Helping Others Blesses Us

By Marjorie Foerster Eddington

Recently, my husband and I were fortunate enough to be able to ski and board on one of the most amazing powder days in the Sierras. Powder was knee-deep, and in some places, even waist-deep. Because of this, it was common to see people stuck in powder, trying to dig, roll, wiggle, or prop themselves up to get out of the snow – usually by themselves.

At one point, we were trying to decide whether or not to wait in line for a particular lift to open so that we could get fresh tracks. The ski patrol had just gone up. After wavering back and forth, we decided to stick with the lift line where we were.

On our run down the hill, we came out of the trees to find a skier buried up to his waist in powder, looking for his ski. We both stopped to see if he was okay. Because of our positions, I was the only one who could help this man look for his ski. With my polls, I moved snow, and more snow, and still more snow.

I kept saying, "God, You know where the ski is. Please show it to me. We're here to help." But no matter how much snow I moved, the ski was not showing itself. I knew there was an answer, and I kept listening to God. Meanwhile, the man was finally able to get himself un-stuck. We weren't about to leave him until he was free. We looked for a good 10-15 minutes, but no ski. Several other people passed us without even a glance. He thanked us several times for stopping to help him.

At this point, we all agreed that it was best for us to go down the hill and find a ski patrol to help him so he wouldn't be stuck. The ski could be right there, or it could be ten feet down; there was simply no telling. As we were leaving, another group of people stopped to lend a hand. When we got to the bottom of the hill, I found people who could locate a ski patrol to help the man.

The other lift was open. As we rode up, we couldn't help but talk about what had just happened. We knew how to pray. We knew how to turn to God. We could offer that man definite and practical help. The words from the Bible flooded my thought, which we discussed: "For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known" (Luke 12:2 KJV).

We had an absolutely amazing run down in fresh powder. We hadn't lost anything by helping the man. As it was the end of our day, we had to get back on the previous lift to get to the bottom of the hill. As we rode up the lift, we looked for the man. He was gone. We didn't know if he had found his ski, but at least he had been helped.

It felt good to know that he was okay, good to be a part of that man's "rescue," so to speak. But that's not the end of the story.

The next day, my husband went to a deli/coffee shop to do some work. He met us at our friends' house for dinner. The minute we got home, he realized he didn't have his cell phone. We called our friends, who took a flashlight out to their driveway to look for the phone. They looked in their mudroom for a long time, moving boots and jackets. We looked in his car, in the garage, in our driveway -- no phone. The next morning, my husband drove back to the deli/coffee shop -- no phone. When he got home, we looked some more.

He had a great attitude. It was only a phone -- a thing. He could get a new one. Still, it didn't seem right that he wouldn't have his phone. We all kept praying. The same verse from the Bible flooded my thoughts. The phone couldn't be hidden or lost. God would reveal it to us.

The thought came to my husband to go back to the shop later in the day. He went up to the counter to speak to the same girl who had helped him the previous night. She had the phone. She had put it in a special place. God had "revealed" to my husband what he needed to do to find the phone.

We had been "prayed-up" from the day before. We were not upset by the time we lost looking for the ski or the phone. Rather, we were benefitted. We were given more reasons to be confident in God's ability to help us and to make a difference in all of our lives.