March 1, 2007
I skiied a half-day three years ago. I took a lesson from a fit, amazing senior citizen. As I skied between him and several 4-year olds, I felt like I could conquer this.I did. I wasn’t great, but I loved the feeling of swishing down the bunny slopes. The half-day whizzed by in a heartbeat and it was time to go home.
This past week I had my second experience. I was in Colorado again for a Focus on the Family radio interview, but also a very special wedding. My niece got married on top of the mountain at Keystone Resort.
Just like last time, I had one day to ski. Should I take another lesson? Was my three-year-old half-day experience enough to carry me through?
I strapped on my skis, trudged to the bunny slopes, and sailed down. Aha! Just like riding a bicycle–only different.
I graduated to the learner slopes, gliding from the left to the right, feeling the burn in my legs and calves as I used muscles long ignored. The wind whistled through my hair. The snow lightly misted my face. I went down again and again, gaining confidence each time.
“Are you ready for the greens?” my husband asked.
I wasn’t sure, but I knew that in order to grow as a skier, that I couldn’t stay on the learner slopes all day. Who knew when I would have another chance to ski — three more years, maybe?
I followed him to a run called “School Marm”. It doesn’t get much safer than that, I thought. I started down, happy to realize that I did have the skills needed.
Except after awhile, I realized that this run was 10 times longer than the learner slopes. It went all the way from the top of the mountain down. It had several steep hills. Several opportunities to crash and burn, which I did. Several times to get exhausted as I pounded my ski boot off of the ski, stood awkwardly, put my boot back in, and took off again.
Half way to the bottom I was ready to quit, except I had committed to the mountain and there were no exit signs–unless I wanted to take a steeper run, a black or a blue (which was starting to sound exactly how I felt).
My husband skied in front of me, patiently waiting when I slammed again into the ground. I saw his face light up with alarm when I narrowly missed a tree.
It was no longer fun. I focused only on the snow around me, rather than looking at the beauty surrounding us all. If I could conquer one patch, then another, then eventually I could stop.
I finally made it to the bottom. Everything within me wanted to throw my skis in the nearest trash bin, except they were rentals and that would be foolish. So, I sat on a bench and caught my breath.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked.
Skiing was fun when it was comfortable. It was the greatest thing ever when I glided with ease down the mountain. But when it buckled my knees, threw me headfirst into snow mounds, and shook my confidence, not so much.
“Do you want to quit?” Richard asked.
I shook my head no. I felt out of control, but deep down I knew that I was experiencing a learning curve. There were some things I needed to know — how to slow down better; how to hold my posture; how to control my skis instead of them controlling me.
A half-day’s lesson three years ago wasn’t enough for the greens, and especially for the blues and blacks. It was enough to play on the bunny slopes, but not enough to conquer the real runs.
That didn’t make me a failure. I tried. But in order to go forward, I needed a little help, a little more practice, and someone to show me the way.
That’s how it is in real life, too. I remember back when I found God. I loved it. I loved everything about being God’s girl. I could manage the bunny slopes of my faith, but when I got out in the real world I crashed and burned a few times.
Sometimes I wanted to give up. Until I realized that this was a path that I would be on my whole life. I needed people in my life to show me the way–godly women who cared about me, prayed for me, and modeled their faith. I needed the Word–encouragement, teaching, guidance. I needed one-on-one time with my Heavenly Father, my Savior, and the leading of the Holy Spirit. All of those helped me to ease from the bunny slopes to the greens, picked me back up when I fell, and gently nudged me to the blues, and now the blacks of my faith.
And I still need that. It’s shown me how to live my faith with confidence, with joy, exhiliration, and strength.
Suzie
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1 (NIV)
Jade W. says:
Great post, Suzie!
I loved it!
Jade