“God, I’m so lonely.”
“ I know the plans I have for you.”
“But… do You mean ME?”
At 40 years old, I had suffered heartbreak after heartbreak and felt as though I was banging my head against the proverbial wall. Only this time, I was so broken that nothing was left but shattered pieces on the ground. Unrepairable, and who would attempt such a task?
The keeper of my heart looked down at the debris and picked up a piece at a time, carefully polishing and gluing the fragments together. They began to sparkle.
My heart had always been lively and full of dance. God knew that until I learned to dance for Him, I needed a safe place to put my heart.
Enter Smokey.
Through hot tears streaming down my face and exposing my pain, Smokey immediately answered the call in the healing process.
He stood tall and confident, his dark hair cascading over his shoulders. My dancing heart fell in love, yet we would meet outside the stone wall until I knew I could trust him. When I got things wrong, he was patient. It didn’t take long before I let him enter the impenetrable wall.
And we danced.
A thousand-pound beast, let me lead. This was new for me, and I was clumsy. He laughed at my lion-tamer approach in the round pen, but that was alright — I had learned to laugh, too.
Laughing with Smokey was a nice change from all the tears he let me cry on his shoulder.
Between the tears and the dancing came singing. He knew my voice. When I went out to the pasture to meet him among the herd, I never had to call out – I just sang our song – a Billie Holiday tune, and he came running to greet me.
As I gained confidence, Smokey and I waltzed together beautifully. I couldn’t see my life without him. As God brought me through the discoveries of my heart and I learned that HE was my True Love, He gave me more than I ever knew to ask.
In His timing, He gave me the one He intended for me – my husband for life. And when Smokey’s owner became sick, God brought Smokey and I together again. My Tennessee Walker left the boarding ranch to have a forever Kentucky home.
Smokey and I both grew old, and our waltz is now more of a slow shuffle, but I will never forget how he taught me to dance.