This week my family took a “snow day.” It wasn’t because the weather was bad, and we couldn’t get out the driveway. My niece was visiting from Indiana over her college spring break. So what does every midwesterner do when they visit Colorado in the winter? They go skiing, of course.

So we packed up the SUV, our rented skis, a cooler for lunch, and off we went. After two and half hours of scenic driving along the Arkansas River, we arrive at the destination. Who knew that the hardest part of the entire day would wind up being the process of getting the ski boots off and on. After a short fight with the footwear in the parking lot, we finally embarked on the bunny hill.

I’ve skied several times. My two girls (14 & 17) went once two years ago. My niece was a rookie, and her boyfriend had one experience on the slopes. All in all, the bunny hill was the place to start.

After a couple of runs and a bit of coaching, I abandoned everyone to their practice routines while I checked out the mountain. I had never been to this particular mountain so I was unfamiliar with the scene. I decided it would be a good idea to take a couple of runs down the mountain to get a feel for how difficult it would be for the rest of the family to give it a shot. After making myself familiar with what was ahead, it was time to see if everyone else was ready to brave the adventure. I wasn’t sure how it would go over — particularly for my oldest daughter.

I can remember the days and nights with her little heart filled with fear. I remember laying in bed with her at night praying scripture over her. “Repeat after me … ‘God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and a sound mind.’ Now say this, ‘Perfect love casts out all fear.’” I remember coaxing her to get on the bus while she was in tears fearful to take on the day. I remember the evenings leaving her with the babysitter at the front door in tears because she was afraid we wouldn’t come back.

Honestly, I think the fear that she felt during those times, I felt too. Would she ever be able to handle all of this “stuff” that life hands out? Would we get through this? Was there hope? As she got older, we got better at managing the fear, but it was still there … like a nagging cough that would never really go away.

I remember the moments before her talent shows when she was nearly in tears because she was scared. I remember the audition for the local symphony talent show where I thought we would have to turn around and go home. Yet there was this innate desire to press through and sing and play anyway. Looking back on all of that now, I don’t think music was a talent given for her like it was for the others. It was a God-given gift to drive her and force her to face the fears that were there from birth.

You see, as an adopted child abandoned at a day old, fear was resident in her being. A friend once told us that she wasn’t really abandoned at birth; she was abandoned in the womb. Because of that, fear of being left alone textured so many events of life for her particularly in those early days. Honestly, I’m sure it still does.

So you see, when we got off the chair lift at the top of the hill to find that my once fear-filled daughter was the first to head down that hill, it wasn’t just an ordinary day. She didn’t have the look of fear in her eyes as she pushed off with those two poles in her hands. She didn’t look back as she often did in her seventeen years of life for me to reassure her that it would be ok. She didn’t even look back. No … she said “let’s go” and off she went.

Sometimes we all get caught up in the moments that bring us fear and paralyze us. But when those times subside, we forget. We forget the fear that we once fought to overcome. We forget how we fought hard with the help of Jesus for freedom. And then it comes. And sometimes we don’t even recognize the freedom. As a dad … a pastor … a Christ follower … I never want to be so focused on freedom that I forget the fight. I don’t want to forget what the fight produces. And once the freedom comes, I want to celebrate the fight that defeated the fear … and be free.

By the way, we’re already planning our next ski trip.