You can be a sad determinist or some variety of Calvinist and believe that everything is preordained. I chose to exercise my freewill and went for a ride. Don’t be a fatalist, I muttered grimly to myself, get on the horse.
We started off slowly, trotting along in the clear air of a crisp, sunny Texan morning and posted off down a trail in the Mesquite. As I understand it, posting trot isn’t very “Western” but so what, it’s good for the horse’s back and the rider’s sense of rhythm, to say nothing of muscles. They got a good workout.
After a little while it seemed right to open up and off we galloped, not too furiously but plenty fast enough. It’s a great feeling, moving at speed with a horse through the countryside.
We finished with some uphill galloping, Go on! Up that hill! followed by a brisk trot back to the barn. I say barn, but it’s more of a walk-in with a trailer doing duty as a tack room, and what’s wrong with that? Nothing at all.
Ride over, I drove the country route to Waco, down 933, cleverly avoiding the heinous I35, and visited the sick in hospital. One of them’s made a pretty miraculous recovery. I thank God for that. And remember, God’s knowledge is necessary but it’s also eternal and simultaneous, or present tense.
That doesn’t contradict free will. Speaking of which, I’ll clean some guns after Stations of the Cross. There’s nothing, ahem, predictable about that, at all.
Stay on the horse,