Smells Like Thursday

Southbound on 37, the sun rising on one side, the stars still piercing the windshield on the other and I pop the lid off. The steam rolls over my face and the smell fills me up like a warm soup. Coffee tastes better on Thursday. And for some reason the smell hit me square in the sniffer.

It didn't stop there. The entire day was filled with it. Have you ever smelled a yearling foals breath - strangely fresh, and it almost speaks to you. Or, Durasect? Most of you won't know that it's a biting-fly and tick repellent for cattle and horses. The smell is, well, unique to say the least.

And horse hide. It's like a babies skin. It smells the same every time. You can't describe it, because it only smells like it smells. Nothing compares.

The afternoon found us in the bottom of the Medio Creek.

Water Gaps.

Rain is good. But they are always followed by a good dose of water gap fixing. As the business end of an ax meets the top of a steel post, plenty of heat is generated. Maybe it's the heat. Or maybe it's just the t-post letting the ground protest our unceasing drive to have everything our way. In any case, it smells. Not unlike the branding iron on flesh, it has a very unique aroma. Very, very faint and just as brief, but it was there. Just to let you know of it's disapproval.

Once we got the gap back up, we headed back to the headquarters. Weaning colts and working mares filled our morning. Things are still pretty wet down there, so the water gap fixing closed up our afternoon and we shut down a little early.

I stopped by my grandparents house and found a wonderful surprise. More peppers - straight from the garden and zipped up into two Ziploc bags waiting for me to take them home. I couldn't resist. I lifted the bag, unzipped it and lifted some more. Then I opened it and plunged my head into the bag like we did in the water at the creek when we got to hot. Wow. That smell is one of a kind. Regardless of the fact that I definitely breached the pepper's personal space, as was made apparent by my watering eyes and choked up throat, there was no regret.

The bouquet, though not from a fine wine, or liqueur, was bold, earthy and unique in it's own spactac-ulocity-ness. ;)

Everyone has a lineup of fragrances that could tell the story of their lives. The smells that, together, can describe why you are you. Find them. Why do I know exactly what a trimmed hoof smells like? And the inside of the Zachary Engineering Building's server room?

Don't wake up and smell the roses. Wake up and smell those things that you've been put here to smell. Inspiration will overtake you.

The Times

Not even three weeks ago Bee County was right in the middle of one of the worst droughts in history. Not recent history. History. Period.

Comparisons were made to the drought of the 50's and there was even some video covering the situation that appeared on CNN. Now, I'm not saying we're out of it yet, because we're not yet. But, things are definitely changing.



Last Thursday we just turned cattle out. We shaped up a set of heifers at the main pens and then turned them out. We penned a set of bulls and cut one old shipper out of the group and then turned them out, too. Mick and Dick eased down to the arena and turned the roping cattle out. That picture above is of them letting the dogs work the roping steers a little before heading back to the ranch. It's wet. J.M. even decided to turn out some cattle he had trapped that were supposed to have gotten worked that afternoon. It's real wet. ;)

Watching it rain is something that truly moves me - the sound, the smell, the knowledge of what it does for the country I love... and that I'm certain loves me. It's unexplainable.

And then we watched the grass grow. Really, you could almost watch it grow. It's always been said that South Texas country is strong country. It comes back fast after a dry spell. And the folks who live down there have had plenty of dry spells to know what the country does after getting a little drink. It's fascinating.

Dirt.

Dirt is what this post has to do with "The Times". There are a couple of things that have come to me lately for various reasons:

1. There are no good times.


2. There are no bad times.

There are just times.

I always thought of this verse - Genesis 3:19 ...for dust you are and to dust you will return. - as a command meant to keep you grounded. (no pun intended) However, remembering that we are dust has recently brought encouragement.

During droughts, the dirt just waits. There's no complaining about the lack of water, seeds, nitrogen, etc. There's no wishing it were sand in Tahiti instead of dirt in Bee County. Dirt waits. It does it's job of providing a floor for the world. And it waits.

And then it rains. There's absolutely no time wasted. Dirt produces like it's never had a chance to produce before. It gives it everything it's got. Weeds? Yep get to growing. Grass? Yep. You, too, get to growing. There's no complaining about growing corn instead of wheat. Or pineapples. Or, whatever. Our creator delivers us exactly what we need - when we need it.

So don't think of the bad times as bad times. You know what? You need those times to become the person you need to be tomorrow, or next year. And it works both ways. Don't think of the good times as good times. You simply need those times to become the person you need to be tomorrow, or next year, as well.

It's hard to wait. It's hard to understand that a "bad time" purpose may be just as important as a "good time" purpose. That's why it's important to embrace the times. Period. Because guess what? More droughts are coming. And more rain.

For love of the game...

The pitch came on the rise, probably around 60-70 miles per hour. The batter, though, was focused, dug in and started to bring his hips around. His shoulders followed and the swing brought his hands through to rip one straight for the hole between second base and the second baseman.

Shortstop was idle. On the balls of his feet and prepared to go in any direction... quickly, he had his glove up, eyes up and spirits up.

The second baseman broke for the ball and made the stop. Shortstop, as well as the base runner on first, had already made their break for the second base bag. A quick toss from the second baseman sent the ball floating somewhere above second base rather than sailing into center field.

The shortstop deftly stepped behind the bag while catching the ball, drug his foot across it and fired it back to first and never broke stride.

Two down. Inning's over.

Sounds like a routine double play for any shortstop. Although, they make it look much easier than it is. But this wasn't just any shortstop playing ball. It was my Dad. And he's 57 years old.

Every time I tell a buddy that Dad had a game, they're incredulous. Hell most of them have been telling me that they're too old to keep playing and most of them are in their thirties.

Morgan's refusal to slowdown is becoming somewhat of a local legend. He has friends he grew up playing baseball with that go to the park to watch their boys play against Morgan. And you should hear the trash talk flyin'. ;)

---

He watched me play ball all the way through high school. But my days in Little League came rushing at me while I sat in the stands last Sunday morning.

Oh, how our perspective changes. I can't begin to count how many games my Dad and I spent in the reverse roll - him sitting in the stands hoping that the double play goes smoothly and me busting my rear trying to turn it. It was about time I was on the other side - paying back some of the support he had offered me so many times before.

That field was covered with men who truly - truly - understood and appreciated the game.

Little Leaguers are just figuring out the importance of winning. The group that I had the privilege of watching... was just starting to forget.

Somewhere in the middle we get focused on the wrong parts of life. Take a deep breath. Enjoy the game.

God Sucks?

Sometimes life throws things at us that we aren't even close to being ready for. They're seemingly out of the blue, or left field, or nowhere... Or out of wherever life's temptations, trials and tribulations come from.



Mellow Yellow was two years old. He could turn around pretty good, he loved to stop and he was gentle, gentle, gentle. You could already heel steers on him out of the box. And head steers and log them off while pen roping. This all sounds like alot for a two-year-old - It is. He was smart. He learned everything the first time and didn't forget much of anything. He was just easy. He was laid back. He was Mellow. He died August 27, 2009.



This is Iceman. His real name is Pay Days Mr Quincy. He was a five year old stallion that was just getting finished up as a calf roping horse. He was solid. He was a statue in the box, ran to the hole every trip and man he could really stop. He stopped so smooth that sometimes you couldn't even tell if he was stopping yet... and then he got to the end of his stop and you knew it, quick. He was just taking the chance to show off a little bit until it was time to bring everything to a screeching halt. He won third in the Open Calf Roping at the very first show he was ever entered. In his second show, he won it. He died September 4, 2009.

Barely one week apart the only two stallions in training here were gone. And horses here don't get to continue being stallions unless they're just a little bit different than most nice horses. These guys were special. Their temperament, appearance, and ability set them apart. So what the hell is the deal?

Sometime between the fourth and fifth of September, so just a day or two ago, Barbie opened her chest up while turned out. I've walked the pasture three times and can't find the place where it happened. It should be pretty obvious since her injury is extensive. Luckily, the vet got her sown up very well and she should be just fine. But that's not what concerns me. What concerns me is Who's next?.

Fr. Ed delivered a message a while back that reminded us that we need to seek a more personal relationship with Our Lord Jesus Christ. During this message he talked about being angry with Him. Anger towards God is not condemnable, it's completely normal behavior for any healthy relationship he said.

Well, then right now I'm pretty damn normal. I was furious. Anger consumed me. The expertise behind the recommendations for the feed we chose, the resources my family utilized to keep these horses in training, the time I spent with these horses everyday, the majesty that these animals project and respect that they deserve... meant nothing. The injured filly will hopefully be back in action soon, but two - in one week - left us and will never be seen again. What the hell kind of purpose, meaning, lessons, etc. can you garner from that?

I'll admit it. I wanted to title this post "God Sucks!" rather than God Sucks?, but you know what, God is the only pure thing we can find. It's not our job to understand. I'll repeat that, because I'm still working to wrap my head around it. It's not our job to understand.

He was impressive to say the least. He was unlike any other. He was steady, always. His demeanor never ceased to amaze me, regardless of others you put around him. And now he's dead. This is no longer about horses. It's Christ. God lost his only son. Does that mean God sucks? How could it? I can not even start to imagine that kind of pain. Surely if it weren't necessary, it would not have happened. I am beginning to appreciate the fact that God does not create situations so much as He utilizes those situations. His purpose requires certain things that we will never understand, but we aren't expected to.

We were created in God's image. God is a worker. We are created to be active. And God blessed each and every one of us with passions and talents for certain things in order to guide us in choosing what it is that will be blessed by our actions. So we are expected to persevere. To Love. To Work. To Connect. To Continue.

Life is rarely warm and fuzzy. And sometimes it hurts... alot, and is utterly unexplainable. But that simply means that sometimes life's circumstances suck. God does not. Rest peacefully knowing that it's OK to be angry with Him. Then, take a deep breath and instead of asking Why? ask What's Next?.

Letting Go

Parenting sucks.

This theory doesn't come from personal experience with children. ( my wife and I don't have any, but would like to have some one day ) However, Joe taught me what I can only imagine is an infinitesimal amount of knowledge in regards to parenting over the last several days.

Joe is a calf roping horse and he's the full brother of Quail Bar Quincy, aka Roany. Roany was the horse we won Reserve World Champion on in 2007. '06 or '07, I can't remember, but the point is that I had a certain expectation of Joe before he made it into my barn. And he surpassed them... by far.

Joe was a big-timer. When he arrived, he was already really stopping hard, but he would lose confidence when I left him. He would almost shy away from me as I went by. He worked rope almost in fear. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to keep pulling, stop pulling, put slack in the rope, or what. He just knew he needed to be doing something.

That's why I liked Joe. He was always thinking. He was a very smart animal. I refer to him in the past tense because he left us Friday - I'll get to that in a minute.

I could show that horse something one time and that was it. He had know idea how talented he was. So, I started hauling him to the rodeos and calf ropings to get him seasoned. He worked nervous at the first two. Refugio and George West. Then he settled down and let me win second at a USCRA in Giddings. After that it was smooth sailing. All the people didn't bother him much anymore, although he still had one eye on them at all times.

Well, Cody Harris came and stayed with us a while to try Joe last week. Cody rode a different horse we sold him while qualifying for the National High School Finals. Those of you familiar with the horses at the ranch will recognize 'BH' in the picture. Cody called him 'Snort'. Now Cody is leading the calf roping standings in the PCA and he's looking for a horse that's at a different level. He's a rising star in the calf roping world and a good kid. Well, he's 20 years old so he's on his way out from being a kid I guess.

Joe was a completely different horse under him and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Things were just not right. There are plenty of horses to work here and so we pen roped a little the second day and Cody roped some breakaway on Joe. That's when they started to click. Day three found me watching Cody hold a couple up and spit 'em out even though Joe was hitting the dirt and coming out of it fast and pulling hard. Cody was just a grinnin...

This guy can rope.

And then I realized it for the first time. This calf roping horse was leaving. Cody hadn't told me yet, but I already knew. It made me kind of nervous. Almost sick at my stomach. Day one was not good. And I certainly didn't want them to get all the way back to Alabama and start having trouble.

Joe just has to learn Cody the same as Cody has to learn Joe. The thing is, I'd like to give him a call everyday and let him know... "Well, if he's doing such and such , do this - and if he's doing something else, well try this...."

Joe has the talent. And he knows the routine.

Cody has the talent. And Cody knows the routine.

James just needs to shut up. ;) This horse is headed down the road to bigger and better things.

Ecclesiastes 3 says there's a time for everything. Well I guess it's time to turn him lose, trust what I've done with Joe and trust in his ability to be a big-timer calf roping horse. Hopefully it won't be long and the pictures and success stories will come rolling in.

I hope...

Persistence

“All of us have bad luck and good luck. The man who persists through the bad luck - who keeps right on going - is the man who is there when the good luck comes - and is ready to receive it.” ~ Robert Collier

Perseverance Thursday

Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ~James 1:2-4

---

DAMMITT!

I don't want my faith tested! Not at what seems to be the expense of others. Nor will pretend to have a clue regarding why we are subjected to varying decrees of tribulation.

But, I do know this - Our Lord does not subject us to evil, but there's no reason He can't use every circumstance for accomplishing His purpose.

So shit happens. Isn't that the bumper sticker Forest Gump came up with ;)?

But, like Father Ed likes to say, "God is in the mess."

I for one am going to take tomorrow to dig around in it. Everyone has a mess to deal with. Most of us would choose our own, too, if we got to comparing. But slow down and find God in there. He's there. And I'm gonna find Him.

Careful What You Wish For...

Most of the year gives me a chance to attend the early mass in town and get horses ridden in the evenings. Summer time changes that - especially in South Texas. Several of the horses are ridden in the morning and others are ridden in the evening. This allows RanchForeman to keep sort-of-normal business hours and still get the horses trained during the cooler parts of the day. You can't teach an over heated horse anything... not to mention getting over heated yourself.

So, the daily readings keep my attention until the summer decides to rest until next year. Here are today's readings. The first one, from Judges, caught my attention. Mainly because I didn't understand anything at all. Tree kings and Lebanon cedars. What the heck!?!?

So, I shot an email over to Father Ed and am just loving his reply. Be sure to read today's first reading before you continue. The email is posted below in it's entirety so you can get the message and get to know his unique personality a little.

---

Hello, James.

The story about the trees is really a curse on King Abimelech (a son of Judge Gideon and one of his concubines or slave girls) by Jotham, Judge Gideon’s youngest/legitimate son. Abimelech was a power hungry bastard who disagreed with his father, Gideon, who felt that God should be the only King of Israel. So Gideon refused to be the king. Abimelech was hell-bent on becoming the king. The result is that Israel (Shechem) got a buckthorn for a King. (This meant that if people ever disobeyed King Abimelech, he would have them burned, like a buckthorn.)

You see, Abimelech had murdered many members of his own family to secure the throne. He was a tyrant and opened the city of Shechem to crime syndicates (kind of like a very early Tony Soprano!) Abimelech became a buckthorn in the people’s side!

In his third year as king, some lady dropped a millstone from a tower onto his head. Before he died, he had one of his soldiers run a spear through him so it looked like he died in battle and not at the hands of a woman. Such a deal!

Blessings!

Fr. Ed

---

How common is it for us to demand the newest of the new, or what's cool, trendy, or simply our favorite 'such and such'. Be careful, you just might get it. Then what... Our country is right in the middle of just such a predicament right now.

Do you ask for the ability to persevere regardless of the circumstance, or do you just ask for the perfect circumstance? Do you ask for experiences to develop wisdom, or do you just ask to be wise? We know what we want, but don't have a clue about what we need. Pray for the humility just to know that. And then the rest will start falling into place.

In the book, The Shack (that's the little house, not the basketball player ;) ) there is a quote from God the Father that says, "You demand your independence, but then complain that I actually love you enough to give it to you."

Comedic Relief Thursday

This is the most water Bee County has seen in months - maybe a year.

Hauling water is usually not anything to get worked up about. We are used to the wind stopping and some of the wells breaking during this part of the year. In fact, we've got a water trailer designed specifically for the task. But, here's the rub - my uncles have been hauling water for several months now and Dad has started recently as well. Half of the day is wasted on hard work and you get finished and realize you've done nothing.

Actually, you've kept the animals alive, but as far as getting things accomplished, you've done nothing. It's frustrating work.

As you've probably deduced by now, Thursday we hauled water. And fixed troughs. That's Morgan in the picture and for you wise guys out there, we had already done part of the job together and he told me that there was no use in us both getting soaked this second time. So I'm not just hanging out annoying him with camera clicks while he sweats it out in 104 degree weather fixing a water trough. Well, I am, but he told me not to wade in. And hey, I just got a super sweet new rugged camera so what was I gonna do? :)

This kind of monotonous work reminds me of how important it is to keep things light hearted. Enter Mick and Dick. They weren't with us on the water trip, but I can promise you that most of their water trips are fun. Fun!?!? Yep. They have to be or you'll go crazy. The trip to town for lunch was vintage Mick and Dick. My cousin, Kelley, met Matthew McConaughey at the river a little while back.



Here is Kelley checking out Mick's new phone. He's probably about to show Kelley Mathew's phone number. Then, he'll probably call me - and I'm sitting right there. He does it to me all of the time. It's aggravating... and hilarious. Anyway, Mick and Dick said they already new McConaughey. And Kid Rock. The funny part about it is that they feed off of one another and if you didn't know them (and in some cases even if you did ;) ) you'd swear on your life that they did know McConaughey and Kid Rock... Very Well.

Well they don't, but it sure is fun learning about the stars through the fantastically detailed fabrications of Mick and Dick O'Brien.

The fun didn't stop there. Poor Kelley. He's really becoming an asset down there and so we have to give him a hard time. Well, we would anyway, but it's fun knowing that he's becoming a good worker. Anyway, he's dating (oh sorry, "talking to" according to Kelley) a young lady by the name of Kate.

So, naturally we heard the quick-to-be-sung and surprisingly good rendition of the chorus of Ian Tyson's Navajo Rug over and over again from a very fulfilled Mick and Dick. They sing surprisingly well and the moments they choose to launch into song is always timed perfectly. Here's the song in case you need to hear the chorus line to know what's going on.

[audio:http://www.spiritualhorseman.com/audio/Ian-Tyson-Navajo-Rug.mp3]

The day winded down early for me since I was tasked with delivering a mare to Boerne that evening. I got loaded up and headed north around 3:30pm.

Ranch work is always difficult and often frustrating. And like my MANY long drives, it's lonely. But, as long as there's a random thought about how Mick and Dick sold a horse to Kid Rock's cousin in Sacramento, or how Eye Yih Yih, Katy sounds being sung from two twins in South Texas just as Kelley was about to try and tell a story... Everything else seems a little bit better.

Here's to making fun of the mess in life. You may as well smile, 'cause it can always be worse.

Why did you get married?

The sparkle had barely begun to be noticed as Our Lord painted the sky in celebration of another perfect day. And as it ended something else begun.

They were holding hands and looking toward the pastor as he spoke. Neither, however, were focused on the message but on the new adventure they were embarking on this evening. But as the pastor spoke, many began to reflect upon their own relationships - including the two being married I'm sure.

He shared applicable scripture. He shared wonderful anecdotes. And then he closed.

I visited with countless couples regarding why they get married. I'm sure you have a great reason for why you got married. Maybe you couldn't put your finger on just one reason. Well, God has a plan for you. And I'll tell you why you married her.

Because you've gone as far as you can go without her.

Laptop Recommendations

These laptop recommendations are specifically being made for rodeo bums, horse show snobs, horse barn managers, cattle ranchers, and most specifically... horse insurance professionals.

A good friend of mine and agent for BrooksMaberry Equine Insurance is looking for a laptop. He travels quite a bit with his job and also rodeos as often as he can. In other words, he will treat his laptop about like I treat mine. Terribly.

Really. Really Bad.

Anyway, Panasonic makes the best rugged laptop there is. But, you get what you pay for. They're high. The Panasonic Toughbook F8 is a semi-rugged laptop that is a little more economical.

Lenovo, who purchased the IBM Thinkpad line, makes the best mainstream laptop suited for the habits of the rodeo bum, surfer dude, horse training, construction working type. It's build quality is unsurpassed in the market. I'm typing this on a Thinkpad T42 that I bought at least two or three years ago.

In computer years, that's almost 529 years old. ;)

So, buy a Dell if you'd like guys, but the laptops below are the best lickin' takers that will keep on tickin'.

Toughbook 30
This is simply the best of the best. Almost indestructible. And great specs.


Toughbook F8
The F8 is still pretty tough, but you won't be running over it in the truck or letting any horses step on it. Spill resistant keyboard, but don't try hosing this baby down.


Lenovo T400
The Thinkpad line has the best mass market laptop build quality available. It's not in the class of the laptops above regarding drops and spills, but it's ability to handle the dust and daily abuse of the backseat of a pickup truck are far and beyond any Dell Inspiron or HP laptop you can buy - And for the same price. This is a great laptop.


Well, I shouldn't have done this. Now, I want to go buy me a new laptop. ;) I don't think I can wait until my Thinkpad gives out.

Good Intention Pavement

Humility is important. Any time Our Lord gives you a chance to realize you're not as wonderful as you think you are, be thankful.

This picture is of a group of soldiers serving in Afghanistan. They have just received a care package from Texas. Actually, it's from yours truly. And my wife of course. Well, this picture, along with a very appreciative email from Stoney leads me to several conclusions.

1. Chips may stand the heat in the desert, but they won't handle being shipped 7,967 miles to Afghanistan.


2. Velveeta. That's really all I need to say. Seriously!?!?! We sent Velveeta to Afghanistan? Yep, and it doesn't ship well my friends.


3. Military personnel are too quick and generous with their appreciation. ;)

Also, a close family friend of ours, whom I'll allow the opportunity to save face, was recently, um.... misguided by Ranch Ethics Thursday. Like I said, he is a very close family friend, so I'm not going to miss the opportunity to rib him a little.

Recently, a stray bull found himself at home on this individual's property. Now, I don't want you guessing who this is too easily. But, here's a hint - the town rhymes with Seguin. Texas. ;)

Anyway, in an effort to keep this short, the cattle got penned. The bull was sorted off. This gentleman is no stranger to cattle. Or horses. However, this bull just wasn't taking the chute as intended. So in true matador fashion, our friend went at him a little harder.

And was subsequently power-housed.

Mauled. And pulverized like Chef Emeril Lagasse's mojito mint leaves until he was unconscious. ( the only reason this is being shared now is because we know he is OK - no injuries )

The intention to return a bull to his neighbor, ended in the hospital. But, hey the wrecks keep us young right? I wish I could say I have never done something like that.

The old proverb is that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Neither of these stories are exactly "road to hell" material. Not even close.

But, it would probably be easier to stay on track if we pulled our heads out once in a while. ;)

The Contradiction: preface to War Horse

Horses are spiritual animals. Take a child to see a running horse for the first time and I guarantee you that the reaction will be quite a bit different from their first cow siting, or chicken, or anything. One of my favorite quotes is if God made anything better than the horse, He kept it for Himself.

The obvious reality is that they are just a little bit different.

Well, the Perfect Fit Thursday lead me to revisit my thoughts about the spirituality of the horse. I'm alone often. Very often. So I think about this quite a bit. I call it The Contradiction.

Merriam-Webster states that to contradict is to assert a fact or condition incompatible with another, or to assert the opposite of.

The horse is the largest, most powerful and influential... fragile, meek and influenced animal on the planet.

Reflecting more on this contradiction found me making myriad analogies relating the horse to spiritual life. Initially, feeding the horse was the starting point of the analogy between horse and prayer. But then, Perfect Fit Thursday came along and reminded me that you have to find the right horse in the first place - not just any horse.

Continuing this retrospective walk found myself finding an even earlier starting point. The realization that you need a horse in the first place. Not want a horse - NEED. Most people don't. Who does?

Well, to find the right fit for sharing these ideas we're gonna wind it back. WAY back. Horses were first used in warfare over 5000 years ago. But, they were primarily used for communication and wagon pulling. A Greek cavalry officer, Xenephon, was the first known military officer to use them in battle. He even wrote one of the earliest treatises on horsemanship. But, the best known application for horses in warfare started in the 7th and 8th centuries in Europe. This period saw the rise of horses being used by the heavy cavalry warrior also known as the armored knight.

That's the image we'll use for our war horse. See, we're engulfed in spiritual warfare all day every day. We need a way to handle it, navigate it, conquer it.

We need a war horse.

---

The Contradiction is something I often contemplate. I have a very hard time explaining it vocally. However, writing is something I enjoy and the horse analogy will hopefully help you wrap your head around some of the ideas I will share in this upcoming series. (Although, I don't have my head wrapped all the way around most of the ideas ;) ) But that's just it, it's a journey. No one has it all figured out. We'll kick it off with the next post called - The Realization. Your feedback is both welcomed and appreciated. Hopefully, we can all learn something from one another. So until next time, start thinking about what you're war horse will be like. Adios - James

Perfect Fit Thursday

Activity on Thursday morning started a little later this past week since my lovely bride was going to the ranch with me and my brother was celebrating his birthday that afternoon. We loaded up and headed south that morning and stopped through Jourdanton on the way to get some Sutton Super Novas. Those are heel ropes and John (my brother) and I just happen to use the same kind and lay of heel ropes. I picked up several so I could give him one for his birthday. Yes, I got his gift the day of the party. So sue me.

Anyway, what does a birthday have to do with less Thursday activity?

Well, the ranchers know these things, but it's hard for most other folks to understand the scheduling habits of ranchers. It's also just as hard for ranchers to understand the scheduling habits of everybody else. Ranchers schedule jobs, or projects, and everybody else schedules hours, or days. When you have a yearling run off, or a windmill breakdown, or a fence down, or... the list goes on forever, the five o'clock whistle means exactly jack squat. On the other hand, most other folks schedule their hours. If you have a business meeting with someone at 3:30pm and you're busy completing a job, well it may the last job you get to complete.

Well, if J.M. scheduled some cattle work on Thursday afternoon, it would very likely be completed by 5:30pm. That was when the party was scheduled to start. However, it was also fairly likely that we wouldn't be back by then. Cattle sometimes decide to have plans other than the ones we decide upon. Don't get me wrong, they're going wherever we want them to go (most of the time ;) ) but it may take 30 minutes or it may take 5 hours.

So, when important family events are scheduled, we don't even bother. The day was filled with riding horses anyway, since we had a horse buyer coming the next day. We probably had twenty or so caught up that we thought may fit.

Twenty!? Well, yea there were about twenty. No they would not all be shown to the buyer. We get up the ones we think will fit the buyer's needs and then we ride them to get a better feel for where they are. The ones that fit what we feel like the buyer is looking for get to be caught up the next day and tried by the buyer. When you're picking up a horse, the most important thing is fit. You can have a great rider and a great horse, but if the fit is wrong, it will not work.

The same type of thing happened to me when I was looking for my brother's birthday gift. I was all over Bexar county looking for a dealer that carried Suttons. I found a couple and swung about fifteen to twenty ropes. I almost talked myself into buying one, but it just wasn't quite right. And ropes aren't cheap these days. After visiting with a friend of mine, I discovered that Suttons factory was only about twenty minutes from my house. Eureka!

That's why Tonni and I decided to leave a little later. We waited for Sutton's to open and then we stopped through on the way down to the ranch. I stepped in the plant and there was a rack of maybe a thousand ropes. I told Gary Sutton what I was looking for and he grabbed one off the rack and yanked the ties off of it. I took a couple of swings.

That was it. That was the rope. I knew in an instant. There were hundreds other ropes in there that were good ropes. But this one fit me. And John uses the same one as well. So, like I said, i bought several and headed out.

I think our spiritual lives are just like this. Some folks go to church every day. Some never go to church. I am in no way condoning not going to church. But, you have to consider the prayer life of others before you go criticizing their lifestyle. Ranchers sometimes criticize the planning efforts of others when the fact is, they could benefit from a better scheduling routine. Many people think ranchers just don't plan anything and do whatever they want when they want. The fact is, they could learn from the way ranchers pay attention to the world around them and take care of issues as they come up. Then work diligently until the job is done.

What it all boils down to is what fits for you. Do you schedule prayer time? Do you pray as needed? Do you think there may be reason for both?

Do you look for how Christ is working in others' lives? How do you fit in there?

Do you look for Christ in your own life? Where does He fit?

How God Builds Your Faith: Decision

James 1:6, 8
But when you ask Him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind . . . Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do.

Today's Readings reminded me of an email I recently received. It was a simple devotional email released by Rick Warren and it started with the verse from James above. In today's first reading from Exodus 14:5-18 Our Lord God asked Moses to lift up his staff and with hand outstretched over the sea, split it in two.

What!?!?

Seriously Lord, the Egyptians are right there. I can see them. Can we stop jackin' around here and do some smiting or something. ;)

That's probably what I would have been thinking. And Moses may have had his reservations as well. We all do when we're asked to do those things that God knows will make us great - Things we haven't done before - Things outside our comfort zone. But, Moses' faith was in God alone.

The rest of this post comes directly from Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Connection.So check it out and subscribe.

---

After God gives you a dream, the next step for building your faith is decision; God challenges you to do something about your dream.

Nothing is going to happen to that dream until you wake up and put it into action. You've got to make the decision: "I'm going to go for it!" For every ten dreamers in the world, there is only one decision maker. A lot of people have dreams but they never get to step two: making the decision to trust God and follow their dream.

James says, "But when you pray, you must believe and not doubt at all. Whoever doubts is like a wave in the sea that is driven and blown about by the wind. If you are like that, unable to make up your mind and undecided in all you do, you must not think that you will receive anything from the Lord" (James 1:6-7 TEV).

Faith is a verb. It's active and not passive. It's something you do. Decision making is a faith-building activity. You use your muscles of faith.

Faithful decision making requires two things:

1. You must decide to invest your time, money, reputation, and energy. You lay it on the line; you take the plunge. You say, "God, You've told me to do this and I'm going to be faithful to do it!"

2. You have to let go of security. You cannot move in faith and hold onto the past at the same time. You have to move forward. God told Abraham that He was going to make him the father of a great nation, and that meant Abraham had to leave his home for an unknown destination. Moses had to let go of his position in Pharaoh's kingdom in order to do God's will. Nehemiah gave up a secure job in order to go build a wall around Jerusalem. In other words, if you want to walk on water, you've got to get out of the boat.

A great illustration of God's plan is a trapeze artist. They swing out holding onto a trapeze bar, and then they let go in order to grab hold of another trapeze bar that swings them to the other side. But, at one point, they're not holding on to any bar. They're suspended in air for a split second.

Have you ever been there in a career, where you're leaving one job for another and nothing's in between? You're 180 feet above the ground with no net below and holding onto nothing.

But if you don't let go and grab onto the vision God wants you to have, you swing back. Only you don't swing all the way back; instead, you swing back lower and lower until you're finally stopped, hanging there in the air. And there's only one way out: down!

That's why God brings you to a point of decision, so your faith will build as you swing toward the dream God has given you.

---

Further Reading:
- How to make better decisions
- Prayer and Influence
- Ranch Ethics Thursday

Personal Integrity and it's relation to rural living

Play First - if you have trouble, email me - jamesobrien@ranchforeman.com
[audio:http://www.spiritualhorseman.com/audio/louis-about-sis.mp3]

Sis
1968 - 2009
Kid Horse - Cow Horse - Friend


Sis wasn't Tonni's (my wife) first horse, but she was that one special horse in her life. Sis started out in the wilds of New Mexico on an Indian Reservation and came into Tonni's life when she was nine. She taught her more than she cares to recount about horses, horsemanship, rodeo, competition, etc. The second line in this post is not a typo. She was 41 years old when she died Monday. I've been in the horse world all of my life and I've never heard of a horse living such a long time.

What always makes me smile, though, is how animals like this teach us more than just the standard animal-husbandry-feed-and-medicine type of stuff. They move people. If you haven't had a special animal in your life get one. If that one craps in the bed, well, get rid of it and give it another try. ;)

Too many people in our society these days miss out on the character building lessons that the care, love and loss of animals teaches us. Listen to the voice of the man in the recording at the top of this post. It's Tonni's Dad. Sis was at his place when she died. That man has seen many animals die and you can still hear the emotion in his voice when he talks about this one. That emotion is for Sis, it's for Tonni, it's even for Louis. I'm sure this brought memories of one of those special animals he had in his life. They impact so many parts of our lives.

And here's what Tonni's best friend Becca Chalk Burns had to say:

---

Oh Tonni, I wish I had the words. A lifetime with our best friends is never enough. I know with all my heart that God takes and keeps those who watch over our hearts. Without a doubt he's got those three in his herd. As for ever finding another, well that's an impossible find. You & I both know there's only one Sis & Poncho. We didn't find them - they found us. It was out of our love for them that we found ourselves & in that defined our character & most of all our hearts. No other horse can help mold you as Sis did. God knew we needed them just as much as they needed us. So no, there will never be another little sister. She's got your heart like no other. There are others out there they may come close to stealing your heart but only one will hold it ... love you always - Chalka

---

If you choose to be around animals, you may be lucky enough to get one of those special ones in your life. A dog, a cat, a horse, cow, whatever... a giraffe or zebra. Doesn't matter.

What matters is that those who grow up with animals come to understand what responsibility really means at a very young age. And loss. They may get the old "Buster-ran-away" speech when they're two or so, but then comes the death speech at a very young age. The beautiful part is that they also become entwined in God's creation the way God intended - Harmoniously.

Sometimes, amidst the music of life, comes the verse that touches our hearts in ways words can not explain. And we love.

Just because we know that every song ends doesn't mean that it wasn't worth the listen.

The Warrior's Stones

Inevitably you've heard the term, "Grow a pair." I know it doesn't portray the most pleasant imagery, but there really is something to having a spine in today's society. There just aren't enough people around anymore that, when asked, speak their mind without reservation. Most folks these days fit into two categories:

• the yammer on forever without ever being asked about everything because they're an expert category


• and the never say a word because i might offend somebody and so i'll go along with anything category

Well, the soldiers in the last post - We are His Church...and Warriors - have some stones.

Yea, they have the figurative "pair" that more people today really need, but they also have a different set of stones. They immediately reminded me of David and so I went back and looked up the last chapter in a book I read recently. The chapter entitled, Goliath Down!, speaks of the ammunition David, as a shepherd, brought into battle with him. And I suspect our soldiers friends from We are His Church...and Warriors are packing them, too.

Five Stones

The Stone of the Past
Catalog God's successes in your life. Refuse to focus on your own failures.

Write today's worries in the sand. Chisel yesterday's victories in stone.

The Stone of Prayer
Before every victory David experienced, he first went to God in prayer. Don't face your giant without first doing the same.

Peace is promised to the one who fixes thoughts and desires on the king.

The Stone of Priority
Think about your own reputation - how strongly you are affected by it - how strongly you defend it. David guarded God's reputation fiercely.

See your struggle as God's canvas. On it He will paint His multicolored supremacy.

The Stone of Passion
David ran, not away from, but toward his giant.

David lobotomized the giant because he emphasized the Lord.

The Stone of Persistence
Goliath had four T-Rex sized relatives. Who knew if they would come to Goliath's rescue. David didn't think one rock would do. He was ready to do it again. And again. . .

Never give up.

---

Further Reading:
- We are His church... and Warriors
- All of the italicized phrases are quotes from the book, Facing Your Giants: The God Who Made a Miracle Out of David Stands Ready to Make One Out of You

We are His Church... and Warriors

"We weren’t a very impressive group, four men who seemingly had two things in common: 1) we were Christian, and 2) we were soldiers."

*** Vibrations ***
*** Vibrations ***

My phone was ringing, although I've long since spit the bit out on these retarded ringtones, so my phone was actually vibrating.

(210) 925-1110

I showed it to my wife.

"You know this number?" I asked.

She just shook her head no. We were doing some power grazing at a little burger joint just down the road called Lil' Jim's.

I had missed a call from this number on July 4th as well. But, no message. So, I was curious.

"Is James O'Brien there?" came a glimpse of familiarity accompanied by an abruptness of which I doubt my good friend was even aware.

"This is he." I said half wondering if I was hearing who I thought I was hearing.

There was a long pause.

And then he burst through the silence again, "Stoney Portis here, calling from Afghanistan. Am I calling at a bad time?"

Wow. I wanted to say, "Are you kidding me? You're half way around the world and it's probably the middle of the night and you're asking me if it's a bad time. I'll make time."

Anyway, I didn't say any of that and we had a nice conversation, but that's not what this is about. He also sent me an email this afternoon. He asked that I look it over and if felt compelled to do so, to post it here on SpiritualHorseman.com.

Well suffice it to say that I'm compelled.

An excerpt from our conversation included these words from Stoney, "There's no underlying profound message, but it was a church service that really spoke to me and so I wanted to share it."

I agree and disagree. You're right Stoney, there's no underlying message. But profound, well it's the very definition.

Here's the email:

---

It had only been a week since I first heard of Michael Travaglione, and he was already a legend. Like an episode of déjà vu, every new detail I heard about him in the days leading up to this moment was a fascinating encore that reiterated what I already knew. This man is a badass. And there he stood, right in front of me.

Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) Mike Travaglione has been to more combat zones than there are continents. He’s climbed to outposts in the mountains of Afghanistan, to patrol bases in the deserts of Iraq, and dove on combat dives to the depths of the Red Sea in the Sinai Peninsula. While he doesn’t recommend it, Mike has enjoyed his current deployment of 24 consecutive months (12 in Iraq and going on 13 in Afghanistan, back to back), although he admits with a sly grin that he could really use a glass of scotch. This man is a warrior. The tattoos that define his forearms and biceps are rugged – maybe he inked them himself, decades ago, before American soldiers operated in Iraq, Afghanistan, Kosovo, or Vietnam. He’s lived in several third world countries, sometimes for years at a time, and he speaks a handful of languages. His memory is so good that he can recite long excerpts from several books, many in multiple languages. He’s a stocky man of average height, and the wrinkles on his weather-worn face tell a story all their own. This man has lived a life worth living. LTC Travaglione’s voice sounds like a scruffy version of Robert DeNiro that comes from deep within the toughest corners of the Bronx. He’s a living paradox, embodying the bravado of a 1920s mobster while having a boundless capacity for compassion and humility. This man has wisdom.

There were four of us on this day, five including him. He stood on one side of the table, we stood on the other. We were in a lowland, southwest of the Hindu Kusch Mountains, miles from Pakistan, in an American Forward Operating Base in Afghanistan. The room we were in was relatively safe, but with all the warfare going on outside the camp’s walls, we were hoping this man could lead us in our fight for peace. It was Sunday morning near Jalalabad, and Father Mike Travaglione had just arrived via combat patrol to lead our church service in a makeshift chapel. At the age of 71, Father Mike Travaglione is the oldest priest in the US Army.

We weren’t a very impressive group, four men who seemingly had two things in common: 1) we were Christian, and 2) we were soldiers. All of us had been deployed before, all of us carried a weapon in church, and before we knew it Father Travaglione had all of us singing a hymn to symbolize that Mass had begun. No musical instruments, no background music, no professional singers (that’s for sure). But we sang together in broken harmony anyways: “Make me a channel of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring your love. Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord. And where there’s doubt, true faith in you. O Master, grant that I may never seek, so much to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand, to be loved, as to love, with all my soul.” How ironic to have men of war singing together a song of peace.

Chaplain Travaglione’s homily was short and simple. He delivered the message as if he were talking to his own grandsons, fully aware of our exhaustion, our loneliness, and the spiritual war that pervaded everything around us. He was clear, and concise: “Lord speak, for your servant listens. Men, sometimes we get too caught up in the prayers we pray and the lives we lead, trying in angst to be men of God. Stop. Be quiet. Listen. Some of the most powerful prayers we have are those quiet moments of peace where we don’t say anything. Lord speak, for your servant listens. Sit. Quietly. Listen. That is prayer.” Father prepared the Eucharist, we all recited the Lord’s prayer, and we shared in the sacrament. Then we sat, we listened, we prayed. We closed the worship service not 20 minutes after we had opened it by singing “America The Beautiful,” it seemed entirely appropriate on 4th of July Weekend. But after we sang the 1st verse and started to close our hymnals to go back to work, one of the old, crusty non-commissioned officers continued singing in a raspy voice the 3rd verse, skipping the 2nd verse entirely. “O beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife, who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine, till all success be nobleness, and every gain divine.”

---

David immediately comes to mind. And Goliath.

Let's talk church first.

I can't recall a single verse that speaks of David being in a 'church' and yet, God describes him as "a man after my own heart." (I'm not sure of the verse, but it's in Acts.)

The world, God's creation, was David's church. And every day was a prayer.

We are lead where we are lead. And it is there that we should deliver His message. We are the church. A church is not a building but a body, the body of Christ. And we are ALL members. This isn't a suggestion to not go to the building people. It's a statement as to why the building even exists. It's our job to come together as Christians. And even in an Afghani AFOB southwest of the Hindu Kusch Mountains these men made it happen.

Why? - War requires a main operating base. With Christianity, it's the church. Go. What would happen to these soldiers if they never returned to their base camp, their forward operating base, or their main operating base? They'd be tired, hungry and lonely. But more importantly, they'd be low on moral, uninformed and questioning their purpose. Sound familiar?

"We weren’t a very impressive group, four men who seemingly had two things in common: 1) we were Christian, and 2) we were soldiers."

This sums it up... for all of us. The question though, for all of us, is what kind of soldier are we?

David was a true warrior. A leader. A king. But at one time, he was a spindly little shepherd. A nobody. And when that nobody was faced by what was everyone else's worst fear...

He ran. But, He ran toward what everyone else feared. He ran toward Goliath.

1 Samuel 17:48The Philistine then moved to meet David at close quarters, while David ran quickly toward the battle line in the direction of the Philistine.

We are all at war. Goliaths roam freely. Debt. Disaster. Danger. Deceit. Disease. Depression... And Actual War.

Well, we are all soldiers. Ask yourself what kind of spiritual soldier you are. I'm not talking about going and sitting in a corner and praying your problems away. Read the email again and look to these men as an example. An example of how we can handle our spiritual warfare. An example of action. Spiritual warfare is real. And look to David as well.

Will you take up your weapons and stride toward the giants in your life?

Ranch Ethics Thursday

June 30 was my birthday. And as part of my gift, my lovely bride sent my Maui Jim's sunglasses in for repair. Maui Jim's evidently has impeccable customer service. They returned a brand new pair of the titanium Kapalua's. I was just hoping to get my sunglasses back. Maybe with the lenses replaced. But they sent a brand new pair, and a new case with cleaning cloth.

I had them about an hour.

We went to Barnes & Noble as part of the celebration. I know, boring, but that's what I like to do. Anyway, I was reading something and had set my glasses down for a couple of minutes. Now they're gone.

What does this have to do with Ranch Ethics?

I'm getting there. I was furious. FURIOUS! Why the hell would anybody want to be a good person when everybody around you are complete trash. And evidently you get more out of life ( like a sweet new pair of Maui Jim's sunglasses ) when you're a thieving asshole. OK, the vulgarity is a little much, but I was still a little put off by this whole thing... Until Thursday.

---

Thursday morning kicked in the same old routine. Up and at 'em - feed - hook up and load saddles and gear - load horses and head south. As soon as I arrived, Morgan and I made the feeding rounds and then headed to where we store the portable pens. They're a set of heavy duty panels engineered to be pulled like a bumper pull trailer. They can hold close to forty or fifty head and can be set up by one or two men in about fifteen minutes.

Anyway, I was curious as to where we were headed.

Berclair.

Well, that was Five-O's country and I thought we had cleaned it all out several months ago. (The Five-O's are J.M.'s five children.)

Morgan informed me that we were not working our cattle but a neighbor's cattle who had ventured on to that Berclair country. Fair enough. We got hooked up and headed out.

As we pulled up to the middle trap, there were three or four head in there with the same amount of calves, none of which appeared to be Five-O's cows. (There were still seven in the pasture that belonged to Five-O's) That's about what I expected. However, we just got a count and kept on truckin'.

"Where we headed?" I asked Morgan.

"Down to that back trap. Those are probably Cartright cattle. We'll just set those trap gates and deal with them next week. I think there are a couple more of them in here."

So off to the back we went. When we pulled up to that back trap I didn't see a couple of strays. I saw sixteen head of good looking tiger striped cows, at least 8-10 calves and one bull. What the ...!?!?

"Who do these belong to?" I asked Dad wondering who had the 'Lazy-P' brand.

"Mike Powers. I've been calling him for a couple of days and I think they're working cattle across the creek today. So, we'll just try and get these penned and head over there. Hopefully we can catch him 'cause I'm not sure where he wants 'em."

It all boils down to the fact that it's HOT. And DRY. South Texas looks pretty rough right now. Since Five-O's had pulled nearly all of their cattle off of this place, it was one of the few around that had plenty of grass. Couple that with the fact that it's bordered on one side by the Blanco Creek, which is dry as a bone, and you have cattle looking for grass and water. So they start pushing on the water gaps down in the creek bottoms and it doesn't take long for them to end up in our set of rolling pens. ;)

Dad and I got the pens set up and long story short, we also got the cattle penned. A phone call from J.M. let us know it was lunch time. They were headed into town to the Taqueria. We stopped by the Powers place and spoke with Mike's brother, Norman. (by the way - How do you make a deer blind?.................................. You poke it in the eye.)

I know, but Norman thought it was hilarious. But he was the one that told it.

After lunch we headed to the ranch to get a couple ranch rigs to load the cattle in. We hooked up and one by one our little three rig convoy eased through that infamous narrow green cattle guard and headed for Berclair.

I guess it was about half way when I asked Dad why it always seemed like we got horseback and went to pen our cattle, load them and bring them back whenever they got onto someone else's place. And anytime someone else's cattle got on our place, we always hand delivered them.

He just grinned. He said he didn't know why it always ends up like that. But his grin and demeanor said otherwise. He was perfectly happy doin' it. Of course it would be nice if people brought our cattle in. But we don't have any control over that. So why do we always take care of everyone else's cows.

Because it's the right thing to do. That's why.

Thanks for the lesson Morgan. One among thousands.

Then on my way home, another of my influencers (by the way - who influences you - who do you influence) drove it all home.

Don't pray for an easier life. For more money. More happy times. A healthy wife.

Pray that the Message - His Message - may prosper. Pray that you can help deliver it. Trust me, when my glasses got stolen, I was not wanting the message to prosper. ;) I was wanting to strangle somebody with that super cool and bendy titanium frame that those glasses were made out of.

If you want to listen to Gregg Matte talk more about this click here.

It's worth a listen.

This also reminded me of a book that my friend Stan Sigman gave me a little while back. Here it is on Amazon:



It's a great read. And it tries to help everyone understand why in the world you'd take care of everybody else's cows even when nobody takes care of yours. It's called Cowboy Ethics: What Wall Street Can Learn from the Code of the West

Well, Morgan, Mick, Dick and I got Mr. Powers' cattle loaded and delivered.

Why?

Because it's the right thing to do. Be an example of His Message.

Designed for Work: Rick Warren

God Designed You to Work
by Rick Warren
Ephesians 2:10

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do".

Your work can be an act of worship. No matter what you do, it's never just a job if you are a believer. This is because God designed you with talents, gifts, and interests that He wants used for His glory.

You are custom-made. There's nobody like you in the whole world. And the gifts, the abilities, the talents, even the interests you have, they were genetically encoded into you by God. You didn't have a say in what you were going to be interested in, what you are naturally good at. God made you with a specific mission in mind and He wants you to use the gifts He's given you in your work.

The Bible says that you are God's workmanship. The Greek word used for workmanship is poema; that's where our word for "poem" comes from. You are God's poem! You are God's work of art. You are God's masterpiece.

Your work is part of God's plan for your life and that is why, as you work, you worship God