The Water Source: A Parable of Choice and Freedom

The dust cloud appeared first— like a white wall rising against the Eastern Sierra peaks. Then they came thundering over the ridge: fifty wild mustangs flowing down the hillside like liquid freedom made visible.

I barely got my camera up in time to catch them streaming past—manes flying, hooves drumming the earth, the ground shaking beneath my feet. For thirty seconds that felt like eternity, I was drinking in something I had never experienced before.

Then silence. They were gone, leaving only the echo of something wild that had just changed me.

But God wasn't done whispering yet.

Hours later, I found myself at a desert water source where the gathering had grown to nearly a hundred mustangs. I kept spinning around, not knowing which way to look, overwhelmed by the abundance of life in this harsh landscape.

Where water meant everything, I was about to witness three different responses to the same invitation. I had no idea I would become part of the story myself.

The first thing I noticed was the peace. Most of these magnificent creatures moved with an easy confidence, grazing calmly, wandering to and from the water in what seemed like an ancient dance of sharing space. They had found something beyond survival—they had found rest in the midst of harsh wilderness. They carried themselves with the kind of freedom that doesn't need to prove itself, doesn't need to fight for every inch of ground. Watching them, I understood that God has accomplished in nature what He also offers to us humans as Jesus called out:

"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I [God] will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28

But not all the horses had found this peace.

Two stallions squared off, the sound cutting through desert quiet like a thunderclap. But here's what stopped me: most horses barely looked up. A few turned their heads with mild interest, then went back to grazing. No panic. No choosing sides.

These horses understood something profound: someone else's conflict didn't have to become their conflict. Here was a different kind of "freedom"—the exhausting kind that fights for everything, sees every other horse as competition for resources God had provided in abundance. As if on a stage, I watched wisdom being whispered:

"For you were called to freedom, brothers.  Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another." — Galatians 5:13

Then a new stallion appeared—kicking up sand, stomping, making it clear he wasn't sure this place was safe. I could see his desperation: he needed the water but was terrified of what trusting might cost him.

This was the third response. The one I understood all too well—knowing you need water but unable to believe the grace of water might actually be free.

Three other horses I had been watching suddenly turned their attention to me.  They walked straight toward me with purpose, and I realized with terror and wonder that I was about to experience what it feels like when perfect love decides to investigate an imperfect heart.

They flanked me like a gentle tribunal. The leader lowered his head and examined me—my feet, legs, hair, feet again. Each breath deliberate, each moment an examination I couldn't manipulate. All I could do was sit still and let him discover what I actually was. In that vulnerable moment, I found myself with an ache in my own heart praying the same prayer written long ago:

"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts." — Psalm 139:23

Finally, he looked directly into my eyes. I tried to communicate: I'm not here to take or harm. I am just here to receive whatever you're willing to give.

Then he walked around me, paused to give me one final look over his shoulder—somehow conveying acceptance—and signaled I had passed some test I didn't know I was taking.

"The Lord searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought." 1 Chronicles 28:9

I had been chosen. Not because I was perfect or deserved it. I was chosen because when Love [God] came to investigate my heart, He found Jesus there—His righteousness covering my complete unworthiness, making me acceptable not because of who I am, but because of who He is.

"God made Him [Jesus] who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God." — 2 Corinthians 5:21

For the next hour, I moved among a hundred wild horses as their accepted guest. And while I experienced this incredible grace, I watched the fearful stallion continue his dance of wanting and retreating. The water was right there. No one would fight him for it. But the choice was his alone. That's when I remembered Jesus' invitation:

"Let anyone who is thirsty come to Me and drink." — John 7:37

I found myself silently pleading: Just choose it. Stop the posturing. The water is free. You don't have to fight for what is being offered as a gift.

Finally, something shifted. His defensive posture melted away, and he approached the water with tentative trust. I watched fear transform into freedom—not the false freedom of endless fighting, but real freedom that comes from choosing to trust the source of life. This day he would experience a new freedom:

"So if the Son [Jesus] sets you free, you will be free indeed." — John 8:36

In that desert, I witnessed the Gospel played out in wild horses. The fighters represented exhausting "freedom" that is really bondage—endless conflict over resources God provides. The fearful stallion represented all of us approaching living water—desperate for what we need but terrified grace might be too good to be true.

And the peaceful majority? They had found real freedom that comes from being chosen, from drinking deeply, from discovering that when your thirst is satisfied, you don't need to fight others for what they need too.

"We love because He[God] first loved us." — 1 John 4:19

But here's the truth that shook me most: I experienced being chosen not because I was perfect, but simply because I was willing. That experience transformed how I saw everyone else approaching the water source.

When you have been covered by perfect love through Jesus' righteousness, when you have been chosen not because of your worthiness but because of His—it changes everything. The fighting stops looking like strength and starts looking like exhaustion. The fearful posturing stops looking like a threat and starts looking like desperate thirst. The answer was in drinking from the true source of water:

"But whoever drinks the water I [Jesus] give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." — John 4:14

The mustangs are still out there, demonstrating what real freedom looks like—sharing the water source, examining hearts with curiosity rather than judgment, offering acceptance that transforms strangers into family.

They are pointing to the One who created them, the One who looks at every fearful, fighting, desperate human heart and chooses love over condemnation, welcome over rejection. God has already made His choice—He chose to give us His gift of love and life through Jesus.

But like that stallion at the water's edge, the final choice is ours. We can keep fighting for freedom that is really bondage. We can keep circling, wanting desperately but too afraid to trust. Or we can choose to receive what has already been freely given.

"Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve... But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord." — Joshua 24:15

On that blessed day in the Eastern Sierras, wild horses taught me that the Gospel is not just something to believe—it is something to experience, to live, to let transform how we see every other thirsty heart.

The water source is flowing. The invitation is open. God has chosen you.

The question is: will you choose Him?