Pride Before the Fall

by Heather Myer

Skiing for the first time is a quick way to break someone of pride and bring a fast return to humility. My experiences shall be presented in the manner of a Batman and Robin episode circa the 1970s. Nothing brings about true humility like Batman and Robin. A few years ago, some friends went to Colorado on a ski trip. My trainer and I drove through the night while the others soundly dozed through the plains of Kansas. Neither of us had eaten or slept before attempting to ski. Standing at the bottom of the slopes, I timidly peered at the course. All my meters ran on empty. Loopy from lack of sleep and an overabundance of coffee, I clumsily clicked my boots into the skis. *WHAM!* I fell to the ground. Embarrassed, I tried to scramble to my feet. *SMACK!* I flailed a bit and my skis popped off from the force of my fall. The ground was a sheet of ice, packed solid from thousands of vacationers. My trainer helped me to my feet.

“Let’s try a slope!,” he cheerfully suggested. My eyes widened. I couldn’t yet support myself standing still! Nervously, I nodded. He led the way to the ski lifts. “Now, Heather, you must time this just right. The lifts will come behind you and you need to sit down as they come to you.” *BANG!* The lifts never had a chance. I fell on a patch of ice before it could catch me. My pride, as well as my bottom, were sufficiently bruised. I clamored into the cold metal seat. Squirming uncomfortably, I peered over the side. The world below was in miniature. Pine trees and lodges were scattered in the distance. Tiny figures wound their way down snowy hillsides. “Okay, get ready!“ Gracefully, he hopped off the lift. *OUCH!* Unable to stand, my body slammed to the ground. Scrambling away, I approached my friend. *KA-BLAM!*. The force of our collision echoed off the distant peaks.

My trainer looked nervous. He was now trapped on a high slope with girl who spent more time floundering on the ground than standing upright. Glancing down, over the rolling ice, I could not even see the end of the course. “Ready?” he asked. “Un-hunh…” I chattered, my teeth rattling from the cold and my belly growling with hunger. Everything inside me said that this was a very bad idea. We didn’t get far. *POW!* Both of us were on the ground and stared disgruntled at each other. Stubbornly, I crossed my arms and wondered if I could roll down the hill. “Now, Heather, you’re stuck up here! You can’t give up! You need to try.” Rubbing my throbbing side, I attempted to stand. *CRASH!* Dazed, I laid on my back and stared hopelessly at the blue sky. Tears of pain stung in my eyes. My trainer sighed in frustration. Small children, not old enough to know cursive or long division sped past us.

*SPLAT!* Feeling like road kill, I realized that every ounce of pride and dignity had been stripped from me. A grade school kid who could not yet multiply whizzed past us. Sore, bruised, embarrassed, and naked in humility, I rose to face the slope. A tree was in front of us. “Turn left! Heather! Left!” Wildly, I twisted and turned, but nothing happened. I could only turn right, not left. My eyes widened as I neared the pine. A morning of falling had taught me a few lessons. *THUD!* If only Sonny Bono had been able to fall half as well as I, he and Cher might still be doing reunion tours. After nearly 2 hours of brief stints of skiing followed by falls, we successfully made it to the bottom of the course.

That night, I slept soundly and ate well in the lodge. My sore limbs thawed by the fireplace. Refreshed, I refocusing my attentions and tackled the slopes. Miraculously I did not fall the next day. My pride was replaced by a spirit of humility. Rather than focusing on my failure, I was awed by God’s creation. The bright intensity of the powdery snow, the distant forest, and the brisk breeze all captivated my attention. For one brief weekend, I was able to enjoy the mountains richly draped in splendor.

Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world from everlasting to everlasting you are God. —Isaiah 52:7