How to Fall Fast

When I lived in Cincinnati, I learned how to snow ski. Well, kind of. Those who love snow skiing would not call skiing in the Midwest actual skiing, but more like sliding down a hill on top of a sheet of ice. I am definitely not a great snow skier, not the guy who is boldly slashing through the most difficult double black diamond courses.

When skiing, or sliding down ice-packed hills, I fell often. Thankfully, I was never seriously hurt because if I felt I was losing control, I would tap out and fall. A friend taught me that. He told me to fall whenever I sensed I was losing control, not to fight it and ski more chaotically and more quickly, but just to own it and fall.

“Fall fast,” he said.

The whole Christian life is to be one of falling fast—one of repentance.¹

When you sense your heart wandering, fall fast.

If you fall fast you will hurt less, and you will hurt fewer people. Own your sin and repent before it spins recklessly out of control. On the slopes, those who fall fast don’t hurt nearly as much as those who continue and build up more speed and ski recklessly out of control before falling. Out of control skiers not only hurt themselves, but they can also take out others with them. Those who fall fast limit their pain and the collateral damage that spreads to others.

When skiers fall fast, it is much easier to get up, much easier to continue without being hauled off the course in a stretcher and unable to ski for months. If you fall fast you can get up more easily.

During the events surrounding David’s fall, he refused to fall fast. Instead he continued in a quick and relentless downward spiral. As he went to bed that tragic night he could have repented of his pride, his belief that he was owed whatever he wanted because of his accomplishments as king. He could have repented, confessed his weakness, and thanked God for all His blessings. But he kept going. He did not fall fast.

As he walked on the roof in boredom, David could have recognized his unholy restlessness. He could have remembered times in his life when God filled him with joy. He could have asked the Lord to restore joy to him but, in his pride, he kept looking to himself.

David kept strolling until he saw a beautiful woman bathing. As he looked, he could have turned away and confessed his lust and his pride, but he refused to fall fast.

When David learned from a servant that she was married, he could and should have stopped and fallen right there. He could have owned his sin, confessed his foolishness for even asking about her, gone back to his room and begged God to turn his heart back to Him. But David did not stop; he kept spinning out of control.

When Bathsheba walked into his palace, he could have stopped. He could have seen her as a beautiful bride who was committed to someone else, to a man who was fighting for him on a battlefield somewhere. But David continued in his sin.

After he slept with Bathsheba and learned she was pregnant, he could have stopped. He could have owned his sin, called her husband home, and sought forgiveness from the Lord and those he harmed. But David, in his prideful stubbornness, held tightly to his sin and the belief that he could fix all his own problems.

While we will continually struggle with pride, we can choose a better response. We can repent over and over again. When we allow pride to build and multiply, the implosion is much more painful and much more destructive. So repent quickly. Repent daily. Fall fast.

(Excerpted with permission from How to Ruin Your Life: And Starting Over When You Do by Eric Geiger. Copyright 2018, B&H Publishing Group.)