a painful parable

One of the things I aspire to do in this new year is to learn how to cross country ski. You know those women? Those athletic, graceful, good at everything they try and make it look easy women? I am not one of those. I am tall and gangly, I often trip over my own feet, or run into doorways instead of walking through them. But I am an northern Ontarian now... and with this identity comes specific obligations. I feel that a minimal amount of outdoorsyness is required. So on Friday, I enlisted a wonderful and patient friend to walk me through the basics. I pulled on the boots, and felt that I at least looked the part, carried my rental skies across the terrain watching people of all ages gliding blissfully without a care or concern past me and onto the trail. They made it look easy. "I can do this!" I thought with enthusiasm. So I stepped into the first ski, slipped and wobbled a little, got my bearings, stepped into the second ski and started sliding backwards down the slope. My friend talked me through the essentials, I nodded bravely, not feeling nearly so confident now that my feet had elongated several feet in either direction and become both slippery and rather unruly. And away we went. Over hill and dale, (mostly hill) with me consistently wiping out at the bottom of each slope. Truthfully, I wanted to quit. Have you ever seen "A League of Their Own"? It's a baseball movie; Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Madonna?  Anyway, one of the ball players slides into home and gets this wicked huge multicoloured bruise. I have one of those - you might say it's in a league of its' own...
So there I was, out skiing, wanting to quit but having to keep getting up and moving forward. As much as I wanted to just sit in a snow bank, I couldn't. Life is like that. There are times when there are some pretty epic wipeouts, some pretty painful moments for your posterior, times when you'd rather not continue because you might fall again and that, as you have just experienced, will most likely be more painful than you care to endure. But we still have to keep moving forward.
There were, even in that short experience, also moments of triumph. The victory of not crashing at the bottom of a hill. The thrill of a good rhythm and glide (on the dale portion). The wonder of a silent and beautiful not too cold night. The blessing of a good travelling companion who encouraged me and waited with me and winced for me with each crash.
God is good, and He is worth travelling forward with. In this new year, let's not miss the victory moments because we're too afraid or too hurt or too stubborn to keep moving forward.

Hebrews 12:1-2 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the  race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.