Joy in Victory

This picture I drew is not really what the mountain looked like. It is what it would have looked like if all the mountains around it were covered in snow.... but they weren't. The only mountain that had snow was the ski resort mountain, and obviously, its snow was imported. It is the kind of snowy mountain I love- perfectly dry, safe, and 50 degree sunny roads to drive on to reach it. Then wham, it explodes into view amidst the brown and blue mountains around it- a solitary winter wonderland, speckled with little spots skiing happily down its steep slope.

Now that you have the setting in your mind, I don't mean to brag but....
First of all, whenever someone says "I don't mean to brag," they always really do mean to brag, but they don't want you to think they are conceited, so they start off with that caveat.  So in the New Year, I will start with a refreshingly honest refrain: "I DO mean to brag...."

The group ski instructor after teaching us for an hour said, "You guys are all ready to move on to the bigger slope. I have never done that with a class before you you really are the best group I have ever had. Do you want to do the chairlift and try Easy Street?"
I know he wasn't just trying to butter us up, because when a fellow instructor skied by, he whispered to him (I was standing near and had devised a clever ear horn with a cupped hand and rolled up paper tube so I mistakenly overheard....), "This group is incredible. Best I ever had! I am thinking of taking them up Easy Street."
Now Easy Street is still classified as an easy slope, but it is about 8 times longer than the bunny slope, and has some steep portions. It is also lined by cliffs. Mistakes would not be advantageous to one's health, I am thinking. I had been on a chair lift only once, and terrified.  But I DO mean to brag, unlike with snow-boarding, I really got skiing, and was having no trouble turning, stopping, or even staying upright. My cross country skiing experience translated very easily into downhill skiing. I was having the time of my life!
Asherel was still in her snow-boarding lesson, so I shouted to her where we were going (with not a little bit of pride, either....) and we headed to the chair lift.

There was one young girl with no parent with her, and I DO mean to brag, but the ski instructor grouped her with me to go on the chair lift because I was his star pupil. We managed to get on the chair lift fine, as the operator gave us some hurried instruction, and I prepared to try not to freak out.
"Isn't this fun!?" I said, between clenched teeth to the little girl beside me.
"Yes," she whispered through her braces, "But I am afraid of heights."
Lovely. Someone who was possibly more frightened than I was. Time to be an adult.
"It's best to look straight ahead," I said, as though I had ridden these contraptions a million times, "Look at how beautiful those pine trees are? Don't you just love skiing? Do you live near here? Where are your parents?" etc., etc,. keeping up a steady stream of chatter so the little girl would not notice that the chair lifts were seemingly miraculously suspended on the wire on a 2 inch fulcrum and we were fifty feet or so dangling in the air.

I knew instinctively it was not best to discuss the stretcher we had seen ski patrol race by with, with a man strapped down and covered with tubes and an oxygen mask.
"OOoh," our instructer had noted, "That's more than a broken leg....."
(He should have listened to my sister who had advised "What's the worst that could happen? A broken leg?"....apparently there was worse.....)

I saw the yellow sign warning us to lift the safety bar and prepare to dismount. I instructed the little girl on what to do next, but she kept her skis on the bar.
"Move your skis under it," I said with less fear than I felt. It was quickly approaching the point we were to ski off the lift. Her skis though remained on the bar as it lifted and she slid up a little. I pulled her legs down and it was time to ski off the seat. She of course fell, lost her pole, and crashed into me. I grabbed her pole, and tried to pull her out of the way of the chair. The attendant rushed over and slid us both down the hill a little where we lay in a heap.... but safe.
"I am so sorry!" said the little girl.
"Oh don't worry, I would've fallen anyway," I assured her.

I loved loved loved skiing down that mountain. It was a thrill like few I have experienced. Now I know why people sell their children to buy a lift ticket!
Asherel had had enough by 2:30.
"Can we go now?" she asked, "I am exhausted!"
Snowboarding is much harder and more strenuous than skiing, especially when you are learning.
"Do we have to?" I whined, "Can't you just go find another family to live with? I think I will just get a job here and be a snow bunny."
She glared at me, and I knew my fun was over.

So in the end, I had been full of fear for naught. I had had the time of my life, met wonderful people, and even helped still the fear of a sweet little girl. You just never know how you might be used of God. "Embrace life", God was shouting to me, "Find the snowy mountain among the dark brown ones and ski down it rapturously!"

Psalm 21  

 ¹ The king rejoices in your strength, LORD.
   How great is his joy in the victories you give!
 ² You have granted him his heart’s desire
   and have not withheld the request of his lips.
³ You came to greet him with rich blessings
   and placed a crown of pure gold on his head.
⁴ He asked you for life, and you gave it to him—
   length of days, for ever and ever.
⁵ Through the victories you gave, his glory is great;
   you have bestowed on him splendor and majesty.
⁶ Surely you have granted him unending blessings
   and made him glad with the joy of your presence.
⁷ For the king trusts in the LORD;
   through the unfailing love of the Most High
   he will not be shaken.