Fight, Flight, or Faith — What My Horse Taught Me About Boundaries & New Beginnings

Fight, Flight, or Faith — What My Horse Taught Me About Boundaries & New Beginnings

by Tiffany Ward

We talk about fight, flight, or freeze as if it’s only a human thing—but animals know it too. And sometimes, God allows them to become our greatest teachers about fear, safety, and boundaries.

I’ve had my Appaloosa mare, Kiah, for a long time. Her name means new beginnings, which I didn’t fully understand for years. She came from a wonderful family who donated her to me as a senior in high school. Back then, the project was simple: take a horse fresh from the pasture, do all the training yourself, and then show them to the world.

That was the plan—until life shifted. I graduated from high-school in the fall, took a semester off to plan my wedding, and married my husband, Phillip. Showing Kiah never happened. But over the years, she has been a living classroom for me—teaching me about fear in animals, fear in people, and fear in myself.

I remember noticing her fear early on. It was distinct—visible in her eyes, in the way her body moved, in how quick she was to react. And that fear revealed something in my own mother too. She wanted me to get rid of the horse. “She’s not safe. She doesn’t have a sound mind. I don’t trust her with you.” And she was right. Kiah has never truly been a safe horse.

She’s always been flighty and unsure. But, much like my other horse, Treasure, there was something in her that spoke to me. I felt the Lord say, “Stay. Believe in her. Train her.” And I did.

Fear That Pushes In

Now she’s older. Her sight is fading, and her fear has only grown. She’s become more pushy—sometimes even biting or striking out. Recently, I realized I had underestimated her fear, and that could have caused serious harm to me or someone else.

When I enter her pen, she often moves her whole body into mine, searching for comfort. But I’m a small woman, and she’s a large horse. If she panicked, she could seriously injure me.

Still, the Lord has told me to stay with her. This time, though, I’m staying differently. And maybe this is another kind of new beginning—learning to interact with her in a way that’s safer for both of us.

I’m moving her feet with my own assured confidence. I’m telling her, with the tone of my words, body language, and a lead rope in hand, what I am and am not okay with.

In the horse world, safety comes first. A halter and lead rope are basic tools for controlling a horse’s movement. My horses stay in long rectangular runs at night—bigger than stalls—where I feed them and keep them contained. Even without tying her, I’m learning to use my presence and the rope to ask her to back up and respect my space.

The other day, something shifted in me. For the first time in my 33 years, I felt the full fight-flight-freeze response in my own body toward this horse. My gut said, “I don’t want to be near you—not like this.” And I knew: this is what a boundary feels like.

God’s Lesson in Boundaries

In that moment, the Lord spoke to my heart:

Tiffany, I am allowing people like this in your life—people who will push in, overwhelm you, and make no room for you. Your job is to lean into Me and create a God-honoring boundary. Not to shrink, suppress, or protect yourself out of fear, but to establish a caring and kind bubble that honors Me and allows for change to happen.

God used my horse to show me that some boundaries aren’t about self-defense—they’re about making space for His glory to be revealed.

Even my rooster, territorial as he is, reminds me of this lesson. With both animals and people, God invites me to trust that He is my shield, that His truth is my sword, and that my safety comes from abiding in Him.

Safe in His Care

No matter what someone else thinks or does, if I surrender my whole heart to Him, I am safe. Even in horrible, confusing, or conflicting situations, I can flourish because my safety isn’t in my own strength—it’s in Him.

Fittingly, Kiah’s name means new beginnings. And that’s exactly what the Lord offers us: the truth that we can end something and step into something new at any point in time. We aren’t trapped in “the way it’s always been.” In Christ, there is always the possibility of change, always the hope of a fresh start.

Jesus said it this way:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit.” — John 15:5

And maybe that’s the deeper calling: to become a peacemaker in the middle of crucial conversations and complicated relationships, trusting the Lord to guide my steps… and to keep me safe in His care.

—Be Treasured