Welcome to Buoy, a Life in Deeper Water podcast.

Episode 31. When I was Seven, Jesus Put Me On His Shoulders (and rejoiced)

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Hello human.

When I was seven years old, I got lost on a white horse. The last thing I saw was my brother trotting around the bend on his frisky cocoa ride. I was trailing behind the pack, losing ground quickly on a dusty road winding its way through the August Texhoma sun.

Clippity clop became a real thing that day. My horse wasn’t lost, I was. Comforted by the horse’s rhythm I began to relax my grip and settle into his next step. Every next step, feeling his massive weight shift from right to left underneath me. My fingers relaxed around the saddle horn. I dropped a rein. Though I knew nothing about horses I sensed this couldn’t be good, so I swung my leg over the horn and slid down to get the rein. While sliding down, panic set in. I hit the ground knowing I was too short to get back on. My dad had thrown me up into the saddle.

I was about to start second grade. I was getting new school clothes, a notebook, and pencil box with a built-in sharpener next week. This horse was getting in the way of finishing vacation and starting second grade with Mrs. Unruh. I loved raising my hand and answering questions. But right now, I was in charge of a horse I barely knew, a hundred times my weight and height on a road going somewhere.

I walked in front and slightly to the right of my white horse trying not to think about what he might do.

What if he gets thirsty? What does he eat? Will it hurt if he steps on my foot? What if he pulls loose and runs away, leaving me alone? Where will we sleep when it gets dark? Will he lay down? How will I hang on to him in my sleep? Will I get in big or little trouble if I lose this horse?

I walked on to the pace of his clippity. For a lot of clops.

I tried to sort things out in my head: it’s daylight, not really a scary time of day, I don’t think I am worried, we are still on a road that goes where I last saw my brother, and surely, they have realized I am really not with them by now. But my seven-year-old heart was starting to quiver. I could no longer hear the chatter of familiar voices ahead. And my skin was feeling hot like bacon. Sizzling on the top of my nose, my shoulders, the back of my neck.

I saw that the right side of the road was rising into a small bank, so I started to slow the horse to a stop. I figured I could climb back on from the top of the bank. This was my way to get taller. I could drop down into the saddle. But the bank was crumbly, shifting, and I felt it giving way. I was trying to steady myself, climb to the higher part of the bank, and keep the horse stopped and centered, even with me. The bank caved.

I was sliding into the horse’s belly when I heard my name.
The horse stumbled to the side and grunted. I heard my name again.

My dad was searching but he was not the one who found me. His banker friend Jim did. He was a tall, thick-framed man with a big voice. I hugged him like he was my dad. He laughed to make me feel lighter inside. I was pretty sure he didn’t know anything about horses, but it didn’t matter.

I felt found.

He Leaves the 99

Luke 15: 3-6

3 Then Jesus told them this parable: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.”

And Jesus walks the shepherd’s path of His Heavenly Father. Listen to Ezekial:

11 “‘For this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. 12 As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness. 13 I will bring them out from the nations and gather them from the countries, and I will bring them into their own land. I will pasture them on the mountains of Israel, in the ravines and in all the settlements in the land. 14 I will tend them in a good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel will be their grazing land. There they will lie down in good grazing land, and there they will feed in a rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. 15 I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down, declares the Sovereign Lord. 16 I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice.

Ezekial 34: 11-16:

The first time I can remember being lost, Jesus found me with a white horse. He sent my dad’s banker friend. Jesus has searched for me many times since that day. He has found me, lost in my struggling with a quivering heart on a troubled road to somewhere.

Jesus came for me in high school.
In college.
As a dancer.
As a single mother in grad school with two very young boys.
As a wife, a mother.
A workaholic.
And now, as a witness.

Every time, Jesus leaves the ninety-nine to find me, and rejoices when I am found.

At times I did not even know I was lost.
I didn’t feel lost. Maybe you don’t either.
But it isn’t hard to find yourself on another path. That leads to another, a path that is not within hearing distance of His voice.

Because sheep wander. Jesus left the 99, he left the Pharisees, the temples, the crowds. Jesus found people like the woman at the well, and the tax collector, Matthew, both individuals who had taken a different path. Jesus leaves the flock to find those who have lost their way.

When You Go “Missing”

Some rebel at being compared to a sheep, that sheep are dumb. Sheep are not dumb, but they are defenseless. Sheep have no horns, no sharp teeth or claws, or strong legs. But sheep have good eyesight, powerful hearing, and a sense of smell to detect predators quickly so that they can run and gather together immediately.

They gather to protect each other. The 99.

Jesus is personal in His search for each of us. He counts the flock, and when you go “missing” He comes looking for you.

And about that white horse.

– It was no surprise that I tried to write how my story would go while walking the dusty road. I do that now.
– Little wonder that I mentally jumped to how to take care of a large, looming, animal in the dark, by myself. I drag my looming concerns into dark, mental spaces.
– And that I was clear about what was important to me. Second grade, asking questions, notebooks, learning. I am always clear about what is important.
– That I tried to create a solution, but slid into the hairy belly of the problem. I do that now.

When I was seven, Jesus showed me the joy of being found. He knew I would need it for my path. I have a Shepherd who knows me more deeply than I will ever know myself. His solutions show up with such unsuspected grace. Like my dad’s banker friend. I named this journey “mywitness99” because I want to remember that I am defenseless on my own, because I want to be thankful for when I am with the 99, and I want to be filled with mindful praise for what it feels like “to be found.”

We have the reassuring presence of a Savior that knows the way home. A shepherd who protects us with His life on the path to righteousness.

Imagine hearing what the apostle John personally heard Jesus say.

John 10:14-15

14 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep.