I want to totally and completely take over a Sunday School class at our church. I recently looked back on my Church experiences and found that I couldn’t remember anything about being in class expect that I hated it, was bored and was sick of the same thing over and over again.

What?

Today is my first day teaching! It’s 11am right now, and I teach at 2:30pm. The waiting is always the worst part for me so I thought I’d write to take my mind off the waiting.

I am fifteen. I am standing in the arena at Spice Creek Stables while five riders circle me, as Bill Richey’s apprentice. I am uncomfortable, and ashamed that I feel this way when everyone keeps telling me what a great opportunity this is. I want to be an instructor, I want a job with horses, but now I am unhappy and I don’t even know why.

This is my life,
this is my world.
The hot summer sun.
the wind’s bitter cold.
The triumphs,
the tears,
the complaints no one hears.
The sweat and the blood,
the sore muscles, the mud.
The children’s smiles,
the weight of their trust.
The circles, the patience,
the praises, the dust.
The first canters,
the thrills,
and the traumatic first spills.