t. elizabeth renich

author of historical fiction

Changing My Name

I’m thinking about changing my name to grace – because I certainly need some!  After tumbling down a flight of 16 stairs while visiting my Momma in Minnesota in early-June, all the bruises and aches had pretty much faded away.  Until yesterday, when I took a spill while riding.  I’m still unsure as to what exactly happened, but the horse I was riding (one I have ridden before at Penni’s out in Purcellville) and the one Penni was riding, directly behind me, apparently were not getting along or behaving well.  Moe was being ornery and Zipper bucked.  I came off, hitting the ground on my right side with a distinct thud. 

 Thankfully, John and Zoe rounded up Zipper and several nice people came over to see if I was okay.  The photographer who had been following along on foot comforted me, assuring me he hadn’t been taking a picture at that precise moment, so my gracefulness (or lack thereof) was not captured photographically.  Oddly enough, a few weeks ago after the fall down the stairs, I thought “I’ve fallen off of a horse worse than this before…”  Yesterday, after ascertaining that I hadn’t broken anything, I thought, “Well, that fall wasn’t as far as going all the way down the stairs…”  So, it’s all in perspective, and I’m thankful, yet again, that the LORD covers me with His grace.  It could have been worse.  Yeah, I’ve got aches, pains and bruises (on my body as well as my pride), but I will heal and give God the glory through it. 

The one thing I can take away from the experience – on an absolutely gorgeous day for a ride – was that I have actually ridden – even if just a little bit – over ground where the likes of Stuart, Mosby, and Pelham had been at various times during the Civil War.  It was a day for memories, too.  The first time I ever visited Welbourne in 1998, was when I met Morgan, my most favorite horse of all.  I used to think it would be fun to be able to ride him across land where the cavalry had been…  So, when I was invited to go along on the Welbourne fund-raiser trail ride and had two kind offers to ride horses that were available, I thought I would be okay.  And I might have been, if not for the bucking part.  Unfortunately, I didn’t make it as far as the Goose Creek Bridge, so I will simply be content with the fact that after I fell, I got back on Zipper and walked around (slowly) a little while longer in the “front yard” of the manor house.  All in all, I still had a good time, the money raised went for historic preservation, and the cavalrymen decked out in period uniforms and horse equipment helped history come alive.

 I Timothy 1:14 — And the grace of our Lord was exceedingly abundant, with faith and love which are in Christ Jesus.

About The Author

Author of the Shadowcreek Chronicles


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