The filly arrived at my place in need of training. After four weeks, she was ready to return home as a gentle, respectful mount. When I called her owner to pick her up, he surprised me by asking if I’d like to keep her as my own. It had been a dry summer and I suspect his feed costs were high. I happened to have a vacant pasture at the time, s...

The death of my sister calls me home to Ohio. The week of her funeral, I find myself driving down the country road to my brother’s farm, the one on which four generations of our family were raised. My mood is somber, but my spirit is buoyed by the faith that resides in the loam of the soil as well as the humble lives that comprise this rural c...

A Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent I’ve trained quite a few horses in my life. Some of them left an impression, literally. Just ask my x-ray technician. I remember, in particular, a colt named Moonshine. He appeared calm when that his owner dropped him off at my place. But the next day, when I slipped a halter across his ears, Moonshine...