My mom (paternal grandmother) waited her whole life to own and show horses. Once her two children (my dad and aunt) were grown, she finally began living that dream with two horses.
And then I was born. Mom quit her job, sent Billie Jo, her beautiful white mare to my uncle’s farm in Kentucky, and boarded DoughBoy with friends near us. I remember visiting both horses many times as a child, and riding a few times, but I don’t think I realized what a sacrifice it was for her until recently. I didn’t know why we had beautiful saddles and other “horse related” items in the extra bedroom, or why she didn’t spend more time with them.
Raising kids after your own kids are grown up, is not for the weak. Yes, babies are a blessing, gifts from God, innocent little humans that will grow up and change the world around them. Whether adopting or raising a child born to another family member, you are forever responsible for all the things important to helping that child grow. Some days it’s easy, so days not so much. Somedays you question your sanity and even why God entrusted you with yet another life. And sometimes you get to hear Him speak so clearly that all you can do cry and be grateful for the opportunity to see things you wouldn’t believe if you didn’t actually experience it.
As I’ve mentioned before, at three years old, Alanna became obsessed with all things horses. With no prompting from me or anyone else. She discovered a new cartoon on tv about a girl and a horse. She started collecting toy horses any time we saw them in stores. Mom’s collection of horses have a new home now, on a shelf in her room, all except for one, which she chose to keep on the table next to her bed.
Last night I complained about being cold while I stood outside watching her ride, and laugh with her trainer. She was singing while riding, but I couldn’t hear the song. On our way home, I asked her, “so what were you singing out there?” Her answer, very seriously, “Jesus loves me.”
FearlessHapaGirl 