Dynamic Downtown Worship in the Anglican Tradition

On Feeding the Black Horse…

It was in that last hour of sleep, sometime after the depths and before the sun. The dream inserted itself and left a hoof-print. Joe and I were on day three of our weekend at Camp St. Christopher. The occasion was Healing Prayer Level I which could more aptly be titled, Holy Spirit 201. But, back to the dream.

In the dream, I was standing at the base of a hill watching a rider demonstrate his speed, power and might atop a black horse; except the horse was stumbling barely able to stand. The rider who was dressed in black rode the horse or what was left of him to stand then fall on his knees before me.

The rider dismounted with a shout!, “You haven’t fed this horse! Just look at him!

Before me knelt a feeble, clearly emaciated black horse. My mind swirled. I hadn’t fed him. I had forgotten he was there. I yelled for someone to call a vet. The accuser continued to yell at me. For a moment, I remembered having seen the horse when I bought the country estate but had been busy working on the house and had forgotten he was there or didn’t know I was to care for him. I quickly rounded up what I could find which was an aluminum pan with some water, a carrot and a piece of celery and placed it in front of the horse – all while the thin wiry wanna-be warrior yelled at me.

I awoke.

My first thought was one of guilt for having forgotten the horse. Then as is often the case when one has asked the Holy Spirit to do a great work, the dream unraveled into yarns of interpretation. You see we hadn’t fed the black horse. For three days, we had no contact with the outside world and knew little of Satan’s escapades around the world. We hadn’t listened to the news, hadn’t read a paper, discussed politics or even surfed the net for nuggets of shocking evil. Instead we had sat and learned about the healing power of Jesus — all the while, the black horse grew hungrier and hungrier.

I also recognized the black horse and its rider are symbolic in scripture and you guessed it, Holy does not ride the black horse. In Revelation chapter 6 we learn of the seals being opened one-by-one by the Lamb. The third seal reveals the black horse! “And its rider had a pair of scales in his hand…” He rides in not as the Holy judge but to bring false measures, scales that cheat and lie.

How do we feed the black horse? A myriad of examples come to mind, yet words and space dictate that I chose. You see the enemy who is the father of lies, wants us to feed the black horse. The stronger the horse, the more power the rider has. We feed him when we:

Watch sin portrayed with inconsequential outcomes on the big screen or the smaller one in our homes and call it entertainment.

  Chase the ever elusive god of “pleasure.”

Begin our day by listening and watching every horrific deed satan has wrought around the world last night

Worry over politics instead of praying out our fears

It was a delight to be at Camp St. Christopher and starve the black horse for few days.  I obediently shared the dream with the group on Sunday and now extend it the dream to you. Thank you for reading about my black horse.

We arrived home just yesterday but the question has remained in my spirit, What horse are you feeding?  You see there is a white horse too and we want it’s rider to gallop freely in our lives, leaving glory hoof-prints in his path.

Thus far, one small victory. I resisted the urge to cue up Amazon Video and watch the final episode of a slightly lewd British mini-series. It would have fed the black horse. I substituted a few dozen pages of Women of Destiny by Cindy Jacobs — oats for the white horse. 

—Linda Prince