On a borrowed pony, my daughter completed her first horse competition on Saturday.
“I’m not nervous, Mama.” She announced to me Saturday morning. “I’m just gonna imagine it’s just you and Trish out there and pretend no one else is watching.”
I told her that I thought it was a great way to approach it.
She brought with her a personal fan club, grandparents and friends, all of us of non-horse people in a sea of spurs, boots and hats. Even so we settled in to watch the rest of the competitors kick up dust.
“Hope Markley, fourth,” the announcer spoke her name over the loudspeaker. She came in number four out of eight junior riders. We all cheered, her sister hugged her and Hope’s joy might have been the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a long time. She jumped and squealed and collected her ribbon from the registration booth.
Her first ribbon. Her first prize for being skilled at something; different than the participation trophy every soccer player gets at the end of the season regardless of achievement.
She jumped back on her trainer’s pony and rode him around the round pen with a grin. She looked so. grown. up. With a new happiness, she eased into the saddle and felt at home. I could see the confidence on her face and she found her rhythm.
During her second event she didn’t place. In fact, she didn’t even qualify. A combination of end of the day fatigue and an uncooperative pony, her run was disqualified.
Her joy immediately crashed into disappointment.
“WHY? Mama?” She cried. “Why didn’t they count it? I can’t believe I did so bad! I’m so embarrassed.” She buried her head in my side and couldn’t catch her breath. Angry at herself and half-angry at the pony, she could not be consoled.
She forgot her fourth place ribbon and could only see her current calamity. It had taken over her whole world and she lost the rhythm that she’d found just a few minutes earlier.
“We win and we lose, honey.” Chad told her as he held her around the shoulders. She sobbed into his arm. “I’m so proud of you.” He looked at me. We know that winning and losing is the natural flow of life, that not all of life is the high of the ribbon or the low of the embarrassment. Valleys and mountains. Rain and rainbows. Ribbons and no ribbons.
It’s a hard lesson. Even for me.
Because I’m not sure if even I have found that rhythm of winning and losing. If I can take the bad and the good together and see the fairness and the normalcy in it.
“My life is ending!” I think as I see my current situation loom huge in my heart. I see the bigness of the bad and I lose my rhythm. I forget about the good and the beauty that happened yesterday. Or an hour ago. Or a minute ago.
The bad easily outweighs the good.
But I can’t let it. Life will teach my girls that on it’s own. I just have to be there to help pick up the pieces and hold a disappointed eight-year-old as she feels the embarrassment of defeat.
She’ll find her rhythm. I know she will.
How do you find your rhythm of accepting the bad with the good?
Rhythm. Wow. Okay that is right up there with balance and acceptance….right? Dang. I am so not there.
I was thinking about this last night. I am in a season where I keep receiving undeserved blessings and I am so aware of God’s hand in it but I wonder if I can maintain this sense of peace when the dark clouds roll in…like they inevitably do.
(Hope looks SO GROWN UP. Like I can’t get over it. It has only been 4 months since I was there BUT she is a different girl. CRAZY. CRAZY. CRAZY.)
Wow…we learn so much from our littles, we see ourselves and get that glimpse of what others sometimes see. Perspective is such a gift, thank you for letting me use Hope’s experience to see myself.
great photos Sarah! You have inspired me to take some more creative shots at my daughters next show…and I love the message you shared with this post….how quick we are to allow the bad to outweigh the good…I do it all the time. Must be why we are told to focus on what it lovely…thanks for the reminder!
wow, such a good reminder for me! i know i too often need to find my rhythm and balance rather than going from one extreme to another…holding onto the promises and the blessings and remembering who God is. thanks!
The word shows us there will be mountain tops and valleys. When Im in a valley I do my best to give it to the Lord. Then, I tell myself, “Better things await me”. I’ve learned that as awful as a situation may be, in time it’s ‘power’ decreases until I realize I don’t even remember what all the stress was about. God has my back.
I love the way you get life written down like i am standing right there watching what you are watching and thinking what you are thinking. Amazing story!
crisscrossapplesauce up there nailed it. i think, for me, i draw from a couple of tools i’ve been handed though aa.
such as:
the serenity prayer: god, grant me to accept the things i cannot change. the courage to change the things i can. and the wisdom to know the difference.
‘it is what it is.’
‘there aren’t bumps in the road. this *is* the road.’
bless her heart. what a wonderful gift she’s been given to come into some of that understanding now, no?
xo
p.s. just because i have the tools doesn’t mean i always use them. it’s also very easy for me to act like i know what i’m talking about when i have no idea what i’m saying. i’m sorry that day was so hard for hope.
it’s very easy for me to lose my rhythm. i think it’s just easier to tap into as you get older and life just happens (also an aa adage, ‘life on life’s terms’.) i couldn’t have known that at 8, but i have some understanding of it now at 32.
you and chad are great parents, by the way.
xo
The words in this message that stick out the most to me are, ““We win and we lose, honey.” How wonderfully put, in just six short words.
Thank you both.
everything about this is precious. just when i think i can take the bad with the good, something small and seemingly insignificant catches me off guard and i’ve discovered i never had the rhythm in the first place…but it’s in these “little” moments that God demonstrates the true condition of my heart and i need to let him bring me back in tune…
thanks for this!
Sarah-This is the part of being a mom that just doesn’t sit well for me. I don’t know what to say. I want to fix it. I want to make life good, healthy and successful. I want to protect, heal and deliver them to a wife and few kids unharmed. But I can’t. I don’t have that power. In fact in the scheme of life in my little men, I don’t have power over much. And this makes me scared. How can I teach them to find their rhythm if I feel like I have hardly found mine? I have to keep trying and I have to keep trusting.
Because I do get glimpses of hope. Moments of goodness within myself and then I see it in my guys. Today I am thankful for your pictures. Hope is stunning. You must be proud.
Sarah,
I realize this is not on topic, but I have to ask, did you hear back from the woman you sent the letter to in the “fear” video? I have been contemplating a similar letter for quite awhile now and am curious if you know how yours was taken.
P.S. feel free to tell me that it is none of my business!!!!
And we know that all things work together for the good to them who are the called according to his purpose.
I left out a part. And we know that all things work together for the good to them that love the Lord and who are the called according to his purpose.
I still havent’ found my rhythm; I still struggle with it.
Just when I think I’ve got it and it’s all figured out. Everything as I know it comes crashing down. I need to practice keeping my eyes focused up on God, instead down on me.
I loved Kristi’s response!
And I think Monique’s answer works for me too. Focusing on God is usually the fix-er upper I always need.
Yesterday, we had a time like Hope’s. Why God? We were so embarrassed and couldn’t see the good. My daughter is autistic, and 18 years old. She got upset in our 12 x 4 pool, and angry and attacked me. I was trying not to hurt her while defending myself and she was trying to hit, scratch, bite and drown me. It was bad. And nothing like that has happened in quite awhile. I kept thinking during it, that I can never get in the pool with her again. Then afterward, I hugged her a lot, when she’d calmed down, and we got back in the pool for just a bit . . .so she’d know that I would trust her again.
Love and congratulations to Hope and to her wonderful mommma!
Thanks for this Sarah… I think I am still learning to handle the ebbs and flows of life with maturity. Just like Hope I feel I still burst in tears and say, “Why..Why…”
I am learning to persevere and not lose hope.