We all have areas of our life that are more difficult to yield to that trust. Areas where fears seem to overshadow our faith. My current circumstances are challenging me, testing me, wrestling out of me the fears, doubts, what-if's, bringing it down to my identity in Christ. I know He is sifting things out of me that need to be sifted. He is calling me to a deeper level of trust, of holiness. Years ago I read "Hinds Feet on High Places" to the boys. They probably don't even remember it now, but so much of the allegory symbolism in that story remains fresh in my mind. I could relate to Much Afraid, and was inspired to read how she yielded to her Shepherd. She allowed him to poke around in her heart, knowing He was doing something good in her. She trusted Him as he took her completely out of her comfort zone and gave her the companions of Sorrow and Suffering, not the companions she would have chosen for herself. It was with these companions that she learned to overcome her tormenting fears to ascend to the High Places, where she receives a new name. Learning to trust in the midst of personal suffering and trials isn't easy, but it is possible.
Almost a year ago I went skiing with my family and some friends. I had not been on ski's for about 20 years. Let's just say, it was not pretty. I can count on one hand the number of times I had been out on the slopes and this time I had the boys with me and they had never been on ski's. I thought it would be a fun day of family and snow. We started out the day with a lesson. I was separated to the "experienced" group and my boys were in the never-been-on-ski's group. My instructor was very nice and our group was small, especially compared to the newbie group where the ratio was more like 25:1. My group, about 4:1. We started at the bottom of the bunny hill and worked our way up. My lack of coordination reminded me why skiing was not my all-time favorite sport, yet I gained confidence as I accomplished each exercise our instructor was teaching us. I made it down the bunny hill without crashing much and even in-control more than a few times. I was having a pretty good time. Toward the end of our lesson, I looked over and saw my youngest son on the ground, his ski's were all over the place and he was about to be in tears if he wasn't already. His instructor was no where in sight and he looked defeated, discouraged, and forgotton. I gave him the best pep talk I could muster and tracked down his instructor to give him some attention. I left him and continued on with my lesson.
My friend, Laura was in my group, along with two younger gals. Laura had a fear of heights, but had made it to the slopes earlier in the year and had some victory on mastering that fear. We had some great talks and laughs on the ski lift as we conquered the getting on and getting off as gracefully as possible. To tell you how I progressed, the ski-lift-guy at the getting off spot actually applauded me when I managed to exit the lift without falling finally! Laura and I related to each other, our lack of coordination and all, and were excited when our lesson was finished, feeling we were now ready to do some skiing. So the two of us, with our kids-in-tow headed to the next level. Our instructor had assured me the mountain next to us was not much different than the bunny hill. I took his word for it.
My friend, Laura was in my group, along with two younger gals. Laura had a fear of heights, but had made it to the slopes earlier in the year and had some victory on mastering that fear. We had some great talks and laughs on the ski lift as we conquered the getting on and getting off as gracefully as possible. To tell you how I progressed, the ski-lift-guy at the getting off spot actually applauded me when I managed to exit the lift without falling finally! Laura and I related to each other, our lack of coordination and all, and were excited when our lesson was finished, feeling we were now ready to do some skiing. So the two of us, with our kids-in-tow headed to the next level. Our instructor had assured me the mountain next to us was not much different than the bunny hill. I took his word for it.
Laura and I sat next to each other on the lift ride up as we had with most of the bunny-hill exercises. We could do this, we could exit the lift without falling and get on with skiing and we did. Our kids were right behind us so we all started out together at the top of that hill, which at that vantage point was looking quite a bit bigger and steeper then the bunny hill. No matter, I could do this, after all, I had skied down the bunny hill in-control, I knew how to slow down and stop by bending my legs, bringing my ski's together, swishing back and forth to slow the momentum. As soon as we were off I had a mildly troubling thought that I was going really fast, still I was enjoying myself, until..... I felt fear creep in. I was going a whole lot faster than I had been on the bunny hill. Apparently they were going fast too, because within a few seconds they all got ahead of me, way ahead of me, as in I could not see any of them anymore. No problem, I'll catch up with them I thought, but trouble was brewing. I was forgetting rather quickly all the things I had just learned in my ski lesson. This was definitely much steeper than the bunny hill as I careened down the hill in a progressively out-of-control state. "Focus!" I told myself, "Get control!"
The trouble that was brewing was my thoughts, I was giving in to fear. I was losing confidence in my renewed skiing skills, not trusting in them. The thing with fear is it doesn't take much to start the whole anxiety thing. My ski adventure had become a lesson in mind over matter and my mind was giving in to fearful thoughts and at a rapid pace. I quickly spiraled out of control at this point and ended up crashing hard in a sprawled-out manner on the packed snow just outside of the roped-off fence, not far from a tree. If it didn't hurt so much and if I wasn't so scared, and if it hadn't made me so mad to have lost control so quickly, it would have been hilarious. There I was, flat on the ground in a crumpled mess with my ski's buried into the deep snow, my poles were out of reach, I looked very UN-graceful. Glancing around me, I saw I was alone, completely alone. I pushed back the temptation to just lay there and bawl. I realized there was no way out, I had to keep going down that hill, that steep hill that was nothing like the bunny hill! It took more energy than I had just to pull my ski's out of the snow, to reach for my poles, and to get myself in an upright position. My troubles continued to brew because now I had no confidence, no trust in my skiing abilities. Whatever confidence I had gained from that morning lesson was now completely gone, shattered. I had to keep going. I wish I could have trusted in the fact that I had learned the skills to maneuver down that hill. I could've swished down that hill just like I had the bunny hill if I would have trusted in that knowledge. My fears completely took over and I could not get my confidence back. I tried, but crashed again, not as hard this time, but defeated. About one-fourth of the way down, a kind soul appeared and had some sympathy for me and reminded me of some things I was doing wrong. He corrected my technique and encouraged me. I'm thankful for that man, for his reminder that I knew HOW to do this, I had just given in to fear, and lost my faith along with my confidence. I did eventually make it down that mountain, but I had not conquered it, IT had conquered me.
I never did get my confidence back that day. I stuck with the bunny hill for the remainder of the day. My friend Laura, the one with the fear of heights, she overcame her fear that day, she conquered that mountain! She inspired me to not give in to your fears. And my boys, the ones who had never been on ski's, and my youngest who had been near tears in the morning? They rocked that mountain! They all took some hits, but it didn't cause them to give up. Many times God uses my kids to teach me. This was one of those moments. Some day I will have another run at that particular mountain, I want to conquer it, to not leave it as a lasting memory of fear, defeat.
The trouble that was brewing was my thoughts, I was giving in to fear. I was losing confidence in my renewed skiing skills, not trusting in them. The thing with fear is it doesn't take much to start the whole anxiety thing. My ski adventure had become a lesson in mind over matter and my mind was giving in to fearful thoughts and at a rapid pace. I quickly spiraled out of control at this point and ended up crashing hard in a sprawled-out manner on the packed snow just outside of the roped-off fence, not far from a tree. If it didn't hurt so much and if I wasn't so scared, and if it hadn't made me so mad to have lost control so quickly, it would have been hilarious. There I was, flat on the ground in a crumpled mess with my ski's buried into the deep snow, my poles were out of reach, I looked very UN-graceful. Glancing around me, I saw I was alone, completely alone. I pushed back the temptation to just lay there and bawl. I realized there was no way out, I had to keep going down that hill, that steep hill that was nothing like the bunny hill! It took more energy than I had just to pull my ski's out of the snow, to reach for my poles, and to get myself in an upright position. My troubles continued to brew because now I had no confidence, no trust in my skiing abilities. Whatever confidence I had gained from that morning lesson was now completely gone, shattered. I had to keep going. I wish I could have trusted in the fact that I had learned the skills to maneuver down that hill. I could've swished down that hill just like I had the bunny hill if I would have trusted in that knowledge. My fears completely took over and I could not get my confidence back. I tried, but crashed again, not as hard this time, but defeated. About one-fourth of the way down, a kind soul appeared and had some sympathy for me and reminded me of some things I was doing wrong. He corrected my technique and encouraged me. I'm thankful for that man, for his reminder that I knew HOW to do this, I had just given in to fear, and lost my faith along with my confidence. I did eventually make it down that mountain, but I had not conquered it, IT had conquered me.
I never did get my confidence back that day. I stuck with the bunny hill for the remainder of the day. My friend Laura, the one with the fear of heights, she overcame her fear that day, she conquered that mountain! She inspired me to not give in to your fears. And my boys, the ones who had never been on ski's, and my youngest who had been near tears in the morning? They rocked that mountain! They all took some hits, but it didn't cause them to give up. Many times God uses my kids to teach me. This was one of those moments. Some day I will have another run at that particular mountain, I want to conquer it, to not leave it as a lasting memory of fear, defeat.
In using that ski experience in an analogy, I can see how important it is to trust in what I know to be true, and to not give in to fear. It really is mind over matter. That lonely ski experience in some ways parallels my current trial. At times I can forget God's faithfulness and give in to the fear of the unknown, or I can let discouragement and defeat overtake me. I can fall and let my falling shatter my trust that God will perfect the work He began in me and in others around me. It calls me back to simple trust. He has proved Himself to be strong in my weaknesses and if He has allowed my current companions to be Suffering and Sorrow, then He has a purpose in that and He is with me. The Shepherd replied to Much Afraid's fears with: "Fear not, Much Afraid, only believe. I promise that you shall not not be put to shame. Go with Sorrow and Suffering, and if you cannot welcome them now, when you come to the difficult places where you cannot manage alone, put your hands in theirs confidently and they will take you exactly where I want you to go." They did get Much Afraid to the High Places where she realized her companions had been transformed, just like she had. They were no longer Sorrow and Suffering, but had become Joy and Peace, the companions she had wanted all along. She never would have come to truly know her new companions without knowing Sorrow and Suffering.We all have our "hills" to conquer, we all need companions at times to guide us through, and most of all, a faithful Shepherd. We all are in the process of learning to trust. I wish I could say my skiing skills were enough to restore the
confidence I lost on them that day, they were not. If I hope to conquer
that mountain, I will need yet another lesson and I would prefer better
companions than Sorrow and Suffering!
