A Horse Named Choo Choo

You probably have heard of the Little Engine that Could. It's a classic children's story of perspective and optimism. Even when the task seems too difficult for the larger, more robust trains, the little engine, with a heart full of hope, thinks he can accomplish it, and so he does.

That story came to mind as I stumbled upon the plushy horse named Choo Choo while sifting through a box of things I'd shoved to the back of my closet to "forget about" for a while. He smiled up at me with loving, but melancholy eyes, reminding me of the little boy who'd once hugged him tightly to help sooth away a fever and homesickness, someone who was in my life for just a breath of time, and then out of it again before I had the chance to process what had happened. And, like finding the racecar stickers stuck to the side of my desk and the lost pair of superhero socks dredged up from between couch cushions months before, the discovery of precious, little Choo Choo kicked me like a Clydesdale.

I'm sentimental. I hold onto things and memories for maybe just a little too long.

But when I love, it's made of the genuine kind of quality stuff that doesn't die easily, even when forced into a box and neglected for a time.

Sure, the thoughts and emotions that grew for people who are now in my life only as memories soften over time, but they are still mine and a part of me, even if those for whom they exist are not. And I continue to love them at a distance, praying for them as they continue down their separate paths.

"I think I can. I think I can."

I wasn't created to be a slave to the past, nor was the little horse created to serve as part of a shrine to the past. Though I had moved forward in many ways, I realized in that moment that my feet had been reluctant and heavy. I wanted to leap into the future, not limp. I needed to let Choo Choo, and all that he represented, go.

"I know I can. I know I can."

After giving him one last squeeze, I brushed out his rumpled mane, stood and secured Choo Choo in a gift box of items for another loved one.

Though I don't wish heartbreak on anyone, if you experience it, I hope that you have the privilege of knowing that God does amazing things amidst confusion, pain, sadness and loss. He pours love into us, endlessly, unfailingly. Even as our emotions spill out uncontrollably in grief or anger, and we don't have the strength to stop up the gaping wounds that have been torn through us, our Heavenly Father refills, refills and refills us until we are able to let the salve He applies stick to and heal our brokenness. And, then, He continues to fill us up until we can pour into the lives of those who are hurting around us, whose pain we know and understand and through which we can help them.

The precious boy and those dear that came and went with him still hold a special place in my heart. However, they no longer crowd out those here and present, or cloud my vision of the future.

The plushy horse named Choo Choo has a new home, a new little boy to love him and a new name.

And God has given me new loves, a renewed future and . . . a new name too.