By Susan May Warren
We sit poised on the top of a cliff, a near drop off before
us, that falls to a rushing river. In the middle, a bridge of snow and ice
hints at our destination. My husband guns the snowmobile engine. “Ready?”
us, that falls to a rushing river. In the middle, a bridge of snow and ice
hints at our destination. My husband guns the snowmobile engine. “Ready?”
Ready? For a face plant into a tree, maybe reconstructive
surgery? To feel my stomach ripped from my body as we plummet down the
mountain? Let’s do it!
surgery? To feel my stomach ripped from my body as we plummet down the
mountain? Let’s do it!
We live on five acres of woods in northern Minnesota that
butts up to a national forest. Hence, our backyard is about a hundred thousand
acres. Aside from harboring deer, lynx, fox, cougar and bear, it also makes
excellent snowmobile terrain. And not long ago, Mrs. Claus gave her Santa a
snowmobile for two.
butts up to a national forest. Hence, our backyard is about a hundred thousand
acres. Aside from harboring deer, lynx, fox, cougar and bear, it also makes
excellent snowmobile terrain. And not long ago, Mrs. Claus gave her Santa a
snowmobile for two.
I love snowmobiling. Flying over the snow, catching air over
drifts. I love to drive, to be at the helm of the beast as I weave around trees
and over hill and dale, my husband sitting behind me. I also love riding behind
my husband as he drives, feeling those powerful arms as he’s muscling the
snowmobile into the wilds. We follow unknown trails, driven by a Magellan
spirit, hoping that we have enough gas to get us back to civilization. I love
hanging on, simply trusting him, knowing that wherever he’s taking me, he’s
going first.
drifts. I love to drive, to be at the helm of the beast as I weave around trees
and over hill and dale, my husband sitting behind me. I also love riding behind
my husband as he drives, feeling those powerful arms as he’s muscling the
snowmobile into the wilds. We follow unknown trails, driven by a Magellan
spirit, hoping that we have enough gas to get us back to civilization. I love
hanging on, simply trusting him, knowing that wherever he’s taking me, he’s
going first.
But there are times, when I see where he’s taking me, and I
just have to bury my head in his back. Like straight down a cliff.
just have to bury my head in his back. Like straight down a cliff.
However, my heart cheers, despite the terror as we gun it
down the hill, over the river, up the opposite side. And, if we hadn’t let
ourselves go, we would have never discovered the beauty of a winter river, a
hidden jewel buried deep in the forest. Nor the exhilaration of facing the challenge
together.
down the hill, over the river, up the opposite side. And, if we hadn’t let
ourselves go, we would have never discovered the beauty of a winter river, a
hidden jewel buried deep in the forest. Nor the exhilaration of facing the challenge
together.
Further on, we find an enchanted forest of towering white
pine. Catch a view of Lake Superior, discover an old cabin in the woods.
pine. Catch a view of Lake Superior, discover an old cabin in the woods.
It occurs to me that snowmobiling is much like my spiritual
life. Occasionally, I drive, and it’s me setting our course, weaving through
the trees, getting us hopelessly lost. But when God takes the “wheel” and I
hang on, trusting Him for the speed and destination, I see the scenery. I trust
him to keep me safe. I trust him to bring me home, where there is an eternal
supply of hot chocolate.
life. Occasionally, I drive, and it’s me setting our course, weaving through
the trees, getting us hopelessly lost. But when God takes the “wheel” and I
hang on, trusting Him for the speed and destination, I see the scenery. I trust
him to keep me safe. I trust him to bring me home, where there is an eternal
supply of hot chocolate.
As Christmas season becomes more hectic, what if I let God
drive? Maybe everything doesn’t have to be perfect, and maybe I don’t
have to control every tradition, every holiday nuance. What if I just held on
for the ride?
drive? Maybe everything doesn’t have to be perfect, and maybe I don’t
have to control every tradition, every holiday nuance. What if I just held on
for the ride?
I’ll bet I’ll still get there, and I might even enjoy the
scenery along the way.
scenery along the way.
How have you let go, and “enjoyed” the
scenery of this hectic, exhilarating Christmas season?
scenery of this hectic, exhilarating Christmas season?
Merry Christmas!
***
Susan May Warren is the RITA award-winning author
of thirty novels with Tyndale, Barbour, Steeple Hill and Summerside Press.
A four-time Christy award finalist, a two-time RITA Finalist, she’s
also a multi-winner of the Inspirational Readers Choice award, and the ACFW
Carol Award. A seasoned women’s events speaker, she’s a popular
writing teacher at conferences around the nation and the author of the beginning
writer’s workbook: From the Inside-Out: discover, create and publish the novel
in you!. She is also the founder of www.MyBookTherapy.com,
a story-crafting service that helps authors discover their voice.
of thirty novels with Tyndale, Barbour, Steeple Hill and Summerside Press.
A four-time Christy award finalist, a two-time RITA Finalist, she’s
also a multi-winner of the Inspirational Readers Choice award, and the ACFW
Carol Award. A seasoned women’s events speaker, she’s a popular
writing teacher at conferences around the nation and the author of the beginning
writer’s workbook: From the Inside-Out: discover, create and publish the novel
in you!. She is also the founder of www.MyBookTherapy.com,
a story-crafting service that helps authors discover their voice.
Welcome to the 12 Pearls of Christmas!
Enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from some of today’s most beloved writer’s (Tricia Goyer, Suzanne Woods Fisher, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson, Sibella Giorello and more)! Please follow the series through Christmas day as each contributor shares heartfelt stories of how God has touched a life during this most wonderful time of the year.
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