Letting Go of the Reins
I passed a woman in the grocery store this week who was wearing riding britches and boots. I was flooded with memories from my riding days. Riding was my passion. For a period of my life, I ate, slept and dreamt horses. It was my haven. There is this inexplicable connection between horse and rider, an unspoken language, which worked best when letting go of the reins.
Horse and rider
Dressage was my favorite discipline, although I enjoyed all the others as well. People would ask me, what is dressage, exactly? The best way I knew to explain it was to compare it to ballet on the horse; a sequence of movements that horse and rider performed together, a sort of choreographed dance.
When horse and rider are in unison, the movements seem effortless and full of grace. Horse and rider are truly one. But when the horse decides to be uncooperative or the rider too forceful or tense, what is displayed is struggle and strain.
Much is communicated to the horse through the rider’s legs, seat and reins. There is a relationship that is built over time – one of trust and reliance, one of assurance and confidence.
As memories are stirred of my riding days, I ponder this relationship between horse and rider; I contemplate this relationship between God and daughter.
Are we in unison? Are our movements effortless and full of grace? Would I describe our relationship as one of trust, reliance, assurance and confidence? Some days. Some days, not so much.
Letting go
When outside stress seems to increase, or uncertainty is on the rise, or I’m tired of waiting, I do what any rider does when they feel they are losing control – you dig in with your seat, press hard with your legs and grab hold of those reins and resist.
Often resistance is met with greater resistance. Horse and rider go head to head. It looks tense and strained. It is simply a battle of wills, each exercising their strength in hopes of overpowering. Grace and unison are disrupted.
When I encounter these head to head moments with God, I grab hold of the reins and resist. Unfortunately, our union suffers and I become tense, restless, but, God is patient and He waits for me to unclench my fisted hands. He reminds me that we cover more ground when the reins are held in supple hands, when I trust in Him.
I let go of the reins. Our sequence of movements are performed more gracefully and peace becomes more tangible. The unspoken language of understanding shared once again, and connection and union are restored.
