By Kathleen Gibson
“I think I’ll get a horse,” I’ve told a few friends recently (tongue in cheek). “At least a horse would be reliable.” Snickers meet that comment, especially since everyone understands that horses can’t live in an attached garage. In the city. In a yard with about five minutes worth of grazing grass. And only a four-foot fence.
I understand their chuckles. But our vehicle has proved untrustworthy too many times lately. I’m tired of calling CAA and our mechanic shop.
Of course, I’d need some education. “How to house, care for and ride a horse—for Dummies.” That should do it. And we’d need to figure out how the Preacher, unable to climb stairs, would clamber onto the saddle—and get off again. (Though regarding any elevation change, he jokes, “Going up is difficult, but getting down is easy. I just fall.” And since his falls have happened far too frequently lately, I guess we won’t be getting a horse.)
We needed a tow truck again a few days before I’m writing this. Every dash light possible came on during my city drive. When I parked a bare minute later, it lost power completely. I shuddered to think what may have happened had it died while driving on the highway. Apparently our model of van has that (previously unknown to us) habit.
A strange incident occurred at a rail station in Australia awhile back. During a heavy rainstorm a horse rushed through the entry gate from the parking lot. For about five minutes, the animal paced back and forth on the platform as though waiting for the train. “As the train approached, the patient horse seemed as if it might canter up and board the train,” the news reported. Seeming too nervous to step into a car, it finally resumed pacing. Eventually, someone led it out of the station, where it calmly boarded a horse trailer.
The creature got his own tow home that day—a comical confirmation to me that a horse may not be the answer to our own transportation problem.
Strangely, on the way to our appointment the morning of our most recent van trouble, we’d discussed how few accidents we’ve had during our fifty-year marriage, while driving mainly older used cars. “God has spared us so often,” we agreed. “Remember when the front driver side wheel popped off while I was driving, and went travelling on its own?” Spared again. Travelling mercies, we call that.
Before almost every trip, our prayer is that God will protect us. So far, he has answered “yes,” to that prayer. But we are conscious that both vehicles and horses can fail. So, as the Psalmist wrote, (20:7) “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.” We do too.
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Kathleen Gibson