Out of Control

 

I was about 14, spending a weekend in the snow at Big Bear, in the mountains surrounding Los Angeles. I was with the church youth group, and we went tobogganing.

The hillside was steep, ending in a slight ski jump above a gravel lay-by on the roadside. Giant conifers were scattered across its slope. I’d never before been on a toboggan.

My friend Carol had spent a few years on the east coast and knew how to steer a toboggan with her body, leaning one way and then the other, so she suggested riding down with me. I got on first. She accidentally let go.

I took off at speed. Careering downwards, I could have just fallen off to stop myself. Instead, I closed my eyes.

Somehow, I missed the various trees. I didn’t wipe out any other kids on sleds. I made it to the bottom, where I flew upwards before landing with a conclusive thump on the gravelled lay-by. No cars were there and none were coming along the road.

God placed a guardian angel with me on that perilous journey decades ago. He held back any vehicles. I landed unscathed, exhilarated by the thrilling ride. Oblivious to many of the dangers I passed along the way.

Today, global news bulletins, environmental degradations, local events and relationship strife can make life feel out of control, like a crazy toboggan run. I still don’t know how to steer the toboggan. I don’t know what to do in many cases, or how to make a positive difference. But I do know who can make a difference. I do know who rides with me, who is in control, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

I’m not sure if I was actively praying on that crazy toboggan run, but I sure am now. Sometimes my eyes are open; sometimes they are firmly shut. I am putting all my trust in the only one who can keep me safe, who can calm the storms and make all things new. To Jesus be all the praise and worship, all the glory and thanks. He’s still got the whole world in his hands, even if I have to just close my eyes and go with it.