As a kid, my family went on a lot of skiing trips.  At some point during the multiple years of going up on the mountain, I remember being at the peak of Mammoth Mountain looking down at the daunting hill before me.  My heart beat faster as my mouth seemed to suddenly be devoid of moisture.  How was I going to get down?  My dad skied up behind me and said, "Don't just stand there, go!  Don't freak yourself out."  

And suddenly, as if making a decision to "do or die", I pursed my lips, nodded, and pushed off.  I would start taking one turn at a time, getting into a rythmn.  I'd silently say to myself, "One turn at a time, left, right, left, right..."  As I forced the turns, adrenaline pushed my legs farther than I thought I could push.  My hands started to plan my poles at the right time, and I started to pick up speed.  My confidence securely mine again, I began to smile.  The wind rushed to my face, and I could feel the icy cold bite at my cheeks.  It was so refreshing, so exhilarating, I was forced to laugh out as if challenging the mountain.  

As I approached the bottom of the run, I would always stop to catch my breath.  As I did, I would look back at what I had just come down, and see a white wall of snow.  Seemingly impossible by just looking, it became an obstacle that was easily defeated "one turn at a time."  Had I stood at the top and told myself that I couldn't, I would have talked myself out of it.  If I thought it as a whole mountain, I would have talked myself out of it.  But, when broken into smaller pieces, when I just gritted my teeth, when I started laughing, the mountain became something small, something I could conquer, something I could understand.

The last few days, I have been "looking back" at my mountain, and reflecting on how great my last year was.  I learned so much from being in LA.  I found my love for people, and ministry all in one fell swoop.  I saw God work in ways I never would have understood before.  And through it all, even though I might have fallen once or twice, I got down the mountain.  My white wall that seemed impossible at the time now is conquered, and I get to go back up and try again.  This time with more confidence and skill.  Does that mean I won't fall?  No.  Does it mean I won't be scared?  No.  But, I will find my rythmn, I will laugh, and I will finish.

When facing challenges, what do you stop at?  Are you freaking yourself out?  Maybe today is a day to grit your teeth, purse your lips, and go.  You might fall, true.  But when all is said and done, you'd have conquered your mountain.  The only true failure is not trying.