Gliding Solo

I take my church responsibility to assist in running the programme for the 12 to 18 year old girls very seriously. Usually that requires fairly pleasant and safe things like preparing lessons and making beautiful laminated handouts complete with sweets (always a hit!). Though it is sometimes a challenge to be creative and interesting at those times anyway, sometimes my sense of duty runs a little bit farther and puts me outside of my comfort zone. Tonight was one of those times.

I can't ice-skate. In fact: I have a complete lack of coordination. This is no exaggeration in order to exert humour from the situation; it is an established fact amongst those that know me. Though I enjoy having a go at some sports (badminton, basketball, netball... you know, the safe ones) I lack skill in these areas.

When I was five years old I was sent to ballet by a wise mother. Unfortunately, even at that young age I was already well aware of my destiny to be decidedly lacking in any kind of grace. I gave up. My mother gave up. I believe I was about 6 years old. My path was already decided.

We took the youth from our area to an ice-skating rink with another set of young people. I could have opted out of skating all together but I determined to go and have fun and join in. I suppose I was subjecting myself to the idea of peer pressure. All my friends were doing it... and so was I!

Was I totally uncomfortable and fearing for my life the whole time? YES. 

Did I smile the whole time and encourage everyone (by example) to shout "Go Harriet!" when I managed to skate 5m without touching the side? YES. (And yes, I do mean that I was shouting words of encouragement to myself- sometimes I am the only supporter I have and beggars cannot be choosers.) 

I genuinely had a great time. I am still not a good skater but I enjoyed watching the young people grow in confidence on the ice and they were good enough to occasionally help me shuffle across a particularly foreboding 'gap' (no hand rail). There was one young woman who repeatedly ended up on her derrière yet with merely a few words of encouragement her look of shock would fade and a big smile would return as people helped her to her feet and set her back off making her slow way around the rink. I was proud of her. Even when she hurt her hand she took a few minutes out and then was straight back on (smile intact) for another go. I was inspired by her. I hope that I am as quick to rise every time I fall.

After quite a while of gripping on to the side for dear life I did manage to get around the outside rink. I was by the rail the whole time but I only grabbed it when I needed to. Admittedly, that was around every 50m but for me that was positive. I was pushing with both feet at times and felt that I could stand up a little taller.

Last time I went ice-skating I was gripping on to a hand for dear life. I was so scared. This time I knew I didn't have the luxury of a hand to hold every second so I had to be a little more independent. I still had the barrier, that was always there, but the thing I felt I'd needed wasn't there. Because of that, I had to find my own feet a little more and I felt that I improved as a consequence. If I was ever to go skating again even with someone who had a hand to hold I would be a little more confident.

The hand to hold is like the people around us. They are great and they do lend us support through life. Yet, that hand may change and there might not always be a hand there. BUT we always have our Saviour- our handrail through life. He is constantly there to catch us. We know where He is and we must move to Him for safety. Even the best skaters sometimes get a little wobbly.

I love the way Heavenly Father teaches me and inspires me through my responsibilities and through daily life. Life is a wonderful and I want to be like the young woman who got up no matter how many times she fell. :)