Hardworking Man of Faith: My Dad

Thirty years old, yet I still feel like the small little girl that once sat upon your lap. It's funny which memories stick and which slip away, but I'll never forget the way you make me feel, and that's pretty plain and simple: loved. 

I don't honestly remember ever struggling as a kid, in the sense of getting by. As a now working mom and adult, I know that that wasn't the case, but you and Mom always did such a good job of keeping money and finances on the down low--it wasn't something that was publicly talked about, even if there were years you two were unsure. I was the kid who grew up in a gorgeous house, with an indoor pool, a super amazing playhouse, and my friends still talk about all those birthday parties. Those blessings were never a small task...they were made possible because of you. One of the hardest working men I know, if something was broke, you knew how to fix it. That's still the case, after the most recent trip to your house and your grandson busting the backboard of an over-the-door basketball hoop. "Ask Pa Pa if he can fix it," I told him. The next day, that once snapped in half hoop was hanging back over the door, ready for him to hopefully NOT dunk on again :) 

I still think you have all the answers...especially on all car and house related questions. I remember driving away from the car lot with my very first car, that you helped me choose. That silver Dodge Stratus was my most prized possession for many years to come, and when I crashed her into another car freshman year of college, I remember sobbing my eyes out that 'my car was ruined.' You and mom, six hours away, were of course just worried about your daughter--but I loved that car. You two looked online and I was so stubborn about wanting another Stratus. You found a navy blue one and you DROVE it from Michigan to Kentucky, to hand me the new keys, and you flew back home. I remember you left a Sandi Patty tape in the cassette player. That day was such a picture of sacrifice to me (from Mom too, who was home caring for Nathan), and I won't ever forget it.

Nor will I forget the gas money and the "Love you, Myrtle" sticky notes, one of which is tucked inside my Bible. I should probably laminate that soon. The hot horse show days, not once winning a red or blue ribbon, but you still watching and cheering nonetheless. My first dog, Holly Lou, who you drove an hour away to get on Christmas Eve, and helped take care of the rest of her life after I moved away to college. You joke often about not wanting any more animals to care for, and though I'm not sure how my childhood cat is still alive, I know that Minnie adores you as much as I do. I also know that deep down, you really do love them---all of them, including Sean's turtle, Lily, who also refuses to pass on to animal heaven. I think animals are in my blood so strongly from both you and mom. 

Speaking of you and mom. I know the waters have not always been smooth sailing, and you two have both had to make sacrifices and ask for grace from each other, and us kids. But to me, you both are a picture of faith, redemption, and restoration. Your love for one another has surpassed many trials, and I am so thankful that you choose each other. Even and especially when it is hard. She loves you so much, and I know without a doubt that you arms are her safe haven. Your hands are her strength. And you caring, is all she really needs.

Asa once a long time ago, commented on your hands. I'll be honest and say I was caught off guard because growing up with you as my Dad, I think I took them for granted. "Your dads hands show a lifetime of service to your family," he said. "The scars and swollen knuckles, it's all such evidence of providing for all of you." I suppose that makes it all come full circle--the fact that you were able to fix and make anything; all such proof that you have always provided. I never went without, because for you, that was never an option. 

I will forever hold tightly to the memories we have. Dad and daughter breakfast dates, Christmas Eve shopping for mom, random open house viewings, Sunday restaraunt dining, no bake cookies, and our shared love of peanut butter + chocolate anything. I pray that someday, you can slow down and not have to work SO hard...and I also pray that you know how loved you are. 

You, Dad, are a hardworking man of faith. You can make us laugh out loud, and in your arms, there is strength, safety, and never ending love. Happy Father's Day, Dad. 

I love you. 

THR Thoroughbreds: A Place for Second Chances

I will never forget when I learned that my sister in law, Beth, started volunteering at a Thoroughbred Rescue. I was in complete awe that there was such a thing within driving distance of her house, and that she was working with these beautiful creatures, Thoroughbreds, on a regular basis. She would send me photos and I loved keeping up with her Instagram stories--walking out to the pasture, grooming, helping feed. She was completely living my dream! 

When she would talk to me about Kathryn, the owner, I was even more so in awe. Everything she had to say about her was inspiring, and I knew that one day, I desperately wanted to come to the Farm and meet this woman. 

Most of you know my story: that I put a hand-written letter in a stranger's mailbox, and that it (and they) later gave me the green light to add a horse to their property [where their older Arabian mare was residing alone]. My hope was to own a gentle giant, preferably a Thoroughbred, who I could love on and live out my childhood dream with. 

Beth kept telling me about this one horse that she just loved: Paddy. She told me he was so sweet and so loving, and that she had even told Kathryn that I was in the process of looking and Kathryn's response was, "Oh Paddy would be perfect!" I decided to head to Nashville for Beth's birthday get together in February, and I had previously had my heart pretty let down by a horse I thought I belonged with. I came with a guarded heart and unsure mind, and you may laugh, but I was dead set on the fact that my dream horse would be a big Bay. Enter Mr. Paddy. Very much a red headed chestnut, and he quickly tore down the walls of my on-edge spirit. I spent some of the afternoon getting to know him [some of which included cuddling his giant face as he was resting in his stall] and then, I met Kathryn. 

Right away I knew she was something special. She let me ride with her, and gave me tips on how to better ride Paddy. She quickly became someone that I knew I would learn a lot from, and I am very honored that even after Paddy has been away from her farm, she still offers advice and input when I have asked. It was and is very evident that Kathryn's heart is completely invested in ALL of these horses, and ultimately, their best interest is what she and the volunteers have in mind! 

When asked what her mission was, Kathryn said this: "...the lightbulb went off... I can save these horses, help find them loving homes, and fill the void in my heart all the while. So, The Horse Rescue was founded. It is my mission to save Thoroughbreds from slaughter, rehab them from any injuries racing may have brought, and retrain them for second careers." The Organization has GREAT and selfless volunteers, and some of these girls have even become friends through my process of inheriting Paddy. After a riding fall I had recently, they reached out in messages, offering kind words of encouragement and they gave me hope that Mr. Paddy and I would and WILL be okay--and WE ARE :) [Thank you, ladies!!! You know who you are!] 

The Rescue recently went through a name change, which makes total and perfect sense. Originally the name was "The Horse Rescue,"  but per their blog, Kathryn says, "We re very excited to announce a new division of The Horse Rescue... THR Elite Horses. While some of our horses are true rescues, others are not. The majority of our horses that come into our care are actually owner surrenders with little to no past lameness issues. We decided there needed to be a way to distinguish the "Elite Horses" from the horses who are in rehab, will be pasture or walk horses, or are retired." You can head to their blog to read more about this process, and there are even a few Elite horses up for adoption NOW! 

The work and love that Kathryn puts into these beautiful beings never ceases to amaze me. The horses have access to therapy systems such as a vibrating floor, magnetic therapy, ultrasound therapy, whirlpool therapy, etc. There is an indoor sand arena, outdoor irrigated grass riding field, an all-weather outdoor arena, 4-plank fenced paddocks for single or multiple horse turnout, and oh my gosh Y'all, the STALLS....OH, the stalls! I joke that Paddy came from the Ritz-Carlton when it came to his amazing stall! There are 7 grooming stalls, a heated wash rack, tackroom, feed room, and MILES of trails around the property. 

Here are some before and after's of horses rescued. The progress is amazing and I'm thankful to my sis in law Beth for sharing these images! 

I could go on for a VERY long time about this organization, but I hope you'll check them out for yourself. Even if you're not in the market to adopt your own horse, you can easily donate something to the Farm. Their expenses are broken down here, and it is largely because of donors that they are able to run and operate! 

"All donations are appreciated, no matter the size. Wondering what your donation can provide a horse? $10.00 provides 2 week of hay, $25.00 provides 1 month of grain, $50.00 provides 1 month of grain and hay, and $100.00 provides hay, grain, straw bedding and necessary supplies."  

Without THR Thoroughbreds and Kathryn Currey, I would not have my very own horse--a Thoroughbred at that! Paddy is a 5-year old 16.3 hand Thoroughbred, and I KNOW that together, he and I are going to do great things. I am excited to see where our adventures take us, and I am forever indebted to Kathryn for helping my dream become a reality. 

Chapter Five: I Want to Fall With You

I was inspired to write this post quite a while ago,  yet I have been sitting on it, waiting for the right words and thoughts to flow. I may or may not have been inspired for this title by the Greatest Showman and the one scene where Zac Efron and Zendaya are singing 'Rewrite the Stars.' As I listened (and that song and soundtrack has been on repeat for daysss, Y'all), those lyrics stood out and I knew I had to turn them into something: 

"All I want is to fly with you
All I want is to fall with you
So just give me all of you"

I'll be real honest with you and say that at the moment, my husband and I are in an argument. It was a late night last night, feelings were hurt, and I ended up sleeping in my son's twin sized bunk bed (the kids were sharing the Queen in Reese's room). The last thing I said to him this morning was that I needed space to think and process and since then, complete silence. It's what I asked for though, right? I decided this is a perfect time to write about the notion of flying with your partner, and yes, even falling. We all go through it, so why not talk about it? 

Fighting is the worst. If you are aware enough in the moment to think clearly, even for just a moment, you realize you aren’t going anywhere, and that you have to work all this out. The trouble is, clarity in the moment is often very hard to come by, and you might as well have a back-hoe for how quickly you can dig that hole with your words. When she asked for space to process, I finally had that moment of clarity, only after I had created what felt like the grand canyon before that moment. Everything still had to be worked out, I was coming home to her tonight, how deep had I made my hole. 

It has been a week since my horse accident. While the title "I want to fall with you" kind of makes me cringe thinking just how far I LITERALLY fell from my precious horse, I think this phrase in a marriage is gold. In December, Asa and I will reach our ten year wedding anniversary. If you had told me when I was twenty all the numerous things and life events that would happen ten years later, there's no way I would have believed you. First of all, that young twenty-year-old who walked down the aisle was incredibly naive. She knew that bad things could happen, and that sure, there would probably be some tears and fighting, and she didn't have a clue what the vows would actually mean. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health...? 

Watching Ash fall from the horse, and the moments that followed were some of the scariest of my life. Helpless and terrified were the feelings I could best describe. There was so much blood, she couldn’t move her hands, like at all. We had a very real fear that she was paralyzed. Terrified. Not at all like our wedding day. I felt calm, collected, ready. I kept waiting for fear and butterflies to come, for my feet to get cold…but they stayed warm, even in the snow and we were married. We made vows to each other, vows that we didn’t quite grasp then, and likely barely grasp now. But we made vows. Timothy Keller says when marriage gets hard we need to cling to the vows we made, vows we’re still learning to understand. 

Our first year of marriage looked like cheap Chinese takeout and Asa mowing our tiny patch of grass of a yard to knock off some money off our rent. We later stumbled through things like medical bills (did you know having babies is SO expensive????) Every year, God has been good to us and we haven't had to live in fear of not being able to pay our bills; but we definitely know what it feels like to scrap and scrounge for income. And it wasn't the first year of marriage that was the hardest (why do people even say that?!) It was the sixth. The year our sweet baby girl was born. Postpartum and Thyroiditis Ashley began to doubt everything--why did I get married so young? What if I wasn't cut out for this? Am I allowed to walk away? Imagine your husband sitting on the porch with you, dialoguing about all these questions WITH you. Processing WITH you. Standing firm and saying, "I will be here in the morning." That year ultimately ended with us getting I Choose You tattoos (our mantra for each other), and our marriage has since flourished. (Except when I sleep in a bunk bed because I am too stubborn to go back to bed with him...) Side note: get this resolved asap...

The first year was a breeze. We had no money, but we never had any before. So at least now we were broke together! It’s way more fun to be grateful for bad Chinese takeout with someone, that sit alone on the couch alone eating the same bad takeout. Money has always been an issue, and always been a means for God to show up. When I became a teacher I literally got the flu the same week. It also happened to run right into Christmas break from school. We were missing 3 weeks pay from me, and had no money for bills, food, anything. And this was after I got this salary job that was going to change our Chinese takeout status to actual date night in a restaurant status. God is funny like that, in my moment of financial achievement he reminds me how much we need him. People from our church provided for us in a way that I’m still humbled by. The real trouble came shortly after Reese was born. I’ll never presume to know how the mind of a woman works. But night after night, Ashley felt like running. She wanted to leave, or stay, or start over, or give up. Internally I was going through emotional hell, but I also knew the truth. I wasn’t going anywhere. And however this played out, I was going to have to dig out of this hole. So as hard as it was, I chose patience, I chose to sit and talk. We talked about our vows, our children, our life, the what if’s of lots of different questions. I think it was a season that brought us closer together. Somehow in the midst of this crisis, Christ shone in, and Love won.

I can remember Asa being really sick only one time so far. It was when he had the flu shortly after he was hired as a teacher. We hadn't yet begun planning or thinking about kids, and we lived in our second street apartment. I believe it was our second year of marriage? He had incredibly high fevers, a wretched and painful cough, and I've never seen him so miserable. I did my best to love and care for him, but honestly Guys, all of my memories are of sicknesses are the times he's cared for me. In sickness, and in health. He has nursed me back to health numerous times, as I am clearly the more sickly one in the relationship. I've had strep, the flu, random viruses, two babies and going through the postpartum recovery process, and now--NOW, a horse fall. I have a busted lip and a broken lady part and he has sat with me through it all. Fun fact: I recently broke down ugly girl crying after simply going pee, and then as I sobbed, told him I couldn't remember if I had taken my medications. My mind + my body have equaled one GIANT mess, and I just keep hearing those lyrics. 

I don’t get sick. I don’t mean that arrogantly. It’s just true. I was a healthy kid, and healthy still. I joke with Ashley that it’s because I drink 100+ ounces of water daily, and exercise 5 or more times a week, but I don’t really know what the reason. I do know I’m blessed to be healthy, and I don’t take that for granted. My poor wife on the other hand…when one kid sneeze I go by cold and sinus meds for Ash, because I know she’s next. The summer of 2016 was the most epically sick my family has ever been. From the moment school let out for the summer we battled Strep, stomach bugs, flu bugs, rashes, more strep, and a GI bug. When I went back to work in August I joked with my coworkers, that it was a vacation to be at school. Jokes aside, isn’t it wonderful to be needed? Not superficially, but actually physically needed. I “slept” next to my daughter and every 5-10 minutes I held her hair back with one hand and a puke pan with another. She survived the night because I made vows to my wife that carry over to my kids. And honestly, being needed is an incredible feeling. Exhaustingly incredible, but incredible none the less. 

Marriage. It definitely is not always sunshine and roses and unicorns. I'm not sure that he would picture unicorns in the equation of a happy marriage? But I'll roll the dice on that. Sometimes, we fight. We say hurful things, get a little too loud, feel all sorts of anger and resentment boil over in our insides, and coming back together unified can take a little while. There have been quite a few 'for worse' moments and memories in these nine years, but there have also been 'FOR BETTER' ones too: 
Our vacations together and the slow, quiet moments during them. Dancing in the living room, standing on the top of his feet. Laughing hysterically at quite literally the dumbest things. Building homes together, not literally building THE home, but making where we live home. Each one, each time, they've all been home. Having kids together. Watching him be a father. Praying together. Dreaming together. And even though he doesn't love to do this because he's such a hot sleeper, my husband is definitely the best Big Spoon on the planet. I never feel safer than when I am inside his arms, his arms wrapped around me--he makes me feel so small and yet so empowered when he holds me. 

Walking our dogs around St. James court, binge watching anything next to her, climbing mountains and waterfalls. Getting excited to buy a spatula in our first home. Building nurseries and filling them with babies and memories. Back porch sitting, practicing hospitality with her. Getting lost in neighborhoods, and coming up with cover stories about looking for our lost sister. Coffee and pasta. Goat cheese and sushi. Building dreams from conversations, and watching conversations come to life. Praying together. Splash parks, hikes, gardens, horses, open spaces, anywhere she's near. The quiet we can sit in, and have learned to appreciate. Sometimes the still moments near her, and the most valuable in my day.

The moral of my story? Fly with your spouse. But don't forget that while you're flying, there is going to come a moment that you are going to fall--how do you want to do that? Completely alone? Or wrapped in the arms of the one who loves and chose you?

 “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’  and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’?So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” Matthew 19:4-6

Life Lately: Get Back Up Again

From rockstar to rock bottom, let's face it, that's how I am feeling. On March 17, 2018, I was on cloud nine, after receiving the phone call that my childhood dreams were coming true: I was getting a HORSE! 

On April 14th, he arrived from Nashville TN to a stable in Louisville, KY. When he walked off that trailer, every ounce of him was trembling. It was spitting rain, kind of chilly, and as I held his lead rope guiding him through the pasture I remember thinking, "This is it. This is REALLY happening!" I had begged God to have the rain hold off that day and guess what--moments after he arrived the skies opened and all the rain cleared. I'll never forget how high I was on Cloud 9 that day. I was excited, nervous, scared, overwhelmed, a little hesitant, but mostly, in love. I was also relieved that he calmed down so quickly, adjusted super well to the mare he is living with, and in all hindsight, we had zero issues!

I had all the questions in the world but I didn't know how to spit them out. I've never done this horse ownership thing you see, and all my horsewoman friends and acquaintances seem so well polished--they are put together, calm, resilient, and just kind of badass in general. Will that ever be me? I wonder. 

Every day I've driven the 'whopping' one mile down the road to see Mr. Paddy. He has an array of nicknames: Paddy Cake, Pads, Paddington, Paddy Bear, and then, of course, just plain Paddy. Classy O'Prado (his registered name) is one giant and beautiful boy, standing at 16'3 hands tall. We've started small--me walking him around the pasture two times, one in each direction. I started to loosely drape the lead over his neck and teach him how to follow me, and quickly stop. Follow me, and turn, then stop. Follow me, slowly jog after me, stop. And for the most part, he has it down so well. When he stops and I praise him, he puts his gigantic head into my chest and blows out a deep, loving breathe.

Even on day one, I had zero fear of riding my majestic boy. I hopped on him after he had been in the field for less than an hour and slowly trotted around his pasture. I never thought it would or could be any different. I've learned just how naive I have been in this whole owner/horsemanship deal. You don't know what you don't know, right? The same goes for motherhood or any ownership of ANY new animal. How can you predict what will happen? Maybe your baby will sleep through the night and maybe they won't. Maybe they'll fall and have to get stitches--you can't predict that. Maybe your new dog will get potty training down pact right off the bat, and maybe they'll be terrors who chew every single thing in sight into shreds. Maybe your horse will be calm, well behaved, sturdy and quiet, and maybe, just maybe, he'll buck you off. 

You can't predict that.

There's one thing that I have been 100% honest from the beginning of this: I have no clue what I am doing. I thank God for Rene who has owned horses for 20+ years [the lady who owns where I am boarding], because she, honest to God, is my calm. I have gotten into a routine of feeding Paddy his grain (dinner) between 6 and 7 pm each night. Usually, before he eats, we will work on groundwork with the lead rope or I simply spend time brushing him; and then he gets his grain. There were a few days where I attempted to lunge him (again, having NO clue what I was really doing). I knew the basics, how to start and stop, how to stand (or so I thought) and how I should be positioned. I realized really quickly that he despises going clockwise on the lunge line, and one day I spent over twenty minutes trying to get him to listen. Thank GOD I found an amazing trainer who showed me what I was doing wrong, how I was confusing him (I'm so sorry, Paddy!) and it started to go SO well after that. She encouraged me to have him go a few times around, and as long as there were no temper tantrums or little fits while he worked, praise him and move on. End on a good note. Always.  

This year for Mother's Day, I made it pretty clear that I largely wanted to spend the day with Paddy. My husband packed an AMAZING and beautiful picnic, and after church, our whole family went out to the field and enjoyed the spread. Paddy even joined us periodically and stayed real close while we ate; he smelled us, snorted, and took some peppermints happily. The kids then went on to play on the swing set at the house, and I wanted to show Asa how well Paddy was doing lunging. He lunged for me at a walk and trot both directions--with no real issue whatsoever. He seemed, calm, put together, not anxious, and I had no reason to believe that he would be any different once I rode him. I knew that I didn't want to trot him...lately he has been throwing "mini fits" (I call them) with a half-buck and fast run when asked to pick up a trot. This happened a few weeks after he arrived. The first couple of weeks he trotted with zero issues, but he was starting to show signs that something had changed. I'd actually gotten so scared a little while ago when he did it and took off to one end of the pasture, I ended up sobbing atop his back, asking him WHY. He stood perfectly still while I had my mini-meltdown. (I hadn't yet met my trainer yet when that happened, but she came just a few days later). She came and worked with me, watched me ride some, and I admitted to her that I was already experiencing some deep fear riding. (How did it flood in so quickly? When in the beginning, I had none?!) She encouraged me to only do what I felt comfortable doing, so on Mother's Day, my plan was to walk him only. I wanted to show Asa the exercises she had taught me, like small circles, the pressure release with the reins he was learning, and honestly, that was it.

My husband recorded a video of me walking, I was beaming ear to ear and said, "Happy Mother's Day!!" at the camera. Split seconds later, Paddy put himself into a small trot (I should have stopped him) and I remember thinking, "Okay, just go with it." I was going to let him do a small circle when suddenly, my face smashed into his neck and I was catapulted into the air. "Please don't die," I remember thinking. For whatever reason, I put my right LEG out to stop me and landed on my tailbone and butt. As you can imagine, my brain was in warp mode. "Can I move?" I thought. "Is anything broken?" I wondered. I felt liquid come out of me from down there and wondered, "Did I just pee my pants?" I rolled onto all fours and watched the blood pour out of my mouth. I felt like I was going to black out, vomit, and then suddenly, I lost all feeling in both of my hands. I started to yell, groan actually, and I can remember snapping at Asa when he tried to touch my back. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed. I was so scared, so petrified, and so angry. I looked over slightly to see Paddy with the reins kind of loose on his neck, saddle still intact, and his head was down. Asa said he had walked into the stall to check on Addie (the mare he resides with who was being stalled), and then he had walked over to me. Pretty quickly the owners came out and checked on me, Rene prompted her husband to call 9-1-1. Within minutes, the EMT and firetruck arrived, and I was loaded onto a stretcher. My poor kids watched, wondering I'm sure if Mom would be okay, what happened, and what this meant for the rest of their day and night. Both of them were so brave and stoic, which made me weep even harder behind the closed ambulance doors. We definitely did not end on a good note this day.

Long story short and after eight hours at the ER, we discovered I ripped my perineum and needed three stitches. (The liquid after the fall was blood, I just had no idea yet.) That has happened before, in childbirth, and I remember back then thinking it was no big deal. I also was able to hold the really cute brand new babies when I got those big shots and the stitching occurred--not so much the case this time. The feeling came back to my hands shortly after being in the ER, but they did a full body CT anyway, which thank God was clear. I have a giant gash on my lip, that they literally 'forgot' to stitch up, and I am hoping that it will fully heal. I look like a monster for the time being. It has been three days and I am still experiencing slight bleeding and am in an incredible amount of pain 'down there.' The first day (Monday) I cried on and off all day. I have had moments of paralyzing fear and anger, feelings of hopelessness, and I feel very, very broken in all aspects: mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I have laughed (and cried) over the fact that this thirty-year-old is only comfortable in adult diapers because hello, this is basically like postpartum all over again.

I haven't had many falls prior to this one. I can remember one when I was a kid on the Arabian I grew up riding, and I honest to God think I MADE myself fall off because I wanted that 'cool story' behind me. Wow, Ashley...

Everyone tells me that I'll fall again. That more than likely, he will probably buck again. He is a five year old Thoroughbred, who and how can you predict WHAT will happen? Will you laugh if I tell you I NEVER THOUGHT this would happen? You don't know what you don't know. There is a LOT to figure out, and I am not allowed to ride for at least four weeks. My trainer is going to come and work with him, ride him, and we are going to brainstorm together things like a round/circular pen where he has more confinement. I am sure there are lots of factors involved here--maybe he wanted to get to Addie who was in the barn, maybe his saddle pinched him, maybe, maybe, maybe...but I can tell you how I'm feeling right now. And that's that I don't feel strong enough. 72 hours since the accident, so my emotions are probably still on high alert. But I am fearful. I don't want another ER visit (I can't AFFORD another ER visit), I don't want to be paralyzed, and I am a mom to two very young children who need their mother. 

Emotions aside, I promise myself and you this: 

I am not giving up. I am not throwing in the towel. I am not giving up on my childhood dream. I am going to pray around the clock and ask my prayer warriors to join me, that Paddy will calm down and get used to pasture riding. I will get strong again. I will not be sore forever or have a busted lip forever. I don't know when, but I will be able to walk without a limp. I will be able to do groundwork with him and lunge him. I will get back up again. Yesterday was the first time I spent over an hour with him since the accident. I fed him and brushed him, sponge bathed him and held the lead rope as he grazed. I hugged his face and scratched his ears, I kissed his nose and I told him that we WILL get there. 

Life lately? Not at all what I would have predicted a month ago, but I will rise.

**I want to say a huge thank you to EVERYONE who has helped during all of this. My sister-in-law Jana stopped what she was doing and came to the hospital on HER Mother's Day. Our kids went to our pastor's house and played with his children, and it was their mama's Mother's Day! The care packages, tips and tricks on healing, the supportive messages from the girls at the Horse Rescue Paddy came from, my parents who have prayed nonstop, co-workers who have been checking on me. But especially I have to thank my husband, Asa. He has been with me every step of the way. While I was on all four's in the pasture groaning, I yelled at him, "PRAY!" "I am!" he said. "PRAY OUT LOUD!" I yelled louder. So he did. Oh goodness the tears are starting to flood as I write...I couldn't have married a better or more Godly man. After seeing his wife launched in the air, he has assurred me that my dream is worth fighting for. Asa Glass, thank you. Just thank you.**