Recklessness often carries its own reward, commonly referred to as punishment. And, of course, we all agree that it also besmacks of a certain level of stupidity, sometimes, in clinical circles, defined as insanity. Well, however we wish to talk about it, there is one who is able to overlook the frailties of us (referred to as sheep, among those who head up the higher realms). You will recognize his name. It is God. God steps in and undoes the rewards of our inspired dumbness. That’s what he did for Rod Canner.

RESCUE ON THE NIGHT SLOPE
by Rod Canner

After cautiously beginning my ascent down the mountain, I decided to speed up some. I was discovering why people like skiing! The faster, the funner. But, I quickly found there was no way I could stop or turn and still stay upright. I was soaring past other skiers like they were standing still. It began to dawn on me that I would eventually need to stop. One thing I had learned on the bunny slope, if you fall, you will eventually stop. But at this speed, that didn’t give me a whole lot of comfort.

I spotted a snow embankment off to the side of the trail near the trees, in the general direction I was going.

I can use that to help me stop, I thought. I didn’t make it that far before losing the little control I had in what an observer might describe as “spectacular.” My skis came off, my poles went flying, and I crashed and got twisted all over the place flipping and flopping down the mountainside. I finally slid to a stop, face-down in the snow with intense pain from a severely damaged ankle. I was unable to get up. This wasn’t the way my introduction to skiing was supposed to go. How could anything that was so beautiful and fun bring such pain?

Being raised near a California beach, I was quite unaccustomed to this gorgeous new and exciting environment of night skiing. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the snow covered mountain slopes that were set aglow by powerful flood lights. This was Idaho at it's best! I had been in a few snow storms before, but to be on a brightly lit up snow covered ski slope with new friends, was really exhilarating. Even the fact that I could hardly stay in an upright position, on the slippery snow, didn't seem to matter. We were having a great time.

As that evening progressed, I found more and more boldness, learning to glide on the snow one way and then another. Turning was quite an adventure. Stopping was impossible without falling down. I was learning this new and delightful sport on a small section of one of the smaller hills, where a rope tow pulled us beginners about eighty yards uphill to a place, where you could gather your wits before heading back down the gentle slope.

After about an hour on the beginners’ slope, Vance, who was my employer, and also becoming one of my best friends, glided over to me from one of the big slopes, and ask me to join him higher up on the mountain.

Vance and I were scooped up by the chair lift, and carried high over the other skiers, to the top of the mountain. Getting off was an adventure all it's own. The chair lift never even stopped. Vance took off down the mountain like a whirlwind and made his death defying stunts look easy. I, on the other hand, began to slowly make my way down the mountain on an angle, while getting the hang of staying on my feet. I have always been confident, nervy, and oblivious to any serious consequences: a jump-in-the-pool-and-learn-to-swim' kind of guy. These characteristics had been getting me into trouble for years. Now I lay wounded in the snow, unable to get up. I was a throw-me-off-the-mountain-and-see-if-I ski-guy, in a forest of trouble.

After a few minutes, a big strapping young man about six foot four inches tall and quite muscular, also wiped out right in front of me. He looked up and said, "Can I help you?" I thought to myself, this guy's got to be kidding. He can't even ski himself, and he wants to help me!

"No, I'll be alright," I lied

He got up from his fall, and I tired to do the same. I couldn't do it. My ankle was severely damaged and I was in tremendous pain. I needed this young man's help.
It turned out this big strong gentleman was a part of the ski patrol whose job was to monitor the safety of us knot heads who knew nothing about skiing. He suggested that instead of him going for help, that he would piggy back me down the mountain himself. I really didn't know what to say. I knew I couldn't get down on my own, so I said, "OK. Let's give it a try." I didn't really have a choice. I had to get off the mountain.

I gingerly climbed onto his back, and he felt as strong as an ox. This guy literally skied the rest of the way down the mountain with me hanging on, while my arms and legs were wrapped around his neck and waste. This perfect stranger who moments before had crash landed at my feet, was saving my life. It was incredible. It brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, "People who need people are the luckiest people in the world."

When I reached the bottom of the hill, this ski patrolman took me to the first aid station to get some medical help. There I was splinted and bandaged from just below the knee down. My friends were quickly located, so they could take me home from all this fun I was having.

After a few weeks of resting at home, it became obvious that my ankle was not healing correctly. I had no insurance, so I never went to the doctor. I was a new Christian and I was in trouble! Would God really help me?

I hobbled into a church service one night a few weeks later during a rousing prayer and praise meeting. While I sat in the audience, Ron, another Christian I knew yelled from the front stage, "Someone out there has a bad foot. I think it is the left one."

I raised my hand and said, "No! It is the right one."

I was told to come forward, so I hobbled up to the stage where a chair was provided for me. I sat down and then several men laid their hands on me and prayed for God to heal me in the name of Jesus. Then, suddenly I began to feel my ankle parts being manipulated back into proper alignment. Within just a few seconds, every bone, tendon and everything else within that ankle was perfect. The color was even returned to normal and, praise God, the pain was gone, not even the slightest discomfort remained.

But, I have a question still, How come that unusually strong, expert skier crashed next to me, A guy who had the strength and skill to piggy-back a 170 pound fool down the mountain? I’ll bet he hadn’t had a fall in a month before he got to me. And how come God didn’t just let me lay there and learn a lesson about being impetuous? Did my guardian angel stick out his foot and trip him? I have no answer for that. But, I think God must be merciful and very kind. I still feel His love, even when I don’t get healed immediately. Perhaps I learned to be patient with others when I think they are being foolish. I hope so

For God has said, “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Against such ther is no law.” Gal 5:22 23(NIV)
Praise God! I was mir

culously healed, instantly! I didn't need insurance after all. Jesus was all the insurance I needed that day. That was the second time God had healed me miraculously, and it wasn't the last!

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