Those movie moments

Some movies have moments that you just can't forget.

They are those epic scenes that have lasting power, mainly because of their boldness.

Think Braveheart: "Freeedddddooooommmmmmmm!"; Gone with the Wind: "As God as my witness, I'll never go hungry again"; Star Wars: "Luke, I am your father"; Dirty Dancing: "Nobody puts Baby in a corner"; Almost Famous: singing "Tiny Dancer" on the bus.

Or, you might be like me and prefer the cheesier type of flicks.

Think When Harry Met Sally: Billy Crystal's entire speech that ends with, "I came here tonight, because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible"; 27 Dresses when Jane interrupts a wedding reception to say to Kevin: "I think there's a pretty good chance that I'm falling in love with you"; A Cinderella Story: "Because waiting for you is like waiting for rain in this drought—useless and disappointing"; Notting Hill: "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her"; How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days: "No I didn't, Ben, because you can't lose something you never had!"; The Cutting Edge: the end of the movie after Kate makes them do the really tricky ice skating move and then says, "I did it because I love you," to which Doug replies, "Just remember who said it first."

I may have reached a new low with one of my new favorite memorable movie scenes, but I really don't' care. It's just that awesome.

My sister made our family watch the movie Pitch Perfect on Christmas, and I thought it was going to be pretty ridiculous. Granted, it kind of is, but I actually ended up really liking it.

Especially one scene in particular.

At the very end of the film, during the final performance, Beca starts singing the song from The Breakfast Club that Jesse loves so much. She's obviously trying to win his love back after he had closed the door on her, and when she sings, "As you walk on by, will you call my name?" right before the "La, la la la," part, Jesse raises his hand in the air, and Beca raises hers as she belts her heart out, and the crowd goes crazy with cheers. It was really Jesse's silent way of saying he loves her and forgives her. The look on his face when he first realized she had incorporated this song into their medley was all you needed to see to know what was going through his mind and heart in that moment.

"I told you: the ending's the best part."

I think one reason I like this scene so much is because both Beca and Jesse let themselves be bold for the sake of love. There are lots of times in life where we have to step out and do things we fear: you might have to leave your job because you're being called to something else; you might have to sing out loud in front of other people; you might have to attempt to drive a standard on a public street; you might have to walk through a field on a dark night, not knowing just how many hoppers could possibly be lurking in the tall grass; or you might have to throw your hand into the air and let someone know you love him or her.

"As you walk on by, will you call my name?"

You'll never know unless you're willing to be a little bold.

Always lights

There's just something about Christmas lights that brings a smile to my face and lights up my heart.

One thing I think I love so much is how unique each house is. You have some who go all out (think Clark Griswold), and then you have others who just put up a few lights but still manage to bring joy to the front yard. Even some of my neighbors in an apartment complex put lights on their patios, and I think it looks fabulous.

It makes the loss of Daylight Saving Time feel less depressing.

I remember when I was a little kid, there was one house on a street near ours that was the main attraction every single year. The owner of the home was the man behind all of the MJ Designs and Michael's stores, and so his house always had not just lights but also decorative figurines out front that moved and brought joy to all of the kids and adults who visited. And, let me tell you, there were plenty of us. Cars and pedestrians lined the street every night during the holiday season just to pass by this house. It was marvelous and full of Christmastime charm.

It was unique, beautiful, and wonderful all at once.

I remember the first year this display disappeared from our city, and the owner moved from his home. I was so sad not to be able to go see it, because it was a tradition our family had come to love. One year my dad and I even went on a night run and stopped to take in the mystical scene in the crisp winter air. (I recall thinking that night that people were silly to try to say you are supposed to breathe in through your nose and out your mouth when you run. It felt impossible that evening, and I still don't think I can do it.) It's nights like those that stick with you forever.

There are many other houses out there that have Christmas lights each year that really lure people. I mean, just think about how many light lovers trek out to Highland Park to drive around or even take carriage rides to experience the thrill of the massive homes with superfluous decorations. Even surrounding trees in the neighborhood parks have lights that glisten on the ponds, and it all creates an aura of splendor and warmth, in spite of the cold temperatures that might be plaguing your fingers and nose.

Seeing the beauty in the Christmas lights just makes you forget about the unpleasant things in life.

I think people are a lot like Christmas lights in their own ways. We all have different stories, and we all have different ways of letting our lights shine. Some people are a bit shy, while others let their lights burn strongly into the night sky for as far as the eye can see. Some choose to have more sparkle and colors, while others choose a more consistent pattern. And some people don't let any light shine at all.

We were made to be unique. We were made to be beautiful. We were made to be wonderful. And we were made to be these things all at once. You shouldn't be afraid to let your light shine, and you shouldn't have to worry about how different your light is compared to someone else's. Because if you simply let your light shine you will inevitably draw people in just as they are attracted to Christmas lights.

But we don't have to wait until after Thanksgiving to be lit, nor do we have to dim anything after a certain day—we get to let our lights shine all year long, which is unique, beautiful, and wonderful all at once.

Crafting the heart

Sometimes my students impact me more than I ever could have imagined.

A few weeks ago, the members of my newspaper staff decided they wanted to take part in a service project of some sort during the holiday season and then write an editorial on how it impacted them. The editor-in-chief had the idea of hosting a crafts night at the Ronald McDonald House in Dallas, so I called to set everything up. My students seemed pretty excited, and I was proud of them for taking on this initiative.

Then the typical teenager attitude started to attack.

As the time got closer to the actual day of the event, my students didn't seem like they were putting much planning into the event. I reminded them each class about it, and it almost seemed like complete apathy had sunk in. When I went to tour the Ronald McDonald House a few days before our crafts night, I saw a few of the children who were patients in nearby hospitals. I immediately prayed my students would get more excited about spending time with these precious kids, because I knew how happy it would make the children's hearts.

And I knew how happy it would make my students' hearts.

When the Sunday of the event rolled around, even I have to admit that I wasn't completely thrilled about having to drive all the way out to Dallas that night. But, as soon as I arrived, I forgot all about how tired I was and how much I had to do in the upcoming week for work and life in general. When I walked into the crafting room, I couldn't help but let a huge smile dance across my face.

Because that's what happen when you see hearts in action.

Crafting with smiles

Only four of my students were able to make it, but they were already busy at work setting everything up and making their own crafts to show as examples to the kids. I didn't have to give them any instructions or prompting—they were working on their own, had brought all of their own supplies, and there was already a general glee in the air. They seemed really eager for the fun they were about to have with children who really needed to forget about reality for a little bit and just get to be kids at play.

We had about seven kids total make crafts with us that night, and I was so impressed with the way my girls put their entire hearts into this night. For a couple of hours, they forgot about homework, they forgot about makeup, they forgot about boys, they forgot about gossip, they forgot about Twitter and Facebook and Instagram, they forgot about every single stress they had in life, and they remembered what it was like to be kids again.

They remembered what it was like to love unconditionally.

It didn't matter that some of these children had deformities, handicaps or were facing life-altering illnesses. No one was there to judge, and no one was there to be judged. They were all simply there to make crafts—regardless of whether or not they realized they were also crafting their own hearts at the same time.

The children who made crafts with my students won't wake up and be cancer-free or escape the surgeries they might have to brave soon. But at least they got to forget about all of that for a little span of time on a December night in Dallas.

We are inevitably going to face pain and struggle in life, but love can overcome it all. Reading the reflections my girls wrote about their time at the Ronald McDonald House warmed my heart more than I can describe. They couldn't stop telling their classmates about their experience and all of the kids they were able to spend time with on Sunday, and they had such joy as they showed them some of the pictures they took with their new young friends. It's really refreshing to see light in a world that is full of far too much darkness.

In the midst of whatever storms rain upon us, love will always squeeze its way into our lives—and sometimes change our hearts forever.

Stamp my hand, stamp my heart

I think grocery stores are great places to have life-changing experiences.

There are just too many people you can possibly run into who say or do things that alter your world.

The other day I ventured into Tom Thumb thinking I would be leaving with a few more things for my pantry. What I didn't know is that I would also walk out with a heart full of hope and warmth.

When I was trying to navigate my way through some of the people in a crowded aisle, there was a little girl just standing in the way of everyone, not really caring that she was blocking the path where carts travel. Her mother was fussing at her, but she seemed to be intentionally ignoring her.

It was kind of funny, actually.

I was trying not to let the mother see the smirk on my face, so I looked down at the little girl and smiled. When I did, I noticed something in her hand, and she reached up to me with her ink-stained tiny fingers and said, "Want a stamp? It's a present." At first I thought she meant she was giving me a gift, so I figured I would appease her and let her stamp my hand. (Plus, she really didn't give me much time to respond—I'm pretty sure I would have gotten the stamp regardless of what I had said.)

Precious present

Before I knew it, there was a precious pinkish purple stamp on my hand, and, sure enough, it was a present.

It's not like I had a bad day or anything that day, but as soon as I got my new ink my heart felt full of joy.

I began thinking about how so many times in life we're blessed with presents we really weren't expecting. Sometimes people will surprise you with the way they act or the things they say. You might get a random text from a friend you haven't heard from in a really long time; you could be the 100th customer at Chick-fil-A and get free food; you may receive a compliment from a stranger on a day when you really need it; someone might give you a sticker just because; you could come home from a long day at work to find someone already made you dinner; you could get a kiss in a gazebo under a moonlit sky; you could check your mailbox and find a beautiful Christmas card from an unexpected sender instead of just the usual junk mail and bills; you might find $165 sitting on the ground at the gas station; or you could get a treasured stamp from a little girl who was in no rush to go down the chips aisle with her mom.

I used to think I hated surprises, but now I'm finding that I'm starting to like them more and more. Life is more fun when you don't know exactly what's going to happen. Some of the most precious moments in life come when people smile suddenly—it's beautiful; it's wonderful; it's enchanting.

"Want a stamp? It's a present."

Yes, it sure is.

What is pain? French bread.

Sometimes pain is worth it.

Even if it hangs around for a little while longer than you want.

On Thanksgiving, my family walked down to the park at the end of our street for a family football game. Skipper played all-time quarterback, so it was my sister and me against my mom and my brother. While Mare is not really an issue, P-Divvy and I usually end up having to double-team The Golden Child, otherwise he will just dominate the entire time. He's a lot taller than both of us, and he has a long history playing the game. Now, I was a pretty solid strong safety back in the day when we made pick-up games at cross country meets and practices, but I might admit that Chris can still manage to score a touchdown if I'm covering him.

It even gave me a little bit of pain to say that.

And I sure didn't walk away from the game without taking somewhat of a physical beating. It was third down, and we had just run a play my dad concocted that failed horribly. He told us to run the same play, except this time I was to fake what I did last time and instead run for the end zone, where he would hit me with a pass. We actually executed the play quite perfectly, and I jumped into the air, caught the ball, and then came tumbling down to the ground. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but I think some sort of flip or somersault was involved. Either way, I crashed to the ground and landed on my head.

Now I know understand why the helmet is such a crucial component in football.

My head was killing me, and I felt like I couldn't move. My dad asked me if I had a concussion, as if I'm really expert enough to know the answer to that. All I knew was that I hurt. The end.

My mom made us quit the game at that point (well, after my dad made a short pass to my sister to score while my brother and mom were paying attention to me). I was sad to find out that I had fallen just inches short of the end zone. Talk about a double bummer.

When we went back to my parents' house, my mom made me sit with a bag of ice on my head while I watched the Cowboys game. I had a headache for the rest of the day, and my neck was sore for about the next three days.

Curling iron affliction

Pain. Worth it? Absolutely.

Most recently, I burned myself with a curling iron. This isn't the first time it's happened, and it's likely not the last. My sister had burned my face the week before (on Thankgiving, actually—gosh, that was a rough day for me), and it's definitely not uncommon for girls to burn themselves when trying to better their appearances. But I think they would also argue that it's sometimes the price you have to pay when carelessness occurs in the prep process. I mean, good hair trumps a little bit of a burn infliction.

Pain. Worth it? Duh.

There are lots of other situations in life that bring about pain but also end in better things or were at least worth some level of hurt. You might break your hand playing basketball with a bunch of guys and be in a cast for some weeks, but it was worth it to play on their level and outscore some of them; you might run a half marathon with a broken hip and be out for a little while, but you PRed the race; you might get a huge gash on the side of your stomach, but at least you had fun on that Slip 'N Slide; you could get a brain or heart freeze from drinking your Slurpee too fast on a hot summer day, but at least you quenched your thirst; and you might have your heart shattered into pieces by someone you thought was different, but at least you learned what it means to love.

And then there was Jesus, who had a lot more pain than we will ever feel while he was up there on that cross, and look what happened because of that. I think he'd say it was worth it.

Pain hurts, but it usually only lasts for a little while. Sometimes it's worth it, and other times you will find that it's not. But it's all part of the experience of life, and it's pretty unavoidable. It often leaves us with scars or memories that remain with us forever and become part of our storybooks and make us exactly who we are.

Definitely worth it.

Making sense

I love going to the dentist.

And I'm not being sarcastic.

I had the privilege of visiting the dentist today, and I was cavity-free again. I was kind of surprised by this, because I've eaten a lot more Jolly Ranchers lately than normal. Score.

Besides the uncomfortable feeling of having someone cram hands that are bigger than your mouth into it, I often hear people complain about their dentists trying to carry on conversations with them while it is quite difficult to utter anything remotely understandable. But I had an epiphany about this that I think makes perfect sense.

Dentists can decipher almost anything people say.

And what they don't understand they just pretend to interpret accurately.

You won't always make sense.

My dentist's office has TVs over each chair so you can watch something joyful while all sorts of pieces of equipment and loud noises are being blasted inside your mouth. I always opt for ESPN, and my dentist is quite aware of my love for sports, so that's all he ever discusses with me.

This afternoon I was greeted with, "Hello, Miss Natalie! How 'bout our Cowboys?!" We went on to discuss this sob story briefly but then thankfully moved on to college football. We are both pretty pumped about the big SEC matchup this weekend between Alabama and Georgia, and the doc really hopes the Crimson Tide gets rolled. (Sorry, WD!!) And, of course, we had to talk about the Heisman race and Johnny Football.

Our conversation was obviously fabulous. I couldn't even make out all of the syllables that were coming from my mouth, but he comprehended perfectly. It felt wonderful to be understood in a world full of misinterpretations and misunderstandings. I think maybe that's why so many people like the show Cheers and love the song about going somewhere where everyone knows your name. Well, it's also nice to be somewhere where you can say something that seems like it makes no sense, but it's actually flawlessly deciphered.

It's great to have people here on earth who get us, and it's even more special that we have a God who truly values us, even when we don't seem to make much sense. There's no perfect prayer, and even if we offer up something to Him that doesn't always sound just right, it still makes sense to Him. And He never even has to pretend.

I hope your next visit to the dentist is full of lively conversation that may sound comical but is actually somewhat refreshing.

And don't ever be afraid of seeming silly to others—there are people in your life who really get you, and they are the ones who matter the most.

Not one direction

Some moments in life will leave you breathless.

And others will cause you to go the wrong direction at inappropriate times.

I remember when I was a little kid that it was always a fun challenge to try to run down the up escalator or up the down escalator. I mean, if you say you haven't tried this at least once in life, you're either lying, or you haven't lived. Adults look at you with annoyed expressions, but you don't really care, because it's your job to be immature.

It's a different story when you're 28 years old.

It's not always one way.

I was at the mall the other day, and I entered through a different department store than I normally do, and I was also a floor above my usual entrance, as well. I didn't realize this until I had already hopped on the escalator to take me to the next level, and the store I needed to go to was on the first floor. My initial instinct was just to turn around and quickly go back down instead of having to ride the escalator all the way up and then walk around to the descending side. I was in a bit of a hurry, and I just didn't have time for that.

Flashback to fifth grade mall trips.

I hustled down the steps, trying my best not to fall (I have a known history of klutziness on stairs), and I only had to dodge one person, who definitely shot me a disapproving look. I think it's because I accidentally hit her Michael Kors purse on my way. Oopsies.

When I got to the bottom, my sense of pride at such a ridiculous accomplishment was cut short by the Nordstrom employee standing by the escalator.

"This is not a playhouse, young lady."

Some people just don't appreciate a little excitement in the shoe department.

I decided to ignore that he called me "young lady," though I wasn't thrilled about it. I only had enough time to say, "Oops, sorry. I forgot." Then I had to continue on the journey. You'll never reach your destination if you sit there trying to make excuses for why you made a mistake.

Even though it's not quite proper etiquette to go the wrong way on the escalator, I'm OK with how things turned out in this situation. I would probably do it again if I had to. There are moments in life where you will make mistakes, and sometimes the more logical solution is simply to turn around and get on the right track rather than creating an extended path. You can't always abide by social norms or care what others think. You might accidentally bump into things along the way, and it's possible you'll even get reprimanded, but it's all part of the journey.

An escalator may go only one way, but that doesn't mean you can't go against the grain and conquer it.

Sweet whimsies

Little girls are often taught to dream big, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

At least they're letting hope prevail.

The other day, I was in a waiting room, and a little girl in there started showing me how pretty her shoes were. I agreed with her—after all, they were pink and sparkly. She told me they were her princess shoes. Obviously.

"Mommy says all girls are princesses and will someday meet their princes and live happily ever after," she reminded me.

I looked at her mom and then back at her, smiled and said, "Just make sure you hold out for a hero."

My name was called at that moment, so I had to get up and leave before she could question my advice. She didn't look much older than 6, but I hope it sticks with her.

My brief chat with Princess Sparkle Shoes made me think about the innocent belief a lot of us have about how things will turn out for us: meet that flawless guy, have the most beautiful wedding, live in the pristine home with precious children and have a carefree life.

It's dreaming without reality in mind.

The truth is, there is no perfect life. There are always going to be struggles, even if you do get married and appear to have the ideal family and lifestyle. But, at the same time, I don't think there is anything wrong with wishing for the daydream to come true.

People wish on flowers, birthday candles, and multiple other things in hopes that there's some sparkle of possibility that those dreams will come true. It's innocent, and it's beautiful.

Even if it doesn't happen exactly as expected.

My life definitely isn't what I thought it would be when I blew on all of those dandelions as a young girl. If it were, I would have been on a lot more carriage rides looking at Christmas lights, gazebos would hold real meaning, and I would always have the assurance of someone there to hold my hand. And it's OK that those things aren't reality right now. I might be cursed from that whole climbing the Century Tree thing, but I might not be. We'll see.

I think it's still acceptable to twirl around and wish on flowers. If you don't have hope, you don't have much. You'll hopefully find your prince at some point, even if he isn't as charming and wonderful as Eric was to Ariel. People can't be as perfect as we want them to be, but that's what actually makes them even more special than fictional characters.

But just make sure you hold out for a hero.

Pumpkin field truths

We can all learn a lot from the Peanuts gang.

I'm not a big Halloween fan, but I decided to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown today, because, well, why not?

Believe it or not, there are some great life lessons and truths in this short flick.

For starters, there's the poor and naive little heart of Charlie Brown. He's been tricked by Lucy too many times to count, and he just keeps falling for her antics every single time. She told him she wouldn't pull the football away right before he kicks it, and he bought it. She fed him nothing but a pie-crust promise, yet, like many of us often do, he will be fooled again, because there's a spark of hope in his precious heart that things will be different next time.

Sweet Baboos.

Then there is the adorable Sally who provides my favorite storyline by giving up her first chance to go trick-or-treating, because she let love get in the way. Rather than go fill her bag with free candy and go to Halloween parties with friends, she spends her entire evening standing in a field with Linus—her "Sweet Baboo"—waiting for something about which she really has no clue. She doesn't have faith in The Great Pumpkin, but she has faith in Linus and stands by him and defends him. When she tells him, "If you try to hold my hand, I'll slug you," we all know she is lying and really wants to hold hands with her Sweet Baboo. And, even though Sally gets frustrated with Linus, calls herself a fool and then yells at him, "You owe me restitution!" it's still obviously done in love. She's really just upset that Linus hasn't gotten to see The Great Pumpkin yet, that's all.

Finally, there is the wonderful Linus (my favorite character of them all), who reveals what it means to be a believer among non-believers. He's incredibly faithful to The Great Pumpkin and spends every Halloween night waiting in the field in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mystical figure. He waits and waits, not caring in the least what everyone says about him. People think he's crazy, but he stays dedicated to his task. That's a man grounded in his faith, and I love that even when he doesn't see The Great Pumpkin he gets upset with Charlie Brown at the end of the movie for doubting the pumpkin's existence and starts raving about how things will be different when it appears next year. Unashamed. Love it.

I think Charles M. Schultz had a pretty solid understanding of faith and love, and it's fascinating that he was able to reveal such truth through young children. Why, then, is it so hard for some adults to let these things into their lives?

I think two things are quite clear: don't ever let people tear down your faith, and don't ever give up on your Sweet Baboo.

Wrecking Gators

I had a brush with death this morning.

Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, but I'm not one to exaggerate. Ever.

Today was our district cross country meet, and a coach from one of the other schools and I were in charge of parking at the stadium and driving two of the Gators over to the park. I had to do it last year, too, so I wasn't too worried about it.

When we got to the park, we were asked to drive the course and fix all of the markers that had blown down overnight. The other coach hopped in my Gator, and off we were. It took kind of a long time, but it was also kind of fun. It's a hilly course, so the Gator got a little adventurous out there. We were almost finished with the entire course, and everything was going smoothly.

And then the backstretch happened.

There is a part of the course with about 600 meters left where the path gets really narrow between a fence and some trees. I had gone around the trees and outside of the path on one really thin part, but then it appeared I would fit through the next scape. The other coach agreed, so I stayed on the path. But, for some reason, my depth perception was a bit off this morning, and I was too far to the right. Suddenly I felt a huge impact, and the next thing I realized was that the Gator was stuck in the fence. I had crashed us. I felt a throbbing in two of my left fingers and turned to the coach in the passenger seat—the side that crashed into the fence.

I was still able to coach.

I was certain I had killed him.

I immediately turned to ask him if he was OK. Thankfully, he was fine. I looked down at my fingers, and they were already black and blue and starting to swell pretty badly. I really wanted to be a baby and cry, but my tear ducts don't work very often. I managed to back out of the fence I had just splintered but then had to pause for a second. I just sat there staring at my fingers, and the other coach asked me if I wanted him to drive the rest of the way. (I'm sure he didn't want me behind the wheel any longer.) I told him I could drive the rest of the way, and we made it back to the start/finish safely, while my fingers continued to grow in size and get darker.

Now, I'm not one to overreact to anything—EVER—but I was certain I was going to have to get my fingers amputated. My mind had already started planning how I was going to live the remainder of my life without my middle and ring fingers on my left hand. I immediately realized I would never be able to get married since I wouldn't have a ring finger.

Like I said, I never overreact.

I've never been in a car wreck, and I definitely never want to experience one. That Gator incident was certainly enough. It was a reminder that sometimes we're not as in control as we think, and what we thought was a good path to follow isn't exactly the wisest choice. Had I gone left, a certain wooden fence would be a bit prettier, I wouldn't have lost two fingers (actually, they didn't have to be removed), and I wouldn't have freaked out a poor coach who had never even ridden in a Gator before today. (Hey, life is all about experience, right?) At least I was able to back up and try again.

Good news: the second attempt was much more successful.

We all get to make decisions every day in life, and every once in a while we're going to crash and burn when we take the wrong paths. But, thankfully, sometimes we get second chances.

Thank God for grace.

Calling branch

Even the best maps can't always prepare you for where you are going.

It's always nice to have people in your life to help you walk through the rough patches. And it's even better when they can warn you about upcoming troubles. Thankfully, the people with whom I run each Sunday are those I would want with me on any sort of battlegrounds.

This past Sunday morning, it was rather foggy and still dark when we started the run, and we were in a new area to most of us. Josh had thoughtfully mapped out a course and even printed written (and laminated) directions, but there wasn't enough light out to see what any of it said. So, we were basically just trusting his words as we ran.

But, even though he had already run part of the course that morning before all of us, he didn't know every little surprise that was going to be out there waiting for us.

It won't always be clear.

It stormed on Saturday night, so there were a lot of branches and muddy puddles on various parts of the path. Because it was still so dark out, and much of the run was lined with trees, all of this was rather difficult to see. So, we didn't notice them until they were right at our feet. That's when we had to trust each other in calling out "Branch!," "Mud!," or "Puddle!" The only thing we really couldn't shout was the random animal that ran out at our feet (somehow I didn't even see it), and I think Kiran even kicked it. We still aren't certain if it was an armadillo or a possum. Disco kept referring to it as a rabbit. Regardless, it was living—at least at that point it was.

When it got a little easier to see, Josh even started picking up the random branches blocking the path as he was running so that the people behind him wouldn't even have to worry about tripping over them. Now that's a friend.

There were some points during the dark times where I was in front, and the person next to me and I really had to watch our steps. It sure was a lot easier when we had other people in front of us navigating our steps with admonitions and precedents.

Often it's good to lead in life, but there are also those moments when you need others there with you to help guide your footing. You never know when branches are going to get in your way, and you won't always have the perfect amount of light to reveal the dangers that lay in front of you. That's why it's nice to have those voices shouting out in protection mode.

Life isn't always going to have clear skies, and there are going to be storms we face. There will also be the ensuing effects of those times, where branches and puddles of mud will plague us as we run through winding and unfamiliar paths. But, what's so comforting is that God has given us those special angels with familiar voices who are there to encourage and help us along the way.

You aren't always going to know where you are or where you're going, and you certainly won't always have a clear path. But God is there to direct your steps, and sometimes He provides people to point us in the exact directions we need to go. In those moments, it's all about listening and obeying.

And even those foggy mornings won't keep you from smiling about the adventures ahead.

Free love but not free bagels

I don't care what economics might tell you—there are some things in life that are truly free.

When I was getting my blueberry bagel at Einstein's this morning, the woman behind me in line was getting pretty heated up about something, so I couldn't help but listen in on her ranting. She was complaining to the guy behind the counter that she wasn't charged for something. She kept going on and on about how upset she was that she received something for free. The nerve!

"I don't want this! I don't like getting things without paying for them! I can't accept things that are free!"

Now, I know I probably should have just stayed out of it completely, but I sometimes can't control the things that come out of my mouth. This was one of those awkward moments.

"What about love? That's free."

I'd take this freely.

She stopped her banter with the manager for a second to give me a look that I thought might actually pierce right through me. I think I even saw a little bit of fire spark.

"Excuse me?"

I just couldn't help myself.

"I mean, even J-Lo says her love don't cost a thing."

The look she was giving me started getting worse, so I just smiled and wished her a happy Monday. I can't say I was too shocked when she didn't offer me the same.

It isn't often that I hear people complaining about accepting things that don't cost them anything at all, so it got me thinking a little about how people actually do it more often than I imagined. My economics teacher in high school tried to tell me that "there's no such thing as a free lunch," and she emphasized how people actually always have to pay something whether they know it or not. Even though I didn't hit a home run on that AP test, I still argue that she's wrong.

Because she couldn't answer my Jesus question.

Jesus paid the debt for our sin, so we don't have to pay anything at all. Nothing, nada, zilch, zippo. I suppose that's the point I was hoping to get across this morning to the lady at the bagel shop, but I don't think my J-Lo reference struck the nail on the head on that one. I probably should have asked her to sit down and eat our bagels together so we could talk about it more, even though she didn't want to eat whatever was in her little bag that was mistakenly given to her. And I know she wasn't my biggest fan at the time, but it could have been fun.

Just like our soul sista Jennifer Lopez, the love of Jesus "don't cost a thing." And His love is the greatest we'll ever know.

But I think all true love is just the same: whether or not someone actually returns it, the love offered comes without cost for those receiving it. Screech freely gave his love to Lisa for years, even though she usually threw nothing but meanness back in his face; Pepé le pew continues to chase Penelope the kitty and offer his love unconditionally, despite her wanting to have nothing to do with him; and Forrest continually pursued Jenny and showed her countless acts of love, even after she broke his heart on multiple occasions.

I hope more people will let the truth set them free—even if they don't like things that don't come with costs.

Currahee cheers

Life is definitely not a cake walk.

There are moments we face that prove to be sometimes more than we ever thought we could handle. But it's in those moments that we can also develop and discover our true characters.

I got to see one of those instances in the lives of some of my runners this morning.

I coach both cross country and track, and they are definitely two extremes. My group of sprinters struggles with the offseason workouts, and today was no exception. There is a hill at our school (known as the Currahee Hill) that many students have come to fear. When you run this hill, you have to go around each tree—up and down, up and down, up and down…you get the picture. Well, let's just say that the tree line is quite extensive, so it's a daunting task for many of the athletes. My cross country runners have to do multiple Currahees on our hill workouts, but one is certainly enough for most of the sports.

The ultimate encouragers

So today in track I had my athletes run one Currahee, and it was a pretty big struggle for quite a few of them. I started to get frustrated when I saw some walking going on, but then something happened that truly warmed my heart. There was one girl in the back who was having a really, really hard time finishing this workout. I kept trying to encourage her, but I can only say so much—she's the one who actually has to do the work, and it looked like she was about to give up entirely.

Until something beautiful happened.

When she had about eight trees to go, one of the other girls who had already finished started running with her to offer extra encouragement. On the next tree, another joined. Then another. And another. By the time she made it to the last tree, a total of nine girls were running up that hill, and two of the girls had their hands on the back of the girl who was struggling so much, as they were literally pushing her to the top. What was even more refreshing was the fact that I hadn't told them to do this at all—it was all on their own accord that they stepped up to help their teammate, a girl some of them don't even know very well yet.

When she was finished, she gave me a hug and said, "Thank you. Thank you so much, Coach Merrill, for not giving up on me."

This journey is not easy, and there are going to be more times than we'd like when we find ourselves facing our own Currahee challenges. But it doesn't always have to be such a painful endeavor, especially when we have people there to cheer us on and help us to the finish. God places certain people in our lives at the exact moments when we need them to be our Currahee cheerleaders.

Life may not be a cakewalk, but it's definitely an adventure better lived with others right alongside you.

In the words of the great High School Musical, "We're all in this together."