Off the Trail

What skiing taught me about God.

Diana Bruch is a retired pastor's wife and former director of the Adventist Community Services for the Michigan Conference and Lake Union. She earned a degree in nursing from Columbia Union College (now Washington Adventist University) and became a certified senior adviser. She enjoys her three children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She has always loved Jesus and telling stories to help other love Him also.

AFTER SCHEDULING A SKI VACATION to Mt. Hood in Oregon, I heard that three hikers were lost on the mountain. My family watched for live news updates and prayed they would be safe. The search unfolded over the next week, but by the time we got on the airplane, the report was grim. My family and I vowed to stay in the skiing area and avoid obvious danger.

From the plane window I counted five mountaintops rising taller than the clouds. I couldn’t wait to ski “above the clouds.” When we got to our resort at the base of the mountains, we saw no snow. So we went for forest walks and golfed without coats, hoping we’d find snow on the ski trails. Thankfully, as we drove up the mountain to the ski lodge one day, snow started to appear. By the time we got there the snow was higher than our car.

I carried my snow gear to the first of three ski lifts, as it was too warm to wear it all. By the second lift I’d zipped up my coat, and by the third lift I’d put on all my winter gear and was thankful for every bit of it. I couldn’t believe the difference in the weather between the base of the mountain and where I now stood only partway to the top. I enjoyed looking out to the other mountains peeking above the clouds.

Then I started skiing down in what I thought was the right direction. After I’d descended into the cloud, though, visibility was severely diminished, further hampered by the snowfall. Things went OK until I fell right into the deep ruts of the enormous snow-grooming machine, nowhere near the trail. That rut was so deep I had to take off my skies and throw them over my head before I could claw my way up and out. Putting my skies back on, I tried skiing to the right, finding the trail farther over. Out of cloud cover now, I started enjoying normal skiing again.

Not wanting to go all the way down to warm weather, I decided to take the second lift. While waiting, I noticed a sign that read: “WARNING: Stay only on the ski trails. You or your heirs will have to pay the expensive costs of your rescue or recovery if you ski off-trail.”

That was a cryptic sign, I thought, wondering what harrowing stories required its placement.

After skiing awhile more, I stopped to rest by the trail’s edge. That’s when I spotted a snow-covered off-trail path picturesquely winding through a pine grove. Oh, it looks so inviting, I thought. I hesitated, thinking of the rut I’d already fallen in, the lost hikers, and the sign.

My grandfather once told me if you have to stop to think whether it’s right or wrong, it’s wrong. Whenever I haven’t followed this advice, I’ve been sorry. But in the end the allure of the beautiful mountain scenery and the irresistible, harmless-looking meandering path won me over. It looks safe, and I’m sure everything will be OK, I rationalized. So I went for it.


MISTAKE
Skiing was easy at the start, and I had the most fun I’d had all day. I was screaming with laughter, which is a rare event. I expected to intersect a groomed ski trail farther down the mountain and felt fully confident I could do this without mishap. The beautiful scenery and the quietness of the off-trail mountain seclusion were captivating. It doesn’t get any better than this, I thought.

I was skiing very fast because the hill was steep. Ski carving around obstacles was fun and made it more interesting. At first the obstacles were few and far between, but before long the terrain changed. As the obstacles became larger and more frequent, I started having to make way too many decisions way too fast for my comfort zone. Should I go left or right? Through the trees or around them? Over the hump or around it? This had crossed the line from fun to concern.

Going too fast to avoid a V-shaped tree, I barely got my long skiis together in time to fit through the small space, almost injuring my leg. Forced to ski beyond the top of my ability, I found my concern turn to fear as another tree loomed ahead. I barely ducked in time to miss a branch and a painful head injury. I kept up my intense skiing, realizing I couldn’t let up for a second. I was getting very tired.

I was in serious danger from what looked so innocuous at the beginning. Remembering that cryptic warning sign made me even more uncomfortable. I feared I was not up for this excursion after all. I tried to slow down, but the steep grade scoffed at all my efforts. I remembered the promise of Psalm 48:1: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” I was in trouble, but I never doubted that God would answer my prayers for help. “The one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out” (John 6:37).

It was frightening to think that I had told no one where I was going. There was no one nearby to hear my cry for help, and no one was going to just happen by and notice me. This was entirely my fault.

As humans we’re far too good at ignoring warning signs for our safety. We rationalize, Oh, it will be all right just this once. It seems safe enough. God gives us a guardrail of love for our safety and happiness, and He wants only what’s best for us, so He warns us of the dangers we must avoid in order to live our best lives. I was sure I wouldn’t be a recovery from this forbidden fun, but I did wonder if I was going to become a rescue because of a potential broken bone or concussion.


SAFE!
Though the scenery was unparalleled for beauty, I barely noticed it as I narrowly avoided serious injury three more times. Relief flooded over me when I—now exhausted and breathless—slid out onto the lower trail. Stopping to catch my breath and recuperate, I thanked God that I was finally safe, and I promised myself I would never do anything so reckless or stupid again.

So why did I make such a big error in judgment? I had all the evidence I needed: three lost hikers, my own fall into the deep rut, and a written warning that should have prompted me to make the correct and safe decision.

We have four tools God provides for our decision-making. First, the Ten Commandments. If something violates one of these, it’s a no-brainer. Second, God’s Word that warns us “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23). He’s kind enough not to let us dodge off to live our lives without an instruction manual to guide us. Third, biblical examples give us warnings, such as the stories of Samson, King Saul, and King David in the Old Testament. In the New Testament the stories of Judas and Ananias and Sapphira show us the end from the beginning. Fourth, good advice from godly mentors. Whenever I heeded my grandfather’s advice, I wasn’t sorry.

Still, we often make the unsafe, unwise, and sorrow-inducing decisions that cause us so much pain. Life is often harsh, and we have to live with the results of our sin. Yet God always answers our prayers for rescue, even though we often end up paying some consequences. Our loving God is merciful. His Word is clear that sin is to be avoided, but His promises are as sure as His love, and His love for us is greater than we can imagine.

We are reassured by the promise in 1 John 1:9: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Jesus encourages us in His promise in John 14:16: “I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may abide with you forever.” He promises His Holy Spirit to help in our weakness. Remember that God sees you, hears you, and loves you always.

Diana Bruch is a retired pastor's wife and former director of the Adventist Community Services for the Michigan Conference and Lake Union. She earned a degree in nursing from Columbia Union College (now Washington Adventist University) and became a certified senior adviser. She enjoys her three children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She has always loved Jesus and telling stories to help other love Him also.