Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons when we least expect it. As someone who's spent countless hours in the saddle, I thought I was the one who'd be doing all the teaching during an afternoon ride with my boys. But God had different plans, using that time to teach both my son and me profound lessons about bridling our egos and embracing humility.
I was watching one of my sons struggling with his horse. Every time he asked the horse to move, it would take off at a gallop, racing through the field. Now, as a dad (and admittedly, someone who takes pride in his horsemanship), my first instinct was to jump in and fix it. But sometimes, the best teaching moments come when we step back and let our kids figure things out.
After watching him struggle for a while, I decided to step in. When I took over riding the horse, it responded perfectly. That's when the excuses started flowing: "Dad, if you do it like this, he'll mess up," or "It's only because of that that he's doing well for you."
You see, horses respond to pressure and energy. It's not just about what you're asking them to do but how you're asking. This experienced horse wasn't misbehaving; he was responding exactly to what he was being given. I tried explaining this to my son, but he was convinced he was doing everything right - it had to be the horse's fault.
Sound familiar? How often do we, as men, as leaders, and as fathers, fall into this same trap? When things aren't going our way, it's so much easier to blame others than to look inward and admit we might be the ones who need to change.
I put my son in the round pen - a smaller, enclosed area where he could work with his horse safely. "We need to work on this together until you understand what I'm trying to teach you," I told him. What followed was a lesson in humility for both of us.
As my son worked with the horse, something began to shift. He started to listen - really listen - to what I was saying. He began adjusting his energy, his pressure, and the way he was communicating with the horse. And then it happened: the horse responded perfectly, moving exactly as my son asked.
At that moment, the look on his face wasn't just about mastering horsemanship - it was about mastering himself. He had to be willing to accept that maybe, just maybe, he was the one who needed to change, not the horse.
True leadership - whether in our families, our businesses, or our communities - starts with humility. It's about being willing to admit when we're wrong, to learn, to grow, and to put others first. Jesus himself modeled this for us, humbling himself to the point of death on a cross.
This experience reminded me of Philippians 2:3-4 “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests but also to the interests of others.”
So let me ask you: Where in your life do you need to embrace humility?
● In your marriage, do you need to listen more and assume less?
● With your children, are you willing to admit when you're wrong?
● In your business, are you truly valuing the input of others?
Sometimes, the greatest lessons come when we're willing to admit we don't have all the answers. And sometimes, those lessons come from unexpected teachers - even a horse in a field on a sunny afternoon.
[Note: Want to dive deeper into building a legacy of purpose and values for your family? Join my 7-Day Family Mission Statement Challenge. Click here to get started.]
