I tried something new.
And [spoiler alert] I wasn't good at it.
"Let's go skiing!" My friends said. The season was almost over, and they all wanted to go after getting almost a foot of snow here in Ohio. I'm not the most athletically inclined and I hate being cold, so initially I didn't want to go. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to give it a shot. I decided to tag along on the ski trip and be adventurous.
I got off to a rough start. I had never done anything remotely close to skiing before, and my brother-in-law had to push me up the little hill to get to the bunny hill. I just couldn't get the hang of moving with skis on my feet that were half the size of my body! But I didn't let that discourage me. I got to the top of the bunny hill and thought, "This doesn't look too bad!"
I was promptly taught the most important thing you can learn while skiing: how to stop. For my non-skiing readers, you drive your heels out in a motion that makes your skis resemble a slice of pizza. I stayed in place and practiced the motion a few times before putting it into practice down the hill. I watched as little kids and their parents inched down the hill and novice skiers got warmed up. "If they can do it, so can I!"
In case you didn't know, practicing something and actually doing it are quite different. I wouldn't say I was terrible, but it took me awhile to feel comfortable being able to stop when I wanted to. When I was finally able to go down the bunny hill successfully a few times, we took on the next hill.
I started off just "pizza-ing" down the slope in order to keep a steady, slow pace. My teachers were great, showing me the ropes and helping me stop when I needed to. "This isn't too bad," I thought. I decided to try to ski normally, thinking I would be fine to just go down the hill.
Not my smartest move.
I started accelerating and let out a squeal. I felt like I was going to fall over! "Pizza!" my friends called after me. "Pizza! Pizza!"
"I'm trying!" I was desperately trying to form a triangle with my skis, but wasn't driving my heels out hard enough. Like I said, practicing something and actually doing it are two completely different things.
"I'm halfway down the hill. I can make it!" I thought to myself. Just then, I started really speeding up. I would either need to stop successfully, make myself fall over, or crash into the pole holding the ski lift up. I chose the second option.
Remembering the warning not to fall backward, lest you keep going on your butt, I threw myself sideways... but forgot to lift my foot and ended up on my butt anyway, sliding down the hill like my backside was a sled. As I flipped over to the side in an attempt to stop my sliding, my right ski came off my boot and flew a couple feet up the hill. What a sight to see!
I eventually got up, and the cycle started over again... except this time, I made it all the way to the bottom of the hill without falling.
"YOU DID IT!" my friends were so proud of me. "Do you want to try again?"
"I'm never doing that again."
"Oh, come on, Erin! You only fell once! That was so good!"
"No, that was awful! I was so scared! I'm going to wait here and recover. You go again, I'll be fine here."
While I watched them ski down the hill I had just wiped out on, I blinked back tears of frustration. Why couldn't I just be good at this? In the moment, I was so caught up on how ridiculous I must have looked and how scared I was to feel so out of control.
Okay, so I was a little dramatic. But there's more to the story.
After deciding to throw in the towel, I trekked back to the lodge in my giant boots, carrying my skis and a burden on my shoulders.
"Jesus, why am I so upset right now? I'm mad at myself for being mad at myself for not being good at something new. What is my problem?"
"You're putting your worth in your works and not in My love."
I stopped in my tracks and realized my problem was deeper than the issue at hand. My problem wasn't just that I fell or that I was scared. I was actually feeling not enough because I wasn't good at something.
Sure, we were all disappointed I decided to give up, but did my friends love me any less for not being good at something? Of course not. They actually applauded me for trying and for recognizing my limits, and for needing help. God does the same thing. He loves when we try something new and He helps us up when we fall down. And He doesn't love us any less when we need help.
My friends entered the lodge with snow on their shoes, laughing and shivering and sweating. "Wait until you hear what happened!" They told me their stories of wiping out on the big slopes and having to ski down scary hills and falling and getting up. And I learned something from them.
You can laugh at your failures knowing that they don't define you.
So, this blog post comes to you not from a place of hurt, frustration, and venting, but from a place of understanding. And when I tell this story, I can laugh at myself knowing that I can't do anything to earn or lose the love of Jesus.
He simply loves me.
xoxo, Erin