Free Hope Rising by Kim Meeder Page A

would be able to finish the race—within sight of her parents. I held my breath as he began to trot—twenty yards away from the vet and then back again. The vet’s back was to me; his head slowly dropped as he looked down. I could see Sarah’s wide eyes searching his face for the answer, and then she looked down, too. The vet was scrawling something across her competitor’s card.
    A breeze stirred Ele’s mane over the back of my hands. I glanced at them and suddenly realized that my hands were pressed against her neck in tight white fists. I closed my eyes and exhaled.
I trust in You, Lord
, I mouthed into the fluttering mane.
    I looked up just as the vet finished writing. He held onto the scorecard for a moment, speaking to Sarah. I stared at her face intently, straining to interpret her expression. Suddenly, her beautiful lips spread into a smile. The vet returned her card and gave her a thumbs up. She looked straight at my face. Her expression etched a permanent portrait in my heart. It was a look I’ll never forget.
    We met in a huge embrace. “He passed!” she exhaled into my hair, as if she, too, had been holding her breath. “He
passed.”
    Ele’s heart rate took slightly longer to come down, so Sarah passed the vet check ahead of me. She rode out, with a grinning promise over her shoulder that theywould ride slowly until we caught up.
    When Ele was released, she seemed to eat the course one long-legged bite at a time. At every turn I watched for Sarah until finally she and her gray boy came into view. Our horses drew up shoulder to shoulder and began to prance with excitement. Fueled by their own fiery passion, they galloped up the mountainside like an uphill avalanche. Each breath seemed to fill them with more energy, more desire, and more power. We charged out into a clearing and were stunned by the beauty of the world far below us. In a near unison declaration of joy, Sarah and I whooped and screamed together. Our announcement echoed through the thin high air, ringing with the gifts of life.
    Our horses, faithfully, side by side, climbed until there was nothing left to climb. Then, almost abruptly, a sign announced that the finish was half a mile ahead. We dismounted as before and began walking. Strategically, we allowed our horses’ heart rates to drop, knowing that the race is only finished after you have crossed the finish line and your horse’s heart rate has dropped to sixty beats or less.
    The finish came into view, and we were both suddenly aware of how quiet it was. There were no other horses and few people in a normally crowded area. Hand in hand we crossed the finish line together.
    Sarah’s beaming mother was the first to greet us with open arms. Her father moved in to capture the scene on film through the eyes of a professional photographer, snapping one photo after another while mother and daughter hugged tightly.
    My young partner was glowing, basking in the love of her parents and the incredible effort and sense of accomplishmentthat she shared with her horse. With a brilliant smile, her mother exclaimed while nearly shaking her, “Baby, you won!
You won!”
Sarah’s mouth broke into a wide open smile as she hugged her mom with one arm and her horse with the other.
    It was the best of days, shared with her family and friends … and her horse—her little gray runt whose starved body and heart were restored by the power of her love.
    It was a reminder that every now and then if we work hard enough and dream hard enough something wonderful happens. Hope can
not
be stopped. There are times when the fiery walls of reality are not strong enough, hot enough, or high enough to stop a dream fueled by hope from crashing through. Dreams drive through flames that scar, burn, melt—and forge us into the creatures God wants us to be. Dreams driven by hope, empowered by love, change us forever.
    Of the fifty-two competitors that ran the twenty-five mile race, our little team of rescued horses