The Runaway Pony and God's Provision

The Runaway Pony and God's Provision: Building Memorial Stones

When Joshua took command as Israel’s leader, succeeding Moses, a question undoubtedly arose in the hearts of the people—and perhaps even in Joshua’s own. Would the Lord be with Joshua as He was with Moses? Would Joshua hear from God as Moses had? Would he be faithful to lead?

Though God had promised His presence, the fulfillment of that promise required Joshua and the entire nation to step faith. Knowing their hearts and sensing their uncertainty, the Lord provided not only a path forward but also a miracle—one that mirrored the parting of the Red Sea.

As soon as the priests carrying the ark of the covenant stepped into the Jordan River—then at flood stage—the water stopped. The Jordan at flood stage would have been 20 miles long, two miles wide and around 150 ft in depth. [1] Scripture records:

“The water flowing downstream stood still, rising up in a mass that extended as far as Adam, a city next to Zarethan. The water flowing downstream into the Sea of the Arabah (the Dead Sea) was completely cut off, and the people crossed opposite Jericho.”— Joshua 3:16 (HCSB) 

Just as their forefathers had crossed the Red Sea on dry ground, so the people of Israel now crossed the Jordan River on dry land. After the crossing, God instructed Joshua to take twelve stones—one for each tribe—and build a memorial.

The Purpose of Memorials:

From Joshua’s day to our own, memorials have served the same purpose: to remind. They stand as visible testimonies of God’s provision, protection, and power. For Israel, the stones proclaimed that the same God who had delivered them from Egypt was still with them. For us, memorials remind us that God is still present, still faithful, and still mighty to save.

Such moments call us to thankfulness, anchoring our hearts in the truth that God is greater than our circumstances. Yet before the miracle came the act of faith—the priests had to step into the river before the waters parted.

So it is in our lives: we often have to step into the flood before God reveals the dry ground beneath our feet.

Runaway Pony:

Most of you know my friend TD, a professional barrel racer who trains and competes in rodeos and futurities. She owns two remarkable horses—a mare named Remilee and a gelding named Flair—full siblings and the offspring of her retired barrel horse, Ruby. Remilee, the older, is steady and seasoned, while Flair, younger by several years, was still being “seasoned”—trained and guided toward his full potential.

One afternoon, TD took Flair out about a mile from the house to work on his barrel pattern. After finishing the exercise, she started back toward home. But suddenly, something unseen startled Flair. In an instant, the calm rhythm of training turned into chaos. Flair began to buck wildly, and with no warning, TD was thrown—lifted from the saddle into the air, gravity pulling her down hard toward the ground.

At our age, a fall like that is unpredictable and dangerous. The risk of broken bones is high, and even worse, if a rider’s foot becomes trapped in the stirrup, a runaway horse can drag the rider for miles.

But that day, God’s provision showed up in a chain of miracles. TD landed in a clearing of sand and sagebrush—not on rock, not in cactus, but on soft ground. Her boot came free from the stirrup just as Flair bolted, racing toward the barn. Though bruised and sore, TD quickly realized she was alive, mobile, and without broken bones. Then another realization hit—she had left her phone at the house.

She could walk home, but her concern shifted to Flair. Runaway horses flee from fear, not rebellion. Like us when we face unexpected chaos, they panic and run without thought for safety or direction.

TD’s mind filled with concern. The barn gate was open. If Flair reached it, he could escape to the highway. The thought of him colliding with a distracted driver—or falling on asphalt—was terrifying. Even his own equipment now posed danger. Saddles, stirrups, reins—all tools of guidance—can become hazards when panic takes over. If a rein or stirrup caught on a fence or tree, Flair could easily injure himself or worse.

As she began the long walk home, TD prayed. She prayed for protection over Flair—entrusting him to the One who had created him. Flair was typically calm and good-natured, but fear strips away reason. TD’s only hope was in the Lord’s steady hand.

When she finally reached the barn, she saw Flair standing near the fence. Relief washed over her—he had not found the open gate—but her relief quickly turned to alarm. Flair stood still, calm and waiting but entangled in the barbed wire. TD approached slowly, speaking softly, her hand on his neck, soothing him. She then looked up and realized he hit the fence full force breaking some of strands which recoiled around his legs The miracle? He stood quietly with no gashes across his chest or anywhere on his upper body. As she continued to assess his condition, she looked at his legs, and the only noticeable injury were a few minor cuts around his fetlock and pastern and only one tiny drop of blood. How did a frightened horse run into a barbed wire fence and come out unscathed? TD responded, "So, honestly, the biggest miracle is the heavenly protection that either stepped him out of a tangled five strand barbed wire fence unscathed or protected him from the recoil.”

Once Flair was free, TD led him to the barn, removed the tack, and placed him safely in his stall. Then she paused, overwhelmed with gratitude, and began to pray—thanking God for His protection over them both.

Later that day, TD and I spoke for over an hour, recounting the miracles in detail—the soft sand instead of rock, her foot released from the stirrup, a calming of Flair rather than panic, the small superficial cuts over a severe injry. As we talked, I told her about my recent study of Joshua 3–4—how God commanded Israel to build a memorial of twelve stones so that future generations would remember His deliverance.

TD smiled and said "I found Flair standing near the green pipe gate. Donny (her husband) had to bring out the BIG equipment to repair the fence and gate. And so they re-built the fence and added a large iron gate with a an emblem of a mare and two foals as a monument. Prayerful His Word and promises are received every time the gate is opened and closed.”

The Memorial Gate:

Faith at Flood Stage:

Like Flair, when life “spooks” us—when trials rise suddenly, when fear grips our hearts—we’re tempted to run instead of pray. But God calls us to trust Him even when the river is at flood stage. Whether we walk across on dry ground or swim against the current, His promise remains:

“Do not fear, 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 the rivers will not overwhelm you.”— Isaiah 43:1–2.

The Israelites built their memorial so that every generation who passed by would see and ask, “What do these stones mean?”—and the story would be retold, glorifying God again. Years later, TD’s Memorial Gate will stand with the same purpose: to declare, “The Lord is faithful still.”

This Thanksgiving, take time to remember God’s provision in your own life. Maybe it’s not twelve stones from a riverbed—but perhaps it’s a framed verse, a photograph of a place where God carried you, or a note in your Bible marking a moment of grace. Take time to ask the Lord to help you make a memorial to Him, for all honor, glory, and power are due Him. Give Him the praise and thanksgiving He deserves for all the rivers you have crossed, or the runaway ponies who returned home by God's grace.

[1] Holy Land Site, Jordan River Crossing into the Promised Land. www.holylandsite.com