Rubber pellets

Some of the most seemingly insignificant things can actually turn out to be quite important.

On football fields with artificial turf, you may notice these small, black things that pop into the air when you run and end up all over your shoes by the time you leave the field. Since I've started coaching track, I've noticed a rather lofty increase in the amount of these pieces of rubber on my carpet at home, especially because there used to be none. I definitely find myself vacuuming more (or at least thinking about doing so, anyway).

Bottom line: I've really only regarded these things as annoying and superfluous additions to the track area, and I really can't stand it when they get inside of my shoes—which is quite often, of course.

But, as it turns out, these rubber pellets are actually quite essential. They are made from recycled tires, and the added bounciness/flexibility they provide contribute to less injuries for the athletes who play on these fields. One study confirmed such findings.

So, basically something I thought was simply a complete nuisance is actually a valuable commodity to society. Go figure.

My track girls collected these.

I think we often get caught up in confusing the rubber pellets in our lives for unimportant things that just get in the way. Far too often, we miss just how valuable certain things can be. Instead of realizing their positive contributions to our lives, we are blinded by how frustrated they make us.

And it's usually the little things—rain drops can be pestering and can dampen (obvious pun intended) our plans, but they are so necessary to various aspects of this world (plus, every once in a while, I think it's good when they do soil what we have scheduled, because this time allows for us to slow down and maybe curl up on the couch with a blanket); I once tried to remove my freckles with lemon juice, but over time I came to accept that they just define who I am—they may not serve some overly special purpose, but some of them can be pretty neat; sand is so aggravating (especially when you go to the beach, and it seems like ALL of it came back home in your beach bag with you), but it is essential in the ocean setting—plus, it feels fabulous between your toes and helps you appreciate a bit more the time you have in such a marvelous setting; glitter and confetti can be so obnoxious when they end up all over the place for what seems like the next few years after using them, but they sure do make things pretty; things like salt, sugar, flour, and pepper can make complete messes in your kitchen, but they are rather useful ingredients in a lot of the things we eat on a daily basis.

I could go on, but I won't. I think you get the picture.

One problem I think we face is that we treat other people like rubber pellets. Instead of embracing the value they bring to this world, we have a tendency to focus on the negative things about them—whether it's looks, the way they treat us or don't treat us, or the way they conduct themselves. The truth of the matter, though, is that regardless of how pestering some people seem in our lives, they really do matter. They are children of God, and they are here for reasons—just like we are here for some greater purpose. So, instead of seeing the things we don't like about the rubber pellets, we need to let our hearts be opened up to see the true value they have.

I'm going to make it a personal goal not to cringe when I see those pellets crowd up my bags and shoes and invade my clean carpet. And I want to take time to see the beauty in the pellet people in my life, as well.

After all, God placed these rubber pellets on the earth, and the only thing left to do is appreciate the wonder in all He has made.

The hills

I both love and loathe hills at the same time.

Hills can be so daunting, especially when you're running.

Yesterday, I ran a race set in a super hilly course. Now, I've run this course before, and I anticipated the hills that were in store for me, but there seemed to be more than I remember, and they felt harder than I thought they would.

The feeling you get when you reach the top of a hill is beautiful—I did it! I conquered that one! But the thoughts that can go through your head while you are trying to tackle that hill can be discouraging: I want to walk. I hate this hill. I really want to walk up this one.

There were definitely points in the race when I was going up hills and let my mind play around with the thought of walking, but I knew how disappointed I would be in myself if I actually did so. Hills aren't meant to be walked up—they are made to be attacked and defeated.

This hill was not my BFF.

While some of those hills definitely slowed down my pace, there were also some that I wanted to end so badly that they made me speed up. There was one particular hill that I had completely let slip my mind, and so I was a bit frustrated when I saw it awaiting me, because I knew of the enormous challenge that was ahead. But then I saw my friend Nina at the bottom of the hill, and I got an extra boost of inspiration. She had come all the way out there to cheer in the cold rain, and I surely wasn't going to let her support go to waste by bonking on that hill.

There are so many hills we are going to face in life, and we can't let them get us down or slow us down. They are simply challenges that we have to face and overcome. And when some of those obstacles appear as if they are too much for us to take, I believe God places people like Nina in our lives to help give us those extra bursts that we need to get to the top.

He did that for me again at the end of the race. The course finishes on a levee, but you must scale one last hill before you get on it. My legs were so tired at this point, and I knew I didn't have much left in me, but I would have to give everything that was left in the tank. Then I heard what I had waited all race to hear: my mom's voice. You see, my parents are at every single race. My dad always takes care of me, and I honestly don't know how I would stay calm and function before the race if he weren't there. He's my "race guru," as he calls it. My mom, however, is the loudest person there, which is not how she would normally be described. But, when she cheers at my races, she's usually the only person I hear. So when I heard her voice right before that hill leading up to the levee, I forgot about my pain and attacked that hill with whatever I had left, because I knew my family was waiting for me at the finish line, and I didn't want to keep the Merrill crew waiting too long.

I might not love every hill of races or of life, but I am so thankful that God is there to push me up each one, and I feel blessed when he sends His own to help me get to the top of each. The encouragement from others in our lives truly helps and is truly of Him.

My legs are beyond sore today, and I know that some hills in life will also leave me with some form of after effects, but they are absolutely worth it.

Jesus had one last hill left in life and suffered through it and endured it because of His love for us. The difference is that what was waiting for Him at the top was death—death on a cross for us. If my Savior can defeat a brutal hill in order to be crucified for the sins of the world—sins that I commit every single day—then I surely can battle through these hills that are really like ant mounds in comparison to what he faced.

Hills are going to appear throughout our lives, so go own them.

My two right feet

It's not easy to face the fact that flawless will never be used to describe me.

Lately, I've felt like I've been messing up so much—and I have. I have made so many careless mistakes that have either left me in binds or in pain of some sort.

And—what's even worse—these things not only make me look like a complete fool, but they make me feel like one, as well.

Let's start with a couple of examples from last week. When I drove to school on Tuesday morning, I reached into my bag to get my keys. The pocket where they always are was empty. Shast. I went on to search every pocket in my bag (and there are quite a lot), and they never turned up. I had a feeling I knew exactly where they were, and that location was useless to me in this moment.

Now, it wouldn't be completely awful if I weren't the first person to arrive at the school every day. I open both the school building and the field house, and I like getting there early enough to make sure I get a few things done before track practice. So, what did I get to do on this particular morning? I got to wait in my car and play Moxie on my phone until the softball coach showed up. Thankfully she gets there a little before our practice starts, but it still wasn't enough time for me to accomplish everything I really needed to do.

And that was definitely my own fault.

When I borrowed her keys to go unlock the school and the classroom where I teach, my keys were just where I thought: sitting on the desk. Blast.

On Thursday of last week, I caused myself more physical pain than necessary. You see, I woke up a little later than usual that morning (not sure how I managed that one), but I still was able to get my run in and shower. However, I was super pressed for time and packed my bag almost completely in the dark and in a frenzy. I was excited about wearing my favorite pair of brown boots, though, and I shoved them in my bag along with the rest of my outfit for the day.

The definition of uncomfortable

After track, I had to rush yet again, because we had a faculty meeting, and I had less than 10 minutes to change and scurry over to the main building. As I pulled one of my boots out of the bag, a thought crossed my mind: Wait, I didn't pack these boots. Then I pulled out the other boot, which actually belonged to the correct pair I planned on wearing. Now, this wouldn't have been so horrible if they hadn't both been right-footed boots.

Are you kidding me?!

You might be wondering why didn't I just wear the shoes I wore to track. Well, they were cold and sopping wet from the field outside, because there had been so much dew. So, I wore the two right boots. I was even four minutes late to the faculty meeting, because it took me so long to hobble across the parking lot, writhing with every step I took.

Then came the mockery.

Some of my coworkers already make fun of me (in the nice way, of course) enough already without me going and making some screwball mistake like this. Needless to say, they really had some fun with this one.

I won't describe the blister that ensued from this ridiculous incident.

Again, this was all the fault of me.

Overall, I would have to say that last week was just rough, in general. I did so many more things in error—leaving my contacts in when I went to sleep one night, forgetting to write a recommendation letter for a student (thankfully it’s not due until next week, and I did it early this week), leaving the cap off of my gas tank and not noticing until in my rearview mirror I saw it dangling from the side of my car (while I was on the freeway, of course), typing an entire paper for grad class on the wrong subject because I had looked at the incorrect week, and getting a huge rip in my shirt and scratch on my stomach because I thought I could squeeze through a barbed-wire fence without getting nicked up (I’ve done this before, so I figured I could again—negative).

Again, all of these things were my own doing, and there is no one else to blame. I really hate it when that’s the case.

At the end of the week, however, I reflected on all of the things that I “ruined” in the prior days, and they didn’t seem as bad as they did at the time they happened. In fact, most of them actually seemed pretty meaningless. Sure, I was super frustrated for short periods of time, but somehow things always managed to work out OK. I mean, the fact that I survived the most uncomfortable shoe situation and didn’t ruin my already sensitive hip area shows that one small mistake doesn’t always make a person’s world come crashing down in utter disaster.

It just goes to show how God’s grace is always at work. Do mistakes sometimes end in worse cases? Absolutely. But, even when they do, He is always there to offer His forgiveness. It’s not like locking myself out of the school means I am the worst teacher/coach in the world and won’t keep my job much longer; wearing the wrong shoes doesn’t mean I’m cursed forever; cutting myself on a fence doesn’t mean I’m a complete klutz (though this is actually debatable) who is prone to self-destruction; and completing the wrong assignment isn’t the worst thing, either—at least I’m prepared for when it’s actually due, right?

The point is, we are all flawed. Even the most seemingly perfect people (not me) are going to mess up. Just when we think things are going so great for us, something bad could happen. Mistakes can plague us at any point in time.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

We can’t be perfect. The only perfect One is the Savior who opens His arms when we experience those imperfections, and He reminds us that He gave everything for us, and He will always be there to offer His mercy and grace when we need it most.

Accept that you are going to mess up. Accept His love—it’s completely worth all of the mistakes you will ever make in your life to know that pure and holy love will shadow over everything you’ve ever done wrong.

Getting a boost

Every so often, we all need little boosts of encouragement.

And sometimes they seriously come from the most random things.

For me, today it was my sparkly high heels. You see, it's been a rough few days, and I've been weighed down with so much stress and anxiety, and I feel like more just keeps piling on an already overloaded plate. I honestly feel like I'm sinking in quicksand. Well, when I spotted these shoes at Target recently, I knew they were a must. I bought them without even giving it a second thought. After the past few days I've had, there was no question that I needed to let them grace my feet today.

Fabulous.

There's a picture my sister always sends me when I truly need it most. It's a picture of a precious dog with foofed-up hair, and it says: "B**** I AM FABULOUS." I don't even like cuss words, but I love this picture. The first time she ever sent it to me was perfect timing, and she periodically sends it to me as a reminder, especially when she knows I'm down or in a frenzy. After I called her on the verge of tears during my lunch today, she sent it again. She is the one who is truly fabulous.

So, I really had three boosters today: my glammed-up footwear, my pic to give me a smile, and my brief chat with my sister, who was nothing but wonderful as she offered me Godly encouragement. Even though none of those made my troubles completely disappear, they all certainly made things seem a bit more bearable.

What's so fascinating about it all is that, as I was thinking about how I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders at times (yes, I realize it may be a slight hyperbole), I was also reminded that God has the WHOLE WORLD in His hands—and that's absolutely no exaggeration. It's just straight fact. So, my seemingly huge issues are really so insignificant in grand comparison to what He's got going on. But the best part? He still actually cares for what's going on in my life. The grain of sand I am actually matters to the great beach He maintains.

I know stress and anxiety are factors in life, and I don't anticipate them vanishing from my life for eternity anytime soon. But I do know that I can take comfort in His love and mercy with each breath and each step I take.

How can you see this and not smile?

And when I need it, I know my sister, glitter, and fluffy dogs will be there to help me cope.

I hope you dance

I often wonder why people don't dance more often.

But not organized dance—I hate that.

Dancing is so great, especially when you don't really think about what you are doing. Instead, you just let the music let you move. You forget about what people think, what problems you have in this world, and anything that will remotely bring any inkling of stress back into your thoughts.

And you dance.

I don't consider myself a good dancer by any means, but I do find pleasure in shaking my thang on the dance floor. 

This morning I was thinking about how people often make "bucket lists" or simply set goals of things they hope to achieve before they die. They might include things such as: go bungie jumping or skydiving, join in on a march or parade, travel the world, own a boat, attend the Olympic games, get married and start a family, go on a cruise, ride a roller coaster, pet a dangerous animal, climb a mountain, meet a celebrity—I'm sure I could go on with loads of other things I've heard people mention they want to do before they leave this place.

To be honest, though, I don't really have a "bucket list" of my own. I'm sure at some point in my life I've mentioned a thing or to I want to do "when I grow up," but I have decided I don't really want to have one of those lists. While I think it's important to set goals, I am going to keep them in a bit of a closer time frame. After all, I have no idea how long I have down here, and I would rather live in the time I have now.

With this in mind, that means life might be slightly riskier than usual. Apprehensive about a race because it's out-of-town and will take me out of my comfort zone? Sign up for it. Think my voice is too horrid to sing loudly at church? Belt it for Jesus. Too nervous to talk to the fella who captures my heart? Strike up a conversation. Feeling blue because I don't feel pretty? Wear my purple heels. Unsure about tasting something new? Give my taste buds something they don't expect. See some sprinklers on a hot, summer day? Run to them as fast as I can without thinking twice. Want to go outside but think it might be too cold? Put on a jacket, and brace myself for the chill factor. Want to let the world know that I love Jesus? Show kindness and love every single chance I get.

Get on that dance floor.

No one knows how long we'll be here, and we only get one shot at life. That's why I think it's so important to dance every time you get the opportunity. Who cares if you look like a fool? Who cares what people around you think? To Someone, that dancing is beautiful. To Someone, that dancing is better than the most pristine performance of Swan Lake anyone has ever seen. To Someone, that dancing is the dance of a lifetime.

I can't believe I'm going to quote Gaga on this one, but I think sometimes the solution you might be trying to find in life is simple: "Just Dance."