Free Fierce Beauty by Kim Meeder

freedom.
    When the horse finally makes the choice to stop running—to come to me and stand still at my side—the healing of its brokenness begins. For it is only when it chooses to stand with me that I am able to gently place my hands over every part of its body. By doing so, I put all doubt about me to rest, and the horse is able to physically feel my gift of love and peace.
    Are you held captive by sin wrapped around your heart? No matter how badly trapped you’ve become and how strongly you desire to bolt, you have a Rescuer. His name is Jesus. In the presence of His love, peace, and rest, no shackle can survive.
    Will you choose to hold still and allow the One who made you … 
to free you
?

6

THE WOUND
Our One Hope
    While relocating a horse in need, some of my staff became aware of two dogs that lived in the same crumbling location. Among their other visible problems, both dogs had been starved to half their normal body weight. Kelsie and Laurie decided after much prayer and consideration that they could do more than simply feel bad—they could each make a difference for a dog in need. They returned to the dilapidated residence, and each brought home one of the suffering canines.
    Immediately a sad truth emerged. For these rescued dogs, being savagely thin was not their worst problem. Laurie’s dog had a severe and potentially lethal form of diabetes, and Kelsie’s dog had a very serious injury to her throat.
    The dog Kelsie chose, a Dalmatian mix, was sweet and mostly white with an adorable black patch over one eye. On the day of her rescue, the dog was so ill that Kelsie drove her directly to a veterinary hospital.
    At the clinic the doctor determined that the injured dog was feverish from a systemic infection. He also examined the gash on her neck—a gruesome, gaping three-by-five-inch hole in her throat just below her chin. From the wound seeped a continuous issue of bloody serum and pus. Kelsie was sent home with a sack brimming with powerful antibiotics and detailed instructions on how to administer aid to her new, sick dog.
    On the way home Kelsie reached across to the passenger seat, where her ailing dog lay curled. She gently stroked the wounded animal’s headto comfort her. The feeble dog lifted only her eyes, apparently too weak to move much else. In the moments that followed, Kelsie’s car slowly began to fill with the soft, continuous rhythm of canine gratitude. In glances as she drove, Kelsie watched hope begin to rise within the dog’s ravaged body. In a feeble effort at thankfulness, her tail gently strummed against the seat. And so a new friendship began.
    A week later at the ranch, with a radiant smile, Kelsie announced, “Her name is Dakota. It’s a Native American word for ‘friend.’ ” Dakota’s new moniker instantly became a purposeful banner over her life. Even in her weakness during her recovery, she was indeed a friend to all. Seasoned with multiple veterinary appointments, Dakota’s health slowly began to rally.
    Initially her front legs appeared to be extremely weak and uncoordinated. Unlike a healthy dog, she could not reach forward to hop up a step or spring over an obstacle. I also noticed that she relaxed in a peculiar position. Dakota consistently held her left front leg and shoulder slightly elevated and pulled in toward her center. In this stance she turned her head slightly to the left, with her chin tucked down toward her body. This was not a normal posture for a resting dog.
    Another strange observation was that she was terrified when others were motionless and intently focused on her. I noticed this the first time I tried to steady myself to take her picture. She was content and seemed to enjoy the attention I gave her until I pulled out my camera and turned it in her direction. Her response was to run and hide under the nearest truck. Kelsie and I were left to look at each other and ponder the reason for this peculiar behavior.
    Despite her mysterious conduct,