My earliest memories are of the cross-country course nibbling the tender, green grass next to my mother
‘Til one day I was shipped off separated from all I knew and loved to run mindless circuits round a dirt track on a dry, dusty prairie my legs stretching, muscles growing but my mind always drifting to the greener grasses rolling hills majestic trees open skies a wide open path space to run
With time, I matured, my muscles filled out I accepted a daily life of repetition–my training I ran every race with heart I won more than I lost I excelled beyond my own expectations I outran competitors I ran because it was in me to run
Before I knew it, I was “ready” I heard my trainer say, “she’s moving up”
My heart leapt could it be–the open course? my thoughts filled with the images of my youth carpets of endless green the sweetness of the owner’s touch upon my forelock carrots and apples from His hand
I had accepted the cruelty of my trainer I did as he directed I avoided his crop but still he expressed shallow kindness small mercies
The cruelty of his crop his unyielding weight in the saddle his careless flick of the reins his cheap grains and marginal hay I accepted as my lot I kept my head down
I’d learned to fear his hidden kicks his punitive half measures of grain He didn’t let anyone see his cruelty, our secret
I rode in the trailer blind to the road ahead I rested, trusted dreamed of my owner’s touch lush, tender grass open sky
More stunning than I remembered the owner’s barns were a palace huge stalls, wide corridors fresh, well-bedded stalls I was happy
But day after day my trainer lumbered up onto my back his body heaving and awkward he led me to the starting gate He let me start I’d sprint from the line my heart full of joy as I sprinted out then he pulled back the reins and turned me to do circles more training more blows from his crop I was losing hope of ever running in the long race the important race the owner’s race
One morning, my trainer didn’t come another brought my hay and an apple He filled my bucket with the coolest, sweetest water He brushed me and saddled me for a run but not with my work saddle with a new light-weight racing saddle it barely registered on my back
He walked me out to the starting line where many beautiful and fierce horses waited chomping at the bit pawing the loose dirt stamping their hooves impatiently
He positioned me in the far gate and left I waited nibbling tender blades of sweet grass at my feet All the horses got strangely quiet that’s when I saw Him
I couldn’t believe my eyes dressed in the finest riding gear Champion of all champions My owner–handsome, strong, confident He approached the line of horses met with a chorus of whinnies He knew each one–calling them by their names names He’d given them
I was entranced I didn’t register when he stopped beside me He tightened my cinches and adjusted my saddle I was so still–holding my breath I couldn’t imagine Him being so close touching me He reached up and scratched my neck–just under the ear
I’ll never forget what He whispered, “Are you ready to run? “Are you ready to run for Me?
I lifted my head and whinnied with delight “O Great Master, I shall run for You as none has ever run before!”
It was a beautiful day, a thrilling race My legs stretched out before me and all those years heavy saddle, hefty jockey served me well–making me strong
My Master is the sweetest rider caring, considerate, yet firm clear in His instructions
He had allowed my harsh training to prepare me for this day the day I would run for Him under His command only His words to instruct me no crop no bit just the precious Words of my master
Run! Run with endurance! Run with joy! Run because I made you to run!
I sit daily with the book of Your words holy utterance divine revelation learning of You
as I sit longer, press harder jots and tittles Masorete markings each stroke unlocks and opens secret passages ways
I’m drawn in drawn near throne room ahead
As I travel toward You I hear a low-pitch rumble a husky whisper just beyond my ambit
entering the text the rumble becomes a murmur the murmur vibrates within me
Pressing harder nearer and nearer the murmur takes on contour jots and tittles become words become construct chains, become verbal nouns prefixes and suffixes afix to verbs meaning emerges actions, pictures the murmur becomes a chant tens of thousands of voices potent unison robust truth rolling over me
I see them now Sages reciting the scriptures under their breath remembering the Ancients, praying Your promises over the sick over the wed over the children over the dead these murmurs, Your utterance these voices float toward Your throne so much incense, wafting upward toward Your heart Your heart’s murmur our hearts’ murmur thus, our hearts can beat in unison.
Teach me the ritual that runs beyond The rote of words, the flexing of the knee; Let me be always, Lord of Life, with Thee! In all my motions ready to respond To Thy unveilings, though in Scripture conned. Or in the mid-night’s insect melody, The scent of bloom from desert bush or tree, The dawn’s reflection in the blushing pond.
How shall I worship only for an hour? How think Thee present under dome and spire Or sense Thee in the wafer and the wine Except the common bread and cup are Thine, Thine shop and street, the hearth-stone and the fire, Thine all the ministries of natural power?
Rooted and Grounded 