The Trail Less-Traveled

I looked across the table at her frail frame. The smoke from her cigar curled a white trail through the air. Her heavy heart was palpable as she stared out the window at nothing in particular. The deep lines that coursed down her face gave testimony of a hard trail ridden. A year ago to the day, they had buried her son—his life taken by the effects of doctor-prescribed drugs. They had buried her daughter a short time ago too though she couldn't bring herself to give details.
 
What do you say? How do you help this broken woman? What could you possibly say to help ease her pain? I sensed the Lord telling me, "Just listen." So, this was my "action" much of the time during the following days...
 
We were in Albuquerque when we got the call—our friend needed help working in the sewer holes in a particular town in New Mexico. Huh. "OK, Lord," we prayed, "we've done a lot of things besides teaching and singing in our ministry. But working in sewer holes? You’ll need to confirm this one."

No calls came in for singing dates ... for any dates—just the looming prospect of the sewer work. We decided that the final confirmation would be the price of the horse motel where we would need to stay. We set the we-won't-go-over-this-much price and made the calls. After unsuccessful attempts to find a reasonably priced motel, we decided that this trip was a definite "no."
 
Then, one of our friends volunteered to put out the word to her rodeo group to see if they knew anyone in the area where we could stay. The word came back: "Yeah, there is one place. But the lady's pretty cranky." 

Well, in our ministry, we've handled 'cranky' pretty well, so we gave it a shot. I called her up and the price was right. She also had room for us. As we chatted, I found out she was an elderly woman and desperately needed the money. I felt a tremendous peace as I hung up the phone. If we're going to invest our money anywhere, I'm excited that we can help her out.
 
She was a bit on the crusty side, but I found from that first conversation, I liked her. We ended up coming in a week early and so, stayed at "Miss Haddie's" stable and RV park for a month and a week.
 
While Bruce spent some "iron sharpens iron" time helping our friend rebuild manholes in the sewer system, I spent most days in a smoke-filled room with my newfound friend—or trimming trees, feeding horses, and running trash to the dump for her. I discovered that in the middle of that hard shell lived a woman with a heart of gold.
 
The lingering question of "was coming here the right thing?" answered itself as I sat with Haddie, listening to her talk about her family, her joys and frustrations, her questions ... her life. I was grateful we chose to follow this "trail less-traveled." This adventure was out of the ordinary from our music ministry, but we knew we weren't supposed to be anywhere but here—for this woman and for our friend in the sewer holes.
 
We filled the role of protective neighbor as well. My phone rang about 8:00 one evening—a distressed voice meeting me on the other end. "Hey, I need you! Get over here, now!" Miss Haddie was in a panic.
"Miss Haddie, what's wrong?"
“Just get over here!" Click.
 
Phone in hand, I bolted out the door and raced for her house with Bruce hot on my heels. Looking back, I guess it wasn't too bright of us, running through a half lit stable yard toward who-knows-what—we just prayed and ran.
 
Rounding the corner of her house, we nearly careened into the man who rented the space next to us. "I don't know what's going on," he blurted out. "She's crazy!" I noticed, however, that this man's words were just a bit slurred. And, as he turned his head, I caught a whiff of the "spirit."
 
Leaving Bruce to talk to the man, I sprinted up the trailer house steps to Miss Haddie's front door.  
"Miss Haddie, it's Shara," I called through the door.
"Come in!"
I pushed the door open and nearly collided into my friend—with a pistol in her hand. She was scared and ticked off.
"Come with me," she commanded. I walked with her back out on the front porch (careful to stay clear of her pistol-hand), and we addressed the situation.
"I just wanted to borrow your ladder," the renter slurred in his defense.
"Well, you just kept bangin' on the door, yelling you were in Space 519," she retorted. "We don't have a Space 519. I didn't know who in the ___ you were!"
"Sorry, Ms. Haddie," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you."
 
Tempers cooled, and the situation was quickly resolved.
 
“You still want to borrow my ladder?" she asked.
"Yeah, but I'll get it tomorrow," he replied as he shuffled away.
 
Living at that little stable was definitely an experience. But it was well worth it. At the end of our stay, we saw Miss Haddie, a woman shrouded in depression, transform as she escaped from that spirit and joy engulfed her. And we saw our friend at the sewer holes receive crucial answers to some issues he faced.
 
Sometimes the Lord sends us to places that aren't necessarily our comfort zone—sometimes it’s more like a war zone. But we serve a very personal God Who will do whatever it takes to reach someone crying out—or to reach someone who a loved one is crying out about. (Luke 15:1-23)
 
The questions: Are we willing "to lay down our lives"—lay down what we aspire to be ... our desires and plans? Are we willing to leave the "ninety-nine" (our comfort zone) and go after the one (or two) who need the touch of God's love on the "trail less-traveled"?

"This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends”—John 15:12-13. 

 

www.ponyexpressministry.com

Shara's book: Walk Like a Warrior: Inspirational true stories of God's encouragement on the trail less-traveled: https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Like-Warrior-Inspirational-Encouragement/dp/1512774812/

 

Bison in The Badlands

"O Lord, You have searched me and known me. You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thought afar off. You comprehend my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word on my tongue, but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether. You have hedged me behind and before and laid Your hand upon me”—Psalm 139:1-5.

The sound of thunder rolled in the distance, but there was no storm. Dust swirled into the night sky, but there was no wind. We drove on through the South Dakota Badlands, waiting for the unseen phenomenon to show itself. The darkness became a light shade of tan—we caught movement on the right. Huge shapes careened down the hills and through the draws, crossing the road in front of us. Bruce hit the brakes as bison of every size and shape flicked through our headlights like an old western movie. As quickly as the stampede pounded through, it disappeared, leaving us awed and bewildered. We had truly come to a wild land.
 
Arriving at the campground very late and trying to be inconspicuous in our diesel truck, we camped at the far edge where the tent sites bordered open land—wildlife abounded, and we wanted to be right in the middle of 'em. Little did we know ...
 
We woke up to a beautiful, crisp morning—and a mysterious sound of snorting, munching, and stomping. We wanted to see wildlife, but by the sound of things we were beginning to think we had gotten a little more than we bargained for.
 
I opened the flap of our tent and stared out at a world from centuries past. Everything from the twenty-first century was erased from view—by a couple of hundred bison! They grazed everywhere and all around our tent and truck! Two little curious calves stepped cautiously toward me as I held my hand out through the opening. I tried to touch their noses, but that was a little much for them, and they scampered off.
 
We were having great fun—until their mama snorted and pushed her nose against the back of our tent. Bruce and I looked at each other and realized we could be in a precarious situation. But as she didn't seem to be interested in trampling our tent, we again turned our attention to the thrill of the scene outside our little door.
 
We heard another ominous noise and were again pulled back to another uncertain situation. A humongous bull patrolled past us, swinging his head and grunting. And with every swing, he gave us the "stink" eye. Now I've hung out with animals, wild and otherwise, my whole life. I've never been afraid, but always respectful. But when I looked in that eye, instinct told me that this bad boy meant business. Bruce and I shrunk back inside our tent and prayed that this brute would move on. After a couple of passes he finally did, as well as the rest of the herd, and we crawled out of our tent.
 
We wandered over to the information post in the campground and found abundant literature, complete with warnings, about how dangerous these animals can be. Of course we read this stuff after the fact—ignorance was definitely bliss in our case. However, as I surely pushed the limits of my ignorance, I also thanked the Lord that my battery went dead as I tried to get a picture of the bull. If the camera bulb had flashed, that guy would have really been ticked off!
 
True to our "trail" experiences, epiphanies abound with the stories, and this was no exception. God understands the "stampedes" of life that threaten to overtake us, but He protects us before we hurl headlong into the midst of the fray. Likewise, when we push ahead against sane wisdom because of momentary excitement, God's gracious hand is evident when He brings our precarious plans to an abrupt halt, saving us from ourselves.
(Psalm 91:9-12)

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https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Like-Warrior-Inspirational-Encouragement/dp/1512774812/

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Wild Horses and Storms

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble”—Psalm 46:1.

 
Wild horses! Just the thought of spotting them sent me trotting to the barn. It took me no time at all to saddle my horse, Nocona. To be quite honest, I really didn't think I'd see anything, as these horses run on about 64 million acres of Nevada Bureau of Land Management land. What are the odds of me finding them? But, hey, it was worth a shot.
 
I glanced at the sky with its gathering clouds, but figured I'd have plenty of time to quench my thirst for exploration that day. However, I tied my slicker on the back of my saddle, just in case—you never know in the backcountry.
 
Off I rode toward adventures unknown. The wind was up and so was my spirit. I felt like the proverbial kid-in-a-candy-store—so many possibilities. Topping the last hill, I caught my breath in sheer delight as I gazed at the entire high desert valley stretched out before me to the far mountains—not a soul out there but me and my horse as far as our eyes could see. I breathed deeply as the sweet smell of sage saturated the breeze.
 
We descended into the valley, absorbed in the vast beauty. Suddenly I sensed something looking at us. Slowly scanning the terrain, I saw them. A band of six jet-black wild horses calmly watched us from their hill. I could hardly contain my excitement.
 
Captivated, I spotted the stallion (a black stallion, no less) standing on the point. The breeze caught his mane and tail; they flowed softly behind him. I cried—I really did. Never in my life did I ever think I would witness this sight for real, not just in some movie. But then again, the Lord is ever so willing to give us more than we could ever ask or think and to give us the pure desires of our heart ... very cool! (Psalm 37:4) 

I could have stayed there all day with the Black Band, but the trail-less-traveled was beckoning, urging me to continue exploring this vast, wonderful land. I swung Nocona around and headed down the valley.
 
Riding the backcountry, one has to keep an eye on the trail—and another on the weather which, in this case, was becoming more unstable every minute. As I glanced toward Fred's Mountain, I noticed black clouds quickly gathering. Reluctantly, I decided to abandon my original trail ideas and head back to camp.
 
It was a good decision. With every step, the black cloud buildup was getting worse—that was on my right. To my left, huge white thunderheads formed and headed my way. If Nocona and I didn't hightail it out of there, we would be caught between both storms.
I had another decision to make: 1) take the shorter route toward the worst part of the storm and risk getting hit? Or, 2) take the longest route and hope I made it through? It wouldn't have been so bad except the boom of thunder foretold of lightning inching closer. We were up in an open valley and a prime target.
 
Did I start praying? You bet I did! "Jesus, keep us safe," I prayed, as I kept an eye on the black mass making its way over our heads.
I glanced at the sky again. Right between the mass of white thunderheads and the mass of blackness was a perfect trail of blue. Surprisingly, it pointed toward the longer route. I made my decision, threw on my slicker, and urged Nocona into a long trot, following that trail in the sky.
 
As serious as this situation was, I had to laugh. Looking up toward the "wild horse ridge," I spotted the herd watching us as Nocona and I hightailed it up their valley. What was going through their minds?

Trotting and loping, dodging sagebrush and cactus, we sailed off the ridge and raced across the valley floor. My slicker snapped in the air behind me as the wind grabbed it. My hat strained against its stampede string as it threatened to fly off my head, and I threw my hand up, pushing it down to my ears. My other hand grasped the bridle reins with a white-knuckled grip.
 
Urgent prayers went up again as we headed into open country, and I watched the lightning streaks flash to the ground. Suddenly I witnessed a miracle. The wind blasted toward us, but the black clouds moved away from us! As I prayed, the Lord spoke to my spirit, "I am bigger than the storm." Awed and encouraged, I swung Nocona toward our rig parked in the middle of the valley.
 
As we galloped toward camp, I glanced at Fred's Mountain—another set of storm clouds tried to make their way over the summit. I realized in amazement that some unseen force restrained them—another miracle.
 
At last we slid safely into camp and underneath the barn overhang. Only then were the clouds released. The downpour on the tin roof was deafening, but we were safe. And I thanked God for His goodness. 
(Psalm 91:14-15; Hebrews 1:7)

www.ponyexpressministry.com

Walk Like a Warrior: Inspirational True Stories of God's Encouragement on the Trail Less-Traveled is available in paperback and eBook: https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Like-Warrior-Inspirational-Encouragement/dp/1512774812

Trust for the Trail

I focused on the path in front of us and kept my seat centered as my horse Nocona and I rode along the narrow trail. The steep mountainside rose above us, and Nocona’s hooves ambled inches from the plummeting precipice falling away. As his hoof sunk into a soft part of the trail, the distinctive click of a loosed pebble made my heart skip a beat as the stone bounced off the side, sailing off into space.

Trust. I was grateful for the many hours spent hanging out with my horse. That bond of trust and love developed over time, throughout the years. We ride trails like these only because of that friendship and bond. I know his character and he knows mine.

Building the Relationship

It started out small. When Nocona was a colt, our first encounter involved putting a halter and lead rope on him—he’d never seen either. This was a must as I needed to load him in the trailer to take him to the ranch. On a hot, humid Texas morning, I watched him as he stared wide-eyed at me. Sweat trickled down my face as I spoke softly to him. His ears flicked, and he slowly dropped his head and relaxed. Our relationship began.

Trust is synonymous with relationship. You can’t truly trust someone you don’t know. I had spent years as a Christian, but not fully trusting the One I claimed allegiance to. When adverse circumstances ambushed me, I realized the hard way that my relationship with Jesus was sorely in need of maintenance. I found myself floundering, my foot searching for the solidness of the Rock. (Matthew 7:24-25)

In desperation, I looked for Him. He was already watching me. In that ever-so-loving still, small voice, His Holy Spirit prompted me to start at square two (I was  already firmly planted on square one, having accepted Jesus as my Savior). He gently guided me to read Jesus’ words, written in red. As I studied every word, an amazing picture formed—God’s strong, open arms in unconditional love. As I read about His kind, solid character, I relaxed. And a real relationship began. I found a personal God who loves us all dearly and wants to take us to heights we have never known—heights that may make our heart pound, but have beautiful, breathtaking views.

A Love That Longs for Trust

In the beginning Nocona was a feisty one, but I never gave up. I slipped my hand around his neck and slid the halter over his nose, around his ears, and buckled it. It was a foreign concept to him, and he bolted. I stayed with him, letting him test the lead rope, all the while continuing to speak softly to him, reassuring him that all was well and I would not hurt him. We continued building on our relationship from that solid foundation. (Proverbs 3:5)

I suppose some schools of thought would have suggested I lasso him and then “show him who’s boss.” But what good would that have done? I would have created a relationship where he only obeyed me because he had to, or worse yet, feared me. It would have been a life of slavery for him and a chore for me.

Many times the Holy Spirit revealed His wisdom, but because it was foreign to me, I bolted. But He stuck with me, eventually earning my trust and moving me further toward my destiny in Him. (Psalm 73:28—But it is good for me to draw near to God; I have put my trust in the Lord God that I may declare all Your works.)

The Acid Test

Life can be a trail of unknowns. The acid test of our trust is what we do when confronted with one of life’s unforeseen surprises. Fear of the unknown (the “what ifs”) can easily keep us from fully enjoying life. Courage is required to take the leap of faith, believing God’s Word is truth.

While riding the trail, scary things tend to “jump out” of the bushes:  A rattlesnake angrily buzzed his tail, warning us that we were in his self-proclaimed territory; A mountain lion dashed across the road ahead, chasing a herd of deer. Nocona stood his ground and just flicked an ear, all the while listening for my instruction.

In this fast-paced, don’t-have-time-to-breathe society, listening has become an antiquity. But it’s a must to develop that solid trust. In life, circumstances will shoot out of nowhere, putting us in a position of decision. Do we run? faint in fear? or stand our ground on that solid relationship we meticulously built in the peaceful times? We might “flick an ear” at the scary thing, but immediately flick it back toward the One with the instruction on what we need to do with that thing. (Proverbs 1:33—“But whoever listens to Me will live in safety and be at ease, without fear of harm.”)

Trust That Continues to Strengthen

As with any relationship, there is constant adjustment and tuning-up. Though it is built on a solid foundation, maintenance will always be an ongoing process. Even the apostle Paul was in constant growth and learning: Philippians 3:12—“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.”

Just like Paul, I haven’t “arrived” yet. I’ve learned my relationship with the Lord requires forward motion. There are always new things to learn about myself and Him, along with old things maybe I’ve forgotten and need to remember again. I’ve come to realize that a trust-building relationship is a step-by-step, day-by-day process. But it’s an exciting one. It’s a process full of adventure, offering hope as I discover the depth of God’s character and His love. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

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My prayer is that you are encouraged as you enjoy the many photographs and travel this trail with us, living the adventures!

Happy reading! 😃

Walk Like a Warrior: Inspirational True Stories of God's Encouragement on the Trail Less-Traveled is released!

   At long last, Walk Like a Warrior: Inspirational True Stories of God’s Encouragement on the Trail Less-Traveled has finally been re-released! Whooohooo!
   In life’s challenges, do you search for the testimonies of others that could encourage you in your journey? I know I do. And that is one of the reasons I wrote this book—to encourage others. And, to keep my own testimonies fresh in my mind as a reminder of God’s faithfulness and kindness in my own journey. 
   Walk Like a Warrior reads like a Chicken Soup for the Soul-type devotional of our road stories, growin’ up stories, and stories of others … with loads of photos!
   Check out this award-winning book at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the WestBow Press bookstore (available in print and eBook versions).
   Come on, join us on the trail, live the adventures, and be encouraged!

https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Like-Warrior-Inspirational-Encouragement-ebook/dp/B071SFQP2T

www.ponyexpressministry.com

Concert in the Cookhouse

I stomped the cold from my feet and rubbed my hands together, feeling warmth creep into them. Fog billowed from my breath and from my horse’s nose. I put my foot in the stirrup and swung my leg over the saddle. “Yow, that’s cold!” I squeaked as I sat in the seat—at 7:00 in the morning the temperature hadn’t risen out of the teens.

My husband, Bruce and I were invited to this fall roundup by our friend Bo, a seasoned buckaroo (Nevada lingo for cowboy). Hundreds of cattle grazed across thousands of acres in the rugged, unforgiving mountains of northern Nevada. Several volunteers, stockholders, and hired buckaroos worked together to gather these cattle for shipment to their winter feeding grounds.

Bruce and I sing Christian Country music and travel full-time on the road with our two  horses. God had given us this awesome opportunity to ride with these folks, and we jumped at the chance. However, he saw an even bigger picture than merely volunteering to help with the cows.

                                      No Wimping Out

Saddles creaked and horses champed their bits as we waited for the foreman to assign groups of riders their sections of land. The goal was to drive or "sweep" the cattle from the high country and meet at the bottom pasturelands at the same time … or nearly. Most of these cows are as wild as the country they run in, and this type of gathering keeps them moving forward. 

While gazing across the haphazard landscape, I was grateful for the instruction we had received from Bo about the cattle and country. I realized we were living examples of Hebrews 10:24-25: “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds … encouraging one another.“ Bruce and I were strangers to this place, but the Lord had prepared us for this job through Bo. Receiving our section assignment, we spread out to cover our area.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!” Philippians 4:13 flew from my mouth as my horse and I plunged down the side of a steep draw to gather cattle at the bottom. At the same time, “Whoohooohoooohoooo!” echoed across the mountains as the buckaroos revealed their location. I urged my horse around the cattle and drove my mini-herd through the small canyon.

We rode narrow mountainside trails that appeared to be carved by a goat and skirted bogs and boulders to keep the herd tight. I picked grit out of my teeth and blew a breath of relief when I saw Bo with his cows at the meeting point. We joined Bruce farther down the mountain.

                                         No Offense Taken 

Bruce and I have learned that the opportunities the Lord gives us are not just to minister to others. Opportunities also arise to knock the bark off us.           

“You’re late!” bellowed the foreman as he raced by us on his horse. Startled, Bruce spun around in his saddle and stared after him as he thundered past and disappeared down the prairie.

We knew there had been some confusion concerning the instructions of the day, but it appeared we were blamed for something out of our control. Our blood boiled. Angry words churned inside us: “How dare he!”; “It’s not our fault!” We rode in an indignant fog for about a mile. Then, like cold water on a hot flame, the Holy Spirit’s still, small voice impressed, “Let it go.”

We realized it was foolish for us to ride in offense, recognizing Satan’s temptation to tear down the relationships we had already built. Swallowing our pricked pride, we decided not to take the bait and continued our search for the cows in our section.

                                     The Bigger Picture

It was a good thing we let it go. Later that day the bigger picture unfolded—a stockholder asked Bruce and me if we would give a concert in their cookhouse.

The next evening as we set up our sound system next to the kitchen counter, we thanked the Lord that we had overcome the challenges from the previous days. When you ride in someone else’s world, you either earn their respect or you don’t. This was the ultimate reason God sent us here.

One by one, the entire crew filed into the warm cookhouse while the smell of fresh coffee and homemade cookies drifted through the air. They took their places at the picnic-style tables or lounge chairs along the wall. One old cowboy even relaxed in his own recliner.

We began with a lively hymn medley and continued through a list of songs as the Holy Spirit led. The demeanor of the more hardened ranch hands softened, their toes tapping to the beat. One rambunctious buckaroo had wanted us to sing one of his favorite country songs as we rode with him through the aspens the previous day. We didn’t know the song but, when the concert was scheduled, we determined to learn it. We sang it that night and dedicated it to him. He couldn’t believe it. His eyes brightened, and his heart opened to God’s message in the other songs we sang.

We watched in awe as the Holy Spirit moved through that bunch. Alcohol was passed from one to another, but one by one, weather-worn hands waved it away. We hadn’t said a thing—we just sang.

We intended to end the concert within an hour to respect the crew’s early morning call, but they didn’t care a bit about hitting their bunks early. Their stomping, clapping and laughter rocked the cookhouse. And by the time we wrapped up the hour with what we thought was our final song, shouts of  “Encore! Encore!” resounded around the room—even the rougher ones were giving us the thumbs up.

A buckaroo’s girlfriend slowly raised her hand. “Can you sing 'Amazing Grace'?” she requested.
“Absolutely,” we replied, as others nodded in agreement.

As the words and melody wound through the crowd, the peace of the Holy Spirit wrapped around troubled souls like a warm comforter. Tears streamed down faces; eyes stared off in deep thought; heads bowed, some nodded.  God’s grace and power were palpable in that old building.

We finished the last song, and no one wanted to leave. Groups of two and three gathered here and there talking, laughing, eating cookies, and sipping coffee.

The ranch foreman hailed us as we loaded our sound system and music gear into our truck. “Thank you,” he said. “We needed this. It gets really tense here around this time.” He smiled. “And, hey, you can ride with us anytime, and you’re more than welcome to sing here next year too.”

We are honored to answer God’s call to face the challenging tasks that introduce us to the ones living along the trails less-traveled. No one is too far from God’s gracious hand. As Acts 13:47 encourages: "For this is what the Lord has commanded us: ’I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth.'” We pray that those stockholders, buckaroos, and volunteers never forget the love of God they experienced in that old 1800s cookhouse on a lonely road of Nevada’s high plains. 

 

 www.ponyexpressministry.com

*Exciting announcement!* Walk Like a Warrior: Inspirational True Stories of God's Encouragement on the Trail Less-Traveled is now available in print and Kindle editions through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the WestBow Press bookstore. 

https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Like-Warrior-Inspirational-Encouragement-ebook/dp/B071SFQP2T/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1496082052&sr=8-1&keywords=walk+like+a+warrior+book