Pastor Paul's Ponderings

September 26, 2024

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  "So how did you get here, I mean to this country?” I asked Beatriz who was from Peru, as she held a hot horse for me while I gave it a bath.

  “I came separately, after Eusebio, he came first and sent money back for me to come” responded Beatriz in decent English. She was a fast learner. In the year that she and her husband had been working for me she had learned a great deal of English, and she helped me with my beginning Spanish. We had plenty of time to chat while horses got their baths.

  “Yes, I know. I’ve heard that many times. I mean how did you get here, como vaije aqui, usted” I tried in my very baby and bad Spanish. I wanted the story of arrival. I knew, or guessed that they both did not have legal immigration status. The documents they showed me for taxes when I hired them looked good to me but I pretty much determined that they were fake as their social security cards both had the same number, even though the names were correct. Our social Security system was getting payments from me every quarter that would never be collected, at least by them. They also lived in the bunk house and were very, very, careful about leaving the backside for anything. They laid low.

  “How did you get here?” I asked again.

  Her face was stoney, hard to read, I could tell she was thinking hard. I wondered if I had put her in a difficult position. I kept quiet for a few more moments then glanced over at her only to see a tear well up in her eye and slide down her face. I changed the subject.

  I later learned from her husband who became a good horsemen but struggled to learn English, that they both had crossed the desert independently. He did not know what her journey was like but he told me a bit about his. It was hard, very hard, and very frightening. He feared for his life multiple times. He said he carried two gallons of water and it wasn’t enough. He and the folk he traveled with got robbed. Twice. Our language barrier was real and I didn’t get the best of the details, but the journey was dangerous and difficult to say the least.

  The Peruvian couple became my last employees. They signed on with me at the opening of Delaware Park one spring and moved with me to Bowie for a winter. Several of the horses I had that winter belonged to Mike Pino who wintered in the south with his better horses and entrusted me to train what he left behind. Now it was spring and sending those horses back would leave me with just a few horses that belonged to a slow pay/no pay client. I was in debt and had no prospects of getting out of it.

  But I had also experienced a call. Not a phone call but a call to ministry that I was struggling with. A possible big change in my life. I was a trainer, a horseman, and all those doors were closing but doors were opening for me to go back to school and become a pastor.

  Beatriz and I also talked about my coming to faith, and my call. I was able to explain to her that had I felt and experienced something greater, more important than winning races, I had experienced the God of love. I also felt a desperate need to share what I had come to know and experience with others.

  Delaware Park had opened and Mike was back, the day came to ship his charges back to him. He was delighted to also have my last employees load on the van and go with the horses: Eusebio and Beatriz. Everything was loaded and before they climbed in the back with the horses (and their meager belongings) we were all crying.

  I had no words to tell them so I suggested we pray—knowing that it would be me who prayed. So well held hands, there on the loading dock, the three of us. And I took a deep breath and searched for words. Before I could begin Beatriz started to pray in English at first, and then switching to Spanish she began to pray and cry, thanking God that I came into their lives and for me having taken care of them, and for introducing God to them too. She also thanked God for a new life in a new country. We hugged and cried and the van driver was in a hurry and ordered them aboard. I waved good bye to my last employees, friends, and siblings in Christ. I also waved good bye to my life as a horse trainer.

  I have been prayed for a lot. I have been prayed over. But I have never felt such a powerful prayer, and maybe blessing too. (Indeed I only understood a portion of what was prayed, but my spirit understood it all). It took me almost ten years to actually become a pastor, and during those years there were numerous occasions that made me want to quit, but I would remember Beatriz charge and blessing, coming from someone so vulnerable—living scared, scarred, and poor—meant so much to me, and was so close to God. I just had to continue on.

  I only hope pray that their lives also turned out well too, but I knew that God was with them and they were aware of God's love for them.

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Grace and Peace,

Pastor Paul