I haven’t blogged in awhile.
That’s because I’ve been swamped by preparations for the fair, and then
living the actual event. Now that it’s
over, and I’ve had the requisite day to be ill and sleep it off, I thought I’d
post some musings about my experiences.
 |
| This picture is here for shameless bragging purposes only. |
First, fairs are dirty.
And if you’re in the horse barn next to the show arena, there is a
constant dust storm blowing in your direction.
I would come home feeling like an extra from the movie version of “Dune”. Even worse, I’d blow my nose, and the boogers
were black. Black! I don’t even want to know what was going on
there. The best public restrooms were
still subject to flooding, a lack of paper towels, an absence of soap, and a
general lack of good hygiene. And don’t
even get me started on the piles of poop that I had to skirt on my way between
the horse barn and the rabbit barn…
Next, fair food is creatively disgusting. I know many people get excited about the
food, and there are two things that I look forward to: fair fries and candy apples. My husband and I bonded over a serving of
fair fries many, many years ago on a pre-date (don’t let him tell you it was a
date, because it wasn’t), and the fries
always seem special to me. But when you
get into things like “bacon cinnamon rolls” or “deep-fried Twinkies”, my
arteries start clogging up just thinking about it.
And then there are the ignorant people. Notice I said ignorant, and not stupid. Please remember that “ignorant” simply means “uninformed”. So I’m talking about the parents who take
their kids through the horse barn, pick them up, and allow them to thrust their
arms into the stalls to “pet the horsey” without knowing anything about the
horse’s disposition. Umm, some horses
bite. Especially at fair, when they're all a little crabby and out of sorts.
But then there are the sweet little kids and the adults with
genuine affection for the animals. These
are the ones who stop and ask about the animals, who ask permission to touch,
who express interest in the animal as a special creation instead of a tool to
be used. The children who look with awe
at Carina’s huge Paint horse, with his bi-colored eyes, and dream of riding
something so majestic themselves. The
adults who look longingly at Blue, and talk about the days when they used to
ride, and the affection they had for their horses.
I think that for the soul who is willing to take a moment,
the spirit who is willing to focus beyond him/herself, the part of the fair
that is so amazing is the animal barns.
So many children have spent huge amounts of time raising and
training all sorts of animals. I would
see young girls curled up in the stalls, taking naps with their calves,
children petting their goats, boys shearing their sheep as they stood quite
content, children expressing all sorts of affection for their animals. And these animals knew their master, were
comfortable with their master, felt safe with their master.
I
am the Good Shepherd. I know my own
sheep and my own sheep know me. In the
same way, the Father knows me and I know the Father. I put the sheep before myself, sacrificing
myself if necessary…This is why the Father loves me: because I freely lay down
my life. John 10:14-17(MSG)
If even a small child knows how to nurture and care for God’s
creatures, how much more does our Father care for and love us!
Yes, and through His care and love, I’ve survived the fair! (barely) Thanks to all the friends and family whose
visits, texts, emails, and prayers made this week possible. I think I’m still sane. Or at least as sane as I was before this
week, which isn’t saying much, I know…
