Unfinished

March 30th, 2018 - I turned the corner  around the side of the barn and made a beeline for the semi tractor and trailer parked alongside the barn. Reaching the front of the tractor I looked around to make sure I was alone. No one in sight. My back slid down the front of the tractor, my head fell into my hands and I wept. "How could it end this way? How could this be the last chapter of the story?" My shoulders shook, I could hardly even pray. I couldn't make sense of my jumbled thoughts much less put my thoughts into words. So I sat there and I gave my mind, my body, my emotions the permission to take their course for a few minutes. I waited for the wave of pain, brokenness, and shattered dreams to pass through me. It slowly worked it's way through every part of me and then quieted enough for me to hear again, but all I heard coming from the depths of my being was an onslaught of bewildered questions. "Why? Why would You take this away from me?! This is my heartbeat. This is what I've poured everything into for the past two years. Why is this the end, where do I go from here?" 

The conclusion of the colt starting business that me and my business partner had poured blood, sweat, and tears into for two solid years was threatening to undo me! If you have ever started a business from the ground up you understand exactly what I'm talking about here. It literally feels like you have given birth to something and breathed life into it. Watching something take shape through your hard work, through late nights, through overcoming roadblocks, through refusing to quit, develops a whole new level of grit and perseverance you didn't realize was humanly possible. This was certainly the case with our colt starting business American Heart Horsemanship! We stayed at the barn until 1am some days, riding colts in sub zero temperatures in the winter and record breaking highs in the summer. We hustled at our day jobs and then hustled for hours at the barn each afternoon and evening to make our horse business successful. In addition to the memories of immeasurable sacrifice and hard work a line of contrasting memories danced across the foreground of my mind. A particularly tough colt that was highly talented stepped into view in my mind. Smarty, a cute little sorrel that was High Brow Cat bred. I dedicated hours of work to this horse. I stuck with the groundwork way longer than I ever had on any other colt because he was telling me he wasn't ready to be rode yet. When he finally got there, when he finally showed me it was time, I couldn't have been more satisfied or proud! The first ride was beautiful! This horse went through the gaits with a smoothness and confidence that made my heart swell with joy. As expected he turned out to be one talented little son of a gun! Other images drifted softly through my mind. Taking young colts down country roads at sunset. Stepping off a colt that just wasn't seeming to get it, looping the reins over the saddle horn, and turning to walk discouraged towards the end of the arena only to feel a soft warm breath touch your arm as they chose of their own accord to follow you. Peaceful scenes of loping young colts late at night to the strains of country music flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and pushed my hands against my forehead trying to stop the constant stream of memories pouring into my mind. I couldn't take it, I couldn't do it, I didn't understand and my heart was breaking. With my eyes still squeezed shut and my heart throbbing inside my chest my thoughts paused for a moment and a soft whisper broke through my overwhelmed thoughts. "I'm not finished yet." "Not finished? What?! Come again Lord. What do You mean?" No further answer came in response to my additional questions, but I had heard undeniably the softly spoken words, "I'm not finished yet." I dried my tears and stared out across the empty cornfield to the east of Pine Ridge Stables. I knew that the Lord wasn't going to give me the answer right at that moment. I knew He was asking me to place my faith and trust in who He is. He only writes good stories. He only paints beautiful pictures. No season ends before He plans for it to. Nothing dies that He doesn't have the capacity to bring back to life in a more glorious form than before. Every door He closes He holds the key to, He can open it again. Sometimes the most beautiful display of surrender is when we choose to trust Jesus with our shattered dreams, with the closed doors in our lives, with the ending of a season we cannot understand.

Recently I was sitting at a stoplight waiting to turn onto the on ramp to the interstate. There was a truck sitting in front of me and the turn arrow was flashing yellow. The truck in front of me proceeded to turn and I could have followed right along behind assuming that there was enough clear space for both of us to make it onto the ramp, but of course I didn't. I waited, I checked for myself to make sure there was enough space for me to make it safely through the intersection onto the ramp before I made the choice to go. For some reason that insignificant moment stuck in my mind and stood out to me. Maybe because I identify with it, maybe because it's what the last 9 months of my life has looked like. In the span of a lifetime the brief pause God has asked me to take, the way He's asked me to "look twice," before proceeding through the intersection is really only a moment. We do not know what the Lord is keeping us from or doing in us in the seasons He asks us to wait in the space of our unfinished story for Him to give us the signal to go. If I had proceeded through the intersection without that brief pause to check the intersection for myself I could have ended up in an accident. We are an unfinished masterpiece. Our story has not been fully written. Every season, every pause, every closed door, every new opportunity holds a purpose that sometimes goes unseen by us until God brings it into full view. When that truck was turning I couldn't see the danger that was possibly behind it until it fully cleared the intersection. We cannot always see what God is doing until He shifts and changes things in our lives to show us what He's been up to. But in that space where the unfinished state of your story seems to be bearing down on you and threatening to crush you God is working in ways you cannot yet see.

There are still many days that I miss starting colts. Training horses is a season of life I keep asking and trusting God to bring back into full view. He holds the key, He will unlock that door when the time is right. So here I am, standing in all the beauty and mess of my unfinished story, and friends, I'm okay. I know I won't sit here forever because the story goes on, it is unfinished. I'm coming to see the truth of unfinished as what breaths life and hope into my story, and into yours too. A story that isn't finished has to go on, it has to follow all the thrilling plot twists, the devastating lows, and glorious highs that embody every good story! In the space where the unfinished hurts, where it threatens to undo you, keep holding fast to Jesus, keep hustling towards your dreams, keep listening for His whisper of direction, but also rest in the beauty and security of unfinished. Being unfinished is not the trial we sometimes perceive it to be, in reality it's the hope that the next page, the next chapter, the remainder of the story holds more than we have the capacity to begin to imagine!

Sometimes I ask God, my rock-solid God, "Why did you let me down? Why am I walking around in tears, harassed by my enemies?"

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God-- soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God.

Psalm 42:9 & 11 MSG

And yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter.We all are formed by your hand.

Isaiah 64:8 NLT