At 3 years old, I waddled up to a ski slope for the first time in a hot pink insulated suit and clicked into snow skis. My father owns ski shops, so growing up, I belonged to a family that skied often.
I struggle a bit with being overly optimistic. (Perhaps that is better stated as arrogant!) At 8 or 9 years old, my family went skiing in Vermont. Looking down from the chairlift, I felt confident I could handle the double-black diamond below, the most difficult of slopes. My dad knew better. I pestered and nagged, begging to be allowed to add this calibre of run to my skiing resume. Finally, he relented. “Fine. I don’t think you are ready, but let’s do it.”
Once you were on it, the angle of the slope appeared to be a 90 degree drop. The face of the mountain, a sheet of ice, sounded like the sharpening of a knife as skis sliced across. An eighth of the way down, it was clear I was not ready for this slope. My dad picked me up and scooted part way down the mountain until it was necessary for both of us to take off our skis and slide on our backsides the rest of the way. In his graciousness, he never said, “I told you so.” I gained an ounce or two of humility that day.
Sometimes our Heavenly Father says, “Not yet” or “You aren’t ready,” and we disagree. In arrogance, we think we know better.
“But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him” (Jeremiah 17:7, NIV).
Trusting God for the timing of our lives and what we can do is difficult when ambition, desire, or even arrogance cloud our vision. Make it your practice to daily transfer your gaze from yourself and place your confidence in your Heavenly Father.
That kind of consistent surrender will save you the trouble of slippery slopes!
