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.