It was another sunny winter day, a gift directly from the hand of the generous God. The temperature was 6 degrees at the base and -15 at the top of the mountain. Okay, it was really colder with the wind chill factor, but why make it seem dramatic. An extra layer of long johns had been added, the helmet vents closed, hand warmers inserted, Chapstick applied, and a full face balaclava with ski goggles. No piece of exposed skin was seen. The ride on the chair lift with my friend and my sister-in-law proved to be uneventful, although I did try to sit as close to Paula as possible. A survival tip for a bitter cold and windy ride up the mountain.
It was a difficult pull with the ski poles against the wind on a relatively flat part of the trail, but that provided a little sweat to our cold bodies. We skied down a gentle green (beginner) slope to blue (intermediate) trail. The three of us paused, okay stopped, at the top of a black diamond (expert) cliff. Well it seemed like a cliff to me. Breathe. Breathe. I took note of a very hot, sweaty nervous body – my own. Paula and Kathy both thought that I could ski this short black diamond section. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?! When had the reasoning section of their brains been altered? Breathe, breathe. They both were well aware of my ability – and inability.
Kathy took the lead. Swoosh. She was gone. Only in my dreams, and there are many of them, could I ski like that. Paula was next. Paula and I both know the drill when I’m over my head. Paula skis slightly in front of me. Far enough for me to watch what she does and listen to her instructions and encouragement, but close enough for my security. Sweat, sweat. Paula calls out, “One turn at a time. Don’t conquer the entire section. Take one turn at a time. Reach and plant the pole downhill and let your skis turn you. Ski across the trail and stop. One turn at a time.” Dear Jesus, I want to see my grandson again. You have to help me. Please, Lord, please. I must admit that, in more than one way, skiing is very spiritual event for me. The beauty of creation AND pleading for God’s help. This time was no different.
The mini victories all add up.
One turn at a time, then another. Again, one turn at a time, then another… and another, and another, and another. I made it to the bottom of that section. I did it! We did it! Victory! Mini victories led to this huge victory. Thank you, Jesus, I get to see my grandson again. Paula and I met up with Kathy, who had been waiting – a long time. One turn at a time was the secret to conquering that difficult section.
One day at a time, one decision at a time, one spiritual discipline at a time, one act of obedience at a time, one confession at a time, one step at a time…one turn at a time. The mini victories all add up. Add up to greater faith, greater trust, greater love.
