Persistence and Preparation!

It is one thing to snow ski on the gently rolling hills of Montezuma, Iowa, at age 43. It’s quite another thing to ski on the Rocky Mountains of Colorado at age 54. That’s what I attempted to do earlier this week, on Christmas day.

When we hit the Loveland ski slopes, Jonathan and Jeremy (Amy’s husband), and Nathan (Jonathan’s high school friend) went for the big hills, while Amy, an accomplished skier, accompanied Bethany (her sister), Debbie, and me to the beginner hill.

My first attempt at the beginner hill was embarrassing. While trying to get on the ski lift chair, I slipped and fell, requiring the ski lift operator to stop the lift while trying to get me on my feet. Several impatient skiers, waiting to get on the lift, had a few choice words for me. Humiliated, I got on my feet and onto the lift chair.

Again, my feet went out from under me while trying to get off the ski lift at the top of the beginner hill. I had fallen twice and had not yet gone down the hill. I did make it to the bottom of the hill – several tumbles later.

Meanwhile, Amy was mentoring Bethany, who was catching on very quickly.

Gradually, I gained confidence and skied down the beginner hill several times without falling. “I’m ready for the green hill,” I boldly announced.

I really did think I was ready! The reality of it all began to set in while Jonathan and I rode the ski lift one mile up a huge hill, several thousand feet higher than I had previously been. The cold wind whipped against my face, freeze burning my skin – or so it felt. Arriving at the top, I was excited, though admittedly, a bit nervous. I had never been this high up – on skis.

Amy, Jeremy, Jonathan, and Nathan were there to help me, and took me to the gentlest slope. It turned out to be as gentle as Goliath.

With the fierce wind blowing snow on my face, I could barely see as my glasses became foggy. My hood was twisted, covering one eye and obscuring half of what limited vision I had because of my steamed-up glasses.

I had certainly bitten off more than I could chew. I was in over my head. But I was committed to getting down the hill – somehow. Persistence would carry the day. Or so I thought. Amy, Jeremy, and Jonathan encouraged me as I tried skiing slowly, attempting to do “S” curves across the face of the hill. I fell. Getting up and reattaching my skis, I started again (GUARMSISA).

My guides were very encouraging. “You’re doing great, dad,” they hollered. I fell. Jonathan came to me immediately. “We’re going to make it, dad. We’re a team. We’ll help you.” GUARMSISA.

“I can do this,” I said to myself. Skiing cautiously across the side of the mountain, I heard my guides cheering. Feeling good about my progress, I failed to notice that I was leaving the packed snow and skiing into the deep powder. Attempting to turn down the hill, I fell.

We were fifteen minutes into this skiing adventure (or mishap, to be more correct) and had only gone a short distance down the hill. Cautiously, Amy asked, “Dad, do you think you can do this?”

“I think I can,” was my confident reply. GUARMSISA.

“Maybe I should head straight down this steep hill instead of trying to inch my way sideways across the slope,” I thought. One look down the steeply sloping hill changed my mind.

By now my thighs were burning, my hips were hurting, my face was freezing, and my back was screaming, “STOP!” I can do this. Down again!

Without my knowing it, Jonathan, noticing a member of the “Ski Patrol,” skied to him and said, “My dad is down and needs help. He can’t ski down this hill.”

Amy, seeing how hard it was for me, said, “Dad, we’re proud of you. You tried. Maybe you ought to let the ‘Ski Patrol’ take you down the hill.” I consented.

As I waited for my rescue, I philosophized. It takes courage to keep going when things are not going well. It also takes courage to say, “I made a mistake. I wasn’t ready for this big hill. I should have stayed on the beginner hill.”

Seeming like an eternity, but within minutes, Julie arrived on a two-person snow mobile, kindly helped me aboard, and took me to the bottom of the mountain. End of skiing for that day!

Here’s what I took away from that experience: While confidence and persistence are needed to achieve success, preparation is essential, too. I was confident I could ski that huge hill. And I persisted to the point of re-injuring my delicate back. But, in the end, I wasn’t prepared. The victories God promises are given to those who are prepared (Proverbs 21:31).