Something you may not know about me.
I love to ski.
I’m not a jumper, and I leave the moguls to those that get something out of the jarring.
But I love to ski.
I love the push of a blue just as much as I love the mental force of a black.
I love to ride the wonder carpet behind my littlest and listen to him chatter about an imaginary snowboard race he’s about to take part in.
I love the wiggle of skeletal trees when the wind puff’s its way across participant spotted runs.
I love the quiet chair lift ride, with my face exposed to the open air and the sound of joy braided into the sound of the fiberglass edge of a ski pushing through groomed snow.
I recently spent two years sitting on a couch while cancer and chemotherapy vied for my destruction. My lungs and muscles took a big hit and it’s taken a while to remind them that I’m really not as old as I have felt some days.
Being healthy enough to get out there and ski, gives me back a compelling.
A way to breath deep and listen to my own soul.
Skiing gives me a place to see the majesty of Christ’s power.
His power to heal me, and to love what has been sliced apart and made new.
His power to watch three kids bear downhill with a sense of boldness only granted to those who know that, once upon a time, today might not have been.
His power to stand a broken girl up on the precipice of faithfulness and fun, and slide down in surrender with skies overhead and saving grace gushing up under her coat.
His power seen in a marriage that had every prescribed reason to fall apart, but instead fell into place and solidified itself in the concrete of covenant.
And, yes, all this happens out there on those hills.
Skiing gives me a chance to bend at the knee and brave the bumps and nod ‘yes’ at the beautiful way He’s allowed me to live this one life.
Skiing is a gift to me that I am so grateful for.
I love to swim…the feel of the water flowing by me is very relaxing…it is both spiritual and physical…I swim a mile 3-4 times/week…I think skiing would be have similar effect…