At the stables the other day I watched a horse being prepared for training. Before anything else happened, the trainer placed the flaps on the horse’s bridle. Those small pieces of leather beside the eyes. Blinkers. They are not there to punish the horse.
They are there to focus him.

Horses can see almost everything around them. Nearly three hundred and fifty degrees. Movement to the side. Movement behind them. Shadows. Other horses. People walking. Carts moving. And because they are prey animals, every movement can trigger fear.

So the trainer places the flaps on. Not to restrict the horse.
But to protect its focus.

Suddenly the horse stops reacting to everything around it. The noise fades. The distractions disappear. The horse looks straight ahead and the training can begin.

And I could not help but think how deeply spiritual that moment was. Because sometimes the Lord needs to put flaps on us.

The problem of seeing too much. One of the great enemies of faith is distraction. Not necessarily sin.
Just noise. Other people’s opinions. Old voices from our past. Fear of what might happen. Memories of what already happened.

We start reacting to everything moving around us. Every comment. Every criticism. Every unexpected event.

Before we know it, we are no longer running our race. We are spinning in circles responding to everything else.

Scripture reminds us of the same principle. “Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.”(Heb 12:1)

Notice the language. Fixing our eyes. Not glancing. Not occasionally looking.
Fixing. That requires the spiritual equivalent of blinkers.

The enemy loves startling believers. The enemy rarely wins by direct confrontation. More often he wins through distraction. A whisper here.
A fear there. Something unexpected appearing behind us.

And suddenly we are startled. We turn around We stop running. We question what God already spoke. But Scripture warns us not to live in that constant reaction.

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”
(1 Pet 5:8)

The lion does not always attack immediately. Often the roar alone is enough to scatter the herd. But the believer who has learned to keep their eyes forward cannot be easily startled.

When training begins. At the stables the flaps mean something else too. Training has started. The horse is no longer wandering around the field doing whatever it wants. Now it is under the hand of a trainer who is preparing it for purpose.

And that part spoke to me deeply. Because sometimes God narrows our focus. He removes certain voices. He closes certain doors. He limits what we can see.

And at first we may think something has been taken from us. But in reality something far greater is happening. We are being trained.

“My son, do not despise the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves.”
(Heb 12:5)

Training is love in action. God is preparing us for the race ahead. Forward eyes. Paul understood this principle.

“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal.”
Philippians 3:13 to 14

Notice again the language. Forgetting what is behind. Not because the past did not happen. But because constantly looking back will stop you from moving forward. The enemy loves believers who keep turning their heads.

But the Lord calls us to something different. Forward eyes Focused hearts.
Steady steps. Perhaps it is time Perhaps some of us need to ask the Lord for spiritual blinkers. Not to ignore reality.

But to stop reacting to every movement around us. To stop living startled by the enemy.

To stop turning around every time something from the past tries to follow us.

Maybe it is time to look straight ahead again. To fix our eyes on Jesus. To allow the Trainer to lead. Because the race marked out for you was never meant to be run while looking over your shoulder.

Sometimes the most powerful spiritual act is simply this. Put the flaps on. And run.

Love
V.L