2nd of 5 Come sit with me a while...
- Cynthia Tudball
- Mar 18
- 1 min read
What the Herd Knows Before We Do
Horses read the body the way some people read scripture—slowly, reverently, without rushing to interpret. They don’t ask for explanations. They don’t require polished answers. They simply respond to what is present.
There was a day, deep in that season of unraveling, when I walked into the pasture carrying more tension than breath. I didn’t realize it at the time. I thought I was holding myself together. But the horses knew better.
One by one, they drifted away from me, creating a soft, widening circle. Not rejection—just honesty. They were showing me what I could not yet feel: that I was bracing against life, not living it.
And then, slowly, one of the mares stepped toward me. She placed her warm muzzle against my shoulder and breathed with me until my breath matched hers.
This is the beginning of new patterns. Not effort. Not willpower. Presence.
If your faith feels dusty, if your breath feels shallow, if your heart feels tired—come sit with me a while. The herd has a way of showing us what we’ve been carrying, and what we’re finally ready to set down.
A song to sit with: Samantha Eberts; Flowers
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