"The horse knows the way..."
A midnight escape, an airport ride, and the quiet reminder that people are not the headlines
“Get on the horse!” the man told him.
“The horse knows the way.”
We were hooked to every word he shared.
The man telling me this story was driving our family to the airport.
We’re nearing the end of what has been a grand adventure across the APAC region for The World Joy Project. Thank you to everyone who has added songs to my epic return home playlist. (You can do so here).
The trip has connected my family and I with culture makers and communities in ways I’m still processing.
But this drive to the airport, though. . .
This one quiet airport ride is something I just keep thinking about and have to share with you.
We spent the drive talking about Perth and Sydney. Places to visit. Smartest routes to take. Life. Then things turned to “How long have you been in Australia”. ..
He paused for a moment and told us about leaving home when he was sixteen. His parents helped arrange it. Someone came for him in the middle of the night and woke him up.
“Time to go.”
They traveled until the two of them reached a certain point in the dark. That’s where the guide stopped.
There was a horse waiting. Just one.
The guide said, “Get on.” Our driver looked at him confused, “You’re not coming?”
The man shook his head. “Get on. The horse knows the way.”
He told the man, “But my father is paying you, not the horse.”
The man just repeated it.
“The horse knows the way.”
So, he rode alone through the darkness on a horse he was trusting ‘knew the way’.
He crossed the Iranian border and eventually found the United Nations office that would help him begin again.
This path … a horse in the dark, a border crossing, a door opening at the right moment… eventually, led him to Australia.
He told us that when he first arrived in Sydney, everything overwhelmed him so much he barely went out. The thing that surprised him most? Color everywhere. “I remember walking into a mall,” he said, “and just seeing colors.” Where he came from, he told us, everything had felt black and white.
It took time for this technicolor world of people and possibilities to even fully process in his mind. Sitting there in the car listening to him, I found myself thinking about that moment for him in the dark years earlier.
A teenager riding through the dark on a horse someone insisted knew the way.
A teenager.
A border.
A horse.
A world of color.
At one point our daughter leaned forward and said she wanted to make a movie about his life. After we landed in our next city, I sent him a message thanking him for the ride and telling him about that. Once we landed in our next location to thank him and let him know. He responded:
“Please tell your daughter that everyone has a story in their life. Mine had some sad chapters, but thankfully it has a happy ending. Sometimes sharing those stories can help and inspire others.”
He then sent a list of his favorite places to visit, as well as a GIF of a duck wearing sunglasses driving a car. Which, honestly, felt exactly right.
With images of war filling our lives and talk of enemies and horrifying stories of tragedy as well as looming worries of only more to come, it’s … a lot. It’s a world of loud. But in that car we mostly talked about family.
Our continued messages to each other are about fatherhood and soccer and random GIFs.
A few days ago this man drove my family safely to the airport.
A few years ago he crossed a border on a horse.
I keep thinking about that horse in the dark. The courage it takes to trust enough to climb on and ride toward a life you cannot yet see.
I guess I’m realizing I need more moments like that. The faith that somewhere in the darkness there’s a way forward. Sometimes I wonder if we all need a few more moments like that.
Moments when we trust the path toward each other.
Moments when we remember something simple:
The horse still knows the way.
Thank you. Your comments and emails have been so encouraging and helpful in ways I cannot even begin to express right now. We’ve reached a very work-intense portion of the trip where it is a new event and new city each day, so my response time is lagging much more than I would like. Please know that each word, piece of art, poem, song recommendation, or spark of any kind you send my way is cherished and I hope to reply properly soon once wi-fi is consistent and I’m 100% certain my mind and body are both in the same time-zone.
Camp Cocrea. This was one of my favorite events of last year. The team in Montreal shared some clips from our experience together. Looking forward to doing something with them again sometime soon. See it here.
The Circles All Around Us. PlayAllDayNashville recently did a sweet reading of our book. It brings me so much joy to see this book continually pop up in the world in meaningful ways. (watch here. get the book here.)
Beautiful and heartwarming as always. Thank you Brad for reinstating my faith in the unseen and unknown.
Thank you for these incredibly encouraging(and timely) words.