Have you noticed that God often leads us along unexpected, even surprising, paths? Take my daughter for example. She was always a lively yet gentle girl and we thought she’d make a good nurse because of her care for and tender heart toward others. But then, the summer before Grade 11 happened and she went horseback riding. She was immediately enraptured. It was like there was a gift within her laying dormant which she never knew existed, and was now alive and flowing through her veins.
Before the summer was out, a horse was living in our back field, and Dad was building a barn. Two years later she went to college to become a horse trainer and coach.
I call her a horse whisperer. I’ll never forget the first horse she trained on our property the summer between her two-year college program. His name was Friday. He was fast and feisty and used to getting his own way. She was hired to train him for a young rider. Friday was content while my daughter walked with him and handled him. But when she started lunging him—a training method where the horse, attached to a long lead rope, moves in a large circle—his demeanor changed. Friday calmly began walking the circle my daughter asked him to, but as he approached her he’d turn quickly and kick his hind feet toward her. I watched in terror, holding my breath, as this 1,000 pound beast leaped toward my 100 pound, petite framed daughter.
Then I watched in amazement as she tamed Friday with hardly a word. Each time he bucked at her, she made him stop. “Whooooa.” With a click of her tongue and movements unseen to my watching eye, she coaxed the horse to turn around and start the circle in the other direction. Her voice was as quiet as a mouse; even her “No-oooo,” was tender, barely audible. She held one hand loose on the lead, as the other hand pointed in the direction she expected Friday to move. With a quiet countenance she gently stood her ground unafraid each time the horse challenged her. The determined animal, which a few minutes earlier would have happily killed her, seemed to relax at my daughter’s sweetly spoken “Easyyyy”.
With each turn of the pattern—trot, buck, kick, stop, turn, trot—the horse fought back less and less. Before long he was trotting a perfect circle.
She could have whipped him into submission. She could have tightened the lead, changed the bit to be more forceful, and led him by pain and fear. But she didn’t. Instead she created a safe and trusted space for anxious Friday, and he responded with submission and obedience.
Over and over I have watched my daughter subdue and train horses; over and over I have been amazed at how her gentleness so effectively humbles an undisciplined beast. Now that she is a mom, I see her use that same approach to quell even the tantrum of a toddler.
The way to true happiness is unexpected, surprising. The first sermon Jesus preached during his early ministry was intended to turn the traditional thinking of his hearers (and readers of today) inside-out and upside-down. The Sermon on the Mount begins with eight clear directions to ultimate happiness called the Beatitudes, each one beginning with the words, “Blessed are those….”
Blessed means true and lasting happiness. And as we read through these Beatitudes, we see that biblical happiness is contrary to our normal understanding. The way to genuine happiness grates against our natural bent and we want to flee from it. But if we are to be happy, we must learn the way to such a blessed state.
This post is the third in a series on these Beatitudes. You’ll find the first two here and here. This week we find that those who are truly happy are the meek:
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Matt. 5:5
The Bible uses the word meek and gentleness interchangeably. The original word in Greek is a difficult one to translate into English because of its depth of meaning. Strong’s Concordance defines meekness as a gentleness of spirit, demonstrating power without harshness, having the right or power to do something but refraining for the benefit of someone else.
Contrary to popular opinion, meekness is not weakness—it’s quite the opposite. Meekness is restrained strength. In our day of striving and self-assertiveness, meekness seems to be an anomaly. But Jesus said in the Beatitudes, “Happy are the meek.” Happy are those who are gentle in spirit for the good of others, even when they can be otherwise.
One of my favorite verses in Scripture displays the meekness of Jesus as he calls sinners to himself:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11:28-30)
I can’t help but think about Jesus on the cross when I ponder meekness. He had the power to call a legion of angels to save him and defeat his enemies. He had the right, the authority, and the power to do so. Yet he remained silent, humbled himself unto death, even an unjust death on the cross. He refrained for our benefit—for he had come to save us who are lost.
Our Saviour is meek, gentle, but not weak. No, our Saviour is all-powerful; he holds all power, and is the source of all power. He has the power to save and protect and help.
He is also safe. He calls us to come to him, learn from him, for here only will we find happiness and peace, rest for our souls.
What do the meek receive? They inherit the earth.
“So all the blessedness of heaven above, and all the blessing of earth beneath, are the portion of the meek.” Matthew Henry
“But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace.” Psalm 37:11
Take Up and Read:
Matthew 5-7
Matthew 11:25-30
Matthew 26:47-64
Psalm 37
The Light for My Path 
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