Circus Horses

Recently, I noticed that the circus had come to town. A a child, I especially loved to watch the horses galloping around the ring. There’s a remarkable thing that only very skilled riders can do: one person standing up tall, riding two horses. They’d have one foot on one horse and one foot on the other and balance perfectly while keeping both horses moving in the same direction at the same time. I was fascinated by it. It seemed so easy but is actually incredibly difficult to sustain, especially at speed.

As I looked at the brightly-coloured circus tent and remembered the horses, I felt as if God spoke very clearly and said: “You can’t live with a foot in both camps: following the ways of the world and building the kingdom of God.” I was shocked. I definitely don’t want to do this, not ever. But I realised that in one particular area of life I still try, even though it’s exhausting, stressful, and rarely fruitful.

I was having a tricky time, feeling pulled in several different directions by different people with different agendas. It was hard to see where to go. I understand how important it is to set boundaries but, as I lingered with the Lord, I realised He was addressing a subtle, and powerful, dynamic: the setting of internal boundaries as well as external. Here was a new area to submit to Jesus.

There’s someone in my life who pushes my boundaries. It’s a ‘game’ we’ve played for years and I’m good at setting them: on the outside. I put up the boundary. They push. I enforce it. Then there’s a bit of awkward (sulky, blaming, manipulative) negotiation until we establish a place that we both accept. I absolutely do not simply roll over and surrender. On the outside.

But … it still all goes on on the inside. On the inside I’m tossed about emotionally, negotiating back and forth in my mind, feeling alternatively cross or condemned; guilt - or false guilt – having a field day in my heart.

And what that means, in reality, regardless of what it looks like, is that I let the enemy into the secret places of my heart. As I lie awake in the night and do battle with whoever, whatever, is troubling me, it’s as if my inner life is stolen, as the joy in the Lord dissolves.

So, what to do?

 Only Jesus is big enough to bring peace to that arena. The ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ aren’t what really matters. What really matters is that I listen to God’s voice above all others – including my own; that I fill my mind with Jesus; that I allow Him to be bigger.

 I realise that I can’t actually ’discipline’ my brain sufficiently to resolve the arguments satisfactorily. But I can discipline it to look at Jesus. And then He (alone) is enough. Not her. Not them. Not the world. Him. Only He is enough.