“Serving overseas as a small-town boy from America is intense, stressful and humorous! Enjoy a light-hearted story with me from our last 20 years overseas!”
– Matt
When the horse is dead, dismount
Do you love your pets? My grandpa farmed and loved his shire work horses like pets. He farmed with no cab Ford tractors, but preferred to use his horses whenever he could. I tried to ride those wide shires as a kid. It was fun for a few moments, but I dismounted soon as they were so uncomfortable as I did the splits to try to sit on them.
When we first moved overseas, we drove a tall height, short length station wagon type car that would look out of place on most roads in America. It was great for parking in tight spots and surely would have never passed USA safety laws as the third-row seats would have been a death trap in an accident. Our first decade went by and we were still driving that vehicle, but it began to break down at inopportune times. We kept driving it and repairing it. However, it got to the point, as the years went by, that we kept shortening our travel range as we didn’t want it to break down somewhere we couldn’t get help.
The most dramatic car breakdown occurred at high elevation in the mountains. With no cell phone coverage, we had to wait for a forest ranger to eventually pass by, who then radioed back to civilization to send up a tow truck that took no short time to get to us. Thanks to those same lack of safety standards, the tow truck driver let us all squeeze onto his wide dusty front bench seat, and we and our car traveled down. After one more breakdown and no cost-effective way to repair it, we sold it.
Later that vehicle reminded me of what an older overseas worker that I knew had told me about projects, methods, equipment & programs – when the horse is dead, dismount. How often I had kept things going and nursed things along beyond their effectiveness and usefulness. Sometimes I learn a lesson early in life, only to learn it again later on in life, like when to dismount.
Something similar ever happen to you? Contact me and let me hear your story! mattsmishaps@gmail.com; Matt’s Mishaps, P.O. Box 114, Grabill, IN 46741.
