It's All Downhill From Here

I stood at the top of the tall tall ski slope all alone and looked out over the deep steep descent before me. That is when my head began to swirl and I felt mildly nauseous. I backed from the edge til the sensation of vertigo passed. I have had vertigo before, but never before having to then careen downhill with nothing to stop me from tumbling  broken head over heels but my own (absent) skill.

"Now what, Sherlock?" I thought, as the dizziness slowly subsided. While I was contemplating what lunacy had made me think that someone afraid of heights and with a grand total of  3 days of skiing behind her should be on the blue diamond slope, just one color removed from the slope that only certified nutcases attempt, a small family hopped off the ski lift. It was a mom and dad and a small child,maybe 5. I watched in amazement as the dad gave explicit instructions to the little tyke about how he was to slowplow to the left, then to the right and zigzag down the slope, stopping at the end of each zig or zag.

Tremulously, I slid to the edge of the slope, and tried not to look out over the miles and miles of valley below me. Just look where you are going, I chanted in my head, and keep your focus just a few feet ahead. I knew that if I didn't go NOW, I would die on that mountain top. My racing heart would finally lap intself and give up and I would sink to the soft snow, a huddled mass yearning to not ski. (This is obscure, but I just want to point out to all of you that on the base of the statue of Liberty is a lovely poem, one line of which is "huddled masses yearning to breathe free". I hate for any potentially clever line to go unnoticed.)

Anyway, you may wonder how I ended up on top of the mountain. First, many lifetimes ago, I veered off the green (beginner) path I had been on earlier, and did a very small section of a blue (intermediate) run. When I survived that, I skiied over to a chairlift with a big blue diamond on it and these words:
DANGER! NOT A BEGINNER SLOPE!
I sidled over to the chair lift operator.
"Do you think I could ski this?"
He looked a me with a grin, "It depends. Are you current on your vaccinations? What is your level of pain tolerance? Do you have an up to date last testament and will made out? How much do you want to see your son get married this side of heaven?"
"I take that as a no?"
I skied back to the green hill and again did a run veering to the small blue section.
Taking a deep breath, I skied back to the blue diamond chairlift.
A man and his boy were in line.
"Excuse me," I said, "Have you skied this run before?"
"We just did!" said the boy, "Only my second time on skis! I loved it!"
"Do you think I could do it?" I asked.
They both grinned, "It depends.How much do you enjoy walking without rods in your spine and surgically reconstructed hips?"

I skied back to the green hill. After a few more runs down Easy Street, veering again over to the small blue section, I decided it would be foolish to attempt a slope I wasn't sure I could ski. To what end, afterall? So I wait til next season to try an intermediate hill. I had done far better than I had expected and I should be grateful for all I had been blessed to experience without a single fall thus far, and the only ski injury one sustained in the ski lodge itself.

So with a sigh, I skied over to the blue diamond lift, and climbed on the chair lift. No turning back.  And that is how I ended up on top of a slope which gave me vertigo just looking down the path I must now somehow traverse.
Two young men now got off the ski lift and were adjusting their goggles.
"Excuse me," I said, "Can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure!"
"Could you take my picture? I really can't believe I am up here, and neither will my family."
"Happy to!" they said, "Go stand on the edge there so they get a sense of how high up you are."
"No, I don't think I could do that."
"You will have to do that to ski down," one man reminded me.
"Is there no other way?" I asked.
"You can do it! Here, go slowly...."
"You won't push me and run away with my smartphone?"
"No, we promise. That's good.... a little closer to the edge...."
"Hurry," I moaned, "Take the picture."

Pocketing my camera, I strapped on my poles, and breathed a quick prayer. Then following the 5 year old's tracks, I was off down the steepest, highest mountain on the entire earth. I zigzagged slowly back and forth down the steep upper half. I only looked in front of me, never turning to look at the deep steep valley I was descending into. And soon, much sooner than I expected, I was on the bottom half which I had skied already from the green run. I jubilantly skied back to the blue chairlift.
"I did it!!!" I cried to the chair lift operator.
He ignored me and continued talking to his buddy.
I guess some victories that seem monumental to me no one else really cares about.
And the second time I stood on top of the mountain, I was no longer afraid. I felt no dizziness, and all I noticed was how breathtakingly beautiful it was. And I realized that mountains are meant to be climbed and one should never let fear dictate how much of life one is willing to embrace.

On top of the mountain, I got a text message. I snapped open my phone. It was from Asherel who had been skiing all morning on the bunny slope, insisting she was not ready for the Easy Street slope, the first real mountain slope for beginners. The text said, "Where are you? I am ready to ski Easy Street."
"On top of the mountain, wait for me. I am coming down."

Romans 8:14-16

 ¹⁴ For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. ¹⁵ The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” ¹⁶ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.