A Thoroughbred Faith

Charles and I spent the weekend in Louisville, Kentucky. Yes, I know the Derby was the week before, but we had business this past week. So, we could not resist touring Churchill Downs. I have become much enamored with horses. Charles has loved horses his entire life, and I now know more than I ever thought I would care to know about thoroughbreds and the whole sport of horse racing.  I can tell you a lot about names like Seattle Slew, Secretariat, Barbaro, and I have seen the grave of Eight Belles. I know who Mine That Bird is, and I am pulling for him in the Preakness, because he seems to have no respect even after winning the Derby.

 

I could try to impress you with more names, but my friends read this blog, and they are already laughing at me. And maybe I should just mention we don’t bet on anything, but we just enjoy everything about the horses.

Seriously, I am amazed at certain things about thoroughbreds. I realize that God chose to compare us to sheep (the dumbest of animals…that’s easy for me to understand) instead of thoroughbreds. But I have to think that there is some encouraging redemptive analogy and even a spiritual lesson in the qualities we observe in both dogs and horses. They both tend to connect in a relational way to people – which I interpret as their understanding – although limited – of some being higher than themselves. They are incredibly loyal, forgiving, and unconditionally loving. 

Thoroughbreds, so I understand, come into the world high-strung, strong-willed, and wanting it their way. It takes a skilled trainer who sees their potential and loves them for what they can become, to patiently rein in their stubbornness, their strong will, and to ultimately win their loyalty and their passion to please. When these magnificent animals take to the track on race day, they are focused – it is no longer about having their way…it is about winning the race….and by this time, they know what the real race is all about. 

Kind of makes me stop and think. 

Family, Food and Skinny Jeans

Charles and I spent Easter in Birmingham with daughters Betsy and Jill. They are part of our personal “flock” of shared children. In my this-is-not-the-life-I-signed-up-for life, the shared children and grandchildren have been a very wonderful gift.

I drove over to Birmingham on Thursday for my oncology appointment on Friday morning. I got a good report and do not have to go back for six months! I had a whole day with Betsy before Jill and Charles came on Saturday. My doctor’s appointment was three hours long and I text messaged her to apologize. We had lots planned for the day.

Betsy’s reply was, “That’s okay. The grocery store stays open till midnight.” I did find myself in Wal-mart way past my bedtime. Strange, but somehow I rose to my daughter’s expectation. She tends to think of me in decades ago context. She did, however, look down at my legs on Sunday morning and let me know that panty hose dated me. I told her, “No. Varicose veins date me.”
Enjoy these photos. Betsy and Jill are both great cooks. Even though I am not, I have my certain recipes that make me look like I can cook, too. I did my famous squash casserole and this potato casserole that I had almost forgotten I had till Betsy asked for it. Betsy grilled the pork tenderloin from Helen Defrance’s At Home Cafe cookbook and Jill baked the rolls from scratch and a to-die-for chocolate cake. We ate well.

As I did my part on Saturday morning and mixed, stirred, chopped, etc. I had to open the refrigerator a thousand times, and I became very aware of Betsy’s refrigerator magnets. I decided you can tell a lot about a person from their refrigerator magnets. She had quite a few and they all make me smile. This is my favorite:

Miracles Happen. Keep the Skinny Jeans.