fear and skiing

Last Friday we rose early, bundled up in our winter gear, and drove the two hours over to Crystal Mountain Ski Resort . This little winter paradise is stuck in the Mt. Rainier national park and on a clear day you have great views of the summit. We got a little nervous on the drive up when we saw signs that the Chinook Pass was closed for the winter.  Not knowing where exactly our turn off was, we were worried that we'd meet a road block before we got to the slopes, especially since we saw exactly zero cars on the road with us. Fortunately Crystal Mountain blvd was right where the Chinook Pass closed. It's still so foreign to me living somewhere that entire highways shut down during the winter months, but it makes you feel like a real Pacific Northwesterner to cross the mountain roads.

Unfortunately it was raining when we got out of the car but we plowed on, rented our skis and poles and hopped on the lifts and headed up an intermediate blue slope. It's been a while since I'd been skiing and I was feeling not so confident. In fact I was feeling downright fearful. I got off the lift and stood at the edge of the run and thought, "well, guess I'm going to live up here now."

 

I don't know when that happened, or why that happened. I know how to ski! Blue runs are my jam!  I remember going skiing when I was younger and loving the speed, the challenge, proving that I could do harder slopes. I guess it's a part of growing up, and it's a part I really don't like. This deeper awareness that bad things do happen, that there are things in this world to be afraid of, that I have more to loose, that I can't do everything, that I might get hurt. You just don't have that sense when you're a kid.You're either fearless or oblivious.

So there I am, standing at the top of the slope trying to work up the nerve to make that first move, to frenchfrie and pizza my way down. I know by now that T.J. must be wondering where the heck I am. And in my head I can hear my dad's voice. He was the one who taught me to ski and encouraged me to try harder slopes, and celebrated my victories. He was also the one who talked me in to going on one more run at the end of the day, which usually ended up being one run too many. And I inevitably found myself in a similar position to where I stood now, at the top of a tricky turn wondering how I was going to get down without dying (I'm a little dramatic, so sue me). But dad would stand below me, shouting, "Why are you crying?! Come on down! You can't stay up there forever! You can do it! Let's goooo!"  

So as a "grown up" I hear that now, in my head and also from T.J. my new cheerleader. But this time I didn't cry, thank you very much, and even though my legs were shaking, I made the first cut and slowly carefully made my way down. Then I tackled the moguls (that was a fun surprise...I feel like there should have been a sign) and when I finally reached T.J. patiently worrying about waiting for me at the bottom, I declared that it was green runs for me the rest of the day.

But all that aside, we had a really great day out in the snow. We rode the lifts together, then T.J. would hop on the next one to go higher up the mountain, and we'd meet back at the bottom. We wore ourselves out until the rain and fog made it impossible to see and we headed to the lodge for lunch. After a couple beers and a lot of actual french fries we opted not to go back out on the slopes. At the car we peeled off soaking wet layers, then headed home to take late afternoon naps by the fire. The perfect end to our winter excursion. 

And even though I was a bit of a chicken, I want to go back and do it again because I got back a little bit of that confidence I had as more reckless kid. And I realized something about my fear and I don't just mean fear of wiping out on the slopes, but real fear that I struggle with. Fear of the unknown, of the future, of feeling out of control, of getting hurt. I realized it all boils down to a lack of faith. God commands us, DO NOT FEAR! Easier said than done right?  But even though my dad isn't always standing at the bottom of the slope telling me I can do it, my heavenly Father is always with me, telling me I can trust Him. And I don't want to let my fear drown out that voice, and I don't want to miss out on the abundant life He has planned for us.

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” 

2 Timothy 1:7

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” 

Joshua 1:9