Panic

It was a beautiful afternoon--warm, but not too hot, with a gentle breeze filling the air with the warm smells of the damp earth. The scent of freshly mown grass and flowers in bloom tantalized him. He was slowly moving through the pasture nipping tender fresh grass along the way.

His sister was nearby and they ate in companionable silence. Working their way around the exterior of the round pen, they could go no farther--they had come to a closed gate. There was so many tender shoots along the fence line that he just couldn't resist remaining there for a while.

The rest of the herd was also grazing nearby. Dad was out riding one of the new horses that had come in for training and was coming toward him. Not paying attention to the movement of the herd, he realized he was boxed in. The boss of the herd was coming toward him. There was no place for him to go. Having eaten all the tender heads, he wanted to move to a different area.

He took a step back and found himself boxed in. Fences behind him, horses blocking his way, new horses on the other side of the fence, dad loping towards him--he panicked. There was no place he could move. The others kept coming toward him. He had to move. There was no place to go.

Terrified, he tried to move forward--the space was blocked. The fence pressed in behind him. Others surrounded him. Where was he to go? Perhaps he could leap and push through the others? His fears grew. He was trapped.

Dad was coming closer. He could hear him calling to the others. Everyone seemed to be pressing in. He panicked. He reared up as he turned and leapt, trying to force his way through the herd.

Pain raked his belly. It felt as if he were on fire. He bucked and kicked trying to throw whatever was hurting him. Dad was yelling at the others. His sister cried out in panic. He was free of the fiery pain. Dad jumped off and ran to the gate beside him quickly bringing the new horse and his sister through, closing the others off in the paddock. How had he gotten over here?

"Joe, calm down boy. It's okay."

Dad called for mom--who walked the door of the house. How had he gotten up by the house? All he remembered was the burning pain along his ribs. The fence--in his panic, he had jumped the fence and it cut him as he crossed it. They spoke calmly and quietly to him. He still hurt, but he gentled under their soothing touch--the panic subsiding. He was safe . . . and loved. His parents would take care of him--tending his wounds.

"Boy, if you hadn't panicked, you wouldn't have gotten hurt. No one was pressing in on you. You had backed yourself into a corner--then panicked. If you had waited, just a minute longer the rest of the herd was moving away. Now look, you've hurt yourself. You've got to trust, boy--you've got to trust."

So often in life, we box ourselves in and panic. Once the terror of panic over takes us, all logical thought is gone and we leap before we think. Instead of taking that extra moment to calm ourselves--we run. If we had only waited for a moment longer and trusted God to provide.

Too often, we panic. God has provision made for us, but we panic instead of trusting God. Those are the moments to breathe prayers, to take the time to think clearly, to listen for the quiet voice of God that is heard in the unobtrusiveness. Those are the moments to wait for God to lead us through those scary valleys of shadows.

When we panic and turn to our own ways, help us to take that extra moment to wait for and listen to you, God. Whisper your calming love to us. Help us not to panic--which only leads to pain. Teach us, O God of love, to listen for your quiet voice and to follow your ways. Open our eyes and our minds to you. So be it. Amen.