Tomorrow, November 20th 2015, is opening day at my favorite place to snowboard, Monarch Mountain.
AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is a big deal in my life. This is the biggest of deals in my life.
In seasons past, I would wake up at 4am and drive four and a half hours one way to get to Monarch.
Now, my front door is 20 minutes from Monarch’s parking lot.
The official plan between now and the end of the 15-16 slopes season is to #SnowboardMyBrainsOut.
But last season, the 14-15 season, was a different story….
A little background first.
Each one of us holds different identities that shape who we are, how we interact with the world around us, and how the world perceives us. Some identities come from roles in family relationships: mother, brother, sister, aunt, ect. Some identities come from professions or jobs: doctor, soldier, barista, Ghost Buster. And some identities come from our interest and hobbies: singer, surfer, Civil War re-enactor.
Identities capture how we dress, how we communicate, what we spend our money on, and a whole bunch of other characteristics that make us who we are. When we think of ourselves, and when we think of others, we use these identities as a frame of reference. If we think of someone as having the identity of a NFL football fan, we have general and broad expectations that they may wear a certain team’s jersey and talk about rushing yard statistics. If we think of ourselves as a dedicated dog owner, and see ourselves in that identity, we will spend time reading up on how to be the best caregiver for our beloved mutt.
When I think of myself, and when others think of who Calob Rundell is, there are probably three things that come immediately to mind: pastor, guy who is into SpongeBob Squarepants way too intensely, and snowboarder.
That last identity, snowboarder, is just as powerful identity as any. If influences what I wear, how I spend my money, what I see when I look at the sky, the words I use when I talk, and how I structure my time.
Dear Lord I love snowboarding. I literally have dreams about being on my board and cruising down the gnarly pow-pow.
This season, the 15-16 slopes season, is going to be my sixth winter on a board. In those six winters, I’ve acquired a pretty good collection of gear and stories. I can talk about boards, bindings, boots, brands, different types of snow, the unique characteristics of the Colorado mountains I’ve been to, and how much more spiritual snowboarding is over skiing.
But, and this is an important but, sometimes a thing gets too big. Sometimes an identity grows into an idol.
At the end of the 13-14 snowboarding season, I took a good long look at what this hobby/sport meant to me. How much money did I drop on it? How much time did I spend not only doing it, but driving a gazillion miles all over Colorado chasing it? How much was I away from the churches I served and the people I cared for? How much emotional energy did I pour into tracking snow reports and forecasts? How much capacity did I spend planning the next adventure in pursuit of a powder day?
The answer to all those questions: A LOT. TOO MUCH.
So, I decided to spend the 14-15 snowboarding season engaged in a spiritual practice that is not very common in my context and is certainly very un-American.
It was time to fast.
Fasting is intentionally cutting out or cutting back on something. The purpose of fasting is not negative. The point is not to lose or give up something, but to gain something new. Fasting creates space for new things to grow and into existence. Fasting is about freedom.
It was time to fast from snowboarding. It had gotten too big. It was becoming an idol. That identity was taking up so much room, it was squeezing out more important identities. So, for the sake of my soul, it had to be brought down a notch in my life.
Now, I didn’t go cold turkey. I did allow myself a small number of days on the slopes, but they were under strict limitations. But I cut everything about snowboarding in my life down by at least 80% for a whole year.
I wish I could tell you I did something spectacular with that money, time, energy, and emotion that was saved. I wish I could tell you that all of it was redirected to some worthy cause. But it wasn’t. I didn’t give more money away. I didn’t spend more time praying or serving or anything like that.
Thought I didn’t take advantage of the space the fast created, I learned something important. Snowboarding is an identity I can live without. And the deeper lesson is that I can live without any of the identities that define me. I may not always be a snowboarder. I may not always be a pastor. And, Lord help me if it happens, I may not always enjoy SpongeBob.
Things come and things go. Identities can change, grow, and fade with the seasons of life. And life goes on and the adventure continues.
The experience of fasting was worthwhile. It was strangely life-giving to drastically decrease the space that one thing was taking up.
And now, it’s time to #SnowboardMyBrainsOut
Righteous Shred 