She grasps blades of green, rough grass between her finger tips.  Timid and anxious, she refuses to feed that horse.  Oh she wants to.  She slowly moves her hand forward, little by little.  As the horse sniffs and snorts she jerks her arm back with one sweeping motion.

I’m like that little girl.  I so want to step out and experience new adventures, but I’m apprehensive.  Tiny, little baby steps forward, and then one sweeping jump backwards.

I show her how easy it was.  “Just keep you hand flat, and the horsey will lick the grass right off your hand!”  I tell her.  She takes a few steps back, yet again, head down.

My Heavenly Father is the same way.  He shows me, hand reached out, that it will be okay.  I watch, and still, I stumble backwards, head down.  I want to trust Him completely and utterly.  Where He reaches out His hand to the poor, I want to follow.  Where He moves, I will move.  Where He goes, I will… confident, courageous, … fearless.

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