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Can we imagine clinging to a horse’s mane while he is galloping flat out over rough terrain, trying to outrun what he seems to think is the old Scratch himself?
Can we imagine holding on for dear life to a cow’s tail while she is madly galloping downhill at a reckless, murderous speed, trying to outrun or escape flying arrows being shot by equally reckless and murderous wild men? Can we imagine being horseback on a pitch black night and being surprised by a two hundred-pound booger thing, pouncing from the overhead treetop?
Can we imagine being a boy on the southwestern frontier in the 1850s? Or are we too far removed from these things and think we are secure in our featherbed society? Do we think the scripture passage from the sweat of thy face applies to us today?
