Still Waters & Strong Horses
Thoughts of a woman of wild spirit, a smart mouth, led by grace, bold horses, and the steadfast love of the Lord.
Hi, I’m Molly Sparrow — guided by a strong faith and confidence in God’s plan, I strive to share His message and the light He has placed in me with others. Though I may stumble on the daily, His grace is abundant, and it inspires me to live with purpose and hope. I’m passionate about horses, life’s adventures, and sharing the moments that make life meaningful. I’ve always loved to journal and read, love to travel and see the world, and have a goal to ride on six of the seven continents on the back of a horse — with four down and two to go. I wanted a place to gather the stories of our wonderfully chaotic life — a life full of wild, beautiful, and sometimes downright crazy experiences. Much of my time is spent training, learning, and understanding the horse’s mind, doing my best by them to prepare them for the real world and their next great partners. It probably doesn’t make sense, but I’ve learned, prayed about, and discovered in my career that any way to pull back the curtain and show that our love for horses goes far beyond the dollars and cents is worth telling. Along the way, we’ve been blessed with customers who have become friends, people we get to share our story with while theirs is shared with us too. I’m blessed to be married to John, a horseman with a strong sense of obligation and a work ethic that inspires me daily. This blog is my corner of the internet to share stories, reflections, and a little bit of the heart behind the saddle. And while no one may read this, I truly believe we all have stories, and whenever they can be told, they hold value.
“Gravel, Bridges, and Miracles: A Horse Delivery Story”
But now, thus says the Lord who
created you, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned. Nor shall the flame scorch you. For I am the Lord your God, The Hold One of Israel, your Savior;
Isaiah 43: 1-3
The other day we were hauling a horse out for delivery, and I swear we ended up in the middle of nowhere — the kind of “middle of nowhere” where your GPS just gives up and says rerouting so many times the word loses meaning. We were hauling our big old 50-footer, though we had more than one horse and weren’t headed to barrel racer land, so the odds were in our favor. The map said we were on a “road,” but it felt more like a winding gravel path carved out by the wilderness itself. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, we rolled up to a bridge that looked like it belonged in some rugged mountain pass where only pack mules with a death wish would cross.
Now, before the trip, the customer — who has since become a friend — had assured us, “The road’s fine, the bridge is fine — don’t stress we haul our big trailer in here regularly." We believed them. Not because we’re naïve, but because over the years we’ve learned that most horse folks know the assignment, and we’ve built a little faith and confidence in scary driveways and mountain passes. Still, when I laid eyes on that bridge, my faith felt about the size of a mustard seed. My knuckles were glued to the wheel, my heart was pounding, and finally I looked at John and said, “Nope. I’m out. If this trailer is going down, you’re the captain.” He smirked his “see you do need me” smirk and slid into the driver’s seat like it was just another Tuesday, (which it was an actual Tuesday) and eased that rig across like he’d done it a thousand times. Meanwhile, I was taking a Snapchat to document my death for my friends with hope they would be sad and not ironically exasperated that this was how I died.
And here’s where God dropped the reminder on me. Life is full of these scary bridges — the kind where everything in you screams that you can’t make it across. But just like I handed the wheel over to John, and had faith in what our friend said, we have to hand the wheel over to God and have some faith in him. Isaiah 43:19 says, “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Even when the road looks like it’s falling out from under us, He knows how to get us safely across.
By the end of the trip, what began as a nerve-wracking adventure had turned into something truly sweet. The horse arrived at his new home safe and sound, we made some wonderful new friends, and even stayed the evening with them — hoping to see them again soon! Through it all, I could see God’s hand guiding us, turning a scary, white-knuckle moment into something wholesome and good. That horse is deeply loved in his new home, and it’s a beautiful reminder that God can take the wild, uncertain paths in our lives and lead us to blessing, joy, and connection.
So here’s the moral of the story: when the road looks sketchy, the bridge looks ready to collapse, and your stomach’s in knots — trust the One who knows the way better than you do. Because if He can guide John to get a 50-foot trailer across a bridge built for mules, He can surely carry us across whatever we’re facing too.
Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness And Rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19