The Lord is my rock, my fortress
and my deliverer,
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and my horn
of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call to the Lord, who is worthy of
I never was a good horseman. The saddle horn was my best friend.
One day riding with my papaw, we turned the corner heading to the house, and the horses got very excited. They knew this was the last leg of the day. This was the race to the finish line /barn. My grandfather’s horse did not like to lose. And my horse didn’t want to let him win.
Papaw’s hat flew off as he and Tony took the lead; his voice trailed off…”Hold on!”
I held on tight. It was all I could do. Bert (my horse’s name) was not about to listen to a word I had to say.
It was a thrill. A scary one–but a thrill all the same. Tony won the race, and Bert was close behind. They obediently stopped once inside the breezeway of the old red barn.
It’s one of my favorite memories.
Sometimes life is like that. Sometimes it takes off in a direction or speed you don’t want it to go, and you just have to hold on. Hold on tight.
God is our saddle horn.