Scars are a sensitive subject. Whether it be physical scars, or emotional scars, they leave damage either way. Many of us try and hide our scars, thinking they make us less beautiful, or are just an eyesore. We compare ourselves to those around us with seemingly flawless skin, or wish that they hadn’t happened to us. Emotional scars are especially deep when dealing with trauma in the past, emotional abuse, physical abuse, or loss.
A scar is permanent. I used to feel that scars were ugly, and I hated when I got a new nick on me, etc. But as time has gone by in my life, I have learned to embrace the scars as part of who I am. I have gone through a lot of emotional loss, and loss of family and friends in my lifetime, regardless of the reasons why it happened, it still left a mark behind in my heart. I learned that when the Bible talks about forgiving Seventy times seven, it’s not just forgiving a person for repetitively hurting you, but maybe perhaps you have forgiven, but then something comes up a few months later and old feeling surface, and you pray and ask God to help you forgive them again. You Forgive time and time again for the same offense. Wouldn’t it be nice to just forget some things?
I have spent a lot of time researching and praying about forgiveness, and reading into the Scripture about it. Dealing with foster children, and having adopted children from foster care, we also see a lot of emotional scarring and sometimes years later, old things come up on a moment’s trigger. After all my research, and studies and personal journey, I have come to the conclusion that scars don’t define you. They don’t make you less beautiful. In fact, they help shape you into the person that God wants you to be. Every circumstance that you experience, can further be used to help someone else who may be going through the same thing. You may be their only light and their only person who they can relate to.
Each scar has a story to tell. I have scars from getting into a tangle with a horse and some barbed wire, I have a scar from an evil cockatoo latching on to my shoulder and my thumb. I have a scar on my lip from Louie when we were starting to break him to ride, where I bit through my lip when he reared and hit me in the face twice. I have a scar from having a skin biopsy done, and scars from chicken pox as a child. I have a scars from running into a glass door, racing my sister, and shattering the glass. These are all physical scars. There are emotional scars that no one can see except for myself and Jesus. Those scars, although not visible on the outside, may show up occasionally through reactions, and emotions, and a lack of trust on occasion.
On the subject of scars, let me tell you a little about Warrior. In August 2020, we were at the sale, sitting in the loose pen auction. I had come to the sale a little late, and didn’t really get a lot of time in the back where the loose pens are, but I was there for the loose auction. The horses are in the ring for less than 30 seconds. They don’t have an introduction, they just shout out mare or gelding, and hopefully that’s right. Their weight is on the screen along with an approximate current bid. You have a short amount of time to make a big life changing type decision. The sale was in full swing, and one horse exited the ring, and the next one came into the ring. It was a gray thoroughbred covered in whip marks, and bites. He was sad and scared, and beat to pieces. His knees were a little large. When he walked into the ring, you could hear the reaction of the crowd as everyone was murmuring and a quick gasp when they first saw him. He looked terrible. I remember hitting my husband on his arm when he looked at me saying we need to buy that horse. I had to save him.
Number 551. Covered in scars, afraid, somewhat thin but not bad, and very not trusting. My husband got the winning bid on him, and we were so excited to bring him home. A man walked over after winning his bid and handed me his jockey club papers. Turns out this poor beaten up gelding was a successful race horse named Poker Player, having won over $214,000 on the track. A war horse. Yet somehow he ended up here in the sad condition that he was in.
Our friends Shannon and Rexall were with us at that sale, and Rexall told us he would have bought him if we didn’t. It worked out so they were able to bring him home with them and really pour the love and healing into him that he needed. At first he liked to crash through their fences like a typically OTTB. But Rip grew friendlier every day and calmed down little by little. He had a wonderful home with them.
A lot of people, especially people who show horses, don’t want a scarred up horse. They want a nice flawless animal. Rip, as named by Shannon and Rexall, was covered in scars, and likely would have permanent scars. Not only was he dealing with the physical scars, but also the emotional trauma of changing from life as a race horse, to normal horse life, to being probably bounced around through a few traders, and going through a loose pen auction. He was a lost soul all around. He really needed their healing time.
Fast forward to nearly a year later, my horse passed away this summer. She left a big hole in my heart. I was frustrated, doing horse chores, and having so many horses to care for, but not having my own that I clicked with. I didn’t know what I wanted and was just casually feeling out horses as they came through our property. When Rip’s owners contacted us about buying him back, we initially thought he would be a good horse for a free lease to be able to give a young teen who couldn’t necessarily afford to buy a horse the opportunity to have a decent horse to ride. We planned on putting training on him and maybe doing something like that with him. It became very evident, very quickly though that Rip was no ordinary OTTB. His owners had gotten busy with work and didn’t have the time to ride him as needed, and sometimes he could be a bit forward and she had some bad ankles and had a hard time with him. The first time I rode him, I rode him around our entire property. He was sweet and gentle, and kind and very enjoyable.
I have never loved OTTBs… My daughter loves them, and my husband loves to train them. At first I thought he was too tall. A nice horse, but not the one for me. I had someone who wanted to come and see him and they came and tried him out. Before they arrived, while driving to the farm, I was reflecting on what a good horse he is, and I felt sad about the thought of him leaving, but it was already scheduled, so I prayed about it, and said God you know what horse is the one for me. If it’s Your will for him to stick around here, then you know what’ best. I watched as the girl tacked him up, and rode him all around the property, and rode him through the gate and out to the road. I watched as she walked, trotted, and loped him and he picked up both leads, and thought for sure he was going to go home with her. She had recently lost her heart horse, and got emotional into his visit, and realized she just wasn’t ready for a new horse yet. Even though he behaved like a perfect gentleman.
I was happy she didn’t take him and I realized just how happy I was standing in the corn crib while it was pouring down rain with the big white goofball unicorn. Suddenly I remembered that prayer, and realized, I had found my horse. Some people think Go doesn’t care about small things like that. But God cares about what makes you happy. If it’s important to you, it’s important to God. Because He loves you more than you can fathom.
Warrior is what I named him. Because when I look at him, I’m looking at a fighter. I’m looking at a horse whose scars should have made him not trust people anymore, but he chose to give people a second chance. I’m looking at a horse, who won over $200,000 on the track running his heart out, only to end up in a kill pen auction at eight years old.
His scars remind me of where he came from, but they don’t define him. The things that define him, is what he has become despite the scars. He has become an amazing, loving horse. He can be a goofball and make people smile on their roughest days. He likes to escape his pasture and try and help himself to a breakfast buffet by removing the top of the grain barrel. Warrior LOVES to be petted and talked to, and will come running to you when you come to see him. He loves to be brushed down and fly sprayed, and will yawn big yawns and take a nap during grooming sessions. He is rarely impatient. If Warrior gets out, he will walk over just to be with you. He lets my boys ride him double, and any of my kids could ride on him, without me being concerned for their safety. I know he will take care of them. Warrior, shows what it means to forgive and to love.
Maybe you have scars too, physical, or emotional. Those scars do not define you, nor do they limit the great things you are capable of doing. The Japanese embrace the broken piece of pottery by repairing the cracks with gold, thus making the pottery a more beautiful, unique piece of art. You can be the same way. If you are struggling with scars, and have emotional baggage you tired of carrying, turn to God and turn to the Scripture. He will make you new if you ask Him to. And you won’t be known for your scars but, but they will shape you into who you can be, and you in turn can help someone else see the beauty in their own scars. God can use a scarred up vessel, or a cracked pot. God can use a goofy horse to remind you to forgive time and time again and not give up people.
Don’t let your scars hold you back. You are more than the scars you carry. You too are a warrior, meant for so much more than you can imagine.
What a beautiful post.
I am so happy to read that he is doing great. Warrior is a wonderful name for him. Please love him forever, he deserves it. When I saw him in that pen my heart ached for him.
He is such a unicorn!