A Horse With No Name

“I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name.
It felt good to be out of the rain.
In the desert you can remember your name,
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain.” (1971) “A Horse With No Name” (Originally entitled, “Desert Song”.) Recorded By: America Composer: Dewey Bunnell

For as long as I can remember, I have been an animal lover. I come from a long line of generations of animal folk. Sure, I have my priorities in the dear animal kingdom, dogs being #1. However. close behind the canine arena, would be horses. I’ve always loved horses. I am sorry to say, I never had the opportunity, or the means to own one, but there have been many in my family who have been, or are horse owners.

My grandmother, Opal Atherton, with one of their beloved horses.

My grandparents loved to tell of my granddad’s horse when they were dating in the mid 1930’s. I once remembered his name, but time has erased that from my noggin.

At the time, my grandmother and granddad’s families lived in the country outside Wolfe City, Texas. Granddad rode his horse to school every day on the dirt farm roads through the woods. When he arrived, he would slap his hoofed pal on the behind as he told him to go home. The horse was incredibly obedient, and trotted his way all the way back to the farmhouse. So, when my grandparents started dating, and on days when his horse wasn’t needed, he would do the same, and off he went, down the dirt road with his mane bouncing up and down with a clippity-clop all the way home. In those times, and in cowboys days of the cattle drives, a horse was man’s best friend.

I thought about those days when seeing a disturbing video from New York this past week.

Apparently, a working horse, pulling a carriage, common for the Central Park area and city blocks surrounding it, collapsed in the lane very near an intersection. The carriage driver, got angry, jumping out of the seat, he began mercilessly whipping and kicking the poor horse as the exhausted animal laid on his side after first folding his legs beneath his body like a camel. “Get up! Get up! Get up!”, shouted the driver as he continued to whip and beat him. Witnesses said the horse attempted to obey as he moved in efforts to get back up on his hooves, but failed each time. The crowd gathered as the man continued to whip and kick the downed horse. One shocked sidewalk observer shouted, “Hey, how would you like it if I started beating you like that?” Soon, many began to yell at the driver to stop his cruelty, some calling 911.

When the police and animal control arrived, they found out just why the beaten horse was down for the count. Unfortunately, the beast was malnourished, exhausted, and very dehydrated. Even his ribs were sticking out from his starvation. As the police began to comfort the horse while gently spraying water over his hurting body, the horse began an attempt to lick the water off the pavement as it ran past his mouth. However, with the bridle and steel bit remaining in his mouth, he struggled to lick the residual water. Right away, one officer quickly removed the bridle and bit from him, leaving him free to drink what they offered from the hose.

Photo: W42ST.NYC

The way this animal had been treated, I really doubt he had a name. He was obviously seen as a machine for carriage rides to make money. The last thing I read is that the city workers took him to an emergency animal clinic for treatment. I hope he can recover.

As I watched the cruelty on video, my heart sank for this once healthy creature. The vision of it also reminded me full well of how life can treat us. There always seems to be a point person which inflicts terrible personal pain as we weave and bob through our bouts in life. Or, just the scratches, bumps and bruises which paint us over time where the hard knocks occur, without a personal overzealous driver with a whip. Even government can inflict unnecessary scars during struggles. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse, but certain politicians, policies, and overnight voting sessions on a weekend under the Capitol dome, can kick the already exhausted overtaxed, citizen. Am I right?

Frankly, I feel like an exhausted horse with no name in the spiritual arena. The Apostle Paul called the Law a tough schoolmaster. Like the collapsed horse, there’s no way anyone can even keep all ten commandments, not to mention the hundreds of others dictated over the rabbinical books from antiquities. Laws show no grace, no mercy. The Torah is there to prove we can not measure up, no matter how hard we try to get back up from the fall.

The Enemy, the Adversary, has a huge whip, and spurs to go with it. The carrot offered never delivers, never satisfies, and never leaves us nourished. When Jesus came, He fulfilled the legalities which knocked us down, and with grace, tended to our wounds with balm and bindings which come from grace, kindness, and mercy. After picking us off the pavement, giving us ever-living water, tending to our brokenness and bruises, He asked us to follow Him with trust for a better road, a better place of healing, a merciful driver.

I sure hope the caring city officers gave him a new name. Someday, I’ll have one.

To find the bridle which directs to a safe haven, look no further than fuel for the race.

“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS. For My yoke is comfortable, and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:29-30 (NAS)