Today was finally the day we skied. Or rather everyone skied and I plodded my way down a snow-covered mountain. It truly was beautiful with perfect ski conditions, but I knew it might be an interesting day when the first thing I did was awkwardly exit the lift and run smack dab into the photographer. The picture I snapped on my phone was a run perfectly designed for me-notice no people, nice wide paths, and no steep hills dotted with moguls. The only thing Peekaboo Street and I have in common is the use of ChapStick. All of that being said, there were several spiritual applications that were whispered over me as I attempted to survive my one token day of actually skiing on a ski trip. Today was all the couples together and tomorrow the boys take the mountain alone while the girls spend their money in little quaint ski shops. We have a fearless leader who grew up in the mountains of Colorado and he could actually hang with Peekaboo for a bit. The rest fall in line after that from one who speeds full-force down the mountain taking out all in his path (he's the car guy) to the women who manage to gracefully make their turns in their cute little snow outfits to me who can never turn left without snow-plowing and so therefore I cover most of the runs with right turns only (I know, I've got skills). I felt pretty good about myself for the first few runs, but then it became obvious that I was the last little ski bunny to catch up with the group. You know how exhausting that is? Everyone zips half-way down and then stops and looks back up watching you precariously sling your arms around trying to stay upright and not end up facedown in a pile of snow near the tree line. The minute you catch up to them, they all say something like "Great job" and take off again. I'm standing there with legs made of jello, crying for my mommy and wishing I brought a portable oxygen tank, and they are at the next stop waving their ski poles at me shouting encouraging platitudes. Needless to say, I was a bit discouraged by mid-afternoon so I decided to stop at the tables half-way down the run and rest while waiting for the others to enjoy themselves without waiting for "the little engine that could" to catch up with them. My friend Debbie sensed my frustration and feigned exhaustion herself to keep me company. She wisely stayed quiet and just sat by me feeding the birds some peanuts from a candy bar softly humming "Toppins, toppins." (I know, she lived a period of time in CO as well-can't you tell?) At first she sprinkled the nuts on the table and so several birds would be brave enough to swoop down and snatch a treat but then she just put the peanuts in her hand and only a very brave and determined bird would get the prize. Between my pity-party and watching the birds (which didn't exactly make me feel like Mary Poppins but more along the line of Alfred Hitchcock) I realized a truth about my spiritual life. I've talked about running the race with endurance, but part of that journey towards Christ-likeness is knowing the path that He has set my feet upon. Knowing what He has called me to do, not those around me and then boldly running with confidence no matter how my run might look to the spectators of my life. As long as I am humbly following God's direction in my life, I'm walking in obedience to Him. We all got down that mountain and I actually felt pretty satisfied and encouraged with my skiing until I started to compare myself with others. So what if my left turns look worse than the four-year-old who just whizzed past me and might or might not have said, "Catch you later sucker" (I'm pretty sure that was just in my head). And I'm sure that snowboarder recovered after I crashed into him and pulled him down on top of me. So I enjoyed "Soliloquy," "Woodwinds," and "Easy Feelin'" while the others zoomed down "Revenge" and "Buzzard's Alley." The point is just to watch my path and boldly follow the one who has called me down it. The only bird that got a nut was the one who boldly focused on the nugget of goodness in Debbie's hand. The others attempted to get there but if anyone moved or made a noise they were immediately distracted with fear and flew off. That is, after all, the amazingly beautiful ending of Hebrews. It is God who has called me, God who has equipped me and God who will work in me what is pleasing in His sight.
Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.
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