I love my cowboy boots, there has been a pair of boots in my life ever since I was nine and started taking horseback riding lessons. They were black size 6 lacers (meaning they laced up the front). I wore those boots so much that the leather stretched till my feet were at least a size 8. I lived in my cowboy boots they made me feel complete, strong, and ready. They were this piece of equipment that had been so perfectly worn in. The leather was soft and supple from the hours of wear; my feet would slide into them so seamlessly as if they were custom made for me. The most important thing about my cowboy boots is each one tells a story. One Christmas as I unwrapped full calf, 9 ½ leather Ariat boots, I screamed. I thought I had finally arrived when I upgraded from plastic boots to LEATHER. I remember how painful it was to break them in, but when that was done, how strong and confident I felt riding in those boots. Then there are my orange boots, that I traveled around the nation to horse judging contest and won national titles. Those were the same boots I was wearing the day I took Simon home.
The past 16 years boots have been an integral part of my story. They were always packed for every adventure, but not this one. My boots, the ones that feel like home. The ones that help me stand a little taller, feel a little bit more prepare, the ones that make me feel like me are not coming! Because the truth is God has taught me a thousand of wonderful lessons in those boots, but now it’s time to step out of them. Why? I can only suspect that there are lessons that I need to learn without the crutch of the barn, my horse, and my boots. I have come to a point in my life where I have felt directed to give up the one thing I was scared the most to give up if the Lord as me to. It happened and Simon has moved on and the reality is the barn is no longer a daily part of my life and it won’t be for the next year!
I’ve continually had to asked God for the purpose of this time. What am I supposing to learn from crying over the boots I wore when I was given my best friend?!?!. When I hold a salt block that I will never use!! When I wrap myself in my horse’s blanket and cry because I miss him so terribly. As I’ve asked my self a dozen time, “Do you regret selling your horse?” and the answer is always NO. You know why? Because I love Jesus more than I love riding/the barn/showing/ Simon/ my boots. I love Him more and I’m just speculating at this point, but I suspect that I need to set aside the wants and desires of my heart, so that I may more clearly see the wants and desires of my Lord’s heart. That I must step outside my cowboy boots to grow in new ways, because in this moments the lessons learned in cowboy boots have come to a pause. They will not be a part of this journey. As I reluctantly leave them behind, I know that sometimes we must die to our self, our expectations, our dreams, and our plans, to honor the Lord.
