All of us kids grew up loving to snowmobile. Our brothers still continue the adventure every year. The oldest is what people call a “Sunday driver” — he moves slowly along the paths, taking in the beauty of fresh snow on the trees and the earth. The youngest is a daredevil, leading groups of the most adventurous riders to the highest peaks in the U.S. and Canada. Scary, brave, or otherwise, the pictures he takes always look like he’s on top of the world: mountain peaks covered in deep snow, with a smile stretching ear to ear.
Now to the story. My oldest brother had company visiting, and they went out on a Sunday sledding trip (they don’t call it snowmobiling anymore — it’s “sledding”). His company wasn’t paying much attention to the trail, and as my brother followed behind, he suddenly saw him disappear over the edge of a cliff. All paths in those mountains have steep cliffs. My brother jumped off his sled and peered over — thankfully, a large tree had stopped his friend and the sled halfway down the slope. Determined, my brother stomped through snow up to his thighs, exhausting work, until he reached him.
He began digging and thinking through the scenarios he’d seen before. This wasn’t the first time someone had gone over a cliff. Usually, if they can free the sled, they drive it to the bottom and call a helicopter to haul it out — sometimes waiting until spring if the ravine is too deep. As he pondered what to do, suddenly a sledder came flying up the mountain like lightning, passed him in a flash, popped over the edge, disappeared, and then reappeared minutes later, descending slowly toward my brother. He stopped, flicked up his helmet shield, and said, “Hey bro, need some help?”
It was our youngest brother — the daredevil. Only he, and a few like him, could have climbed that cliff. My oldest brother grinned from ear to ear. We are big believers in God’s power, and in that moment, God was showing off His incredible strength and provision.
Together they dug out the sled. Then the youngest climbed back on and told the oldest to follow him down into the ravine. He explained that he had already packed the snow with his riding, so if they stayed on the same path, they could climb back out. With trepidation but total faith in his younger brother, the oldest followed. They descended steadily, then at the bottom lined up side by side, picked up speed, and pushed their sleds to the limit. Straight up the cliff they went — and with one final turn, they burst over the top.
For my oldest brother, it was the greatest adventure he ever wanted to experience. For our youngest brother, it was just another fun day of daring sledding. He gave a salute and rode off toward a higher peak, while my oldest brother and his friend returned to the cabin, grateful for the weekend — and for God’s hand in it all.
Reflection:
Life often feels like riding along mountain paths: breathtaking, but filled with hidden cliffs. Sometimes, like my brother’s friend, we aren’t paying attention and suddenly find ourselves slipping into danger or despair. The drop looks too steep, the snow too deep, and the way back seems impossible.
But just as my youngest brother appeared at the right moment, God often sends help when we least expect it. He shows His power not only in the rescue, but in the path He prepares for us to climb back out. What looked like the end becomes a testimony of His strength.
Maybe you’ve faced your own “cliffs” – moments where you felt stuck, overwhelmed, or buried in the weight of life. This story is a reminder that God is not absent in those places. He is present, packing the snow beneath your feet, preparing a way forward, and sending people who can guide you back to safety.
“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.” — Psalm 28:7
Takeaway:
Your peril is not the end of your story. With faith, and with God’s help, even the steepest cliffs can become paths of purpose.
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