In 2011, there was a movie titled "Warhorse". I didn't see it, but I've read that it was pretty good. That, however, is not the subject of this Post. Here I'm sharing a metaphor that came to mind several years ago, long before the movie. I don't recall now what stirred the metaphor to life, but I do know that God was in it and that He used it to speak to my heart. I'm certainly no expert on horses or on warhorses, for that matter, so if my historical accuracy is a little off, please bear with me. It's my metaphor, after all.
Let your imagination run back to a time long before rifles, machine guns, tanks, and airplanes. Back before there were muskets and muzzle-loaders and long-rifles and any of the early devices that used gunpowder. Go back to a time when a battle between armies was hand-to-hand, up close and personal, with sword and spear. The long-range weapon was the bow and arrow. Soldiers on horseback and soldiers in chariots ruled the battlefield. Yes, there were armies that used elephants in battle, notably by Hannibal as he led Carthage in battles against Rome. But this isn't about elephants.
The Old Testament tells us about King Solomon's large numbers of horses and stables and chariots. Roman soldiers and horses are often depicted as both wearing some kind of battle gear. In the mythical days of Camelot, Knights rode into battle wearing their armor, their horses also wearing some protection. These weren't regular, everyday horses. They weren't plow horses. They weren't family pets. They didn't pull the carriages of the wealthy. No, these were warhorses, bred and trained for battle.
Warhorses were valuable. Imagine now what Solomon's stables must have been like. His armies depended on their warhorses. The horses had the best food, the best pastures, the best training, the best exercise yards, the best saddles and armor. Look now and see them, young and vigorous, able to run like the wind for miles, amazingly strong and fit with powerful legs and necks, aggressive and snorting, if they could, fire from their nostrils, proud and fierce.
Imagine some stables and pastures a little way off across the field. They were nice, but not as nice as the prime spots for the young horses. These stables and pastures were quieter, a bit more sedate. They were the retirement home for the old warhorses. I imagine what one of the old warhorses may have looked like. Half an ear chewed off, nearly blind in one eye, scars from old wounds scattered across his face and body. A gimpy leg or two, a bit of arthritis in his hips, teeth not in the best shape. He's lost a few steps and can't run nearly as fast or as far as he used to. He sleeps more now and takes a while to work out the kinks when he wakes up.
When it came time to go to battle, the young warhorses were primed and ready to go, full of spirit and excitement, eager to prove their worth in combat. There were many combat scenarios in which the young warhorses were indispensable, able to use their youth and strength and endurance to great advantage. But you wouldn't know how the young warhorse would respond in a real battle until one really happened.
Despite all of the disadvantages and limitations of the old warhorse, there were qualities he had that the young ones could only aspire to. The old warhorse was young once, but by now he knew things that the young ones hadn't even considered. He knew the feel of the battle, the screams and shouts and smell of death, the clanging of swords, metal against metal, metal against bone and flesh, the blowing of trumpets. None of that scared him or surprised him. He knew how to respond to the slightest movement of his rider. He knew what it was like to go shoulder to shoulder both with and against other horses and riders. He knew what it was like to be struck and cut and bitten and spurred, to push past the point of exhaustion. The sight of his own blood didn't frighten him, the taste of blood in his mouth didn't make him panic, loss and separation didn't make him stop or slow down. Thoughts of injury didn't plague him or even cross his mind. He wasn't afraid of his own death. He was an old warhorse, experienced in battle, giving himself to the battle with nothing held back and with no regret.
The young soldiers would want to ride the best of the young warhorses into battle. But I imagine that the old soldiers preferred to ride an old warhorse into battle, knowing the secret strengths of the old warhorse. There were times when an old soldier knew that nothing but an old warhorse would do.
Think of God's soldiers as warhorses. Think of yourself as God's warrior, as God's warhorse. Many of God's battles need the young warhorses. But there are some of God's battles for which only the old warhorse will do. Our Eternal King has put a lot of time and effort into turning some of his young warhorses into old warhorses, experienced and wise in the ways of battle, able to give themselves to the battle with nothing held back and with no regret, not afraid of their own deaths, in nothing terrorized, fighting with God's army for God's cause.
This is all metaphor, of course, because Scripture tell us that our battle is not against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). Our battle is spiritual, but it's just as real. If you are a young warhorse or an aspiring warhorse, give yourself to the training and preparation and spiritual battles that God has for you in this season of your life. Know also that He is slowly, bit by bit, training you to be an old warhorse with all of the special qualities that only an old warhorse has.
In Acts 9, the Apostle Paul is the epitome of a young warhorse. Many battles later, by the time he wrote his letter to Philemon and the 2nd letter to Timothy (Paul's last letter, or at least the last one that we have today), Paul had been transformed into an old warhorse. The Apostle Peter is often portrayed as brash -- typical of a young warhorse -- but by the time he wrote the letter we know as II Peter, he, too, had been transformed into an old warhorse. Amazing stuff, all of it. But you don't have to be old to be an old warhorse. And just because you're old doesn't automatically make you a warhorse.
If you are an old warhorse, rejoice that God still has battles for you to fight. If you feel useless and put out to pasture, it wasn't God that put you there. See what He has for you to do. Maybe your battles in this season will involve mentoring a young horse, giving wise counsel, and deep, heartfelt, powerful, and effective prayer. Yes, especially effective prayer, praying into existence the things that are on the Lord's heart. If there's nothing else you can do, you can pray. If you're going to be one of God's old warhorses, be the best one you can be. He has put a lot of time and effort into you. Let His work bear the fruit it's supposed to in this season of your life.
Let your imagination run back to a time long before rifles, machine guns, tanks, and airplanes. Back before there were muskets and muzzle-loaders and long-rifles and any of the early devices that used gunpowder. Go back to a time when a battle between armies was hand-to-hand, up close and personal, with sword and spear. The long-range weapon was the bow and arrow. Soldiers on horseback and soldiers in chariots ruled the battlefield. Yes, there were armies that used elephants in battle, notably by Hannibal as he led Carthage in battles against Rome. But this isn't about elephants.
The Old Testament tells us about King Solomon's large numbers of horses and stables and chariots. Roman soldiers and horses are often depicted as both wearing some kind of battle gear. In the mythical days of Camelot, Knights rode into battle wearing their armor, their horses also wearing some protection. These weren't regular, everyday horses. They weren't plow horses. They weren't family pets. They didn't pull the carriages of the wealthy. No, these were warhorses, bred and trained for battle.
Warhorses were valuable. Imagine now what Solomon's stables must have been like. His armies depended on their warhorses. The horses had the best food, the best pastures, the best training, the best exercise yards, the best saddles and armor. Look now and see them, young and vigorous, able to run like the wind for miles, amazingly strong and fit with powerful legs and necks, aggressive and snorting, if they could, fire from their nostrils, proud and fierce.
Imagine some stables and pastures a little way off across the field. They were nice, but not as nice as the prime spots for the young horses. These stables and pastures were quieter, a bit more sedate. They were the retirement home for the old warhorses. I imagine what one of the old warhorses may have looked like. Half an ear chewed off, nearly blind in one eye, scars from old wounds scattered across his face and body. A gimpy leg or two, a bit of arthritis in his hips, teeth not in the best shape. He's lost a few steps and can't run nearly as fast or as far as he used to. He sleeps more now and takes a while to work out the kinks when he wakes up.
When it came time to go to battle, the young warhorses were primed and ready to go, full of spirit and excitement, eager to prove their worth in combat. There were many combat scenarios in which the young warhorses were indispensable, able to use their youth and strength and endurance to great advantage. But you wouldn't know how the young warhorse would respond in a real battle until one really happened.
Despite all of the disadvantages and limitations of the old warhorse, there were qualities he had that the young ones could only aspire to. The old warhorse was young once, but by now he knew things that the young ones hadn't even considered. He knew the feel of the battle, the screams and shouts and smell of death, the clanging of swords, metal against metal, metal against bone and flesh, the blowing of trumpets. None of that scared him or surprised him. He knew how to respond to the slightest movement of his rider. He knew what it was like to go shoulder to shoulder both with and against other horses and riders. He knew what it was like to be struck and cut and bitten and spurred, to push past the point of exhaustion. The sight of his own blood didn't frighten him, the taste of blood in his mouth didn't make him panic, loss and separation didn't make him stop or slow down. Thoughts of injury didn't plague him or even cross his mind. He wasn't afraid of his own death. He was an old warhorse, experienced in battle, giving himself to the battle with nothing held back and with no regret.
The young soldiers would want to ride the best of the young warhorses into battle. But I imagine that the old soldiers preferred to ride an old warhorse into battle, knowing the secret strengths of the old warhorse. There were times when an old soldier knew that nothing but an old warhorse would do.
Think of God's soldiers as warhorses. Think of yourself as God's warrior, as God's warhorse. Many of God's battles need the young warhorses. But there are some of God's battles for which only the old warhorse will do. Our Eternal King has put a lot of time and effort into turning some of his young warhorses into old warhorses, experienced and wise in the ways of battle, able to give themselves to the battle with nothing held back and with no regret, not afraid of their own deaths, in nothing terrorized, fighting with God's army for God's cause.
This is all metaphor, of course, because Scripture tell us that our battle is not against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). Our battle is spiritual, but it's just as real. If you are a young warhorse or an aspiring warhorse, give yourself to the training and preparation and spiritual battles that God has for you in this season of your life. Know also that He is slowly, bit by bit, training you to be an old warhorse with all of the special qualities that only an old warhorse has.
In Acts 9, the Apostle Paul is the epitome of a young warhorse. Many battles later, by the time he wrote his letter to Philemon and the 2nd letter to Timothy (Paul's last letter, or at least the last one that we have today), Paul had been transformed into an old warhorse. The Apostle Peter is often portrayed as brash -- typical of a young warhorse -- but by the time he wrote the letter we know as II Peter, he, too, had been transformed into an old warhorse. Amazing stuff, all of it. But you don't have to be old to be an old warhorse. And just because you're old doesn't automatically make you a warhorse.
If you are an old warhorse, rejoice that God still has battles for you to fight. If you feel useless and put out to pasture, it wasn't God that put you there. See what He has for you to do. Maybe your battles in this season will involve mentoring a young horse, giving wise counsel, and deep, heartfelt, powerful, and effective prayer. Yes, especially effective prayer, praying into existence the things that are on the Lord's heart. If there's nothing else you can do, you can pray. If you're going to be one of God's old warhorses, be the best one you can be. He has put a lot of time and effort into you. Let His work bear the fruit it's supposed to in this season of your life.
Dear Bro. Mark,
ReplyDeleteAmen - And I agree with you, irrespective of our current situation or circumstance, God has something good in store for His children...
Greetings,
Paul