The other day Sheryl and I decided to do what may become an annual tradition; we attended the PBR (Professional Bull Riding) bull riding event at the Mesa County Fair. Bull riding is not for sissies. If you’re going to sit on the back of one of these beasts, you better know what you’re doing and be fit for the ride of your life. These bulls are angry animals, and on this night it didn’t help that at show time the temperature was a sultry 100 degrees. Several times the show was stopped while the staff tried to get a bull with an attitude out of the arena and into the pen. A couple came alarmingly close to fans before they were stopped by the “fence(?)” (i.e. a few pipes welded together).
Of course, I don’t think I’d appreciate someone sitting on my back with a rope tied around my middle at the end of a hot day either. So maybe I’d do the same as they did; jump, kick, twist, buck, snort. But then I’d probably get what the bulls got; a few oats and an invitation to go back to where I came from. It’s the rider who gets the points, the recognition and the money. No wonder they are angry.
I’m not about to start a ‘save-the-bulls petition’, but I do like the metaphor of life as bull riding. Now, it depends on what kind of life you are having as to whether you prefer the bull or the rider as your metaphor. I’d like to think I more resemble the rider. The bull is, well, too bullish. For them there are the ups and downs, twists and turns, a real get-me-out-of-here and leave-me-along type existence. Life is a thing to be fought, complained about, avoided, and escaped.
The rider, on the other hand, takes life ‘by the horns,’ (or the rope), and tries to make something of it. He has to go with the flow or risk a hard lesson in flying. And sometimes going with the flow is nothing but quick snapping gyrations that crack body parts and stretch muscles. As I have observed, very few of the riders simply jump off the bull at the end of the 8 second ride. Most are hurled off or simply forced to let go, allowing gravity to have its way. Some riders get no score; meaning they spent whatever money they had to drive to and then enter the contest – end of story. But the promise of doing something admirable, of mastering a challenge, or accomplishing a goal, will drive them once again to compete at another fair in another county,
Life is a bull ride. For those who live in the power of Jesus Christ, even though life has its twists and turns, ups and downs, and unexpected jerks, there is a great reward at the end of the ride. On the other hand, for those who insist on bullying their way through, the only thing they can hope for is a few oats in the pen, and maybe later on, to take a bath in barbeque sauce.
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