,anyway?Pssh.Thisjobjustgoesalongwithbeingasonofarichguy,andmaybeKishthoughtalittle

daytripwouldbeagoodexperienceforhim.SoSaulandtheservantstartlooking.

Theylookhighandlow,upanddownandallaround,buttheycannotfindthedonkeysanywhere.Theykeepwideningtheircircleuntilthey’vetraveledaroundtheentirearea.Eventually,theirsimpletaskhasturnedintoathree-day,grueling

search...andstillnothing.They’veexhaustedallofthecountrysideintheirtribe’slandandprobablyaredebatingwhethertoscourtheneighboringregion.

Thiswassoundingfamiliar.

Saulfinallygivesupandsaystohisservant,“We’dbetterheadhome.I’msuremyfatherisn’tconcerned

aboutthedonkeysanymore.Buthe’sprobablywonderingwhathappenedtous.”Somehow,IthinkSaulmayhaveaddedafewchoiceadjectivesbeforetheworddonkeys,buttheScripturewriterwiselyleavesthemout.

Theservanthasalast-minute,brilliantidea.“Hey!Beforeweleave,let’sgotothenexttownwherearevered

prophetlives.Maybehe’llknowwherethedonkeyshavewanderedto.”

Justastheyarepassingthroughthegatesofthevillagetofindthisprophet,whoshouldbecomingtowardthembuttheverymantheyarelookingfor—Samuel.Theyareliterallyabouttobumpintooneanother.

Itisaholyintersection.Saulisattherightplaceatjusttherighttime.Onthepreviousday,whileSaulandtheservantwerestilloutinthemiddleofnowherelookingforthosedonkeys,GodhadspokentoSamuelandtoldhimtobeonthelookoutforthissameyoung

man.HegaveSamuelanimportanttask—toanointSaulthekingofIsrael.

Whenthetwomeet,SamuelinvitesSaultoeatwithhim,promisingtotellSaulthefollowingmorningwhatheandhisservantwantedtoknow.Andthenheaddssomethingstrange.“Bytheway...aboutthosemissingdonkeys.Someone

foundthemandreturnedthemtoyourfather,soyoudon’tneedtoworryanymore.”

Wait.Ilookedupfromtheopenpagesandsquintedmyeyesatadistantpointinpuzzlement.IthoughttheonethingSaulwantedtoknowwasthewhereaboutsofthedonkeys.Buttheprophetjusttoldhimthey’dbeenfound.

So...thatshouldbeallthereistoit.ItseemstomelikeSauljustlearnedthethinghewantedtoknow—thatthedonkeyshadbeenfound.

ApparentlyGodhadsomethingelseinmind.

Suddenly,itdawnedonme.Saulonlythoughtthisjourneywasaboutdonkeys.Butitwasreallyaboutsomuchmore.

Intheseshortparagraphs,IsawthatGodusedtheproblemofroundingupabandofrenegadedonkeystoputSaulonacollisioncoursewithdestiny.GodmovedSaulfromhisownlittleworld,bymeansofafrustratingmission,intoaplaceofencounter.AplacewhereGodwasgoingtodo

somethingextraordinary.Thisjourney,Saullearned,wasneveraboutthedonkeys.

Isatonthecouch,withmyphoneinonehandandBibleintheother,hopingsomeonewouldcallmewithFlash’swhereabouts.Buttheminutestickedbyinsilence,soIkeptreading.IthoughtmaybeIwasgettingtothebestpartandtriedtofocuson

thewordsonthepageinsteadofthinkingaboutFlash.Outthereallalone.Withnoonetocomforthim.

Iwilledmyhearttostopitsanxiouspace.Breathe,Rachel.

Thestorywrapsupwithafinalscene.Thenextday,SamueltakesSaulasideandtellshimthetruereasonforhisrounduptask.Heanoints

hisheadwithoil,tellshimheisgoingtobeking,andrevealswhatwillhappenonhiswayhome.HesaystoSaul,“Fromthismomenton,you’llbechangedintoadifferentperson.”Aftersomefinalinstructions,Samuelsendshimonhisway.AsSaulturnsandstartstoleave,somethingamazinghappens:Godgiveshimanewheart.

Saul’slifewasforeverchangedinthatmoment.Hisheartwasnew.Hewasdifferent.Inthatinstant,hewentfrombeing“thattallkid”fromanobscurefamilytobeingthekingofanentirenation.Fromwet-behind-the-earsbumpkintopowerfulleader.Hemovedfromdoubttofaith,feartocourage,insecuritytoconfidence.It

wasahistory-makingintersectionofobedienceanddestinythatallstartedwith...adonkeyproblem.

Saul’swillingnesstotakeontheunglamorousjoboffindingsomewaywardanimalsputhimintheperfectspotforSamueltofindhim.IttookSauloutofhiscomfortzoneandputhimintoaplaceofheartchange.

Godwasworkingbehindthescenesthewholetime,orchestratingandcreating“chanceopportunities”thatledSaulstraightintohispurposeandcalling.

Hewastransformed.Lostdonkeys.God’s

purposes.Adatewithdestiny.IwonderedifGod

mightstillbeinthebusinessofusingsuchhumblemeansforagreaterpurpose.

IfonlyIhadadonkey.Becauseminewasstill

missing.IhadfrettedwhenFlash

arrivedinourlivesasalostdonkey,andnowitappearedthathe’dleaveinthesame

manner.Ididn’tliketheawfulironyofit.Notafterallwe’dbeenthroughtogether.

Ithoughtofhisears—thosebeautifulears.Andthewayhisnostrilsflaredwhenhewasexcitedaboutgettingasnack.Hiscrazybray,heardlessoftenthesedays,butendearinginitsearnestness.Ilovedhowhesometimesbuckedforjoywhenwe

calledhiminfromthefieldfordinner,andhowhelikedtofollowmearoundonmyexercisewalksaroundhispasture.

Iwouldmisshimsoterriblyifhenevercameback.MymindwasalreadyplayingahighlightreelofallofFlash’sgoldenmoments,accompaniedbyGreenDay’s“TimeofYourLife.”

Oh,thestoriesIrecalled.LikethetimeFlash

showedupinthebarnwithahaircut.Ahaircut!Somehow,someway,hismanehadbeentrimmedintoachoppymohawk.Onedayhejustwalkeduptothegatewithadifferenthairdo.

Wecouldn’timaginehowithadhappened,ormoredisconcerting,whowould

sneakintoourpasturewithscissorstochopoffhismane.Orwhy.Whywouldsomeonegivemydonkeyspikedbangs?

Wewentoverthepossiblescenariosandsuspects.BridgetteandSteve,asfarasweknew,wereoutoftown.Weeliminatedthemrightoffthebat,eventhoughwecouldseehowthe

importanceofgoodhair,atleastforaSouthernwoman,wouldbeamplemotivation.

Theonlyotheradjoiningpropertywasthebabymama’spasture.Perhapsmonthsofwatchingtheprettylittlemarebecomethesizeofabargehadcausedherownertonurseagrudge,whichculminatedintakingsomescissorstoFlash’smaneinan

actofrage.Likeasubtlebutcrazedmessagetosay,“I’mwatchingyou.”Itseemedlikeastrangewaytogetamessageacross,butyouneverknow.Imean,hecouldjustcallus.We’reinthephonebook.

Maybesomescissors-happykidwanderedby,andseeingahaplessvictimacrossthefence,decided,“Why

not?”PerhapscuttingFlash’smaneintoraggedstrokesfulfilledsomekindofdreamforhim.Itcouldhappen.

OrhadFlashhimselfhiredsomeonetocomeinandgivehimanew“metro”look?Washetiredofhishipsterhairthatsaid,“Ican’trememberthelasttimeIhadahaircut,butsincethislookisnowmainstreamwith

donkeys,it’snotcoolanymore”?Itseemedaplausibleexplanation,givenhisloveforplaidandvinylrecords.

Coulditbealiens?Nah.Surelynot.

ItwaslikeanepisodeofUnsolvedMysteries.

Forweeks,wedraggedeveryguestouttoseeFlash’sridiculoushairdo.We

speculatedandlaughedattheideathatsomeonewouldhavenothingbettertodothantrimFlash’smaneandthensortof“forget”totellus.Buttherehadtobesomeexplanation!

Acoupleofmonthslater,whenBridgetteandStevereturnedfromalongvacationandwewerecatchingup,Imanagedtocasuallyworkin

thequestion,“Say,doyouknowanythingaboutFlash’shaircut?”Theydid.

Bridgette’sson,Heath,hadbeenvisitingjustbeforetheywentoutoftowntogether,andhehadgoneovertopetFlash.Flashhadrolledinaburrpatch,fillinghismanewiththethorny

stickers.So,Heathhelpfullycuttheburrsout...aaandforgottotellus.

TheMysteryofthePhantomBarbersolved.

Itwasonlyslightlydisappointingtolearnitwasn’taliensafterall.

Butthiswasn’ttheonlymysteryFlashhadbeeninvolvedwith.Therewasalso

theMiracleoftheBlueHoof.Thatwasthetimewhen—

Rrrrring!Justthen,mycellphone

rang.Itwasthesheriffwithsomenews.“Yes?Goon!”Somebodyhadfoundarandomdonkeywanderingaroundandhadputhimintheirpastureforsafekeeping.CoulditbeFlash?Itmustbe.Please,letitbeFlash.The

propertywasaboutamileaway,downourtwistyroadthroughthewoods,overasingle-lanebridge,andpastacoupleofneighborhoods.

IimaginedFlashmoseyingalong,searchingforthatnextbladeofdeliciousgrass,notrealizinghewasgettingfartherandfartherfromhome.Icouldpicturehimlookingupand

notrecognizinghissurroundings.Hemustbesoscaredandlonely!MydearFlash.IfeltasmallsparkofhopeasIlacedupmyshoesandgrabbedthetruckkeys.

ThesheriffmetTomandmeatthelocationandgaveusthat“youagain”nodofrecognition.Inoticedhehadaclipboardandwastakingnotes.IsilentlywilledFlash,

ifindeedthiswasFlash,tobehavehimselfinthepresenceofthelaw.Icertainlydidn’twanttoseehismugshothangingonthebulletinboardofthelocalconveniencestore.

Mr.Sheriffescortedusaroundthehouseandbacktothepasturetoseeifthisstraydonkeywasours.MylegsfeltlikejellyasIheldmybreath.

Flash!Itwashim!Hisheadwasoverthe

gate,lookingstraightatuswithhisearsprickedforward,justasifhe’dbeenwaitingtheretheentiretime.Therewerethetwotelltalescars,likechoppylinesacrosshisnose.Therewasthedeepscaracrosshischestandtheoneonhisleftshoulder.The

smallhoovesandlong,wispytail.Thechocolate-coloredcrossonhisshoulders.Thestripedownthecenterofhisbacktohistail.Therubberylipsandeagerbrowneyes.ReliefpouredovermeasItookineveryinchofhim.

“Isthisyouranimal?”theofficerinquired,bushyeyebrowsupandpenpoised.

“Yessir,”werepliedinunison,reachingoverthegateandcaressinghiswhitemuzzle.“Yes,thisisFlash.Thisisourdonkey.”Flashpressedhimselfcloseandcockedhisheadtothesidewitheyesclosed,clearlyhappytoseeus.

“Well,that’ssomedonkeyyou’vegotthere.”Thesheriffsmiled,putting

thepeninhispocket.“I’lllety’alltakeitfromhere.”Heturnedtoleave,thenpausedandlookedback.“Moststraysaroundheredon’thaveanyonewhocaresenoughtocomelookingforthem.I’mgladthisonehasagoodhome.”

“Well,he’spartofourfamily,”Tomreplied.“Iwouldn’thavebelievedwe’d

loveadonkeythismuch,buthe’sprettyspecial.”HepulledoutthehalterandleadropewhileIwrappedmyarmsaroundFlash’sneckandsqueezedhimtightly.Ilovedhisdonkeysmell—amixtureofdust,grass,sweat,andgentleness.

Withatipofhishat,thesheriffleftustothetaskofgettingFlashhome.Maybe

he’dcomewillinglythistime.Ornot.IhavenoideahowSaul

thoughtthatheandonehelpercouldgetawholebandofwanderingdonkeyshomefromthecountryside,becauseTomandIcouldn’tgetonestraydonkeytomovetwentyfeet.Flashduginhisheelsandrefusedtocomealong.Maybehewasjustputtingon

ashowforthehorsesontheproperty,tryingtoimpressthemwithhispowertoimpede.Maybehewasn’tdonewithhisadventure.

Whateverthecase,afteranhourofcoaxing,offeringoats,andwaitingforhimtodecide,wewereonlyastone’sthrowintoourone-milewalk.Thesunwasstartingtoset,andFlashwas

innohurrytocooperate,despitethefacthewasbeingrescuedonceagain.

“Yourdonkeyneedsobedienceschool,”Tomsaid,adjustingtheleadropeinhishands.

“Dulynoted.”IrolledmyeyesathimoverFlash’srumpfrommypositionattherear.Ifwecouldevergethimhome,I’dlookrightintothat.

Obviously,westillneededhelpwithourspecial,much-loveddonkey.

Thehomeownersawourpredicamentandofferedtheuseofhishorsetrailer.Slowly,weurgedFlashintoit,successfulatlast.Wedrovebackhome,andaswepulledintoourpastureandunloadedhim,wefeltanacutesenseofgratitude.Tom

wasright.Flashwasn’t“justadonkey”tousanymore.Hewaspartofthefamily.Hewasours.And,hewasasign.Okay,maybenotasign,butareminderofsomething.AreminderofGod’sprovidenceandcare.

IwatchedFlashpauseandtakeinthesceneofhisfamiliarpasture.Hebreathedtheairandsniffedthe

wildflowers.Henibbledonthetendershootsofgrassthatpokedupfromthemoistground,givingadeepsighashislipsfoundthenextbite.Despitehisreluctancetotravel,Flashwasgladtobebackwherehebelonged.Safewithinourcareonceagain.Ilingerednearhimandraisedasilentprayerofthanks.

Thenithitme.HowmanytimeshadIstoodinthemiddleofthisveryfieldandtalkedtoGod?HowmanytimeshadIaskedforhelp?Lookedupintheskyandprayedforasign?HowmanytimeshadIsearchedScriptureforamessagethatwouldmeetmyneed?AndhowoftenhadGodletmygazefallbackuponthisstray

donkeyandgivenmeapictureofHisgraceandloveandguidance?ThislostdonkeyhadbroughtmetoaplaceofencounterwithHimmoretimesthanIcouldcount.

Asaresult,Iwasdifferent.Myhearthadbeentransformed.Mylifewaschanged.

IclosedmyeyesforamomentandthoughtaboutSaulandhowaproblemwithdonkeyshadbroughthimtohisdestiny.AndIwonderedaboutallthe“donkeyproblems”Ifacedinlife.ThetimesIthought,IfIcanjustfigureoutwhatI’mgoodat,or,IfIcouldjustchangethisrelationship,or,IfIcouldmakeawholegobofmoney.

IrealizedhowoftenImadethemistakeofthinkingthatfixingthingswaswhatthejourneywasallabout.IfIcanonly“findthesedonkeys,”solvetheissue,andgetpastthisproblem,everythingwillworkout.I’llgobacktomynormallifeinmylittletowninobscurityandlivehappilyeverafter.

Maybewealldothis.Wewanderalloverthefigurativecountrysidetryingtosolveourdonkeyproblems.Ourfinancialsetbacks.Ourhurtingmarriages.Ourparentingissues.Oursoul-killingjobs.Rockyrelationships.Illhealth.Insecurities.Fears.Doubts.Webegintothinkwe’reonahopelessmissionandthereis

noendinsight.Wefeellikewehavefailed.Wethinkweareinsignificant.WethinkGoddoesnotseeornoticeus.Webecomefrustratedwiththetask.

Butwhatwedon’trealizeisthat,evenwhilewe’reoutthereinthemiddleofNowherevillelikeSaulwas,Godhasalreadybeenat

work.Infact,Nowherevilleisjustwherewearesupposedtobe.

Istartedtoseethatallofourdonkeyproblems,ourhardsituations,aretheverythingsGodusestogetustoaplaceofencounter.Aplacewhereourheartsaremadenew.LikeSaul,we’vecometotheendofeverythingwecanthinkoftodo,andwe’ve

givenup.Andthenwegiveitonelastchance,onemoreshot,andboom.That’sthemomentGodshowsup.Whenwe’reoutofourcomfortzones,haveusedupallofourresources,andareattheendofallhope.

That’sexactlytheplacewhereHemeetsus.That’sjustwhereHe’dmetmesomanytimesbefore.AndI

suddenlyknewthatitwasthroughmycircumstancesthatGodhadchangedme.I’dgonefromastarry-eyeddreamertoawiser,seasonedwomanwhowasn’tafraidofhardworkandovercomingobstacles.IwentfromfearoffailingtoconfidenceinHisgrace.FromonewhosimplyreadaboutGod’sstrengthinweaknesstoonewho

experienceditfirsthand.Fromsomeonewhodespisedthestrugglestoonewhoembracedthelessonsfoundinthem.AllthesituationsItriedtofixweresimplyHismeanstogetmetowhereHewantedmetobe.

IsteppedclosetoFlashandleanedmyweightonhisshoulders,myarmscrossed

andchinrestingonmyhands.“Hey,DonkeyBoy.MyFlashy.”

Hebroughthisheadupandturnedtoacknowledgeme,hisearsswingingaroundatthesoundofmywhisper.ThesinkingsunmadehiseyeslookwarmandunderstandingasIstrokedhissmoothbrowncoatandtracedthedarkcrossonhisback

withmyfinger.Hismaneruffledinthebreeze,thecoarsemulticoloredhairticklingmyarmasIcircledhisneckonemoretime.Flashblewsoftlythroughhislipsinacontentedppphhhfff.

Thisjourneyisneveraboutlostdonkeys.Instead,it’salwaysaboutheartchange.It’sabout

transformation.It’saboutGodshowingupandmakingusnew.

Lostdonkeys.God’spurposes.Adatewithdestiny.

Yourjourneyisn’taboutfixingdonkeyproblems.It’sabouttransformation.

WehadnearlylostFlash,thedonkeywhohadenteredourlivesasastraydiversioninourbusy,overwhelmedworld.

Whew.I’msogladhe’sbackhome!

Feelinggratitudeallthewaydowntomytoes,Imadesurethepasturegatewasclosedandthechainwassecured.Flashhadbeen

followingmyeverymovesincewereturnedandnowpokedhisnoseoverthetoprungofthegateforapartingkiss.Ilaughedatthewayhisbottomlipjuttedtothesideasherestedhischinonthegateandgavemethatirresistibledonkeygaze.Youknow,theonethatimplores

youforjustabitmoreattention—andapossiblelasthandout.

“Sillyboy.”Ileanedforwardandpressedmylipstohissoftmuzzleandpattedthesweetspotonhisnose.“Goon,now.”Heswunghisheadupandpaused,turninghisearstowardmejustincaseI’dchangemymind

aboutleaving.Thenheswishedhistailandmoseyedtowardthewoods.

Backinsidethehouse,Imadeabeelineformyoffice.Igrabbedthestackof“MissingDonkey”flyersI’dmade,crumpledthem,andthrewthewaddedpapersaway.Justforgoodmeasure,Iknottedthetrashbaganddroveittotheendofthe

driveway,eventhoughitwasawholedaybeforethegarbagecollection.IwantedthosesignsoutofthehousesoIwouldn’tberemindedofhowclosewehadcometolosingourfour-leggedfamilymember.

SteppingoutoftheExplorer,Itossedthebagtotheedgeoftheroadandceremoniouslywipedmy

handsofit.Done!ButasIturnedtogetbackintothetruck,Ihadsecondthoughts.Iuntiedthebagandpulledoutarumpledpage,smoothingitonmyleg.Perhapsitwouldbegoodtokeeponeasareminderafterall.IheldtheflyerinmyhandasIsatbehindthesteeringwheel,parkedin

nearlythesamespotasthatfirstnightwhenFlashhadshownup.

Whatajourneyithadbeensofar!

Duskhadfallen,andasIlookedthroughthewindshieldatthemuddydriveway,mymindrelivedthatcold,bumpydrivehomefromajobthatwouldn’tpayourbills.Thatnight,allIhad

wantedwasawarmshowerandanendtothestruggleswewerefacing.MyheartwastooheavyandIwastootiredtopray,butsomehow,Godhadheardme.

There,inourheadlights,wasamangydonkey.

Helookedatus,andwepeeredbackathim,thedustswirlingabouthisfeetlike

smokeinastageshow.Grassprotrudedfromhislips.Heswallowedhard.

Thedonkeydidnotlooklikeamiracle.Helookedlikealotoftrouble.

Itwouldhavebeentheeasiestthingintheworldtosimplyignorehim,driveuptothehouse,getreadyforbed,andthenpullthecoversoverourheads.TomandI

weretiredanddiscouraged.Weweren’tspeakingtoeachother.Wejustwantedtoputthedaybehindusandhadeveryreasontokeepgoingpasthim.Andhadwedrivenonby,Imightneverhavegivenmuchthoughtaboutachanceencounterwithalowlybeastintheroad.“Huh,adonkey.Thatwasweird.”

Hewouldhavebeenthefootnoteonataleofahorridday.

ButTom’sseatbeltwasalreadyunbuckled,andheopenedthedoor.Andwithonetiredsighandadecisiontogetout,thegamechanged.

Wethoughtwewererescuingadonkeythatnight.

Buttherealityis,Godhadsentalostdonkeytohelprescueus.

Weweretheonesneedinghelp.Weweretheoneswhoneededtoknowwewerenotalone.ThatGodhadnotforgottenus.ThatHehadapurposeforus.ThatwematteredtoHim.

WeneededtoknowGodwaswithus,andthatwecouldstillrelyonHim.WeneededtoknowHecouldreachdownandmakesomethinggoodhappen,andthatHecouldstillspeaktoordinarypeoplelikeus.

SoHeputadonkeyinthedriveway.

Andwecouldhavedrivenrightby.

Butwewouldhavemissedtheverythingweneededmost.

Wecouldnothaveimaginedtheanswertoourprayerswouldcomeinsuchanunexpected,inconceivablepackage.Isn’titGod’sstyletoprovidesomethingwondrous,somethingnewsworthy,somethingwithalittleglamourtoastoundus?

That’swhatIwouldhaveenvisioned.Apackagewithfuzzyears,anenormoushead,bigteeth,andaloudbray?Hardly.Butthen,Godhasasenseofhumor.PerhapsHeknewthatitwouldtakeareluctant,lostdonkeytoillustrateHismessagetoreluctant,lostpeoplelikeus.

HegaveusFlash.ThroughFlash’sexample,welearnedhowtoliveabundantlyinourcircumstances,withgratitudeandjoy.Heremindedustokeepbreakingdownfencestofindourpassion,andwelearnedtorunwithhorsesandfindsatisfactionthroughservingotherswithlove.Hetaughtustowearourdonkey

heartsonoursleevesandopenuptotheworldaroundus.Heremindedustonotbeafraidofchange...toletgoofthepastandembracepossibilities.Hisdonkeytrailspointedoutthatourploddingwasreallygoingsomewhereafterall.Heshowedushowtomakethemostofthedayswearegiven.Suchpricelesslessons.

Flash,inhisowninimitableway,taughtushowGodinteractswithHispeople.IfoundHeusestheeverydaypartsofourlivestoilluminatespiritualtruthsandtodrawusclosetoHim.IthinkmaybeI’dforgottenthat.God’svoiceisechoedinthestoplights,thegrocerystoreruns,thewalksinthepark,andthechatteraround

thedinnertable.Hecallstousaswedothelaundryandthedishes,balancecheckbooks,andreadbedtimestories.

DoyouhearHim?Heisinchanceencounterswithunlikelycharacters.Hispresenceisnearerthanwecanimagine.Hishandis

neverfar,andHisSpirithoversoverusaswegoaboutourdailylives.

Sometimes,wejustneedtopayattention.

Listen.Observe.Bestill.Unbuckleourseatbelts

andgetoutofthecarwhenwe’dratherdriveonpast.

Thisiswhatastraydonkeytaughtus.

Butmostimportant,FlashremindedusofGod’sinfinite,unfathomablelove.HeremindedusthatHetakesworthless,unworthy,unwillingpeopleandsetsHisheartonthem.Onus.Onyouandme.Hislovemakesusvaluable,worthy,andbeautiful.Hehealsourscars,Heprovidesforourneeds,andHegivesusmorethanwe

couldaskfor.WeareHis.WebelongtoHim.Hecallsusbyname,and

Hebringsussafelyhome.

LessonsfromFlash

1Rememberyourname.

Knowwhoseyouare.

2Knowwheretofindrefuge.

TruesanctuaryisfoundinGodalone.

3Runwithhorses.Thepursuitofexcellenceconquersfear.

4Findyourpassion.Passionleadstopurpose.

5Beatrailblazer.Persistencemakespathwaysforgracetofollow.

6Wearyourdonkeyheartonyoursleeve.

Awell-livedlifeisanauthenticlife.

7Standwherefruitisfalling.

Thesecretofabundanceisinchoosinggratitude.

8Beaserviceanimal.

Youaremadetoservein

Youaremadetoserveinlove.

9Embracechange.Don’tletfearoftheunknownkeepyoufrommovingforward.

10Makethingsrightwithothers.

Don’tmissyourchancetoforgive,accept,andlove.

11Yourjourneyisn’taboutfixingdonkeyproblems.

It’sabouttransformation.

Q&AwithRachelAnneRidge

WhatmadeyoudecidetowriteaboutFlash?

Flashissuchacharming,endearingcharacter,howcouldInotwriteabouthim?Seriously,IbegantonoticethatIhadtheselittlescribblednotesandobservationsabouthiminmyjournals...thingsthatbegantodevelopintothreadsofunderstanding.Istartedtoseehimasmyownpersonalobjectlesson!IguessI’mavisuallearner,

andthisishowGodmakesthingsconnectwithme.WhenIwroteaboutFlashonmyblogandsawhowheresonatedwithmyreaders,itseemedcleartomethatheshouldbethecatalystforthebook.

Youmentioninthebookthatpartofyourgrowing-upyearswerespentasa

missionarykidinMexico.Whatwasyourchildhoodlike?Howdidyourearlyexperiencesshapeyoutobereadyforanythinglifethrowsyourway—whetherit’sstartingyourownbusinessordiscoveringadonkeyinyourdriveway?

Growingupasamissionarykidreallydidpreparemeforbeingopentonewexperiences.IlovedthecolorfulcultureIwasexposedto—thepeopleandthelanguage(andthedonkeys)gavemeanappreciationforasimplerlifestylethanwetypicallyexperienceintheUnitedStates.IthinkI’vealways

longedtorecreatethatwithmyownfamily.Livinginaforeigncountry,myparentsmodeledaviewoflookingatinterruptionsaspossibilitiesandseeinginconveniencesasopportunitiesforGodtowork,andIamdeeplygratefulfortheirexample.IbelieveIcouldhaveeasilymissedFlash’slessonswithoutthatmind-setof

expectation.

Donkeysareoftenlabeled“stubborn”and“ornery.”YetFlashseemstoimmediatelywintheheartof(almost)everyonehemeets.Whydoyouthinkwerespondsostronglytohim?Doyouthinkalldonkeyshavepeoplemagnetism?

Idothinkthatdonkeysareparticularlyendearingtopeople!Firstofall,there’sthecutenessfactor.Thoseears!Thosenoses!Butalso,Ithinkthereisahumilityandgentlenesstheyexudethatdrawspeoplein.Theyareextremelysocialandloyal,twoqualitiesthatmakeforgoodrelationshipsofanykind.Flashhasahuge

personalitythatpeoplerespondto,andhisadventuresmakeeveryonesay,“Awww.”

The“stubborn”stereotypeisonethatwe“donkeypeople”areverysensitiveto,andwetrytoeducateothersaboutit.Donkeysaren’tactuallystubborn;theyarecautiousbynatureandwillhesitate(orrefuse)todo

anythingtheyareunsureof.Ratherthanboltingfromafrighteningsituationlikeahorsemight,theywillstopandthinkaboutit.Theymusttrusttheirownerorhandlercompletelyinordertodowhatisbeingaskedofthem.Toooften,ahandlerbecomesfrustratedandwillmistreata

donkey,whichonlycreatesdistrustandexacerbatesthe“stubborn”myth.

Youshareinthebookaboutanartteacherwhodiscouragedyouatayoungage,andasaresultittookyouyearstoownyourartisticgifts.Howdidthatexperiencechangeyou?Ifyouranintothatteacher

todayandgotupenoughnervetosayanything,whatwoulditbe?Didyourexperienceaffectthewayyouguidedyourownchildrentodiscovertheirinterests?

Whatasadmomentthatwas!Lookingbacknow,Icanonlyimaginethattheteachermayhavebeenpreoccupiedor

mayhavesimplybeencaughtinabadmoment,whichhadanunintendednegativeimpactonmeasaninsecureseventhgrader.Idon’tharboranyillwilltowardhimnow,andsayinganythingtohimwouldnotchangethepast.

Thatexperiencehasmademeveryawareofhowpowerfulourwordscanbe,andI’vetriedtobeapositive

encouragerformyownkidsasthey’vediscoveredtheirinterests.Ialwayshadartsupplies,tools,paper,andbitsandpiecesofthingsonhandsotheycouldinventandcreatewhenevertheywanted.Today,Laurenisagraphicdesigner,Meghanisamusicteacher,andGraysonisonthepathtobecomingan

aerospaceengineer—sothey’vedefinitelyfoundtheirniches!

SinceFlashjoinedyourfamily,you’vebecomeanadvocatefordonkeyrescueandcareworldwide.Whathaveyoulearnedabouttheimportanceandsocialvalueofdonkeys,specificallyin

developingcountries?Howcanothersgetinvolvedtohelp?

I’msogladyouasked!HavingFlashhasopenedmyeyestothegreatimpactdonkeysstillhaveontheworld,andalsotheimmenseneedforrescueandwelfare.WeliveinsuchamodernsocietyhereintheUnited

Statesthatwerarelyevenseeadonkeyasapet,letaloneasaworkinganimal.Yettherearemorethanfiftymilliondonkeysintheworld,mostofwhomdothehardworkthatsustainsfamiliesandwholecommunities.Often,theseanimalsareoverworkedandsufferpoorhealth,which

decreasestheirlifespansandtheirabilitytohelpthepeoplewhoneedthem.

Oneorganizationwhosemissionistoaidthewelfareofdonkeys,horses,andmulesisTHEBROOKEintheUnitedKingdom(thebrooke.org).Theyhelpsomeofthepoorestcommunitiesinthe

worldbyprovidingprogramsandtreatmentfortheirworkingequines.

THEDONKEYSANCTUARYintheUnitedKingdom(www.thedonkeysanctuary.org.ukiswellknownforitsworkwithdonkeys.Theyfosterandadoptdonkeysinneed

andparticipateinanimalwelfareworkaroundtheworld.

SAMARITAN’SPURSE(samaritanspurse.org)providesdonkeys(andotherlivestock)toruralfamilieswhoneedthem,particularlyinLatinAmerica,Africa,andAsia.Donkeyscanpullplowsandwagons,haulproducts,carrywater,andprovide

transportation.Theymakeahugedifferenceinpeople’seconomiclivesbyallowingthemtoearnalivingandcreateafutureforthemselves.Ilovethat.

PEACEFULVALLEYDONKEYRESCUEinSanAngelo,Texas(donkeyrescue.org),isoneexampleofadonkeyrescueorganizationandhasfacilities

aroundtheUnitedStatesforrescuing,rehabilitating,andfindingnewhomesfordonkeys.I’vepersonallyvisitedtheirfacilityandevenadoptedanewdonkeyfriendforFlashfromthem!Theydoincredibleworkforthe“forgotten”donkeysofAmerica.

Youcanhelpanyoftheseorganizationswithmonetarydonations,andsomearelookingforhands-onvolunteersorpeoplewhowanttofosteroradoptdonkeys.Theymakeexcellentpetsandcompanions,soyoushouldthinkaboutgettingone!

Inthisbook,yousharewithgreatcandorandvulnerabilityaboutovercomingyourfearoftakingrisksonnewopportunities.WhatareyoudoingnowthatyouneverwouldhavedreamedofdoingbeforeFlashcameintoyourlife?

Well,writingabookaboutadonkey,foronething!Flashhastaughtmethatmy“sixty-twochromosomes”areenoughtoallowmeto“runwithhorses”!Ithinkofthatphraseoften,especiallyasI’mpresentedwithprojectsandopportunitiesthatscareme,suchasspeakingtogroupsandwritinga

children’sbook,asI’mdoingnow.Facingfearishard,butit’sworthit.

ThestoryofFlashspanssomedifficultandtumultuoustimesforyourfamily.Isthereaspecificquote,thought,orScriptureversethatsustainedyouthroughout?

Nomatterwhathappens,itseemsIalwayscomebacktoPsalm90:17,whichhasbecomemylifeverse:

LetthebeautyoftheLORDourGodbeuponus,

Andestablishtheworkofourhandsforus;

Yes,establishtheworkofourhands.

PSALM 9 0 : 1 7 , NK JV

IcreatedahugeprintofthisScriptureforourlivingroomsowecouldseeiteveryday.Itwas(andis)myprayerforourdays—thatwewouldexperienceGod’sbeautyandfavor,andthatHewouldtaketheworkofourhandsandmakesomethinggoodhappen.Sometimesjust

breathingthisverseasaprayerwasallIcoulddointhemidstofmystruggles,andIbelieveGodhasreallybeenfaithfultoanswerit.

Atitscore,whatwouldyousaythestoryofFlashisabout?

IbelievethestoryofFlash,myraggedystraydonkey,andofourfamilywhotookhimin,isastoryaboutGodshowingupineveryone’slivesinunexpectedways.It’saboutbeingawarethatwisdomtruly“shoutsinthestreets”asProverbs1:20describes,andthatwhatweneedtodoislearntolisten.

IthinkmostofussimplymissthefactthatHeisreachingouttous,becausewe’relookingforgreatbeamsoflightandangelicchoirstoannouncesomethinggrandiose.Weforgettolookattheeverydayinterruptions,theordinaryoccurrences,andthetasksthatfillourlivesasopportunitiestoexperienceGod’sloveandcare.Ihope

thatallwhoreadthebookwilllookattheirlivesinafreshwayandseethatthe“donkeys”thatshowupareactuallyextraordinarygiftsindisguise.

What’snewwithFlashandyourfamilysinceyoucompletedthebook?

I’msoexcitedtosaythatFlashhasanewbuddy—Henderson(akaHenry).Heisanadorableminidonkeythatweadoptedlastyear.Hisnamecomesfromtheoriginallog-inattherescuefacility,wherehewasidentifiedas“Henderson#10,”thetenthdonkeyinaroundupinHendersonCounty,Texas.Wesimplyhadtokeepthe

name!HeandFlashdoeverythingtogether,vyingforattention(andtreats)andgenerallyjustenjoyingeachother’scompany.It’ssofuntoseethemtogether!

Ourdaughters,LaurenandMeghan,haveeachhadababygirl,andourson,Grayson,isfinishinguphisstudiesatTexasA&M.Lifehaschangedalotinthepast

yearortwo,andIthinkI’veadjustedtoitnow.I’mwritingachildren’sbookandcreatingartinmystudio—twothingsIlovetodo.I’malsobusyonPinterestpinningphotosofthevintagecamperI’mdreamingofhavingoneday!

P.S.—Flashstartedobedienceschool(otherwiseknownasdonkey-ownertraining).Heislearningtowalkonalead,followcommands,andbeloadedintoatrailer.Heisa(mostly)willingandhappystudent.I’llkeepyoupostedonhisprogress.Thismaytakeawhile.

FollowFlashonFlashTheDonkey.com,Facebook.com/FlashTheDonkeyandTwitter@FlashTheDonkey.

Acknowledgments

Inbringingthisbooktolife,I’mdeeplyindebtedtomanypeoplewhohavemadeitpossible...

PriscillaShirer,mydear,preciousfriend.ThankyouforhiringmetopaintJackson’snurserysolongago.Itwasaphonecallthatchangedmylife.Youcontinuallyblessmewithyourencouragement,yourinsights,andyourspur-of-the-momentmovieinvitations.Youaretheworld’sbestcheerleader.And

Bibleteacher.BridgetteHawks,my

friendandSouthernbelle.Thankyouforlettingmesharethetenderpartsofourstory,andforbeingalatebloomerwithme.I’mgratefulyouputthatadinthepaperforthecharmingfarmhouse.Whenweansweredit,wegotwaymore

thanahouse—wegotanamazingfriendshipwithyouandSteve.Whatagift.

RuthSamsel,myincredibleagent.YourenergyandexcitementforFlashmadethiswholeprojectfun.Iknewfromyourfirsttextthatwewouldmakeagreatteam.Youseemtoknowjustwhentopushme,andjustwhentosendalittlecarepackageto

keepmyspiritsup.It’sanhonortobepartofWilliamK.JensenLiteraryAgency.

SarahAtkinson,myacquisitionseditoratTyndaleMomentum,whofellhardforFlashfromthefirstmomentsheheardofhim.Yourcommitmenttoseeingthisstorybecomearealbookmademebelieveinit.Thank

youtothetalentedteamatTyndaleHousePublishersforallofyourhardwork:JanLongHarris,SharonLeavitt,JillianVandeWege,NancyClausen,CassidyGage,MaggieRowe,andStephenVosloo.Itreallytickledmetothinkaboutyousittingaroundtogetherattheoffice,talkingaboutmydonkey.Oh,howIwishFlashcouldhaveknown

hewasbeingdiscussedinconferencerooms—byimportantpeople!Thenagain,he’dneverletmeforgetit.

BonneSteffen,myeditorwhomademymanuscriptsparkle.SorryforallthesentencesthatstartedwithAndandBut.Butsomehowyouhelpedmemakechangesthatkeptmyvoice,only

better.Andyouletmekeepafewofmy“choice”words.Youareamaster.

MelodyJohnson,akaTheDonkeyWhisperer.ThankyouforyourexpertiseandhelpwithFlashalongtheway.

I’mgratefulformyparents,TomandAnneRasmussen,whotaughtmetoseepastthe“interruptions”in

lifetofindwhatGodmightbedoingbehindthescenes.Yourfaithandexamplestillinspiremeeverysingleday.Thankyouforyourprayersandlove.

LaurenandRobertPenn,MeghanandNathanMiller,andGraysonRidge:Youguysalwaysmakemefeelontopoftheworldwithyourexcitementforthisbook,and

formydreams.I’mveryblessed,andmorethanalittlelucky,tobeyourmom.

Tommy:Thankyouforstoppingtohelpastraydonkeyonenight.It’sjustsotypicalofyou,andonemorereasonIloveyoumorethanwordscansay.

Lastly,Flash.Thanksforshowingupwhenyoudid.Youwerejustwhatwe

needed.

DiscussionQuestions

ScantheQRcodewithyourphoneorvisitthelinkbelowforaspecialmessagetobookgroupsfromRacheland

http://tyndal.es/flashintro

Flash!

1. Haveyouhada“donkeyinthedriveway”moment—atimewhensomethingunexpecteddisruptedyourlifeand

routine?Whatwasit,andhowdidyourespond?

2. ThecountysheriffdismissesFlashas“worthless.”Doyouagreethatalivingcreaturecanbeworthless?Whyorwhynot?Considersomeexamplesfromhistory,theBible,oryourown

experiencesinwhichaperson(orcreature)unvaluedbysocietycametomakeanimpactontheworld.Whatcharacteristics(ifany)dotheyshare?

3. Flash’s“earswereakeypartofhiscommunication—asilentformofexpressionthatdelightedus.”What

couldtheRidgestellaboutFlash’smoodbywatchinghisears?Thinkofafriendorfamilymembertowhomyou’reclose.Whatnonverbalcuesmightyounoticethatshowwhatthatpersonisfeeling—thingsacasualacquaintancemightmiss?

4. Inchapter2,Rachelcontraststhenamesshecallsherself(e.g.,inadequate,afraid,failure)withthenamesGodgivesher(e.g.,precious,found,enough).Whatwouldyourownnamesbe?WritetheGod-givennamesonacardandplaceitwhereyoucan

seeiteveryday.

5. Thinkofatimewhenyou,likeFlashshiveringoutsidehisbarnorRachelsufferingatragicloss,haveneededshelter.Whatwerethecircumstances?Wherewasyourrefuge—theplaceorpeoplewhobroughtyouinoutofthecold?Whatdidyou

learnaboutyourself,God,andyourrelationshipsfromthatdifficulttime?

6. WhatchangedforFlashafterhehadtheopportunitytorunwithhorses?Whatlongingsornewadventuresdoyouwanttopursueinyourownlife?Doessomethingneedto

changeinyourcircumstancestomakethesedreamsareality—andcanyoubeginrunningaftertheminsomewaytoday?

7. OneofRachel’schildhoodteachersdiscouragedherinawaythatmadeabigimpactonherlifeandfuture.Thinkbacktoyourown

childhood:Didyouhaveateacherorrolemodelwhoeitheraffirmedordismissedyourdreams?Iftheformer,howdidthatencouragementshapeyourlife?Ifthelatter,whatchangedwhenyouweretoldyoucouldn’tdoit?InwhatwaysdoesRachel’sown

storyshowthatit’snevertoolatetotryagain?

8. WhatcharacteristicsdoRachelandTomshowintheirendeavors—whetherit’slearningtheropesatanewbusiness,facinglife’schallenges,oradoptingastraydonkey?Whereinthe

processdotheymoststruggle,andwheredoyouseethemthrive?

9. ConsiderthemanydifferentfriendshipsRacheldescribesinthebook.Whichoneresonateswithyoumostandwhy?Ifyouweretowriteyourlifestory,whichofyourownfriendshipswouldbe

mostsignificanttoinclude?Howhaveyoulearnedfromeachotherandgrowntogether?

10. Thinkofyourownpet,eitheroneyouhavenoworabelovedonefromyourpast.Ifheorshehada“To-Do”listlikeFlash’s,whatwouldbeincludedonit?Howhasthisanimal,quirksand

all,enrichedyourlife—eitherthroughjoyorsorrow?

11. “It’ssafetosaythatFlashwelcomeschange,”Rachelsays,“justaslongasnothingisdifferentoralteredinanyway.”Howdoeshisattitudetowardchangecontrastwiththatofothersinthebook—

RachelandTom,Bridgette,evenBeau?Whoareyoupersonallymostlikeandwhy?

12. Whataresomeuniquethingsthatanimalscanteachusaboutlove?

AbouttheAuthor

WhiletolepaintingChristmasgiftsoneyear,RACHELANNERIDGEdiscoveredaloveforartandinadvertentlylaunchedanewcareer.In1999,shetookher

paintbrushesandbegancreatingmuralsandfauxfinishesintheboomingDallas–FortWortharea.Whenthesmallbusinessstartedgrowing,herhusband,Tom,joinedher.Together,theyhaveexpandedintolarge-scalecorporateart,graphicdesign,wayfinding,andcustomartwork.Alongtheway,theyhaveraised

threechildren;journeyedthroughloss,failures,andsuccesses;andadoptedastraydonkeywhoshowedupontheirdoorstepandneverleft.

Rachelbeganbloggingasameansofsharingdailyencouragementwithotherwomen.Writingabouthereffortstocreatea“softplacetoland”forherbusyfamily

madeanaturalconnectionwithanonlinecommunityofreaderswholovehergentlewisdomandhumor.Since2006,HomeSanctuary.comhasbeenherbloghome,andyoucanalsokeepupwithheratRachelAnneRidge.com.

RachelwroteforandmanagedPriscillaShirer’sblog,GoingBeyond.com,fortwoyearsandcontributesto

otherblogsonthetopicsofparenting,organization,faith,andcreativity.Sheisanengagingspeakerwholovestosharefunny,oftenpoignantstoriesthattouchtheheartandrevealGod’sloveinunexpectedways.

RachellivesinTexaswithherhusband,Tom,andnow,twodonkeys.