The Grass is Always Greener Under the Grandstands

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Ike was my husband’s rodeo clown mule.

Yes, we had Mike and Ike. In the picture above, you can see the former treating the latter to a cowboy pedicure.

A few years earlier, Mike’s uncle Charlie Booth saved Ike from the killer-pen because he knew good horse+ flesh when he saw it. The little mule turned out to be a great rodeo-parade and grand-entry mount.

Narrow and neat, he was a nice looking fella who once won the Delta County Mule Race in Hotchkiss, Colo., because he didn’t weigh 1,200 pounds and wasn’t carrying a heavy roping saddle like all the other entrants. Our 14-year-old son, Chad, rode him with a bareback pad and his ball cap turned around backwards which made some of the locals think we’d hired a jockey.

Those Delta County mule men weren’t happy about the clown’s mule (bell-cut tail and all) riding off with the coveted hand-carved trophy.

Ike may have had some thoroughbred in his blood, but he was good at other things besides running. Like getting stuck under the bleachers.

That’s a trap you have to work at to get into.

And your owner has to work at getting you out.

I think most of us can relate to Ike. Sometimes we go out of our way to get into a fix. We should be smarter, but we’re not because the grass is always greener under the grandstands.

Unlike Ike, I can usually read the warnings, yet I plow ahead anyway thinking it just might be worth it.

It never is.

Ike wasn’t thrilled about being hog tied and dragged out beneath the cross struts and supports of the rodeo bleachers, and I’m usually a little worse for wear after God gets me out of a storm.

But He loves me, and that’s why He cares enough to drag me out of the messes I get myself into. Not only am I redeemed, I’m repeatedly rescued.

And I’m awfully grateful that He doesn’t just leave me behind to starve to death under the bleachers.

You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay. (Psalm 40:17)

~

The grass is always greener under the grandstands.
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Redeemed and repeatedly rescued.
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A cloud scuttled across her face.

He read the signs, and another maverick thought circled his good sense. This time he followed it. “Forgiveness is hardest when it’s ourselves that need forgiving.” ~An Unexpected Redemption

 

 

 

 

 

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