From Declaring Jesus as Lord to Snowshoeing

What happens when I wake up daily and declare Jesus as Lord over my life? Uttering words like "Jesus is Lord over my mind, body, and soul and how they work together… Jesus is Lord over my thoughts and feelings…” Well, this past week it ended up with me, my family, and friends, snowshoeing.

Oh, how I had wanted to love downhill skiing. After all, I love waterskiing, I am somewhat in shape, I bought all the right gear, I love the outdoors, adventures, and being active. Some of my favorite friends love skiing, my husband and kids have picked it up, and so I wanted to love it too. Sadly, though, I am afraid skiing and I may not work out. I’m not willing to say it will never happen, but I definitely have some hesitations. 

Let me explain....

Age-wise, I am in my early 40s. Experience-wise, I was 4 days into downhill skiing (not 4 days this trip, 4 days ever). After last year's confidence-building day on the bunny slopes in Taos, I was fully ready to spend this year’s Spring Break tearing up the green trails of AngelFire. I had always imagined being a family who hit the slopes for Spring Break, and now it was finally happening.

We arrived in AngelFire, got our lift tickets, and warmed up. After three runs of perfecting the french fry, pizza, and s-curves, I was feeling pretty sassy and ready for my first green ever. My husband, James, needed a quick break to fix his boot, and he asked if I would prefer to wait for him so he could help me up if I fell. I decided not to break my momentum, so I went ahead and jumped on the lift to the top with some of my favorite gal pals.

The lift soared high and fast with breathtaking views. On the lift, I suddenly became very aware that I had heavy weights on my feet (some call these skis) and the only thing separating me from plummeting to the earth was a thin metal bar. When I arrived at the top, I made a lift exit worthy of going viral as an Instagram bloopers reel. One ski went one way, and I went the other. With the help of the AngelFire employees, we got me all back together and I went on my way.

My oldest daughter was already on the mountain, so I said that I wanted to say hi to her before embarking on my first run on a green. Then, I casually picked up my phone, called my husband and youngest daughter who were still at the bottom of the mountain, and said, "HELP....I likely won't come down this monster mountain without you helping me." My gal pals smiled when I said that my husband and daughter were now on their way up, then they poked fun at me when they realized I had called my family in for backup. I said, in my most confident voice, "Listen, I am a strong independent (scratch that) codependent woman, and I'd like my better half to be here."

They came up, and then it was downhill from there (pun intended).

You see, I wake up most days and declare Jesus as Lord over my life, my space, and my roles in life. I say things like, "Jesus is Lord over my mind, body, and soul and how they work together… Jesus is Lord over my thoughts and feelings…" So, how in the world was I suddenly flooded with every deep and dark fear that I had inside of this very fleshy body of mine? The nice and gently sloped green run looked like a steep black. My mind was flooded with thoughts of me falling off the mountain, with one of my kids falling off the mountain (which, by the way, they were skiing like pros at this point), with me not being able to stop myself and taking everyone down with me, with me having to turn in my skis and have my self-assigned title of athletic-adventure-gal ripped from me as I sat in shame at a resort table growing slow and old. 

So many thoughts flooded in at once, and then the uncontrollable tears followed. A ski patrol stopped to check on me, and I fired back at him that I was clearly "FINE." He kindly told me to drink water, and I asked him how I was supposed to do that because all I saw was snow, and I didn't have a pot to melt the snow in. Poor guy. That was just one of the myriad of things I spouted out. No pep talk or encouraging word could console me, and I sincerely apologize for the words I said when that level of fear came over me.

I reluctantly finally agreed to let ski patrol pick me up. I rode on the back of a snowmobile with a fella named Andrew to the lift at the top of the mountain that was delivering me to the bottom of the mountain.

As I was on the snowmobile, I was reminded of all the times I had felt the way I did right then… on top of the pyramids in Mexico when I turned to walk down and realized how high I was… when I was on the top of the mountain stairs in Colorado, I turned to walk down and realized how high I was… or when I was tandem skydiving and realized the instructor was attached to the parachute, and I was attached to the instructor, so in my mind, I became nervous she would release the straps holding us together and cut me out of the deal.

Heights, it seems I can handle them if there is some other sense of control in the matter (like a roller coaster with a strong harness, or if I can close my eyes and just get through it), but when the fear of heights kicked in, I immediately went into fight or flight mode. Flight wasn't an option on skis, my friends wouldn't let me hike three miles down hill in my snow boots while carrying my skis, so ski patrol it was.

Andrew drove me back to the top of the mountain and put me on that same fast lift with the very thin bar between me and the earth. Except this time, it was moving quickly in a downhill motion. Jesus help me. I locked my arms straight out like a weirdo, so my back was pressed firmly against the back of the chairlift, and my body was not able to move. I closed my eyes and sang, "My fear doesn't stand a chance when I stand in your love," "I am standing on The Rock." I wish I was standing on a rock, not on this lift, I thought, but continued to sing, "God, I am standing in Your love."

I rode all the way down, and as if the resort BGM had a sense of humor, the song playing as the chairlift neared my exit was "Another One Bites the Dust."

How can I declare Jesus as Lord and yet be faced with so much fear? Fear isn't from God, but there I was sitting in it in all my fleshly desires, desires that I’m not really in control of. The need be the person I painted myself to be, the need to protect my kids, all of it. I know God has it all under control, but I certainly could not rest in that promise in that moment. Being on a mountain with my family and friends was what I had in mind; I had painted a picture of what that looked like and was incredibly aggravated when what I had painted was not reality. But being on a mountain with my family and friends was exactly what God had in mind; it just looked different than I was expecting.

We got back to the VRBO, I wasn’t willing to say I would never downhill ski again, but with a short trip and big emotions I felt a need to pivot. I began googling, "What can I do that's outdoors and active in the snow but is not downhill skiing to my death?"

Snowshoeing.

Well, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing. But in a moment's notice, snowshoeing seemed like the easiest to access. I bribed my youngest to join me, my husband usually joins my wild and crazy ideas, my oldest was tired from intense skiing and snowshoeing seemed like a nice change of pace, and it turned out several friends in the group were willing to come along as well. We stopped at the ski shop to ask about switching our ski gear out for snowshoeing gear, and the employees all kinda looked at us like we were asking for an 8-track player in the age of online-streaming-music like Spotify. They reached into their time capsule, pulled out seven pairs of shoes, and the owner dug in her SUV for one more pair. She found it, and that made eight pairs, which was just the amount we needed. When we were finished getting fitted, one fella spoke up and recommended we make a twenty-five-minute drive to the Enchanted Forest to do our first Snowshoeing adventure. The Echanted Forest sounded either magical or fake. Either way, we were in.

Our travel Agent friend Chris (Aka Travel with the Duke) called ahead, and found they had plenty of spots open. The Enchanted Forest Cross Country Ski Area was a snow-capped mountain full of large trees. It looked like something from a scene in the Chronicles of Narnia. We drove twenty-five minutes, made our way up the gravel road, parked, and walked to the welcome center. I was all-in for this to be a magical experience. I looked at the fellow working the counter and asked if he had any tips or tricks for snowshoeing; without skipping a beat, he said, "You walked up here, so pretty much nailed it." Boom. We strapped on our shoes and followed the trails through the mountains.

The gift in all of this was time together in nature. It was different than I was expecting, but it was a gift from God and was wonderful. After our hike, we started talking about cross-country skiing in the future with the hopes of flatter terrain that won't send me into a panic attack (it’s worth a try). 

Walking with Jesus doesn't make us invincible. It doesn't mean we won't have anxiety; it doesn't mean we won't have feelings. It doesn't mean that our fears won't surface, it doesn’t mean we can always overcome our fears, and it doesn't mean that things will look the way we have painted perfection in our minds. It does mean that we can work through our feelings with God, knowing that He's a good God. He's big enough for our feelings and emotions, and He wants good things for us. It does mean that he can work through all things for good (even our fear). It does mean that we can lay down the ideas of perfection we have painted for ourselves and pick up what God has in store for us. 

This week it was snowshoeing.

(For those interested in planning a travel adventure, think cruises or any other trips, and even pivoting on plans if something doesn't go as planned- check out our friend's page: https://www.travelwiththeduke.com)