top of page

Building a Relationship with Christ in the Middle of a Pasture...

Parker McBryde

In 2007, I left my home in Myrtle Beach, SC and moved to Atlanta, GA to attend the Candler School of Theology at Emory University. I was not only searching for meaning in my life but also a deeper connection with Christ. I thought a change of location and the chance to study ethics and theology may be what I needed.


As part of the Contextual Education curriculum, I was placed at Emory University Hospital as a student chaplain. I thought this site would be perfect, as a hospital setting would be a somewhat familiar place for me and one where I would probably feel the most comfortable.


However, after the first week, I noticed that being back inside the confines of a hospital was causing more problems for me and I soon found myself not only buried under a heavy course load, but the return of some intrusive thoughts and memories from my EMS career.


My decision to attend seminary, I had told myself, was to study to become a preacher. But the thought process, or lack thereof, was more of a bargaining chip. I would serve the church as a barter to move forward from the things of my past that were causing me to stumble. As much as it pains me to say, I also arrived at that decision while under the influence of prescription pain medication. Over the course of a couple of years, I had become addicted to these prescription drugs and I found that by using them, I could free myself from the thoughts and emotions of the circumstances I was trying so desperately to run away from. The drugs gave me a break from reality and it was while I was under their influence that I reasoned with myself that I would serve the Lord and my life would no longer be filled with shame and regret. I would give my life, by serving the church, for the lives of my patients whom I could not save or for whom I found myself haunted by their death and voices. Things would be set straight, or so I thought...in reality, all I needed to do was look to the cross and realize that had already been accomplished. But the effects of the drugs and my own guilt didn't allow me to see that...


What should have been a three year degree, took me five to complete. During that time, I was taking several trauma related classes as part of the work required while serving as a student chaplain. Those classes, which I enjoyed, were also to be the ones that brought more struggle than ever before. Before long, I had made a connection with another chaplain. And it was with him that I began to open up a bit about the things I had seen, heard and smelled...as well as my words, thoughts and actions as a paramedic.


A referral to a therapist and a psychiatrist finally confirmed the diagnosis of depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). From there, I would be seen by a total of four psychiatrists, one psychologist, five individual therapists and attend five group therapy sessions. The treatment process included work in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), along with several medications.


Throughout those sessions, I didn't talk much...and I certainly didn't trust. In fact, sometimes, instead of doing the work it required to heal properly, I did what I had to do and said what I thought everyone wanted me to say in order to get released from those sessions. I also found the medications I was on kept me tired, sleepy and they concealed my emotions. I was a walking zombi most of the time. I did discontinue my therapy sessions, but it was due to financial reasons. Having been enrolled in seminary allotted me insurance coverage but when I graduated in 2012, the insurance ended and so did the sessions and the medications.


Over the next seven years, things went pretty well, under the circumstances and in 2019, I moved back home to Myrtle Beach.


After leaving seminary I realized while that time had helped me get a diagnosis and the treatment I needed, it had not brought me any closer to Christ...in fact, I was further away from Him on my return home than I was when I left the area twelve years earlier. I had not found what I was looking for....


During the summer of 2023, I began to notice subtle changes in my behavior. The thoughts and emotions were beginning to come back for a visit. For the next five months, things continued to shift and by October, November and December, I was in a very dark place...and in my mind there was only one way out. My anger at God was intensifying. I wanted Him to take away the guilt and the shame...but I needed him to forgive me. And in my frame of mind, I could not accept He could take away all those thoughts and emotions...I could not accept His forgiveness and I certainly could not accept His love.


In September, I was searching for local nonprofits who offered varying programs for First Responders who had been exposed to trauma and/or who had been diagnosed with PTSD. The Barnabas Horse Foundation popped up at the top of my Google search. I read through their website and noticed they offered a Monday Equine Therapy session for First Responders. I was curious, but not ready to take the step....


Then in November, I saw an invitation on social media for an event coming up at Barnabas in December, "Hot Chocolate & Horses." The urge to attend continued to grow over the following weeks, but again, I wasn't quite ready to commit. As the day of the event drew near, I was leaning more towards sitting this one out...and with the reports of rain, I thought, God will bail me out of actually attending. However, there was only one small problem. I had overlooked the first three words of the post... "RAIN OR SHINE"... And so, I texted a friend of mine and asked if he would like to check this place out with me... The following Monday, I called to register for the next available Monday session...and the rest, as they say is history....


There are many components to the healing process and sometimes I feel like I'm going through all of them at once. When I arrived at Barnabas, I knew it was my last hope. The energy expended...the emotions associated with the intrusive thoughts of failure, hopelessness and being unworthy...the suicidal ideations...the doubt and fear have all led me to experience the absolute darkest months of my life. However, many months later...I am still here...still standing...still fighting...and continuing, day in and day out, to put in the work it takes to heal, even on days I want to give up. I get up and I show up...it might not be my best, but some days, I can only give what I have...


I'm still working on building a relationship with the horses...that part has not come easy...but then again, building a relationship with people has always been difficult for me. Every time I'm at the farm, I'm learning and I'm growing, whether I realize it at the time or not. The simple task of just being in the presence of the herd, understanding the traumas they have faced and to see their resiliency, strength and continued growth through trust, is a connection between them and me. I see them...hear them...feel their presence.... I watch their movements and their breathing...and occasionally they do startle me simply because I've checked out on them.


I have noticed their scars and the things that make them jumpy...and it's the same with me. I see me in them. And it's not only the herd, it's the staff and the volunteers...and the donors that allow First Responders like me to come out to a piece of sacred ground to find healing...it's also about the horses finding their healing in their forever home. It is about the people who come together to provide a service amidst their own trauma and healing...but it's also about finding one's faith among the uncertainty.


In February 2024, I had to leave work early. The voices of past patients were all calling out asking to be saved and I couldn't get the their screams out of my head. I had no idea what to do or where I was going and so I reached out to Jenn. Between the tears and the anxiety, I found myself unable make sense out of it....why now? Why were the voices of these patients coming back now? I was sitting in my truck thinking there was no clear way out of this. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to drive anywhere. I didn't want to sit in the parking lot. In fact, I didn't know what I wanted or needed in that moment. And so, with their own work still ahead to be done, I was invited to come out to Barnabas. And I accepted that invitation...


I had been struggling with my faith since before I resigned my position as a paramedic. I felt like Jesus had left me....He was disappointed...I had even failed Him again by attempting to barter my way through seminary...I didn't even love or forgive myself, how could I expect Him to?


But that day at the farm gave me a little glimpse of His goodness, grace, forgiveness and love. It was because of Him that I was met with love and understanding. The hugs, the prayer, time with Doc and the holding of space by Jenn, Sue and Tiffany has continued to hold a special place in my heart. I have never been to a place that has taken the time to do what they did for me that day...it was for sure a pivotal point in my faith journey...and my healing as well.


My journey began at seminary and I will always be thankful for the people God placed on my path during my time there. But the one thing seminary couldn't give me was the one thing the Barnabas Horse Foundation has...a path back to building a relationship with Christ. It didn't come from an institution of higher learning...it didn't come from classes...it didn't come from papers, theses and written tests...it didn't come from chapel services...


Instead, it came from the feel of the dirt and mud under my boots. It came from the green grasses of the pastures. It came from the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of disfigured trees. It came from the birds and the barn cats. It came from cold winter afternoons and hot summer mornings. It came from the strength of the herd:...from Angel, Ariel, Cheyenne, Bella, Belle, CoCo, Compliments, Doodle Bug, Doc, Gage, Hershey, Jewel, Lily, Little Man, Pearl, Princess, Rain Dancer, Red Feather, Saffron, Sophie, Spirit, and Sunny. It came from the loss of Red Belle and Katie. It came from the addition of Landon. It came from actions and the subtlety of words. It came from hugs and fist bumps. It came from the love of helping others. It came from stories of similar experiences. It came from Sue, Jenn, Tiffany and Tanya. It came from the volunteers. And it came from taking a chance and just driving in the front gate.


You don't have to seek Christ in traditional ways, or what you perceive to be traditional. You can find Christ in the simplest and quietest of ways. I searched for my faith and my relationship with Christ in the wrong way, for me. He led me where He knew I would find what I was searching for.


My journey has led me to this quaint little farm with a huge heart and a dedication of service to others. And the path to finding that relationship with Christ, through these pastures in a gentle, unassuming way, has made all the difference...


~Parker

22 views1 comment

1 Comment


Guest
Jul 23, 2024

I always feel closest to the Holy Spirit and God when I’m in the pastures with the horses. 🥰

Like
bottom of page