King's Corner: A Difficult Goodbye

King's Corner column for April 25, 2025

When my dad, Mark King, was young he worked at dude ranches in Wyoming, herded cattle, and rode in rodeos from the Texas/Mexico border up to Canada. He clearly didn’t like staying put, and loved both the image and lifestyle of the “old west”. But sometimes if you’re trying to live up to the image it can get the better of you.

The rodeo season roughly parallels the tornado season. Around late February or early March activity starts down in Texas and as things warm up the action moves further north until it reaches Canada by July, which in rodeo terms is the Calgary Stampede. Mark decided to leave Wyoming on horseback in late winter and head for the Houston Rodeo, to compete on the rodeo circuit.

And, of course, if you’re going to impress a potential audience you might think you have to look the part. Mark had a high quality saddle that was broken in and comfortable but nothing special to see. He’d saved enough money to trade it in on an impressive looking brand new saddle. This was just before he was going to set off on his 1,500 mile ride from Cody WY to Houston TX. Some friends suggested that was like going on a long hike in brand new boots, but young Mark was confident he could do it in six weeks if he rode 35 miles a day and camped wherever he stopped.  

Just short of the Wyoming/Colorado border he woke one morning with his face being licked by a young, tan-colored dog. He shared his breakfast and from then on they were a team, adding joy to the journey. But each day that unforgiving saddle took a toll on its rider. Vanity became a real pain in the rear end. Mark wore “chaps”, which go over the leg to protect the rider’s legs from the thorny vegetation known as chaparral, but had little to protect his seat and inner legs from the saddle.

 By the time he reached southern Colorado he realized if he’d held onto the saddle he had, instead of indulging his desire for image, he might have easily completed this trip. But at this rate, even if he could arrive, he’d be useless to ride rodeo.

Do you remember the moment you realized you were going to have to say goodbye to a dream?

Some dreams direct our lives, and guide us to achieve more than we thought possible. They give us focus and direction, and enable us to take on the challenges that lie between us and our goal. Those dreams give our life fulfilment and motivation. We live to achieve those kind of dreams. And that’s how we find purpose in life. We embrace the biggest dream we can and somehow find the way to move forward a little bit every day toward that distant horizon.

But with dreams come distractions. How many times have you walked into a room and forgotten why you entered? How often has something else captured your attention and persuaded you to wander that way instead? How often has the temptation of right now stolen you away from your dream future?

That’s where the wisdom of waiting comes in. The patience to persist until you prevail. The temptations deferred until you can achieve the triumphs. The gift of knowing which things to say goodbye to so you can gain your long term goals.

Mark had to take a stand and make those decisions. He couldn’t sit down anyway. The momentary desire to impress others superficially, through a fancy looking saddle, had taken away his ability to impact them through his riding skills. This is the kind of lesson you learn the hard, painful way. And he wasn’t going to be the only one to pay the price, as he had a faithful horse and a now deeply attached dog.

This is one of those moments in life where you sit down – if you can – and have a good talk with God. If you’re not used to prayer, how do you hear him? Have you ever had a thought enter your mind and you swat it away thinking, “That’s not what I’d choose.” Have you had that thought come back later again, and you’re ready to argue with it? You might want to stop and ask yourself just who you’re arguing with.

In very remote areas there were railroad switching stations, where a man inside a small booth was responsible for pulling levers to route trains on one track or another. A lonely job in the middle of nowhere. Mark tied up both animals and went to have a chat with this man, who agreed to buy the horse and saddle, and take care of the dog. He also turned a blind eye to Mark hopping onto a rail car that might lead to Houston.

But for Mark, the hardest part was to listen to the cries and yelps of that dog who so longed to go with him but couldn’t. That sound haunted him for a long time.

Bring your dreams to God and ask him to help you make the right choices, the ones that will fulfil you and get you where you need to go. The best ones will also let you not have to travel alone.