A Picture Healing at Justin’s Place
The below was written by Jeremy Barnett, husband to Allie Barnett, Executive Director. Thank you for painting a beautiful picture of the healing power of Justin’s Place. . .
Nestled in a quaint corner of Wilmore Kentucky off High Bridge Rd, a beautiful but simple farm bustles with activity. A typical lesson is happening in the indoor arena.
A horse is patiently listening to the ques and commands of a small child on its back and a trusted leader with a lead line. The horse remembers when it was brought to the farm. It was welcomed into a herd with a colorful background… some donated to the farm from owners who could no longer take care of them, some purchased from a rescue center, and others who were retired from eventing or didn’t make it through some other rigorous training program somewhere. The horse appreciated the green pastures, the night and day care and attention, the baths it gets on hot days and blankets it get on cold days. But most of all the horse appreciates having a purpose. All horses are meant to have jobs, but this horse has one of the best gigs available to horses. A few times a week, the horse gets pulled from the field, outfitted with comfortable gear and tack, and parades around a child mounted proudly on its back. The child in this particular lesson doesn’t sit still, squirms and kicks constantly out of excitement, and lets out unpredictable squeals of excitement. But the horse has come to know this child. It felt the nervous reluctance of this child’s stiff posture the first couple lessons. However, after a trusting bond was developed after those first few lessons… it has become accustomed to the child’s smell, matching the child’s energy, and appreciates the warm and drawn out hugs and pats the child now constantly bestows on the horse’s neck. The horse feels healed in these moments, rewarded for doing a “good job” for an easy role that gives the horse a purpose. A purpose the horse is more proud of than any strutting eventing horse in any big arena.
A volunteer walks beside the horse and child in the lesson, holding her leg against the horses side with her forearm for the child’s stability. As she matches the horse’s stride and pace and looks up at the beaming smile of the child… she feels a peace come over her and she asks herself a question that she finds herself asking on a few occasions when doing this ritual… what is it about these lessons at Justin’s Place that gives her this feeling? Outside of an office, away from any screen, and removed from deadlines, to-do lists, and a never-ending wave of advertisements buying for her time, money, and attention, it feels… quiet. The horse blows out a snort, the child lets out a squeal, and the lesson leader is calling out cues and commands, but to her soul… it’s quiet. She ends these lessons sweaty from trying to keep pace with a horse, dirty from an arena with kicked up dust and sand, and tired from the days demands… but somehow, it always feels therapeutic in a way. She consistently shows up to these lessons not paid, not thanked enough for her sacrifices, and beaten down from life outside of the farm. But this small window of time is not only a time when she feels like she is doing something that is making a difference in the world by investing in another, she feels healed herself. When she comes to this farm and is forced to leave the cares of the outside world at the parking lot in order to be in the quiet and to be a support to this bubbly child on a horse, she ponders if the answer to her frequent question is that her time at Justin’s Place is a small sample of life when priorities are put back in proper order and her small role as a “side walker” in this child’s lesson fills her soul with more purpose and joy than most other things she gives herself to. She’s thankful for this weekly ritual and wonders if she might be getting as much out of this time as the child.
The parent of a handsome boy at his “Barn Buddies” lesson stands at the outside fence of the arena, watching her son bounce on an half-ton animal with a smile that couldn’t be forced off his face. She stretches her back from the long drive it took to get to this farm from two counties away, but doesn’t for a moment doubt or regret the time it takes to get to this farm that has become her oasis. These lessons are one of the few times in her week where she doesn’t feel the weight of having to be both 100% available and locked in on her child’s whereabouts and actions. Her identify has been completely absorbed with the term and role of a “needed mother,” which at times can be exhausting. She doesn’t regret motherhood and doesn’t wish she could be anything else, but often feels overwhelmed with grading herself on how she’s doing at it. Mother’s don’t get reviews or promotions or awards, signifying that their efforts are recognized and productive. So instead, she tends to analyze every tantrum her son throws in a public place, every moment of disconnection and dysregulation between her and her son, and every age-appropriate mile-marker she is told her son is behind on… as opportunities to harshly critique herself and wonder if it would be better if she was doing more. She loves her son more than anything and is more proud of him than he will ever know. She has provided every opportunity for his growth and development as she could to set him up for success. But Justin’s Place is different from all the other therapies and programs her son is involved in. She has noticed her son has grown in his ability to communicate and express himself, and he has ventured outside of his comfort zone to try so many new things in this farm setting outside of an industrialized office or classroom. But those are all benefits that has come to happen serendipitously here at Justin’s Place. Justin’s Place isn’t aimed at focusing on any challenges her son might have in order to “fix” him. They simply exist to provide a place of joy and peace for her son. At Justin’s Place her son is not a project to help, but a unique and appreciated human being who is to be celebrated. For these reasons, these weekly trips to Justin’s Place are the only times her son gets excited to leave the house. She feels like the people at Justin’s Place recognize her son as someone who’s “differences” can teach the rest of us and make a positive change in the world, rather than trying to teach her son to change to fit the rules and standards of the existing world. As she switches off fixing her gaze on the sun setting on the pastures beyond her and the giggles her son lets out as his lesson is winding down to an end, she feels renewed as Justin’s Place helps to quiet her own critiquing inner-voice and allows her to be reminded of the incredible child she is raising and what an incredible job she is doing at loving him.
A family decides to drop by Justin’s Place. They do this fairly regularly as they are the ones who started it. Every time they come they look around and are pleasantly surprised at what the farm has come to look like. It was only a few short years ago that the land was purchased with very few facilities, no staff, no volunteers, and no therapeutic farm animals. The sight of how it has all developed still gives them a sense of awe and wonder. The best part is the small parking lot which is constantly filled with the cars of all the people who give of their time to make Justin’s Place run and all the families who entrust their kids to the programs that have been created there. Though joy and pride are always feelings they get from visiting this special place, there is always a looming hurt that they now realize might never completely go away. The name of the farm a bold reminder of the son they lost too early in life and the reverberating shockwaves it sent through their family that has left all of them changed. Some days are easier than others. Some days are surprisingly still filled with laughter and smiles with little thought to the missing part of them that creeps up and haunts them at unexpected times. Sometimes there’s joy in the sadness because of the guilt that is sometimes associated with feeling anything but pain. There’s no manual or mathematical equation that has been discovered to make things go back to the way they were, and the loss has become a part of their identify. Starting a non-profit organization in memory of your son seemed like a good way to honor him, but none of them guessed that the gesture would turn into what it has. There have been so many moments where they are thrust into the healing effects of Justin’s Place. Looking at the never-ending capital projects required for the farm and facilities to keep up with the demand of the growing participant base, seeing all the people wear the farms logo on their polo shirts and show up to volunteer time out of their busy schedules to be a part of the programming, and all the parent testimonials that come flooding in of how the farm has benefitted their family. Nothing brings back the son they lost in the way they miss, but something about what they have started does more than just honor his memory. They took the very best attributes of Justin and didn’t just memorialize them, but created an environment where so many others could enjoy the benefits of them. His infectious smile, care for others, and love for children are not only remembered, but acted out each day at the farm from so many people. His life and impact on the world extends on in the lives of others in a way that not only overcomes his physical absence but multiplies its reach. Perhaps this whole thing is part of what Jesus talked about when he spoke of “eternal life.”
People drive past the Justin’s Place farm on High Bridge Rd in Wilmore Kentucky all the time without so much as a glance over as they are on to their next destination. It’s amazing that so much healing is occurring right next to them without their knowledge. The small farm has become a microcosm of what the world ought to be like. It pushes back, unpenetrated by the influences of the outside world’s greed, busyness, unordered priorities, violence, fear, and hate. It’s not the buildings, not the programs, and not even the particular people that give it it’s mystical essence… it’s the process of people pausing the distractions of the outside world, coming to a common place, and giving themselves to the common mission to be in the moment and give of yourself to caring for and learning from another. The people mentioned are all healing from the outside world by their ability to press pause and notice what’s going on at Justin’s Place. Regardless of who we are, what role we play, and in what condition we come to the farm… we all give of ourselves what we each have to uniquely offer and are all healed from the process. Each of us are in need of a Justin’s Place. Do you have a Justin’s Place or are you driving by unaware of all the healing occurring right next door?