Big Hill

When I was perhaps 3 or 4 years old, my parents bought me a pair of little skis. Perhaps not more than 18 inches long, I would climb up on the snow banks the plows had created. These were probably no more than 8 feet high, but they were icy and after many sit down starts, I was able to manage.

But then one day I eyed the roof our porch and naturally my imagination thought how amazing that would be to travel down. So, one afternoon, I got the ladder out of my dad’s garage and moved it over to the porch. A few close calls as the ladder rocked, but I was able to get up on the roof. Though, it wasn’t a steep pitch, it was more than enough to provide the ride of a life time. As I sailed off into the air, I was excited. Moments later as the wind was knocked out of me and I hurt so bad I could not breathe or cry.

As life rolls on that which is “big” in our eyes becomes smaller with age, maturity and experience. With each step we make our “mountains” smaller, bringing home the idea that we must press on. Continue reading The Big Hill… →