Pour Yourself a glass of good wine part two

 I had to walk down several steep slopes!

 I am writing to you from Montana, where I've enjoyed time with family and friends for the past week. The fireplace is warm and cozy, and the snowcapped mountains are a sight to behold.

 As I mentioned in my blog a couple of weeks ago, I planned to ski during my visit to Big Sky country. Last week, my daughter and I did just that. It was a glorious sun-ripened day when we headed up the mountains to the Lost Trail ski area, which traverses both Montana and Idaho.

 Having marveled at the snow-clad scenery and parked our four-wheel-drive truck, Andrea and I made our way to the ticket sales counter, where I enjoyed the distinction of purchasing a "Golden Years" pass.  Henceforth you can refer to me as "Golden Boy," please. There are indeed a few advantages to advancing years, but this one proved an omen of things to come. Out of shape, older adults should not attempt snow skiing.

 After three long trips back to the truck to retrieve various clothing items and facemasks, we entered the ski rental shop. I was already winded from the long walks at 8,000-foot elevation. The runs, which looked so majestic from the road on the way up, now looked like plunges of death!  After carefully studying the skill chart, we decided that we were definitely of "level one" ability even though I have run ski slopes many times. It had been a long time since I swished down a snow-covered mountain, and I had no intention of attempting any steep runs or bumpy moguls. However, I forgot the immensity of Rocky Mountain ski slopes. Andrea and I looked up with fear and trepidation.

 We finally mounted our skis and headed towards the first lift at the base of a huge steep mountain. This slope certainly would not feel the cut of either of our skis, but where were the "moderate" and "beginner" runs?  It took about twenty minutes to cross-country glide several hundred yards to the closest "green" slope, which was over a mile long. By this time, I was sweating profusely and longing for the warm fire and hot chocolate in the lodge. But that wasn't happening, so we pushed off. If you can picture Sasquatch on skis, you are approaching an accurate portrayal of how I looked, arms and legs flailing, ski poles flying, and a cloud of snow in my wake.

 Easy and moderate slopes in the Rockies are like double diamond runs on Pennsylvania snow hills. When we ended the run, my legs trembled, and my heart was beating out of my chest.  Hot dog, this is fun!  Then we learned the bad news. We had skied to the bottom of a hill where the ski lift was not running.  We would now have to traverse two hundred yards cross-country to arrive at another ride. This lift would only take us to the very top of the mountain, which looked like it was at the entrance to heaven. I was pretty sure I could see Saint Peter at the gates just above the top of the mountain laughing at me. Please excuse our language, but this was an "Oh sh . .!" moment. On this beautiful March day, we would experience many of those moments. We ultimately decided to fondly remember this day as our "Oh sh . .!" experience.

 We prepared to mount the lift chair when Andrea did not quite make it on. The chair pushed her aside and to the ground.  I was not about to traverse the mountain without her, so I jumped off the lift into about six feet of snow. The operators were doing their best not to fall to the ground, laughing, along with several other skiers who were patiently waiting in line to board the lift. After about ten minutes, I managed to crawl back to the boarding area where we gracefully loaded onto the chair and enjoyed the glorious ride into heaven. Hell is probably a better term as we would now have to traverse the one-and-a-half-mile trek down steep slopes to get back to the lodge. I ended up walking and carrying my skis down several slopes, and when we finally arrived at home base about an hour later, I kissed the flat earth. 

 Challenging as it was, we high-fived, laughed a lot, and were grateful we both made it back alive without broken bones. Strangely, we were both satisfied that we had challenged this piece of the Rocky Mountains and created lasting memories. I wouldn't change a thing!

 However, I was acutely reminded that to ski well in the high mountains, it is beneficial to be younger than sixty-six, in good physical condition, acclimated to high altitude, and have a good sense of humor. This troubling day is a fond memory, but I would not attempt it again without first abiding by the guidelines mentioned above. I am pretty good with the sense of humor rule.

 A day at Lost Trail reminds me of some life-lessons. You will sometimes place yourself amid serious troubles.  It will be by your own doing that you are suffering. You skied down the wrong hill. At other times, afflictions will seek you out and find you. They will thrust themselves upon you and leave you reeling.

 Jesus, who overcame all the world's troubles and advised us that the most effective way to manage and overcome adversity is to abide in Him. Here are some suggestions about how to reside in Christ. But first, let's look at what dwelling in Christ is not.

 Dwelling in Jesus is not rule-keeping. The default mode for many followers of Jesus is to learn God's rules and work hard to obey them. At first glance, this makes sense. If I can always do what is right, then Jesus and I will get along well, and He will help me through whatever happens to me.

 Legalism is the technical term for religious rule-keeping and is the approach of many churches. Church leaders urge congregants to review the regulations and judge their lives based upon how faithfully they adhere. This leadership model is more manageable than one based upon the development of a dynamic relationship with Jesus. Shepherds assess church members' performance by their standards, or, they proclaim, God's standards. This approach to Christianity creates little Pharisees. Pharisees were religious leaders who approached God through strict adherence to God's laws and additional interpretations of them. To get close to God, one must labor diligently to follow all the rules. In this kind of church, sermons are often "spiritual spankings," admonishing in no uncertain terms believers to follow the laws. Preachers heap guilt on followers in good measure, and worshippers feel better that they didn't get away with their transgressions unnoticed. They received their punishment, so now they can go try harder to live the way they are supposed to live.

 The rule-keeping manner of trying to abide in Jesus leads to two outcomes.

 The work harder syndrome results in frustration, lots of frustration! It doesn't take most people long to figure out that they cannot obey all the rules. God's laws were designed to reveal our sinfulness. God deliberately developed a system whereby our shortcomings and rebellion would become evident. He wants His followers to understand their need for a path towards Him that does not depend upon their ability to perform. When we approach God in hard labor mode, even Bible reading can become a downer. The more we read and understand God's Word, the worse we feel about ourselves. What the Divine meant for enrichment, knowledge, wisdom, and encouragement becomes a hammer of judgment. The result is frustration.

 The "I can do this" syndrome. While some rule-keepers wallow in a mire of frustration and anxiety, other followers slowly come to believe that they can fully comply with all the rules or at least the ones that matter to them. This perspective makes people feel self-righteous rather than God-righteous. Self-righteousness means that I constantly work hard to get into and stay within God's good graces. Self-righteousness often leads to judgmentalism and religious arrogance.

 Jesus is not a lifeless list of rules. He is a Friend who guides us into whole, healthy lives. Because His Spirit, the Vine, dwells in us, we draw our ability to handle whatever life sends our way directly from Him. The outcome is a life of joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

 Here are some thoughts about what abiding in Jesus does entail.

 Abiding in Jesus is learning to trust Him. Our most enriching relationships are with those few friends whom we fully trust. Trust is a security blanket that protects and warms us in trying times. When one learns and implements Jesus' teachings and promises, the Vine provides strength.  We can trust our friend, Jesus.

 Abiding in Jesus is bathing in God's grace. Since each of us glides through life making the mistakes of a sixty-six-year-old, out-of-shape skier, we need help. We need One who will fill in the gap for us. Jesus accepts you just as you are, right where you are, and He showers you with all the strength and wisdom you need to traverse the Rocky Mountains of life. And, although He welcomes you just as you are, He loves you so much that He works with you to realize your potential.

 Abiding in Jesus is enjoying the freedom for forgiveness. Blessed is the person who is freely forgiven of all their shortcomings. Walking with Jesus allows one to find absolution from sin, which alleviates the weight of guilt that debilitates us. In Jesus, forgiveness is there for the asking and receiving.

 Abiding in Jesus is relating to the Teacher as your friend. One of the poignant scenes from Jesus' life is when He told his disciples that He would hitherto call them friends. When your Lord is also your closest friend, you've really got something!

 Abiding in Jesus is a daily walk of interaction with the Teacher. In Jesus, we know that we are never alone. We can carry on a silent conversation day and night, through good times and bad. We share our daily lives with Him as One walking right beside you.

 Abiding in Jesus is desiring to live a holy life that flows from a living relationship with Jesus.  Some unfortunate Christians work hard daily to get to the God whom they have already received. In Jesus, we do not work hard to do what is correct so that God will accept us. The Christian has already obtained a relationship with God. Jesus Spirit, who lives inside us, encourages, motivates, and empowers us to live the virtuous existence we desire.

 I've got bad news and good news.  The bad news is that life on this earth is troubling. We will all experience many Lost Trail ski mountains. The good news is that these difficulties drive us to Christ and that we are perfectly designed to thrive through problems and struggles. Ultimately Jesus turns our "terrible soil" into the beautiful wine of life.  So, sit back and pour yourself a glass of the excellent wine of the Master Vinedresser. Abide in Jesus.

 Live Inspired!