by Maureen on February 7, 2010
If you’ve seen the movie, The Money Pit, you know our house when we bought it. We loved it, but we didn’t know what we didn’t know.
The first weekend, the well went dry. The house is in a beautiful setting, so we had paid what to us was a small fortune to plant fairly big trees, since we didn’t want to wait years for little ones to grow.
So there we were, 9 p.m. Saturday night, locating a plumber to check the well pump. Pump was fine. The well was too shallow for the drought we were in. Throughout the night, we watered trees, waited for the well to refill, then watered again. Then, of course, we had to have a new, deeper well drilled. I’ll spare you the details of the rest of the house, but suffice to say that though the bones were good, it was of an age that everything broke.
When we moved in, we thought Jed Clampett had nothing on us. We actually had a “cement pond.” After repairing what seemed like “everything” at the house, we had a first swim. My husband swam one length of the pool. Big smile. Then he went to climb out of the pool, only to have one of the rungs of the ladder give way. And on it went.
Swimming pool in winter
Now, 10 years later, the house has had a redo, and everything works. We’ve done numerous upgrades, and we love our pool, whether swimming in it or just looking at it in winter. We took this photo the other day after our snow.
I thought how life seems to have the same trajectory our house did. People often hit a breaking point someplace in their late 40s or 50s. The original stuff isn’t working consistently and we don’t yet have the resolve, insight, or resources to move past that. Being at the breaking point isn’t fun. In fact, it’s scary. But then, bit by bit, we get on top of it, learn to work with aging equipment, and the spring returns to our step. The trick is in learning that the breaking point is a chance to rewire, to get new glasses and see the world in a fresh, albeit, different way.
It’s at this stage many people rekindle a dream of having horses, or their emphasis with horses changes. It may be less about sport and more about enjoying nature or relationships. Or less about going faster and jumping higher, and more about quality of performance. The shift is invigorating, breathing new spirit into old passions. Life becomes exciting – beyond the breaking point.
by Maureen on January 13, 2010
As I write this, I’m working through two totally separate emotions. The first is overwhelming sadness about the earthquakes in Haiti. In 1983, During the first months of 1983, I was in Haiti with the Christian Veterinary Mission. I worked as a vet tech on various animal husbandry endeavors about half my time in the countryside and the other half in Port-au-Prince. Haiti was desperately poor, and life there was difficult no matter how you looked at it.
“Overwhelmed” is the best word to use when you talk about Haiti – Overwhelming poverty, spiritual activity of the bad kind, hunger, desperate catch-22 problems. No where to start to fix things apart from the grace of God.
Yet I was so impressed with the Haitian people, their great sense of humor, their ability to not take themselves too seriously despite the dire seriousness of life.
I recall walking up a long mountain with several Haitians (Haiti is mountains and more mountains). The interpreter had gone ahead into the village. Someone asked me a question like, “What’s your last name?” or “Who’s your best friend?” Whatever the question, I answered mistakenly with the word for “donkey.” They laughed good-heartedly and brayed for hours.
When we got to the village, they asked the interpreter where I came from. They didn’t believe I was American, because Americans don’t smile as much as I did. What they didn’t know was that my non-stop smile was me gasping for breath.
I learned a lot from the Haitian people. I was offered a job in Haiti, and if I had been more heat-tolerant, I would have seriously considered it. Despite all Haiti’s problems, you “couldn’t not” love the Haitian people. And now these series of earthquakes leave those same people in overwhelming distress.
Switching gears, I’m excitedly packing for Lexington, Ky for a “visioning” meeting at Asbury College. A group of “big picture thinkers” are gathering and praying about how God is leading in the horse industry, and what our part may be. Many of you have written to me with horse ministry hopes and dreams, some of which you’ve had for many years but now feel a restlessness to pursue.
I would appreciate your prayers for this trip, and that we would hear from God on this matter. My goal is to help raise the tide that will float many boats.
And please keep Haiti in your prayers, and give to an appropriate agency that can get relief supplies where they are needed. (The Christian Veterinary Mission will use the funds right.)
Thanks for listening. Email me with any thoughts you’d like to share. Don’t forget to hug your family and your horses.
