Gentle Giants


The Scott County Fair had a draft horse show last Friday and we watched the six horse hitches for the mares division. There were ten entries from all over the midwest. At one point there were 60 horses in the arena – all thundering past the stands pulling coaches- the announcer liked to call them “Gentle Giants.” When I stood beneath one who was getting all gussied up before the completion – her mane braided, her tail be-ribboned and her hooves shined – it looked like a spa for horses. Anyway – I stood beneath one of the mares and her lips rested on my head. That’s how tall they are. The winner of that division was Percherons from Cheyenne, WY.   They are Percherons. Black beauties whose breed originated in France. 
Their synchronized beauty, their power and grace move me. Sometimes to tears. Silly me. But there is a theology to them that causes me to wonder. I mean wonder as in speechless. Amazed. A horse can be controlled with a bit and bridle if you know how. But there is something wonderful about the one who will come to you when called without being coerced. That is what God asks of us – to come to him. To not be like a horse that has no understanding but must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come. (Psalm 32:9)