Fire Away!

Well… I was trying to be helpful.

It was a beautiful mountain morning as Bruce and I, two teenage girls, and our new friend hit the hill-trails with the expectancy of an excellent ride.

We hadn’t traveled far, when our friend started having trouble with her mare, a young draft horse cross. The mare was cranky so my friend dismounted to walk her for a bit. She led the horse along the trail and through the stream as the mare continued her antics.

We finally came to the short, but steep narrow part of the trail that shot up from the creek bottom to the top edge of the meadow. I knew that it would be difficult, at best, to lead a horse up this path. I offered to pony the mare from my horse.

She gratefully accepted, and I moved Nocona closer as she handed me the lead rope. I no sooner gripped the rope when the mare lunged forward. I tried to pull her back and around but that mare already had her plan of action figured out—and it was on. I remember seeing two huge freshly shod hooves fly at Nocona and me. She missed but, quick as lightning, regrouped and fired off another shot like a Gatling gun. I felt the smack as her hoof landed on my ankle and heard the thud as her other hoof landed on Nocona’s flank.

I vaguely heard a “let her go!”, but was already releasing the rope of that wild-eyed whirlwind as I swung Nocona away from her—but not after she cranked off another one and buried her final blow in Nocona’s stifle.

Immediately my friend was at my side bursting with profuse apologies. But her voice faded as I blocked out everything around me. I lowered my hand to Nocona’s flank and prayed, “No weapon formed against us will prosper, no evil will befall us, no plague will come near us!”—quoting Isaiah 54 & Psalm 91. I didn’t know who heard me and didn’t much care, my first thought was my horse.
 
Powerful testimonies pepper my experiences when the Word of God is spoken over situations and the miracles spring forth. As I prayed (albeit with heart pounding), Nocona slowly relaxed his leg and put weight on it. At that point, I noticed the intense throbbing in my ankle. I went to praying over it too. 

I pulled my attention back to Nocona and walked him back and forth across the clearing—he was solid. I reined him toward the steep incline—the real test. “Let’s do this, Nocona,” I grinned. He sailed up that trail with no problem. Praise God.

When we reached the top, the teenagers stared, wide-eyed, at us. “Are you OK?” “What happened?” they blurted. And, frankly, beyond me telling them, “We’re good,” I have no idea what I said after that, distracted by the stabbing pain in my ankle. I smiled through gritted teeth and headed for Bruce, who was also staring at me intensely. 

“How is he?” Bruce asked.
“He’s fine. But we need to pray over my leg,” I whispered. (My friend felt bad enough that her horse had kicked mine, and there was no way I was going to let her know that her mare had nailed me too.)

So, while the rest of the group got horses and riders reorganized, Bruce and I prayed over my ankle. He commanded healing to come and the pain to go in Jesus’ Name.

I moved my ankle around. “Pray again,” I said. He did.

“Are we ready?” our friend called out.
“Yep,” we answered. Nocona and I ended up leading the pack and he stepped out like nothing had happened. And as we rode out, I felt a kind of warm sensation in my ankle, with tinglies. The pain left… just like that.

Four and a half hours later, we finished the ride—no lameness in Nocona or me.

With all my stories, of course, there’s always some kind of epiphany or moral… a lesson to be learned somewhere. So, first off, I learned to not be so quick to offer help to someone, even a friend, with their cranky horse. Secondly, go for the prayer first. Sometimes there’s no time to think, just do it. The Word of God is definitely a two-edged sword and we need to wield it like a weapon… ‘cause it is. And you can’t beat the power in Jesus’ Name!

My ankle should have been broken, and Nocona could have been seriously hurt, but we were fine and finished a ride that turned out to be a very enjoyable one, indeed.

“Because he has loved Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him securely on high, because he has known My name. He will call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. With a long life I will satisfy him and let him see My salvation.” (Psalm 91:14-16)

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/

Opportunities

 While scouting for a much needed truck, my husband Bruce and I have been privileged to hang around our home base and help family. One of these awesome opportunities came in the form of babysitting our little cousins over the summer as well as spot appearances in the fall and winter. It was a tad challenging from time to time as these kids live in a pretty tore up family life, so there were attitude adjustments here and there and yes, a lot of prayer. But, all in all, we had a blast together and developed a solid bond.

As I babysat these kids (six-year-old twins (boy and girl) and a nine-year-old autistic boy), I prayed for opportunities to introduce them to Jesus. We all need Him. But these guys needed a little extra dose. My heart was to show them how kind and mighty He is. That He is approachable, and He would help them if they were in trouble.

A variety of opportunities presented themselves throughout our time together—some profound, others more subtle, but every one important. Sometimes I got distracted and missed it, but those times just made me more determined to be quicker when the next opportunity came. With fervent prayers for wisdom, the Lord helped me field Creation, heaven and death questions; He helped me build on their grandparents’ foundation of praying over meals; And on one particular morning, He prompted me to take action and step out in faith.

That morning I walked in my aunt’s door for “work” and into a challenge. One of the twins was sick and “it” was coming out both ends. When things calmed down a bit, my aunt settled him on the couch with a trash can next to his head. She left for work, and I prayed for wisdom.

I watched his curled up form and couldn’t bear observing his misery. I knew right then that I needed to pray for him. I looked around at his twin sister, concern shadowing her face.

“You know what?” I told her. “We’re going to pray for Dax so he feels better.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“Come on,” I coaxed as I reached out my hand to her. “We can pray together.”
She crept forward with a skeptical expression, but she was game.
I held her hand and placed my other hand on Dax’s head. “Jesus, please make Dax feel better. Thank You, Jesus, for healing Dax. In Jesus Name, Amen.”

Dax relaxed, and Mila and I dug out the crayons and busied ourselves with masterpieces.

Dax used the trash can a couple more times, and then, in typical shy-Dax style, an arm emerged above the couch, fanning back and forth. I grinned: Dax’s unique “feel better” flag. Within the hour, he was up playing with his dinosaurs and Transformers.

Now, we were in full play mode…all of us. I cleared off the chest (a.k.a. the coffee table) to make room for horse corrals and a road for the truck and trailer. Tiny Transformer toys that scattered the chest top got tossed in my wellies (rubber rain boots) to keep them off the floor.

Mila and I corralled horses as Dax performed fly-bys with his Transformer fighter jets. Suddenly, a swift movement out the window caught my attention—a flash of flea-bitten gray. Oh, man! Somehow the ranch horse escaped from his pen and was having a high-time of it running around the yard!

Knowing the gate was open at the top of the driveway, I flew into action…and, yes, prayed again. I grabbed my wellies and stared into their uppers…brimming with Transformers. I promptly dumped them on the floor, jammed the boots on my feet, and slung on my coat and hat as I headed for the door.

As I hit the top of the landing, I saw the gray horse with his head buried in a feed bucket on the tie rail. Not knowing this horse, I quietly moved down the steps. He moved off toward a patch of grass. I had an idea. It was a ways up the lane to the open gate, and the horse seemed to have no interest in running off. I grabbed the bucket and slapped the side of it as I headed into the horse pen. Thankfully, the horse took an interest, and I safely lured him inside and secured the gate.

As I turned toward the house, I noticed I’d picked up two tails—both twins had bolted out the door, hot on my heels. I grinned as I observed Dax and gave a hearty “Thank You, Jesus.” I watched him run around like a penned up pooch that had won his freedom. He scooted across the yard with his hands shoved in his sweatshirt pockets, dancing from side to side.Then he took off to the ant pile to see if he could find any dead ants (frozen by the frigid temperatures).

He showed no signs of slowing down. Part of me wanted to stop him for fear, since he had just been sick, that he would relapse. And then the thought came, “Whoever Jesus heals, is healed…period.” So, I kicked that fear out of my mind and let him rip.

I’m thankful for the God-given courage to step out and take advantage of opportunities that not only put feet to my faith, but also showed these kids by example, the love of Jesus. 

We will not hide them from their children, telling to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and His strength and His wonderful works that He has done—Psalm 78:4.

 

www.ponyexpressministry.com

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

Power of the Sword

 

"For the word of God is living and powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart”—Hebrews 4:12.  

My insides lurched as I clenched the receiver, trying to wrap my mind around my brother's words on the other end of the line.

"Dad's pretty ill, Shara," my brother said. "He's been diagnosed with a debilitating disease that affects the muscles in his eyes and throat. The condition could be life-threatening. The doctors gave him some medication they hope will work, but his speech is already severely impaired." He paused. "It doesn't look good."

I called my parents’ house and talked to my Mom. While on the phone, my dad suddenly motioned to her to call 9-1-1. That was only the beginning.

The year was 2006 and everything we considered normal life abruptly came to a stand-still. Leaving Bruce to "hold down the fort" in Texas—tending to our horses and music ministry—I flew to California. In one phone call, I had suddenly become the foreman, secretary, and bookkeeper in my dad's construction business, as well as a caregiver when he was at home.

My plan to stay a week and a half turned into two months. My dad would get treated at the hospital, then be released. All would seem to be going well and then a few days later, I'd either be calling the ambulance or rushing him to the hospital myself. I finally quit booking flights home because I kept having to cancel them.

I needed help beyond the physical. I needed God Himself to show up in a big way.

Sitting in the emergency room once again, I stared motionless at the scene around me: Doctors and nurses hurried from one section to another; A gunshot victim groaned through the partition on one side; And there was some sort of unidentifiable commotion on the other. I looked over at my 75-year-old dad—a very resilient man—whom I had only seen really ill probably once in my entire life. It was nearly unbearable to see him in a hospital bed with a bunch of tubes hooked to him. I choked back the tears and tried to stay strong. What was going to happen? The tightening sensation of fear threatened to suffocate me. I felt so alone, so vulnerable. All the Bible verses and sermons I had heard went straight out the window—I remembered none of them. At that moment, all I could say was "Jesus, help me."

A "still, small voice" stirred within me, "Didn't you bring your Bible?" I reached for my bag and yes, there it was. Blinded by the fear that gripped me, I never saw the tabs and bookmarks that revealed my favorite verses. I just opened my Bible and numbly, randomly started flipping. On my second "flip" it opened, miraculously, to 1 Corinthians 2:5: "that your faith should not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God." Encouraged, I flipped one more time and again, miraculously, the pages fell open to 2 Corinthians 5:7: "for we walk by faith, not by sight." The Lord knew I would need these two verses that night and throughout the entire two months. I grabbed a hold of them with a white-knuckled grip.

His Presence in the emergency room jarred me loose from the paralyzing grasp of fear. His encouragement caused me to reach for Him through His Word, giving me hope even through distressing doctors’ reports and procedures; the stress of running a construction company; and other unthinkable situations that tested me during that time.

God's Word saved me and in turn, saved my dad.
 
It happened one night as I was sitting with him in his hospital room. Suddenly, for no reason, his blood pressure shot up into the danger zone. The Lord’s urgency spurred my heart as He told me to start reading His Word—out loud! I grabbed my Bible.

By this time, my dad's face was beet-red. I looked at his face, looked up at his patient monitor, looked down at my Bible, and started reading. As I read, a nurse came in with a shot. Lord, no! Please, no more medications for my dad! Now, I have no medical training whatsoever, but I sensed in my spirit that shot was the wrong thing to do. I was close to panicking as the nurse stood there with the needle poised. All I could do was sit there, read, and pray. Curiously, though, the nurse wasn't moving. She quietly watched the monitor, and I kept reading the Word. As suddenly as his blood pressure rose, it dropped. I stared in amazement as my dad recovered and he was safe. The nurse, visibly relieved, said, "Good, I really didn't want to give him this," and walked out of the room.

Later in the evening, I found her at the nurses’ station and asked her what had happened. She confirmed there was no explanation as to why my dad's blood pressure sky-rocketed. And then added thoughtfully, "I heard you reading the Bible when I walked in."
"Yeah, I just felt I needed to," I replied.
"Well, I’m quite sure that is why your dad's blood pressure came down."

She then shared something with me I will never forget. "In all the years I have worked at this hospital," she said, "I have seen powerful things happen when the Word of God is read to patients. In fact, I have seen a marked difference between the patients who have the Word read to them and the ones who don't."

Wow. The Word of God, as it proclaims, is life.

From then on, I read to my dad every day without fail. I knew for a fact now that God's Word spoken out loud was a powerful force. Sometimes he was awake, sometimes he was asleep. But I continued to read, if only in a whisper, putting his name in all the personal spots of the verses: "John Bueler, Sr. will live and not die"—Psalm 118:17; "No weapon formed against John Bueler, Sr. will prosper"—Isaiah 54:17, etc. (Hebrews 4:12-16; Psalm 119:50; Isaiah 55:11)

Today, my dad is recovering very well. In fact, his doctor says, "He's a miracle." She called the Mayo Clinic and other medical facilities that have dealt with this disease, and my dad is the first person they have ever heard of who has recovered this quickly ... if at all.

Praise God! "Don't rest on the wisdom of men, but the power of God,” and "walk by faith (in Him), not by sight"!
(Isaiah 53:5; Romans 15:13; Ephesians 6:10-18)

This year (2017) my dad turned 86. Not to say he hasn’t had any more challenges in various things (don’t we all?—life’s a journey). But the one thing that never fails in facing these challenges is the Word of God; The action that wields that Sword is believing the promises He gave. Through a most recent challenge, we all were in fervent prayer … and in the Word, running to our only source of Life. And God spoke: “Do not be afraid of sudden fear”; “Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place; “You will not be ashamed” … and we weren’t.

www.ponyexpressministry.com

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