Years ago, I had an experience that I affectionately refer to as “the parable of the roller skates”. When I was six years old, I got my first pair of roller skates for Christmas. My family was living in Utah at the time and there was about three feet of snow on the ground so I resigned myself to “trying them out” inside. They were fairly rudimentary in comparison to the high tech roller blades that kids dash around on today; nothing more than a royal blue pair of Converse sneakers bolted to a metal base with bright red rubber wheels. I can remember lacing them up, and enthusiastically scrambling around the linoleum floor in the kitchen as I struggled to “get the hang of it”. Weeks passed, the snow melted to welcome spring, and the kitchen floor became increasingly small as my ambition for bigger and better territory advanced with my skill level. It was decided, I had graduated to the street out front with the conviction to explore my capabilities on the open road. The day had come; I woke that morning to the high pitched shrill of the wind as it whistled through the cracks of the windowsill. Mom and dad were getting ready for work and I could hear my father on his way out the door, giving Shaun and Corey specific instructions not to go outside. From the sound of his voice, I could tell he meant business. He reported wind gusts of up to one hundred miles per hour and said that severe weather warnings had been issued. Disappointed at first, I tossed my skates to the side and resigned myself to another day of kitchen confinement. I peered out the window, and a bush caught my eye as it effortlessly bounded down the street (roots in tact). Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to mind. What was I thinking? This was the perfect day to skate. All the compo-nents were present for an ideal skating experience; wind, open road, and wheels! I could just lace up, kick back, and (much like the bush before me) effortlessly make my way down the street. Bound and determined by this “once in a lifetime” opportunity, I snatched up my skates and made my way to the living room. I was diligently threading the loops when I noticed another set of feet toe to toe with mine. My eyes reluctantly climbed their way to the look of disapproval on my mother’s face. After questioning my sanity, she informed me in no uncertain terms that I would not be allowed to skate outside and attempted to explain the potential repercussions. Dad had already gone and when mom had finished her “lecture”, she left for work. Shortly thereafter, the phone rang and Shaun answered it. Apparently the neighbor’s shed had blown over and was making its way down the street. A friend had called to share the exciting news and like most obedient boys do, they set out to estimate the dam-ages. Well, I’m no fool... when the wind of opportunity blows, I’m going skating, which is exactly what I did. I quickly laced up, made my way to the front door, turned the handle, and gave it a little push. The wind caught the door and it flew open, nearly coming off the hinges as it slammed against the frame of the house. I struggled to force it closed (which was no easy task on roller skates) and somehow wound up in a disheveled little pile of pigtails on the ground in front of the house. It was apparent that I would not be able to skate to the middle of the road. Oh no, the wind was much too powerful for that... I was going to have to crawl my way there. I struggled against the wind on my hands and knees, dragging my heavy skate-laden feet behind me. Finally, I had reached the center of the street, and with the runway before me, I fought to my feet. With arms outstretched and legs spread, I created as much body surface area as possible for the wind to “work with”. In the beginning everything went perfectly according to plan. I felt the force of the wind against my back and began to roll without any effort on my part. A satisfactory little smile attacked my face and I giggled as I picked up speed. “I am brilliant”, I thought. Faster and faster, I rolled, until my smile dissipated with horror and panic when I realized that I was still gaining momentum and moving much too fast to attempt a “crash landing”. I was flying by houses, left and right, and could hardly make out the faces of my neighbors as they clung to their windows in wide-eyed disbelief.

The Parable of the Roller Skates…

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The Parable of the Roller Skates (Contd.) What was I going to do? I knew that if I didn’t “take the fall”, I’d continue to pick up speed and eventually crash anyway. I quickly made the determination that if you’re going to be stupid; you’ve got to be tough so with some assistance from a pesky pebble or two, I dove into the pavement. I skidded a few feet on my knees, then my stomach, and the velocity of the landing seemed to carry my feet up over my head in a terrific gymnastic-style somersault. The wind continued to blow and with it, I continued to roll down the street. I struggled to turn around and with my face to the wind, once again, fought to my feet and attempted to skate back to the house. The blinding force of the storm made it difficult to see but I managed to force my eyes open long enough to notice something quite peculiar. The houses that lined the street were passing the wrong way in front of me... NOT good... Despite my valiant effort, I was rolling backward and gain-ing speed. Suddenly, I made explosive contact with the pavement in a tumble that would have won the gold in the Olympics for idiots. What was I going to do now? I kicked off my skates and, clawing at the round ahead of me, I attempted to crawl home. The storm was much too powerful and I felt like a rag-doll in a clothes dryer as I repeatedly tumbled backward in the wind. I had never been so homesick in such a short period of time. I could see the house, it was so close but it felt absolutely unattainable. I was in pain. My heart sank. I sobbed as I struggled to fight my way home. I was alone, hurting, and the storm raging against me was merciless. I was about to abandon hope when an elderly neighbor in a house nearby invited me in to wait out the storm. She called my mother, who rushed home to nurse my wounds. As I look at my knees today, multiple scars remind me of a time in my life when a valuable lesson was learned. I can’t help but draw an analogy between that physical experience and many of the spiritual experiences in my life… There are times when all of us encounter overwhelming “storms” as we struggle to move through mortality. It isn’t long before we collapse and discover that our individual capa-bilities aren’t enough to return to the peace, comfort, and familiarity of “home”. There are times when our effort to find refuge remains unattainable as the influence of adversity mercilessly rages against us. It is at these times of great turmoil and distress that we become acquainted with God. These are the moments that demand faith. These are the humbling experiences that provide opportunities for growth. During our weakest hour.. He lends His strength, calms the storm, heals our pain, and "carries us home". Sometimes it's difficult to have faith... to "give thanks in all things". We administer to heartache and pain every day by providing compas-sionate care to those facing overwhelming hardships in life… individuals whose lives are changed in an instant because of a tragic accident or unforeseeable medical diagnosis. No one is exempt from the “storms” of life. At one point or another each of us will struggle to find the strength to overcome adversity.

I have often wondered if life will ever get easy? I have come to realize that it probably will not... I have, however, come to understand that we can be strengthened by faith. Each one of us has been blessed with experiences that have left behind a spiritual scar or two. The challenge is to learn to cherish each “scar” for what it represents. Each “scar”, once understood, will refine our understanding and culti-vate our spirit, thereby becoming a source of humility and strength.

When the storms of life rage against us and the situation seems hopeless, remember what experience is all about. No one is ever alone. There will always be “ONE” who will kneel at our side, wipe the tears from our eyes, and bandage our wounds...

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, either sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 21:4). “He healeth the broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds” (Psalms 147:3).

“Opposition is the privileged price we must pay

to become acquainted with God”

~Author Unknown

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