Chapter 9 Presley #3
At first, I laughed. This wasn’t going to do in any circumstance; surely, there was a way around this.
But when I looked to the right and left, every part of the terrain around me formed into a lip of a bowl that this run was.
The sign, indicating the run was a double black and topped with several inches of powder, read “Dilemma.” It surely was that; yes.
Never in all my years of skiing had I encountered a run so daunting. I’d purposely avoided things this steep, hard, and out of reach for a reason—I wasn’t ready to face them. I wasn’t ready to learn the skills required of me. I wasn’t ready to grow for the challenge.
I called out to God, who instantly made me think of the correlation between this run and my dating life; or at least, the pathetic attempt at one.
I had let everyone who hurt my feelings over the years dim my spirit.
My mind. My confidence. I was good enough to find someone who loved me for me. I was good enough to do this ski run.
“Lord, thank You for letting me rise up to the challenge. You’ve put the desire in my heart to find a husband, and I will not back down from it.
I will also not back down from this run that I’ve just stumbled upon.
Please keep me safe, Lord. Amen.” As I prayed out loud, I heard a familiar scraping behind me start to creep closer and closer.
Just as I was taking my last few breaths to attempt this descent at a perfect 90-degree angle, the scraping came up right behind me, scaring me as they made an abrupt stop and coating me in powder. I may or may not have screamed, scaring them in return.
The shock and fright from the snowboarder almost running into me, and the coating of powder from head to toe, freezing every part of me that had exposed skin—like my nose, mouth and wrists— sent me moving before I was entirely ready.
On the steep terrain, I couldn’t stop as easily as I could on a Blue or Green run; heck, even a regular Black run would have been easier than this.
But this run was beyond an advanced level—this was for experts only.
There was only one thing I could do in this very moment, and that was get a grip before it made its complete vertical drop. Spoiler alert: I did not get a grip.
I’d never screamed so much in my life. For half of the run that I remained upright and standing on my skis, my screams were coherent.
For the other half where I went down on my tail end, thankfully feet first, it was more of a groan.
People usually say, “It happened so fast” when things like this go down.
This felt like it took forever. When I finally slowed, I wondered if I had missed the Winter Games.
Was it already tomorrow morning, and I’d been gone all night? Could I just go home now?
As the sliding slowed, I reached out and grabbed a hold of an aspen tree that was next to my path.
From here, I would try and regain some dignity and sense of stability.
Surely, a crowd would have formed at the top of the run, and they were all holding their breath to see if I was going to slide all the way back down to base.
Maybe then, I could be stopped by the security for the Winter Games.
Heck, maybe I could enter the games in the “human bobsled” category.
Using all the strength I had left to get a literal grip on myself, I sat up.
My skis were gone. One rogue ski pole in eyesight, but after looking at it again, I realized it wasn’t mine.
This must have been the skier’s trail of embarrassment.
There were many who came before me—those who forged this path and the things they left behind to be remembered.
I made it to my feet, but my quads were trembling uncontrollably.
My ears were ringing, and I felt like I had just dropped hundreds of feet in elevation in an elevator—because I had.
Between the fright and the embarrassment, I thought I’d gotten my fill of skiing for the day.
A quick assessment let me know nothing was broken or maybe I just had that much adrenaline pumping through my veins?
“Hey, are these yours?” a skier shouted out to me as he approached at lightning speed, holding my skis and poles.
“Nah, I think they belonged to that woman who slid down screaming. She already skied off. I’m just here hanging out.” I reached for the skis as the man lingered.
“That was pretty impressive back there. This is a really difficult run; probably the hardest one I’ve ever encountered,” he said, looking back. I followed his eyes and cringed at the fact that there was a crowd of people standing at the top and looking over.
“And here you are, having just glided down like it was a children's learning area.” Clipping back into my skis, my legs felt wobbly. I could tell I was going to need a minute to get my wits about me again.
“I’ve practiced this run a lot. I’ve probably done it five hundred times,” he said.
“Well, that was my first time trying a double Black Diamond. I can only say I’ve done a handful of Black Diamonds in my life.
At least this one wasn’t full of moguls.
I’d probably be requiring knee surgery right now if it was,” I quipped, noticing the man was about my age.
Just then, he lifted his goggles up, and I saw his face.
He had a boyish charm to him as he stood there.
I couldn’t help but notice him lingering.
“I like a woman that's fearless,” he said. Wait, was he flirting with me? After that abominable scene I just put on? I was covered in chunks of ice, and my throat was raw from screaming.
“God sure does have a sense of humor,” I said, to which he looked confused.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes forming a squint.
“Oh, I just was up at the top of this mountain praying for my love life and protection and now, here I am, at the bottom of the run, talking to a man. It's just funny timing, is all.”
“I don’t believe in God,” he said, the words that broke my heart to hear.
“Do you believe in the skis on your feet?” I asked. He looked down at his skis, which I noticed were a very expensive brand.
“Sure. These are from Austria. The best of the best.” He crossed his arms; his ski poles going out in both directions.
“Did someone make them?” He squinted again.
“Well, of course. They are handmade by an expert artisan. Someone who spent years learning the trade and became a master at the skill,” his voice softening as he spoke.
“So, if there’s no God, who made all of this?” I put my arms up and marveled at the beauty of the area we were standing in. From the large mountains to the snowy aspen groves; the sky was bright and the sun was shining, creating a sparkling on every surface around us.
“There’s this thing that we call ‘The Big Bang’,” he started to say.
“Ah. So, nothing created everything?” He tilted his head from side to side after I asked that question.
“I mean, I wouldn’t explain it like that. There’s more to it.”
“Like what?” It was at this point of conversation with men that they usually started to get annoyed. I had found in my experience that people do not like to question the things they have been taught or believed their whole life to be false.
“I can’t explain it. I just. . . know it to be true,” he said quietly.
“Sounds a lot like faith,” I said. “Have you ever heard the gospel?” I asked as he looked up behind him, searching for his way out as sounds of people shredding in the snow could be heard around us.
“I’m not really into religion,” he said.
“Jesus isn’t a religion; it’s a relationship,” I said.
“I don’t mean for that to sound cliche, but it's true. God created the heavens and the earth and everything inside of it. He sent His one and only son, Jesus Christ, to earth, and Jesus was put to death, dying for all of our sins. When we accept Jesus into our hearts and lives and repent of our earthly ways, we are born again. Living for God means having a personal relationship with Him.”
“And you have this? A relationship with Him? Or do you just think you do?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he was being snarky or genuinely interested.
“I have it. He speaks to us all the time. It’s just a matter of whether you are ready to listen,” I said. He shrugged.
“Well, I better go.” He firmly gripped his ski poles and started to glide away.
“Will you consider what we talked about?” I asked, calling out to him. He didn’t respond. Lord, I don’t know what that was—I did not have “witness someone immediately after a fall” on my agenda for the day, but I pray that seed produces fruit.
As I started to slowly go down the terrain in front of me, I smiled. The Lord really does work in mysterious ways. Here I was, thinking He sent me someone right after that wreck. But instead, He sent me an opportunity to add another soul to eternity with Him.
“Lord, once again I am reminded that all things work together for the good of Your glory, not mine. And I thank You for that opportunity, and I pray that I can be ready if another one arises.”
The double Black Diamond run turned into a Blue after I got out of the tree grove, thankfully. My tired body was ready to have some lunch and get ready to spectate the Winter Games.
Sadly, I felt that things were done with Ford and me—not that they ever had started, I meant.
But I had so very much hoped that they would have been starting.
Like that night we did the puzzle together—he was so sweet to join me.
Or, when we had hot chocolate in the lodge.
We had a spark—or so I thought. There was banter—or maybe it was his one-sided annoyance.
Ford had a past, but didn’t we all? From what I knew about him from the internet and what he’d told me, he had some emotional hurdles to jump. And I prayed that when he did, and he was ready for a relationship, the right woman came along for him. I just wished that it had been me.
Once I reached the bottom, I skied until I ran out of snow and walked back to the chalet. It was time to get ready for the Winter Games.