Recently by Libby Haynes

I just love it when I can look back in my life and trace a series of events that alone are seemingly innoucuous, but when I follow the thread, it leads to the miraculous.

A little more than 10 years ago, I accidentally began horseback riding. The guy I was seeing purchased some ranch property in southeastern Oklahoma, and I fell in love with the land. I couldnʼt wait for Fridays to load up the car and head north toward the Red River.

Eventually horses became part of the mix at River Bend Ranch.

Neither of us had any background in ranching, and zero horse sense. Fortunately, the horses that came to call the ranch home were good-natured, given that they werenʼt ridden more than a couple of times a month and that their riders were totally green. So while I enjoyed it, I was never totally comfortable on horseback.

Until Alamo came along, that is.

Alamo was given to me as a gift (not from the boyfriend, who by now had a new girlfriend) as an 11 year old retired racehorse, complete with tattoo on the inside of his upper lip.

No longer welcomed at the ranch, I began searching for new digs for Alamo. Anywhere within proximity to me that had turnout capability - meaning he wouldnʼt simply be in a stall round the clock, but would have access to pasture and grazing - was a small fortune monthly.

I asked a friend, whose ranch house about 90 minutes southwest I had recently helped decorate, to keep an eye out for a boarding facility somewhere near his ranch. He immediately invited me to keep Alamo at their ranch. I tried to explain to him how much I love to ride, how often I ride, and that I felt sure he would not want to see me on his property that often. Ever generous, he repeated his offer, so I accepted.

To say that their hospitality and their friendship in the ensuing years has been a gift does not begin to do them justice. I treasure them for reasons much deeper than any pasture, or any horse, for that matter.

Not only is my horse treated like one of theirs, I have the privilege of coming and going to ride, and even to stay at the "Rock House," which was the main house on the property when they purchased it.

The ranch, and Alamo, have been my sanctuary and my sanity over the past few years.

Owning my business sometimes involves much too much time, in my estimation, focusing on "cash flow," and to be able to get out of the city and appreciate the world that God created for our pleasure brings an element of balance and clarity to my life for which Iʼm so grateful.

I think about those things a lot when Alamo and I are out on the trails. For me, itʼs important to be intentional about appreciating the good things in my life, lest I lose sight of them in the craziness, and the opportunity in Bosque County ranks pretty high on my list.

In that vein, Iʼve realized some lessons Iʼve learned out on the trails that translate pretty well to the city streets.

1 - Horses are "fight or flight" animals. In the animal kingdom, each species is equipped with its own defense mechanism. Horses donʼt have any ability to defend themselves except to flee. When a horse is frightened or threatened, his only thought is to save himself. A rider on his back is not part of the equation because he is only focused on escaping to safety.

The human species is much the same. We all act in a way that makes sense to us. The rest of the crowd is so busy judging others as right or wrong, crazy or sane, that we donʼt often view things from anotherʼs perspective.

2 - Plan your ride, but be prepared for anything. Horses are herd animals, and smart ones at that. Within the herd, they establish a pecking order, and one horse emerges as the dominant one. When Alamo first came to the ranch, every time I rode him I would find bite marks or scuffs on his hide where he had been kicked. As I watched, he developed a strategy: keep a distance, make friends with others, and put on some l-bs to hold his own.

We humans need to employ some strategy, too. Although we like to think that if we do all the right things weʼll live a good life, life doesnʼt always get on board. People are irregular, jobs arenʼt ideal, money is lost, marriages are difficult, illnesses arenʼt curable. If we keep sight of the idea that curve balls often turn out to be hits, too, we can develop the skills to deal with the pecking order.

3 - Put in the time on the basics. No matter how well trained a horse is, he still has to be reminded that you, the rider, are the one giving him direction. Otherwise, he assumes heʼs in charge. So before a ride, it is essential to spend some time working in the arena or pen, reminding him of the cues you use to communicate, and how he is to use his manners and defer to your direction.

Alamo is a thoroughbred/quarter horse mix, and so he is a little bit "hot," as they say in the horse world. Heʼs got some natural energy, or fire. In the winter, it is harder for him to keep weight on as a thoroughbred than it is for quarter horses. A couple of winters ago, the ranch foreman separated him from the other horses in order to give him some high protein supplements and extra alfalfa. After a month or so of living the life of Riley, we headed to the barn to get ready for a ride.

He hates arena work, and truth be told, I find it quite boring as well. So we did it for about 3 minutes, and headed out. He was frisky,and since it was a nice cool day, I didnʼt think too
much about it. We headed down a path to cross a ravine, and as we started up the other side, Alamo took off up the hill in a full gallop. I know that to slow a horse who is not responding you pull a rein to one side to turn him, because he canʼt run in a circle so that slows him. But the path was too narrow for that, so I didnʼt have that option. At the top of the hill, Alamo started bucking like a rodeo bronc, and before I knew what was happening, I was laid out on Bosque County dirt. If pain hadnʼt been uppermost in my consciousness, I would have been a proud rebellious equine mama (maybe). After I caught my breath, I caught sight of Alamo standing a few yards away, looking at me as if to say, "What are you doing there on the ground?"

There is always a price for cutting corners, often a painful one. ʻNough said.

4 - We never know what other critters we might encounter out there. The ranch is
full of all kinds of animals. Regularly we see deer, turkey, hawks, owls, longhorns, as
well as the less appealing hogs, rattlesnakes, armadillos, vultures and more. For the deer,
there are feeders to draw them. They have such an ethereal presence, and itʼs almost
magical to watch them, if you have the opportunity, before they flee. For the armadillos,
there are shotguns waiting to eliminate them. They dig holes in the pastures that lay in
wait to break the leg of a cow or horse.

Mixed in among the people we love are the irregular people, too. As much as we would
like to get away from them, often they are in our lives for the long term. So we have to
figure out how to interact without being poisoned or bitten or gored - i.e., permanently
disfigured - or at the very least, how not to take on their irregular attributes ourselves &
become an irregular person in someone elseʼs life.

5 - Alamo is a tender foot. At some point before I knew him his hooves were filed
back too much, and although he has a great farrier now, he still hates rocky roads. With
every opportunity he heads off the side of the road to softer ground. And usually I let
him. Because Iʼve discovered that he eventually figures out the high grass hides
unpredictable terrain that is hard to negotiate, and heʼd rather just suffer the road.

I find that when the heat is turned up in my life, I look for escape routes; I want the
easiest path. But often that choice just leaves me in the weeds, and if I just gut it out, the
rocky road soon gives way to smooth pavement.

If I had the stomach for gambling, I would bet that Alamo and the ranch havenʼt finished
with my schooling. But Iʼll happily go along, because the learning is a treasure.

Have you ever been humming along in your day, taking care of business, perhaps
putting out a fire or two, patting yourself on the back for your coping skills? And then,
SPLAT! KAPOW! Someone comes along to tell you that you very clearly need a new
skill set for the very things for which you felt so accomplished?

Okay, I know that is a lot of generalization, but I was stung, seriously stung!, that I
thought I was taking care of a problem for someone but in fact, we were on 2 different
planets. Speaking different languages, seeing through different filters. Something like
this:

That could have been me - WHAT? HUH? I DONʼT UNDERSTAND YOU! (minus the
humor).

I heard something recently that has been rolling around in my (already rattling) brain for
a while now that has me re-thinking how I interact with people that might not realize
right out of the box how lovable I am.

In Matthew 4:18-19, the Bible tells us that "one day as Jesus was walking along the
shore of the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers -- Simon, also called Peter, and
Andrew - throwing a net into the water, for they fished for a living. Jesus called out to
them, ʻCome, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!ʼ"

If my purpose is to reflect a light, how often to I fish with the kind of bait other people are
looking for, instead of the default bait I already have in my sad little tackle box? How
often do I really take the time to understand the perspective and the intent of the person
across from me so I can really interact and invest, instead of achieving my goal at that
moment, in that circumstance.

Now, just to be real, I donʼt typically have random conversations with the intent of
bringing someone that moment to my beliefs. But 1 Peter 3:15 tells us to "always be
prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope
that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect."

So maybe I could spend a little more time concentrating on speaking the other personʼs
language instead of continuing to honk at them in mine?

"The goal of the Christian life is to love well. Jesus was aware that true spirituality
included not only loving God, but also the skill of loving others maturely... Growing into
an emotionally mature Christian person includes experiencing each individual, including
myself as sacred, or as Martin Buber, great Jewish theologian put it, as a ʻThouʼ rather
than an ʻIt.ʼ

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality by Peter Scazzero

Iʼm transformed by the hope I have, but to speak with gentleness and respect, whether I
am talking about eternity or talking about a dining table is where I want my focus to be
this Christmas. And beyond.

So Iʼd better add some new tools to my skill set.

My friend Julie is, in addition to being a true gift to me, my go-to girl for all things nutrition. Frustrated by traditional medicine's answers to the everyday ailments and illnesses she confronted being a mom to 3 little ones, Julie began educating herself on ways to keep her family healthy naturally.

So when she speaks, I listen.

A couple of years ago, on advice from Julie, I bought a juicer. And to my great shock, I like the juice.

It's not a new idea. Juice bars started popping up several years back, even traditional grocery stores are carrying fresh fruit and vegetable juices, and researchers are looking into cancer-preventing capabilities of citrus fruits and vegetables like broccoli.

Because juicing removes the fiber that is indigestible, nutrients are absorbed in much larger quantities by the body. When you eat a raw carrot, for example, so much of the nutrients are stuck in the fiber that you only get about 1% of the available beta carotene. But a juiced carrot, fiber removed, allows nearly 100% of the beta carotene to be assimilated by your body. Wow.

Now if cheese was a vegetable, my lifespan would probably rival Methuselah's. Oh, sure, I usually manage to work a salad in most days. And a side of something normal like asparagus or broccoli for dinner maybe. But the ones that we all know have those great benefits - cauliflower, kale, peppers? Nope.

Optimal veggie consumption is 5 servings a day, fruit is 3. Apparently, on average most of us eat 1 1/2 servings of vegetables and often no fruit. We are just not eating enough of them to reap any of their benefits.

So armed with all those facts, juicing helps alleviate my dietary guilt. Well, not
completely, but that's a whole different post.

I started juicing all things that I refuse to eat as a matter of course - beets, all those funky things ending in "greens," carrots. And through experimentation, I found I could add enough things - apple, cucumber - to add sweetness and cut the bitterness of the vegetables.

But my dirty secret is that I just don't love vegetable juice.

Dr. Oz has changed all that, bless him.

I'm not really an Oprah fan, although I do think she has used her celebrity for some great things to help others, but I saw Dr. Oz on her show one day talking about the green drink he has every morning.

Of course, when I saw the ingredients, I had this intellectual reaction: Gross. But when Oprah tasted it, she deemed the flavor, "fresh." I decided to try it.

I'm in love. Plus drinking it in a wine glass gives it a whole new edge.

This is my modified Green Drink.

1 handful of fresh spinach
2 celery stalks
1/2 green apple, peeled & cored
1/2 cucumber, peeled
1/4 tsp minced ginger (I buy the jar)
juice of 1/2 lemon
juice of 1/2 lime
fresh parsley (I like a lot)
crushed ice
1/4 c water

Blend until liquified.

The key for me is the crushed ice and water that make it cold - more palatable - & slushy. And seriously, the taste really is fresh.

But as I drink it, I bring in the big gun(s): visualization. I visualize the chlorophyll moving oxygen around in my body. (Chlorophyll helps improve the efficiency of oxygen transport.) And I think about all the enzymes marching around inside, defending my cells. (Enzymes play essential roles in protecting cells from damage - take THAT, potential cancer - but they are destroyed by heat; i.e., cooking vegetables.)

If we drink things like coffee, tea, soft drinks, alcoholic drinks, artificially flavored drinks, the body uses its water to eliminate substances that they contain. Fruit and vegetable juices have none of those, so they are full of pure, clean water.

Now I'm even getting jickey with it. I add my juiced carrots and beets to it (since technically, the Green Drink is not juiced). My juice knows no bounds.

I feel like a juicing super-hero, my body an unwelcome host for all things disease. Me and Lance Armstrong.

(see the original recipe here http://www.oprah.com)