Flying High — den Boer

A cold sunny Sunday afternoon found Marty, myself and our two middle children, Paul and Michelle, cross-country skiing at the local golf course. We kept our heads down into the wind as we skied across the rolling landscape toward a tobogganing hill Michelle had discovered several days earlier. She led us to the crest of this giant hill where we stood anticipating a long exhilarating run, possibly right to the distant woods.

“You go first, Michelle,” Marty said, thinking he’d give her the honour as this place was her discovery.

Michelle picked up the challenge, but took a tumble right in the middle of the slope.

Paul and Marty quietly discussed and pointed to the base of the hill as they patiently waited for Michelle to untangle herself. From under my wool hat I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Anyway, I really didn’t see the need for a discussion. It was a big hill. I could easily avoid Michelle. There was even a nice track several feet over from where Michelle had wiped out. I pushed off with my poles.

“Watch out for the ramps!” hollered Paul. His words blew away on the wind. I assumed he was yelling some kind of encouragement as I blindly followed the well-worn tracks down the slope. What a lovely hill! Then just as the ground started levelling out, I saw the ramp. It was a wide well-built ramp guaranteed to send any toboggan, sled or snowboard hurling through the air. I was within a ski length of this ramp when I noticed it. I was travelling too fast to bail out. It was too late to steer clear.

Now let me assure you, this 44-year-old woman is not a fearless wonder. I don’t do ramps—if I know about them. I don’t jump off diving boards or ride on roller coasters. Yet here I was flying through the air like Eddie the Eagle. I tried to line up my skis for a graceful landing, but to no avail. The tips of my skis overlapped and I ended in a jumbled heap on a patch of ice. That earned me some rather painful bruises on both knees and elbows.

...but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. 1 Corinthians 2:10.

Looking back, I see that I address life much as I approached that hill. Just as I didn’t see the need for a discussion with Marty and Paul about the hill; in life’s decisions, often I don’t wait for direction from the Holy Spirit. It’s not possible to be Spirit-led if you don’t listen. How can I even want what He wants without being in constant communication?

An excerpt from my book "Blooming"