People are precious

People make me smile.

And, like Buddy the Elf, smiling is my favorite.

I don't believe anyone on this earth is an accident, and we all have our own unique purposes and impact others in different ways. I've been trying to appreciate people more and not get frustrated with others when they do things to upset me. I've also been making efforts to be more thankful for the people who continue to bless me—whether they know it or not—because it's too easy to get caught up in your own little world and take for granted some of the people who matter the most to you.

And I really love when the exact people we need in our lives are sent to our worlds at the exact moments we need them the most.

It might be the barista at Starbucks who complemented you on your hair on a morning when you had rolled your eyes after looking in the mirror, because you felt like you were just having an ugly day.

It might be the Walmart employee who asked you if you needed help carrying your purchases to your car and then said, "Giirrrrlllllll, it's payin' off. Look at you bein' all Wonder Woman!" after you told her, "No, thanks. I lift weights twice a week."

Truth

It might be the cashier at your favorite restaurant who knows your order by heart and gets a styrofoam cup that's normally only for fountain drinks ready for you when he sees you walk in the door, because he knows you don't like the condensation that too easily forms on the other cups reserved for water only.

It might be a former student who sends you a note that says, "My journalism teacher just told me I'm the first student in all of his classes ever to make a 100 on his test, so now I have proof that you're the best teacher (:" during her first year of college on a day when you were questioning just how great of an impact you were actually having on your kiddos.

It might be the lady at Target who said, "Oh, heavens!" when you ran back inside asking if anyone had seen your phone that you lost. Then, when you realized it was in your pocket, all she could say was, "Oh, Lord, help her." (You don't even want to know what she said when you hustled quickly out of the store and slammed into the doors that weren't automatic, but you thought they were.)

It might be your best friends, who constantly keep you smiling with their ridiculous antics. They might make fun of you from time to time, but you know they would drop everything and do anything the second you need them to do something for you. (You know, like help you move into your new apartment and not let you do any of the work but then tell people that you did nothing to help.)

It might be your older brother, who unexpectedly gives you money to pay for your car inspection when you had jokingly (but kind of seriously) said that he should pay for it, because you had to fork over a ridiculous amount of money to get a new car battery that same morning.

Or it might be your baby sister, who comes into your room when you just want to be left alone and sits with you until you start to feel better and even start laughing with her. It's possible she gave you one of her signature kick-a$* pep talks in the process.

Life is full of people, and God puts them all right where He wants them when He wants them there. Some of them have tremendous impacts on our lives, while others are brief flashes of light to brighten our hearts for a bit; some of them boost our morales, while others bring us down or break our hearts; some of them make us smile and laugh, while others leave us with tear-stained cheeks; some of them show us genuine love, while others show us why the world needs more love; and some of them reveal what it means to be bold, while others remind us why we're often afraid to live with our hearts wide open.

And, the crazy thing is, we are just as often those very same people to every person we encounter on a daily basis. No meeting is by chance, and you are put into people's paths every day intentionally.

Bob Goff, author of Love Does, said, "God doesn't throw rocks at our windows hoping to get our attention; He sends us our friends." It's just one more way He shows us His love by working through other people, and it's truly remarkable that He can use such imperfect people to reveal His perfect love to others.

So maybe it's better just to let people let you smile—it might just become your favorite, too.

Beauty for ashes

It's amazing how much power love has to defeat the ugliness in the world.

Even when you think there's no possibility of beauty.

I ran a 5K on Saturday morning, and I have to admit that I was not too thrilled about it when I woke up that morning. It was 30-something degrees and raining pretty hard, and the thought of driving out to my hometown and getting soaked to the bone just didn't seem appealing for some reason.

But there was more to this day than the race.

A little more than a year ago, tragedy struck my most beloved suburb when a teenage boy died in a lake accident. He was a very well-loved young man and someone who had a lot of impact on not just his peers but on the community, as well. I remember reading and hearing stories about how the entire city came together to support one another—even rivalry football teams had shown respect at games in support of a town that was grieving deeply.

My parents still live in my hometown, and, even if I'm no longer there, I will always still feel a strong connection to it. It's where I learned the true meaning of friendship and community, and Saturday morning was an even stronger lesson in how love can make even the darkest of times seem more bearable.

Especially when the dancing started.

As I mentioned, the weather was miserable. But, despite the conditions, there was an unexplainable joy that filled the entire pavilion under which many people were crowded as they tried to avoid getting drenched before the race. There was music playing on the speakers where the announcer was, and at some point an endless dancing by a group of high schoolers began and made the event seem even more like a joyous celebration. It was cold. It was wet. There was no amount of sunshine anywhere in sight.

But genuine hearts full of love brightened up the entire park that morning.

Quite normally at races, as I find myself in my own little realm of anxiety, one can look around and see people in their own worlds, as well, as they warm up and stretch and do strides and keep the focus on success as soon as they hit the start line. But that wasn't the case on Saturday. No one was stretching. No one was warming up. No one seemed to care about running a blazing fast race or notching a PR or getting a medal as evidence of how accomplished he or she is. The focus, rather, was on coming together for a cause that's so much bigger than running.

After Jacob's death, his family developed a heart for orphans and decided to honor Jacob by helping young men in Africa who need homes. Through Jacob's LifeVision Home at Family Legacy's Tree of Life Children's Village in Zambia, the family hopes to be able to provide a place where boys can be mentored and provided for before leaving high school and entering college or whatever their lives hold for them beyond the orphanage. All of the proceeds from the run went toward making this dream become reality, and we learned Saturday that enough funds were raised to begin building one of two houses there.

Before the race, a local pastor led everyone in a prayer, and he mentioned how he thought it was fitting that the weather was so crummy that morning, as it was one more example of how God can still bring great things in the midst of tragedy. Even though the conditions were horrible, there were still quite a lot of people who gave up the opportunities to stay cuddled in warm beds or sipping hot cocoa by fireplaces so that they could come and be in the cold rain all morning with people who needed them more than they might realize.

As I looked around me, I couldn't help but feel a warmth in my heart at being reminded of how big our God truly is. I can't imagine what it feels like for Jacob's family to lose a son and a brother; I don't know what it's like for those teenagers to lose a friend who influenced them in so many ways; as a teacher, I've thankfully never had to come to my classroom each day and look at an empty seat where a student won't ever sit again. But I know what it means to hurt, and I know what it feels like to be able to press through hard times with a little help from those around you. I don't pretend to understand why certain tragic events occur, but I do know that God doesn't do anything on accident. We simply have to trust our lives in His hands while He works in them and through us.

After the race, you didn't hear people complaining about how wet they were or how running through shin-deep water slowed them down or how they didn't have a great race. Instead, you saw people smiling and high-fiving and thanking others for being there to support the family and the foundation. It made you forget how ugly the morning around you was, because you were suddenly enveloped with the beauty of the love that dominated it all.

Mourning can truly turn to joy, and we are able to see radiance take over the darkness as the promise of beauty for ashes heals even the most broken of hearts.

Hopeful thinking

Don't ever let someone tell you you can't do something.

Especially when it's during an adult league coed soccer game.

Almost every Sunday (well, during the spring and fall coed soccer seasons), my parents and I go to the park to watch my brother and sister play soccer in a league that one would think is all about fun but is honestly often treated more like the finals of the World Cup. I mean, it's pretty intense.

And it's awesome.

I love going. I'm there to watch and cheer on my siblings, but I also have a role of providing audible commentary for the ref and the opposing players.

Yesterday's game was the championship match-up: the Navy Team vs. the Purple Team (there are no team names—they just go by colors). Our team, the Navy Team, has won the title I think five seasons in a row now, so there was a lot on the line. After all, this is pretty serious business.

The first half of the game was rather discouraging as the Purple Team went up 2-0, and the Navy Team players just didn't look like they had it in them to rally a comeback. At halftime, the goalie tried to fire up his teammates by saying, "Come on—we're a second-half team!"

And he wasn't lying.

They are the champions, my friends

As time started to tick away (with only about 12 minutes left in the 45-minute half), we notched a goal on a nice cross-field pass. Then a player got a breakaway and scored another. Then we got a third one on a beautiful cross that a player headed in the back of the net at just the right time. This all happened so fast with still about seven or eight minutes to go. It was the type of miracle you usually only see in the movies like in The Little Giants or The Replacements or D2: The Mighty Ducks. Yes, I realize I'm talking about an adult league coed soccer game, but you just can't make this stuff up.

Even after going down two goals early in the game, many of the players on the Navy Team didn't get discouraged, which helped keep the hope on the field alive. Hope is essential—it's what helps push to keep us going when it seems like the best option is to give up.

There will be times in life where you might find yourself trailing and feeling like your dreams are slipping away from you completely. You still haven't gotten that promotion you were expecting; your friends keep getting married and having kids, and you're still waiting for that right person to come along; there's a traffic jam, and you're already stressing out about running late; you fail your first biology test in college, and you are supposed to be a pre-med student; you audition for The Voice but aren't selected to be on anyone's team even though you know you are talented enough to have a record deal eventually; you worked your tail off to get your master's degree in educational administration, yet no one seems to be willing to hire you as an assistant principal; you give so much time and energy in so many areas of your life, yet nothing is happening quite as you expected it would when you hoped it would.

But don't lose that hope.

Our plans don't always pan out as we would like them to, and it's actually a good thing. If we got what we wanted when we wanted all of the time, the world would surely be a messy place. It's honestly better that we have Someone who has a far greater agenda for our lives and works in His own special timing. The best thing for us to do is to trust that we are in safe hands and never to let go of the hope that keeps us pressing on toward those desires in our hearts.

Three goals in a mere matter of minutes isn't impossible by any means; rather, it's something that can be obtained with determination and with the faith that it's not completely out-of-reach. It's these types of moments in life that build character and not only inspire others but also provide an inner inspiration for those directly involved. And it's a beautiful thing to see smiles light up the faces of people who realize that something wonderful just happened when most people thought it wouldn't.

Hope has a way of bringing beauty out of the shadows and shining brightly enough to ignite a fire strong enough to challenge doubt, creating a battle that requires boldness beyond measure.

Spoiler alert: hope wins.

Beware of the beeping

I feel like I should know by now always to expect the unexpected.

You know, like the ATM machine eating your debit card.

Or the Icepocalypse wreaking havoc on your plans.

Actually, it was the ice storm that somewhat led to the temporary loss of my debit card. All of the branches of my bank in the area were closed—if you don't know, almost the entire metroplex shuts down if there is frozen whiteness outside—but I really needed to make a deposit before the business day ended Friday. Thankfully it's possible to do so via the ATM, so that was my plan.

It was not a solid plan.

I put my money in the provided envelope and sealed it, then I started searching for a pen so I could write my account information on it. I knew I had one somewhere. I could hear the ATM machine making the faster beeps to indicate you are running out of time, and then it spit my card out. It was then that I found a pen only to discover it was completely out of ink. Really??! In my frustration, I neglected my card for a bit too long, and the machine sucked it back in before I could grab it.

And it was gone. Forever. Well, at least forever for now.

Thankfully it's melting

I called the number on the machine, and there was no possible way to retrieve my card until the following week. Awesome. I left reminding myself just how stupid ice is.

But, the unwanted weather actually brought with it some positive moments in life. And a bit of nostalgia, as well.

Because of the unsafe roads that came as a result of the freezing rain and sub-freezing temperatures, the Dallas Marathon that was supposed to be run yesterday was canceled. I was set to run the half, so of course I was a bit disappointed that those plans were thwarted. I felt even worse for one of my friends, because she had worked her tail off for months training for the full and now felt like all of that training was for nothing.

Then fate stepped in—Aggieland was calling. We took a little road trip down to College Station for the BCS Marathon, where my friend ended up accomplishing her goal and qualifying for the Boston Marathon. It was kind of strange being back there and made me think of all of the memories I had for the brief period I was there in college. I hate to think of "what might have been," because my life would be a completely different story had I not taken the path I did, but I couldn't help but be reminded of so many things I let slip away by leaving Texas A&M. I felt like I was back at the ATM machine—rather than seizing the moment, I waited too long until something was out of my reach.

Life isn't meant to be lived regretting your past mistakes or wishing for things that never were. And I don't intend to live like that by any means. But I do think it's important to take advantage of opportunities when they are right there in front of you—they are there for a reason, after all. Don't let ice or fears or doubts or unpreparedness or anything else get in the way of living the bold life you know you're supposed to live.

And always have a functional pen ready at a moment's notice.

Stronger than yawns

I've certainly lost count of all of the times I've found myself in ridiculous situations.

And they just won't stop coming.

I'm on the Reading Team at my church, which means that every so often I read the Scripture passage at the beginning of the service I attend. Last weekend, though, in addition to the Bible verses, I was also asked to read a special thing that wrapped up the series on the Book of Mark we'd been going through over the past six weeks. For this, I had to read at all three services—two in the morning and one in the evening.

I have no problem with speaking in public, and I wasn't nervous about reading in front of everyone at three different services. Right before I was supposed to go up during the first service, however, I had a near panic attack. I wasn't worried about falling flat on my face or stumbling over words. There was a bigger issue at hand: I could not stop yawning.

At least this didn't happen.

I didn't know what to do. During the worship songs, the yawns just kept coming. I wasn't bored or even that tired, so maybe I wasn't getting enough oxygen or whatever the reason for yawning is. I started chewing gum, which has always put a stop to any yawning I've done in the past. Didn't work.

After the worship band sang the final song, one of the pastors came up to make announcements and lift up prayers of people within the church before introducing me. At the end of the prayer, there's always a time when the pastor allows a little time for everyone to lift up their own silent prayers.

You can bet there was one thing I was praying about right then.

I was really starting to worry. It just seemed so wrong that I should go in front of the entire congregation and yawn my way through what was supposed to be an impactful reading over the series and then continue that yawning through God's Word. I was fairly certain I was about to lose my spot on the Reading Team. It was fun while it lasted.

I heard the pastor begin to introduce me just after I had finished one more yawn. (As a side note, I can never recall a time I have yawned this much in my entire life. It's as if every single yawn I've ever had came back to haunt me in this very moment. What the heck??) I stood, prepared to bring shame to myself and possibly an entire team at church. But, as soon as I got up to the microphone, it was as if some miraculous cure came over me. I read what I was supposed to with no yawning whatsoever. I didn't think about anything yawn-related the entire time.

When I got back to my seat, I simply said, "Thank you, Lord," in my head, and He had a response for me on that one.

Do you really think I would let you mess up a message I want people to hear?

Touché, God. Touché.

What really frustrated me the most about this situation was that I hadn't trusted God completely to take care of me. Instead, I let anxiety take hold of my mind and convince me that I was about to fail at something because I couldn't control it. I realize the whole thing seems a bit silly and ridiculous—I mean, I'm talking this much about yawning, for crying out loud—but it is still an instance where I should have relied more on the Lord.

There are many times we will face yawn attacks, so to speak, in life, but we can't let those moments get the best of us and rob us of hope. In those situations where we are completely powerless, there's Someone who is so powerful that it doesn't matter how much it seems like the odds are against us. He can still come through with the victory.

Don't panic if a yawn comes your way—after all, it's something so fleeting that can easily be destroyed by the One who is on your side forever.

A non-selfie Saturday

Somewhere along the lines of discovering the world of Disney and its fairytale escapades, I fell in love with love.

As I've gotten older, I've come to understand what it means to love people genuinely and not just what Ariel taught me when she became a human for Eric or what Belle showed when she learned to love the Beast. I still love a classic love story just as much as the next Disney victim, but I also love getting to see a selfless love for others shine and work through people to those who need it most.

Every year, rather than making herself the central focus of her own birthday, my sweet friend Lucy holds a toy drive and 5K fun run. Those who attend are encouraged to bring new unwrapped toys that Lucy later delivers to local children's hospitals. It's become a pretty big event in our community and something I definitely look forward to each year.

One thing I love so much about it is the joyful atmosphere. Even though a lot of runners come out to participate, it's all just for fun, and there is not that competitive edge that's present at most races. This 5K isn't an actual race—there isn't a clock timing everyone, and there aren't any medals, trophies or prizes for anyone running. Everyone there seems to know that the real people we're hoping will win something are the ones who aren't even there—the ones who are the reason we've all come together on a Saturday morning.

This year, the weather was a bit adverse (well, for Texas, anyway) as the temperatures continued to drop, and the drizzle remained steady. If you've ever met a true Texan, you know that we aren't very good at dealing with these types of conditions. In fact, most of us just want to enter into complete hibernation if we hear the phrase "highs in the 30s." Despite what "science" says, anything below 50 can pretty much be considered freezing. Saturday certainly qualified as one of those hibernation days.

But that didn't stop Lucy's toy drive from happening.

A great morning, indeed

It was quite encouraging to see how many people still made it out to the traditional spot on the lake where the toy drive is hosted and the 5K starts. And, even though people mentioned more than once that it was cold outside, there was no actual complaining that occurred. In fact, there was such an overall joyous mood that one could easily look past how cold his or her fingers were because of the warmth that was hitting somewhere much deeper: in the heart.

The event was held a bit earlier than usual this year, because Lucy is extremely pregnant and due right around the time of her birthday. But she wasn't even going to let the birth of her own child interfere with bringing joy to the hearts of multiple children who might not think they have a ton to be thankful for right now. Sure, giving them toys won't cure their illnesses or make all of their troubles go away, but it allows them a brief escape from reality where they get to be reminded that there are genuine people in this world who know how to love others.

We live in a society that says it's acceptable to focus on yourself, and it's quite easy to get wrapped up into a mindset where we become our main priorities. But, the truth is, life isn't about us. It's about Jesus and sharing His love with those around us. While there's nothing wrong with having birthday parties or being thankful you made it another year, the more we're able to acknowledge that love is what matters most, the more joy our lives will truly have. My birthday this year seemed pretty mundane—I didn't do much to celebrate, but I also didn't do much to help anyone else, either. Saturday brought more joy to my heart than any birthday of my own could, because I got to see so many people come together with hearts full of love and selflessness as they gave their time and donations, all while sacrificing snuggling next to warm fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate or tea.

Toys don't make the world go 'round, but love sure does—and there's enough love in all of those toys to bring light to precious little kids whose smiles say more than words ever could.

Put on your PF Flyers

You can learn a lot of facts in life from fiction.

The Sandlot is my all-time favorite movie, and there are so many lessons you can take from this brilliant story. One of those is the reality that often the answer to our problems is so simple compared to the methods we try in attempts to solve them.

Smalls and his friends find themselves in a pickle when a Babe Ruth autographed baseball soars over the fence into the backyard where "The Beast" lives and reigns. As legend has it, anything that goes over that fence—including young children—never returns. The boys use all kinds of silly means, including Lego contraptions and human bungee devices, to try to get the ball back, but The Beast interferes with every single one.

Then the dream happens.

Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez, who proved to be Smalls' most loyal friend, has a dream in which the Great Bambino himself appears and tells Benny there's really only one things he needs to do to retrieve the ball.

Just hope over there and get it.

Understandably so, the young man is not a huge fan of this idea: "You're saying I should hop over that fence and pickle the beast?!"

One thing the Babe tells Benny about people getting chances to do great things really stuck with me: "Most people never take the chance—either 'cause they're too scared, or they don't recognize it when it spits on their shoes."

Every day we're faced with so many decisions and so many opportunities to be bold and take chances or to sit comfortably and let parts of life pass us by more quickly than we could ever imagine. We complicate situations by over-thinking them and taking roundabout ways that we've convinced ourselves will benefit us more in the grand scheme of things.

Lace 'em up

And we forget to live in the now.

When Benny laced up his new PF Flyers, hopped the fence, grabbed the ball, and then took off running for dear life, he was truly showing what it meant to live in the moment. He had taken to heart what Babe Ruth said: "This is your big chance, and you shouldn't let it go by."

Near the end of the movie, we learn that The Beast is actually a really nice and playful dog and that the boys had let misconceptions hinder them from recognizing reality—something we all do far more often than we'd likely prefer. Rather than attempting so many safe methods to make things happens, all we really need to do is hop the fence and trust whatever path the Lord wants us to go. It's that simple.

There are often huge beasts in our lives, and we tend to make them seem larger than they actually are. But it's best to put all fear to the side and, instead, lace up our PF Flyers and face them with a bold trust that no one can logically explain.

This is your big chance, and you shouldn't let it go by.

We all need mulligans

Golf might be a more significant game than I thought.

I was standing with my dad at my siblings' soccer game yesterday, and he was bragging to a guy about how phenomenal of a golf player my brother is. My parents and brother had played golf that morning, and Skipper never passes up an opportunity to tell other people about how incredible his children are.

And sometimes his stories are embellished.

I was listening to him go on and on about how beautiful Chris' stroke is and how far he can drive the ball—more than 300 yards with a 3 wood. My brother played golf regularly for a few years when we were kids but stopped when he decided to focus solely on football. So yesterday my dad told the man next to us, "He should have stuck with it. He could be on the NIke Pro Tour right now."

It's nice to have a dad who believes in his children that much.

I've mentioned before that I started playing golf when I was younger simply because my brother did. But I am not nearly as good as he is. In fact, I might be what some consider "bad." My mom always scolds me when I say that and reminds me that I won the city golf tournament alongside my brother two years in a row. I remind her that I was the only girl, and they had no choice but to give the trophies to me. I'm pretty sure I shot a 70-something…on nine holes.

When's our tee time?

The truth is, I'm not sure I really liked golf all that much. The tournaments we played were in the summer, which means one thing in Texas: scorching. And we had to walk. There were no golf carts allowed in the youth tournaments. My sweet mom was a trooper and volunteered to be one of the parents who helped out, so she was always with me, and I always insisted on being in my brother's group, so at least I got to suffer with two of my favorite people. When just our family went to play, I usually had more fun playing in the golf carts with my sister (and driving them illegally). And I really loved when the refreshment cart came around, and I got ice-cold Gatorade—yes, that was much better than actually playing the game.

I did, however, learn quite a few things about golf that have stuck with me, as I feel like they relate to life, as well.

1. Patience. You can't exactly rush things—or people—in golf. You simply have to wait. And you're likely going to get very frustrated, because you might hit a bad shot or sail one into the water or find yourself wasting four or five strokes just to get out of the sand trap in which you got yourself stuck. You're out on that course for multiple hours, and it often seems like there's no end in sight. I think this is good training for the real world, though. You're not always going to hit the ball the way you want, so to speak, and you might end up in brushes and traps rather than perfectly aligned on the fairway. But, regardless of where the ball lands initially, you can still make sure you get it to the green at some point.

2. Strength variation. When you're teeing off, you generally want to use a lot of force in your swing. When you're near the green, though, you might have to use a soft chip rather than something powerful. The same goes when your putting—you might need to, as we are reminded in the great Happy Gilmore, "just give it a little tappy, tap, tap, tap-a-roo." Life often hands us situations where we have to show great strength, but it also gives us times where we have to be more vulnerable and let our guards down. We have to be weak so that He can be strong.

3. Integrity. Golf is one of those games where it's so easy to lie or cheat if you really want. Thankfully, my mom certainly wouldn't let a Merrill do that. However, we played with this one kid once who really wanted to beat my brother, and we suspected he was not counting all of his strokes throughout the tournament. My brother still ended up beating him, but I'm pretty sure the other boy had an inaccurate score at the end of the day. I remember not being too proud of my 70-whatever-it-was score but content that it was at least truthfully earned. Being true is a good value for anyone to learn. People aren't always going to be watching you in life, and there will be times it's easy to "overlook" a few swings you took. It's better to resist that temptation and simply be genuine, instead.

4. Mulligans. This might be one of my favorite parts of the game: a do-over. Obviously you can't take a mulligan every single time you mess up, but it's good that there is at least an option for another shot. I don't think it's technically supposed to be allowed in a tournament, but, let's be honest, I am a girl, and I was the only girl playing in the thing, so I'm pretty sure they were a bit lenient on that rule. We frequently receive mulligan opportunities in life. In fact, Christ offers us so many mulligans that it's ridiculous, because we just keep making the same mistakes over and over again. But, His mulligan love is so great for us, that he doesn't even keep count of all of our mess-ups—they're simply wiped clean and replaced by our mulligans.

I'm not sure when (if ever) I will hit the fairways again, but I'm thankful for the things I took away from my golfing adventures. The good thing about life is that even if you don't score par, it matters not. There is no perfect score. We all have different courses and varied fairways, and we may end up in way more sand traps than we ever thought possible. But it's ok, because God doesn't care about that number on your scorecard. In fact, you can just shred that thing. As long as you're aiming for His green, you're as on par as you need to be. Who needs the Nike Pro Tour when you're on God's Tour?

It's nice to have a Father who is that faithful to His children.

Be prepared for cliffs

If I'm ever hanging from a cliff, I'm going to be prepared.

When I was a little kid, we got a pull-up bar at our house, and my siblings and I all took our turns trying to lift ourselves up. When we weren't very successful—except my brother, who could probably do a few—rather than factor in our young ages for our lack of upper-body strength, my dad said, "What are you going to do if you're ever hanging off a cliff and can't pull yourself up??"

Yeah, because that happens often.

Then we watched the movie Cliffhanger, and the Skipper reminded us once more of the importance of being able to pull ourselves up in case we are ever in life-or-death situations where we have to use mighty strength to ensure we don't plummet to the earth below.

Totally realistic

The Merrills don't mess around.

Recently, I decided I want to be able to do pull-ups on my own. I can do chin-ups, but pull-ups are a bit more challenging. I've been using the assisted pull-up machine at the gym and lowering the amount of assisted weight I use each time. My goal is to be able to do unassisted pull-ups before the end of the year. I mean, what if I hang out with Sly Stallone at the beginning of 2014? I've certainly got to be prepared.

A couple of weeks ago, I was taking off assisted weight with each set, and I liked the progress I was making. I was between sets and giving myself somewhat of a pep talk (while jamming out to Taylor Swift on my headphones, of course), then I did my reps and got down and did somewhat of a celebration about what I had just accomplished. I spun around, and it was then that I noticed the man sitting on the machine next to me just watching the spectacle before him. He did somewhat of a slow clap for me—most likely mocking me a bit. I was so happy that I didn't care. I said, "I did it!" gave him a high-five, then danced off to another machine.

I was telling my dad yesterday about how I was closer to saving myself during a potential cliff mishap, and he asked me why I don't try doing unassisted pull-ups each time I go to the gym. Rather than taking that approach, I've looked at it more as a process I'm going through to reach my goal. It's not one of those things I'm suddenly going to master without tackling various milestones as I go. It will take commitment, endurance and perseverance to get where I'm heading.

I feel like training to do pull-ups is the exact opposite of how I want to live my life. The more assisted weight I have, the easier it is to pull myself to the top, and the lesser weight beneath me leaves me struggling and using everything that's within me to eek my way to the bar. In life, however, I don't want to be only using the strength within me to chase my goals; I want that extra force—that power from God—working in me to help me every step of the way. I don't want to say "I did it all by myself." I want to say, "God did that."

At the gym, the goal is to reduce the amount of reliance on the extra assistance; in life, the goal is to increase the amount of reliance on the Lord.

If I ever feel like I'm hanging from cliffs in life, I'm going to be prepared, because I've got Someone incomparable to any piece of equipment a gym has ever seen.

Loud isn't always bad

When I was a very young little girl, I was often accused of being too shy and quiet.

A lot has changed since then.

"That loud thing" around my neck
(I apologize for a selfie)

As I walked into church yesterday morning, I was greeted by two nice men, both of whom I've seen frequently welcoming people and holding the doors for them. I was a bit early and the only one entering, but they each swung open a door, so I remarked, "Oh, wow, I get two doors opened for me today!"

They both made kind remarks, but one of them ended with, "Well, I guess it must be because of that loud thing around your neck!"

I just laughed and said, "I love fun scarves."

As I listened to the message in church on following Jesus in the way we live our lives, one thing kept standing out to me: be loud. The pastor didn't use that exact wording, but he was talking about showing love to others, and I couldn't get the notion out of my head that the way we live should be loud like my scarf.

Because love should be loud.

When I was in sixth grade, I got quite a few detentions. Now, just to clarify, I am not a troublemaker. In fact, I get near-anxiety attacks if I think I'm breaking rules or getting in trouble for something. However, I tend to talk a lot, and the detentions I received were the result of not closing my mouth when I was supposed to. I guess I just had a lot to say, and my math teacher didn't always appreciate my need to express myself verbally. Apparently I was living a bit too loudly in math.

And in detention you weren't allowed to talk. At all. It was torturous, though I talked a lot in my head and narrated all that was going on around me kind of like people do in television shows. Unfortunately, though, there really wasn't a ton to discuss other than the boy next to me who was trying to pick apart a pencil with his hands, which were covered in the residue of the Doritos I had seen him eating right before we were ushered in to the walls of our punishment.

There was also the time I got a detention with the guy I had a huge crush on in middle school. I quickly found out that detention is not necessarily the best place to try to capture the attention of someone you wish were your sweet baboo. You can't talk to each other, and when he's so busy unsuccessfully trying to make his Snicker's wrapper into a triangle for paper football, you might begin to rethink how you'd like to spend your afternoons with after-school activities other than suffering. Yet I just couldn't seem to hold my tongue enough.

But I know there have been a lot of opportunities I've encountered in life where I had the choice to be loud in the name of love or to sit back and keep quiet. Sadly, I haven't always made the right decision in those instances. There weren't even detentions at risk, yet I didn't take advantage of opportunities to be loud for Jesus.

Living loudly like that doesn't mean making a huge spectacle of things—it simply means being bold and having fearless attitudes in the way we show love to people. Even some of the quietest people have huge actions that drown out the rambunctious noise flying in from all directions. I've read quotes from Mother Teresa, though I don't think I've ever actually heard any of her sound bites, and she seemed like she would have been a rather soft-spoken woman. But, man, her love sure was loud.

One quote of hers I've seen quite a bit is, "We can do no great things—only small things with great love." Not everyone is going to change the entire world, but you can change certain people's lives with love—and by doing so loudly.

Because great love is loud love.

I may find myself in situations where I talk too much or am asked to lower my voice, and I may have clothes that stand out because of their bold colors or the fact that I live by the motto, "Anything matches if you wear it with confidence," but those things don't really matter. What matters is that love is loud. And it's never too late if you've been shy and quiet in the past.

You might even smile as you think, "A lot has changed since then."

The missing pink feather

I once was slighted when I wanted a pink feather.

And I'm still waiting for the day I receive it.

When I was in kindergarten, one day we joined with all of the other classes and had a huge Thanksgiving feast in the hallway, and all of us were dressed as Native Americans. These precious outfits we wore were completed with feathers, which our teachers provided, on our paper head wraps. I was so excited to wear a pink feather on my head. My favorite color was pink—this was obviously before I discovered sea foam green—and it was rather discouraging to walk around all day with the wrong color defining, as I thought at the time, who I was.

But my teacher only had one feather in her hand, and when she came to me and heard me ask for pink gave me a red one, instead. She gave the pink one to the girl right after me in line, who also happened to be her favorite student. I felt a dagger go through my young heart.

I realize this was many years ago, but I was hurt so badly in that moment that it has stuck with me ever since. Why was I not special enough for the pink feather? Why was I forced to wear this fiery red one, instead of the beautiful and bright pink one? Though I adapted in the moment and didn't let the situation ruin the rest of my life, the painful memory is still there.

And I still haven't given up the hope that I will one day find my pink feather.

Since this whole kindergarten fiasco, I've encountered quite a few instances in life where I don't exactly get the things I want, especially when it comes to relationships. The guys I've had crushes on never seemed to feel the same way, and the ones who have shown interest in me didn't make my heart flutter. And, the very few times when there appeared to be mutual attractions, and it looked like something might happen, it didn't. And I was left with heartache.

Perhaps one day

And I felt like I'd been handed yet another red feather each time.

My 10-year high school reunion was Saturday, and I was suddenly reminded of just how differently the events of my life have gone than I thought they would when I daydreamed of what the future held after I walked that stage back in 2003. So many of my friends are married—many also with kids now—or are in serious relationships, which I suppose is to be expected at this stage in life. As I sat at a table, looking around the room and soaking in all that surrounded me, I decided I was thankful that I hadn't mistaken any of the red feathers in my life for the pink one. I'm still waiting for that one, and I'm fine with that.

I think God plants certain desires in our hearts for different reasons, and it's necessary to wait on His timing for those things to come to fruition. Obviously the wanted color of your feather at an elementary school Thanksgiving feast isn't pertinent to your overall joy in life, but there are specific longings of the heart that should not be compromised, especially if He's the one doing the prompting on your heart.

My sister worked in sales until she woke up to God's calling to become a teacher, and it's amazing how fast and perfectly things fell into place for her to get her first teaching job this year—pink feather; one of my best friends went through a huge and emotional heartache that somehow led her to the man who is now her husband—pink feather; a dear friend went through a very hurtful period following a miscarriage before God blessed her with the wonderful daughter she has now—pink feather; every single day, people wait in expectation on things that don't happen, because there are different plans in order for them that are the most beautiful pink feathers anyone could ever imagine.

I didn't get to eat corn and rolls and mashed potatoes with my hair in pigtails and a pink feather adorning my head when I was a young girl fascinated by a special color. But that's ok. Sometimes the pink feather you need doesn't come when you think it will.

But I'm still not giving up the hope that my pink feather is out there and will one day find its way to me.