Follow the bear

Sometimes the answers we need are so simple.

Back in the late '90s, there was a movie that came out called Alaska. For some reason or another, the siblings and I decided to rent it from Blockbuster (and, yes, it was on the righteous VHS). While it was meant to be a heartwarming tale of a brother and sister bonding as they fight to find their father, whose plane has crashed somewhere in Alaska, the three of us couldn't help but make fun of it at times.

I mean, it was uber-cheesy. There was one line in particular that was in a rather dramatic moment, but it left us laughing and quoting this continuously. The sister is tired and sits down in the snowy mountain they are climbing, and her brother takes her by the shoulders, looks her in the eyes and says, "We must never give up. We must follow the bear!"

Oh, I left out such an important part of the movie: the siblings have a polar bear that they rescued from being poached guiding them the entire time. It's completely realistic.

"We must never give up. We must follow the bear."

Flash forward to yesterday, when I was reminded of this scene during church. The pastor was talking about being perseverant in Christ, and he said the words "never give up." I couldn't help but turn to my sister and say, "We must never give up. We must follow the bear!" And, even though I was making fun of a movie we once mocked, I suddenly realized just how powerful that concept actually is.

You see, these two kids are doing everything they can—chasing bears, scaling mountains, battling the cold Alaskan climate and elements—all to be with their father. The church message was speaking of doing everything we can to pursue our Father, because he wants to be with us. I started thinking about how we often find ourselves on the cold, metaphorical mountains of life. But are we always doing it because we are trying to fight for our Father, or are we chasing after something else of this world that will eventually lead to nothing? I guess the truth is that we have to make sure we are following the right bear—the one who will actually lead us to Christ and not to a tangible and temporary idol.

I know it sounds cheesy, but the young man in the movie had it right—"We must never give up. We must follow the bear." Because, if you think about it, that "bear" can actually be the cross that Jesus had to bear for us as He took on the sins of the world. That is the ultimate bear that will lead us to our Father, no matter how many mountains we have to scale or rough patches we have to face in life to get there. Unlike the dad in Alaska, our Father will truly be with us every single step of the way as we continue after Him. That "bear" is salvation in its finest.

And that is certainly one bear we should all follow.

Finding victory in defeat

I really don't like to lose.

So it's sometimes hard to face reality when I come in second place.

Recently, I had a knee injury that kept me from running for almost two months. I spent most of my time pool running, on the alter-g, mastering the elliptical, biking, and rollerblading at warp speed (at least that's what I call it just for kicks). I've only been back running for two weeks, so I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to race yesterday.

Because it was a bad idea.

It was just a 5K, but I'm definitely not back to where I need to be. "Racing shape" is not a phrase I would use to describe me right now. My time was a lot slower than I would prefer, and it was a hard pill to swallow to get second place when the winning time was closer to what I should have run, anyway. I'm fully aware that I am not going to win every race I run, but it's also frustrating to lose to a high schooler—even if she does have four state championship titles (a few track and one cross country) to her name.

Just run.

But, I think what was even worse was the attitude I had about coming in second. Toward the end of the race, when I knew there was no way I was going to catch her, I allowed this phrase to play through my mind: "If you're not first, you're last." (I haven't even seen Talladega Nights. I think the actual quote uses the word "ain't," but I don't acknowledge that word much.) As soon as I thought it, I tried to push it out of my head, because it's rather discouraging.

It wasn't until I was running my cool down that I realized how thankful I should be. I had just raced a 5K with absolutely zero pain in my knee. I am running again, and that is beautiful. No, I didn't run the race I wanted, but there were multiple lessons I can take from the entire experience to help me improve for the next one. Plus, I had just gotten to spend an entire morning with my dear parents and incredible friend Kebbers. I even got to see one of my favorite coaches from high school. I thought about how I should be praising the Lord for all with which He's blessed me rather than feeling like a failure for coming in second.

Besides, regardless of how that race turned out, I knew I wasn't a failure in God's eyes. He has blessed me with the passion and ability to run, and I need to do all I can to glorify Him with those things. I don't think He cares when I cross that finish line, as long as I cross it with everything I have for Him.

While winning sure is fun, it's definitely not everything in life. Those times where we don't perform as well as we'd hoped can turn out to be great learning experiences that help us build up to do better the next time we toe the line. Run to win, but be prepared for defeat, because losing a competition is not true defeat. Real defeat comes when we don't have the One in our lives who has the ultimate victory.

And being a winner in Christ is so much better than any victory we could ever get from any type of road race.

My mom is Superwoman

I have the best mom in the world.

And I am not biased in this. It is simply fact.

I honestly don't think my mom has a mean bone in her body. In the 27 years I've known her, I've seen her selflessly serve others on a daily basis, and never once have I heard her complain about it. I know there were so many times growing up when I was a selfish and demanding little child who didn't always say thanks for the amazing things my mom did. I didn't even always realize just how gracious her actions were.

But I do now.

My mom always puts others before her, and I will never forget one instance where she literally took all of the weight on her shoulders for me. I was in either late elementary or early middle school, and our family went on a ski vacation one winter. I hadn't gone skiing in a while, and I actually hate it. (I found out my senior year of high school that I really enjoy snowboarding, but I genuinely hate skiing.) But, the rest of the family was skiing, and I wasn't really given another option. The Merrills don't like to play around with wimpy stuff, so Skipper decided the first run of the day—my first attempt down a mountain in years—should be the most difficult one the resort had to offer. Bad idea, Pops.

She always finds joy in rain.

He, my brother, and my sister all zoomed down the slopes and were out of my view in no time. My poor mother, who is actually just as good of a skier as my dad, waited for me as I fell almost every eight seconds or so. Did I mention I hate skiing? I was getting beyond frustrated, and my dear, sweet mom just kept on encouraging me. Honestly, if I were her, I would have wanted to yell at me and then ski down the mountain while I wallowed in my own self pity. But, she's a much better person than I am.

After too many wipeouts, I ripped off my skis and said I was finished. I started walking down the mountain, quite clumsily, however, because the skis were awkwardly bigger than I was, and they were far too heavy. I wanted to sit down and cry like a toddler. I think I came pretty close. Rather than get angry with me for being such a child, my mom took the skis from me and skied down the rest of the mountain carrying my skis for me. In that moment, I realized I was the daughter of Superwoman.

You know what's even more amazing about this? She never held this over my head. Not once did she bring it up later so that she could get some sort of accolade or make me feel any guilt. Instead, she just did it, and that was that. (Trust me, I heard about it enough from the rest of the family, though.)

To me, my mom is a living example of what Jesus wants us to be. She is the epitome of what it means to be humble, she never speaks badly of others, and she constantly shows love to everyone around her. You cannot meet this woman and not have a smile come across your face. Seriously, it's not possible. Life hasn't always been easy for her, but she shows more strength and perseverance than anyone I've ever known, and I can't express how proud I am of what she has achieved and what she continues to accomplish and strive to accomplish. She helped inspire me to pursue my master's degree, because she got hers while working full-time and having a family. Oh, and she did this all right around the age of 50. She is amazing.

Even though I am 27, I love the fact that my mom still calls me every single day, even when it really feels like there is no purpose to her call. She always ends her calls with: "Love you, bye." Never fails. The word "love" is always there, because that's the biggest part of her.

My mom loves as Christ taught us to love, and I couldn't ask for a better person to call mom—or Superwoman.

Catching bugs

I now have the power to catch any bug that crawls.

I was recently at the grocery store—where a lot of pivotal, life-changing moments seem to happen to me—when my klutziness got the best of me. I was reaching for something on the top shelf and somehow managed to knock down a jar of maraschino cherries. Those glass jars are not very durable when falling from lofty spots, so it shattered, and that sticky red juice and a bunch of cherries littered all over aisle 7 floor before I could even blink twice.

Oops.

I was frantically trying to find something to clean it up, and I definitely had nothing to be able to tackle such a mess. I had already had a pretty rough day, and this was just the cherry (or cherries, rather) on top. It really just wasn't a good moment in my life, and I guess it showed.

Small yet so powerful

A little boy was with his mom on this aisle and walked up to me as I was trying to pick up all of the syrup-coated cherries from the ground. He handed me what I thought looked like a cheap toy and said, "Here, I think you need this. It made me happy when I got it, and it might even help you pick those up."

What he gave me, his mom told me, was a bug catcher that he had gotten in his kids' meal at Sonic. She said he thought it was the coolest thing, and we both agreed that it was sweet of him to offer it to me. I tried to give it back to him so he could keep it and enjoy it, but he wouldn't let me.

It amazes me how the minds of little kids work. They are so innocent, and they think and act directly from the heart. They don't have to overanalyze things, and they often don't even think twice before they act. It brought a smile to my heart to have this little boy give me a toy that he thought was so amazing—even if it is a device used to capture gross creatures.

What would the world be like if we were all so selfless? I started thinking about it, and I can't say that I am always so willing to give up items that I hold dear. Heck, sometimes I am even hesitant to give the important intangibles (like the always needed time) to others. But Jesus didn't just give up something small for us—he gave up his entire life. Whether my new friend in the grocery store knew it or not, he was being like Jesus to a stranger on aisle 7 that day.

That bug catcher really did work that day, because I actually caught a bug: the love bug. (Cheesy? Of course.) It's so important to spread love to others, and this incident was just one more reminder of that. It didn't matter anymore that I had exhibited my lack of grace for an entire grocery store of people to see; what mattered was that someone showed me kindness in a flawed moment, and I felt the warmth of love envelope me.

We can learn a lot from children, especially when it comes to loving with no boundaries and giving freely.

Oh, and catching bugs.