The Bible, The Barn &The Horses: When Treats Turn to Trouble

It started so simply.  My younger mare was new and unsure.  I was new to being a horse owner.  I wanted her to feel safe and loved.  I had even been given this advice from seasoned horse owners “give her a treat every time you see her and she will come to you every time”.  Made sense at the time …until I created a monster.  

Before long, I couldn’t step foot into the paddock or open the barn door without her big beautiful head pushing her way into my personal space…she had quickly learned that I kept her treats in my pocket.  I told myself that I was building trust, but the reality was I was teaching her to expect something from me every time I showed up.  

When the treats stopped, so did her patience.  She pawed, nudged, even nibbled a tad too hard on my arm.  One of the trainers who came to evaluate our newly adopted horses said “I don’t like her attitude.”  It was the kind of shame you might feel when you overhear someone talking about your child’s behavior.  I realized then it wasn’t her fault.  I had built our connection on treats rather than substance. 

So I stopped all treats —cold turkey.  I made her wait patiently for her morning and afternoon hay.  The first few days her behavior did not change.  She was confused, even indignant.  But slowly, Waimea began to see me as a calm steady presence she could rely on.  I saw her trying to please me.  I saw the softness in her eyes. I heard the excitement when she would neigh when she saw me walking across the field …but not because she thought I had a treat this time.  

The Lesson in the Dust

Standing there in the morning fog with my spirited mare, I realized how often I’ve done the same thing in my own life.  I’ve been Waimea — wanting something from God and feeling disappointed when He doesn’t give it.  But maybe, like Waimea, I had confused His ‘presence’ with His ‘presents’. 

God doesn’t always give us what we want not because He’s withholding love, but because He’s teaching trust.  His goal isn’t to keep us pacified; it’s to help us grow steady, faithful, and sure.  

Hebrews 12:11 says, “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace.”

When I now see Waimea’s eyes soften, I understand the parallel of the peace I feel in my heart when I reflect on this verse.  It reminds me that sometimes God’s greatest kindness comes through restraint - the “no” that protects, the pause that purifies, the silence that strengthens. 

Now, when I walk into the barn, my mare no longer searches my hands.  She just looks at me —steady, calm, connected.  The treats are gone, but what we’ve gained is far sweeter: trust, peace, and the quiet assurance that love doesn’t always give —sometimes, it simply is.  

Reflection: God’s love doesn’t always hand us what we want; sometimes it withholds so that we can learn to want Him most of all.