Skiing was all I had on my mind.
There was nothing I liked more than grabbing my cross-country skis on a sunny winter day and leaving everything else behind. I drove out to the local nature preserve. There was real freedom in being out there alone, just me, the snow and the sky.
The day was so beautiful, I stayed out way later than I should’ve. How can I go back to my day-to-day life when I’ve got all of this? I thought as I whizzed down a small slope. The sky darkened and the wind picked up. Better get home before it really starts snowing. I was only about a half hour from my car. The flakes were coming down faster and faster as I moved down the trail back to the parking lot. Soon I could barely see ten feet in front of me.
I left the trail and headed in a straight line down the sloping hill. I zoomed along until it got too dense, dark and snowy to keep going safely at that pace. Oh, God, I croaked. It’s going to be a whiteout.
Gusts of wind pelted my face with snow. I pulled my coat tightly around me and tied my scarf around my head. I groped behind me trying to find the trail, but all I saw around me was snow, snow and more snow. Now I didn’t know which end was up.
I got down on one knee. Lord, please help me not to panic.
I stood up, picked a direction and made my way back toward the parking lot. I could only hope it was the right way. Time seemed to pass slower as I got more and more worried. How do you know you’re even going in the right direction? I asked myself. What if you’re going the wrong way? My glorious afternoon had turned into a real nightmare. I toppled into a snowbank. “Help me, God,” I cried. “Don’t let me die here!”
I pushed myself back onto my feet. It was hard to even stand against the violent gusts. I pushed on. “Give me strength, God,” I said. It was pitch black outside. My body was failing. I wanted to sleep, but that would be deadly. I fell into another snowbank. This time, I didn’t have the strength to pull myself up. I struggled helplessly against the dense snow. “Please, God,” I begged. “This is as far as I can go.”
Suddenly, I heard a crunching sound in the distance. I pulled myself up as far as I could. “Hello!” I called. “Hello! Can you hear me?”
Out of the darkness skied a young man. “Ski over to that tree and make a left,” he said, helping me up. “There’s a small ranger’s shed. You can warm up inside.”
I looked to where he was pointing and saw the little shack. He gripped my arm. “When the storm lets up, follow that trail behind the house back to the parking lot! Go! Now!”
With that, he skied off down the mountain. I pushed my way to the shed and let myself in. I sat down and warmed up by the heating vent. I checked myself for frostbite. Everything seemed okay. I closed my eyes and waited. It was almost midnight by the time the snow slowed to a gentle flurry.
Sure enough, the path was where the young man had told me. I skied past the spot where I’d collapsed and found the imprint in the snow where I’d almost met my end. I could see my tracks still in the snow, too, heading over the ranger’s shed. But when I looked down the path in the direction the young man had gone, I couldn’t see any ski tracks at all. Just a fresh fallen snow. “But how…?” I wondered. I had no answer.
I followed the trail and found my car. I started the engine, turned the heat on high and took off my gear. I laid my head on the steering wheel, still in shock over my miraculous rescue. I knew that if that young man hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t be sitting here feeling the heat from the car. Only you could have done this, I prayed to God. Thank you.
To this day, whenever I see a blizzard anywhere I’m reminded to lift my eyes and whisper, “Thank you.” I still love leaving it all behind to go skiing. But the one thing I never leave behind is God. And I know he never leaves me either. Not even in the worst of snowstorms.
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