
I snapped this photo of Ethan and I about 5 minutes before I made a huge mistake; one which could have ended in him getting severely injured or honestly could have killed him. You see, it was the perfect bluebird day, we were rippin’ groomers, he was turning, stopping, rocking the power wedge, smiling ear-to-ear, lots of fist bumps… You get the idea…and then 3 or 4 minutes after I snapped this photo I thought he was ready to go “off harness” (or ski without me pulling him from behind). He followed me so carefully and slowly down the cat walk, stopped on his own several times, then we started going down the ski run. Â And then it happened…. Slow motion at first, but then he was gaining speed, gaining speed, passing me and still gaining speed and he was bee-lining it straight down the ski run; not doing any of the things he had been doing the rest of the day up until that point. And I was screaming at him to “stop,” “stop Ethan stop,” “stop!” And he wouldn’t stop and then there were just trees ahead of us and a giant catwalk with a ledge that I knew could potentially launch him into the trees and rocks and whatever else below…and I couldn’t catch him, and I was screaming, and my heart was beating out of my chest, and I finally got close enough that I was contemplating skiing into him to take him out and measuring in my head what would be worse; potential injuries of me taking him out or the alternative, flying off the catwalk into the trees and rock field below.
And then I witnessed a miracle; not two feet from the edge of the catwalk he caught an edge, double ejected and finally stopped. Â It was horrible.
Those moments were horrible and even worse is thinking about how this day, that started so perfectly, so beautifully, could have ended so very differently, so very ugly.
Many of you would say “complete #momfail” and yes, yes it was. Â But I’m a Christian and I know feelings of guilt are not from the Lord but from the lying mouth of Satan. Â God allowed this to happen but you guys, he also allowed the miracle of nothing to happen (to Ethan) because no joke, I witnessed a miracle today. Â That’s the only explanation I have – it was a miracle Ethan didn’t go flying off into the abyss today.
So, why am I telling you this story? Â Because it’s a love story that I think all parents or anyone who has ever loved anyone else or who knows what it feels like to be willing to lay down their life for another, can relate to. And, I strongly feel that anytime God allows himself to be seen mightily working through events (both good or bad), it’s an opportunity for growth and learning.
Here’s what I learned today, and I figure if I learned something by having my heart literally pop out of my chest, there might be something here for you too:
Moments are important. Â You’ve heard this before but your life, the lives of those you love can change in an instant. Â Heaven forbid those moments take a turn for the worse because of a decision you made, like the poor decision I made today.
Pride is dangerous. Â Most of us have heard all the things love isn’t, and love is definitely NOT proud! Â I was not loving Ethan when I put my pride in his ability to ski today; I wanted to show off his “skills” to make his daddy and our friends proud of him, just as I was. Â It is horribly shameful to admit this but I must: my pride could have cost all of us a lot today.
Finally, the most important lesson I learned today was about love and sacrifice. When I was skiing down that mountain chasing after Ethan, my arms flailing, my adrenaline rushing, every possible good and bad scenario flashing through my mind, the most powerful thought was that I would do anything to save him. I was desperate for anything to enter my mind that would allow me to save him; something to throw at him to steer him off course, some part of his body to grab onto, questioning if I should run into his skis to stop him, or throw myself on him to stop him. I had nothing. I could do nothing to help him, to save him.
I spent a lot of time yesterday reflecting on the incident. Earlier that morning we had attended church for Palm Sunday and the image of Jesus riding the donkey into Jerusalem right before he was crucified entered my mind. And then it hit me; there I was struggling and wanting to so badly do anything in my power to stop Ethan, to save him from the pain he most likely would endure if he went off the ledge, and I had nothing; I had no power, I could do nothing. I wonder how God felt knowing that he had all the power, in all of the universe, incomprehensible power, and could have easily breathed the words, or just even thought them, to save his son Jesus from being crucified on the cross. God had all the power in the world and used restraint so that those who believe in him shall have eternal life, but he sacrificed his one and only son so that we may have life. I had nothing, no power to save Ethan yet would have given up everything to save him in that moment. It is staggering to think he had all the knowledge and the power in universe to save his child but did not. Instead he sacrificed his one and only child for the benefit of others.
So today as we go into Easter week, I want you to meditate on these thoughts. How hard it must have been for God to let his child enter into Jerusalem, knowing the fate that would beget him; knowing that he could save him yet didn’t/wouldn’t for the benefit of mankind. Think about the sacrifice, the pain. And then, if you have ever been a parent, try to imagine the heartbreak of having to watch your own flesh and blood be tortured and then nailed to the cross, and have the control to sit there, silently upon your hands, and just watch. This is the sacrifice God made when extended hope to mankind, he was willing to endure that pain just as his son Jesus was willing to endure it on the cross, so that we may have life.
Hug your babies a little tighter tonight when you tuck them in and remember this: life can change in a moment, love is not proud, the greatest sacrifice anyone has ever made is God sending his only son, his son who had lived a perfect life, to die a criminal’s death; the death we all deserve in our imperfectness but by grace alone are we saved from.
xo
Jen