When you have your people

There are some things I am fully qualified to do but avoid doing as much as possible.

Like driving a bus.

I had been somewhat dreading last Friday, because I knew it meant I was going to have to drive a bus. With children on it. I'm a very confident driver (probably sometimes a bit too confident) when I'm cruising around Dallytown or making my forever-long work commute to Canada and back every weekday, but there's something that gives me real anxiety about driving a bus. I was required to get my CDL when I was coaching, but I only drove a bus full of athletes once, and it was a situation where I was the only option available.

And that was almost two years ago.

I really didn't want to have to drive, but I had a promise to fulfill. You see, my students had earned a mini field trip to Cane's (which is seriously less than a mile from our school), and I had to be the one to take them there. My kids were counting on me, and I could not—and would not—even think about letting them down. I always encourage them to be fearless in all they do and to give their best in all situations, and I obviously could not hypocritically not follow my own advice.

As soon as we loaded the bus Friday afternoon, I started sweating. Even though I aced my driving test during the actual process of obtaining this cursed license, there is something different about being in a real-life situation without another licensed adult in the vehicle with you to take over in case you prove to be a destructive disaster. Instead, I had 11 individuals super excited about getting to go to off-campus lunch and all fully confident in my abilities to get them there safely.

Great crew

The trip started off rough. The brakes felt rusty, and it took me multiple times to press on them without feeling like I would send everyone flying forward; the doors flew open, but thankfully we weren't going fast enough yet, and the kids were all sitting in the back, anyway, so I stopped to have a student come pull the lever to make sure the doors remained closed tightly; I was still sweating; I was too nervous to go the set speed limit, and one student yelled from the back to ask me if we would get to Cane's before Thanksgiving; there were other cars on the road; I was still sweating; there was a super small turn space when we actually entered the Cane's parking lot, and I wasn't sure I was going to make the squeeze (in fact, I briefly paused and gave up, thinking I would need to call someone to come rescue us all from this horrid predicament, but I said a little prayer, and God got us all out of that pickle with only one tiny curb check); and I invented my own parking spot in some grass.

Once we got inside, the kids cracked a few jokes but also tried to make me feel better by telling me I did a good job. I love them. Then, they all wanted to go around the table and share what they were thankful for, and they pretty much all said what they were thankful for in regard to our precious class. If I were a crier, I would have been bawling. They warmed my heart more than anyone outside of the teaching profession would likely ever think teenagers could. It was the most beautiful lunch anyone could ever have at a grease-filled fried chicken establishment, and I wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

My mood changed, though, as we walked out to the bus, because all I could think about was the dreaded drive back to the school. It was a complicated exit from Cane's, and I wasn't confident in my abilities to be successful.

But Someone else was. And He gave me just what I needed.

Three of my students sat at the front of the bus rather than at the back with the others, and one of them said to me, "Ms. Merrill, we believe in you. We don't care how long it takes to get back, but you can do this." Then another added, "You're always there for us, so it's our turn to be there for you. We will be sitting here if you need anything." They talked to me the entire way, and I forgot about being so nervous. I forgot about all of my worries, and I knew everything was going to be just fine. I had my people with me.

Life can get hard sometimes—even more challenging than driving a big yellow titanic submarine on wheels—and it's even more daunting when you have to face those situations when you feel like you're all alone. But, if you surround yourself with people who truly care about you and will be there for you when you need them the most, you might find strength that you never knew you had. I fully believe with all of my heart that God puts the right people in our lives at the exact moments we need them—and He can use anyone.

There will be times in life when your bus doors fly open, or you feel stuck in a parking lot, or you feel completely overwhelmed and unsure how you will possibly reach your destination in one piece. But you aren't alone. You're never alone. Know that there is always a voice trying to whisper to you, "I believe in you." I hope you hear it.

And I hope you have your people there with you.

Nothing compares to you

I have to give major props to Sinéad O'Connor.

Homegirl knew what she was talking about.

Last week, one of my students was looking at a picture of a celebrity online, and she said, "Man, I can never get my hair to look like hers. Why does she have to be so pretty?" The girl next to her replied with, "I know—she's perfect."

And my heart broke.

As a high school teacher, I constantly hear young ladies say bad things about their own appearances and compare themselves to others. Then, when they do think they are looking their bests, they immediately take selfless and post to Instagram and Twitter to get as many "likes" as possible. Now, I'm not shaming the selfie completely, as I've certainly taken them with my friends, but I'm questioning the purpose.

When did it become so standard for people—particularly women—to size themselves up to other women and feel less-than-beautiful when they think they don't measure up to a certain type of appearance? The thing is, we aren't all supposed to look the same. We were each fearfully and wonderfully made (see Psalm 139:14), and it's useless to think we should have to look like other people.

I've mentioned before that I once tried to get rid of my freckles, but it was such a waste of time and energy. Truth be told, rather than focusing so much on trying to change some physical aspect of my body, I really should have been focusing more on my heart. The love that radiates and shines from within a person is much more powerful than anything on the outside.

People should read this

And you shouldn't feel like you have to change the way you look to impress others. They should love you as you are—and someone will truly appreciate those "flaws" you think you have. (Actually, there is Someone who already does.) I know my chest isn't turning heads; my hair gets frizzy and full of static sometimes; I don't have Beyoncé's bootyliciousness; my freckles are still here; my nails are always short and are seemingly incapable of growing longer; my ears are really tiny; I have a chipped tooth from when a volleyball pole fell on my head; I have a scar above my right eye from when I went flying into the corner of a bench—and I'm sure there are many other things about me that could be "fixed."

Because, as it turns out, I don't look like Blake Lively, and Ryan Reynolds is not my main squeeze. (I know—shocking.) You know why I'm not like Blake Lively? Because I'm Natalie. She's supposed to be Blake, and I'm supposed to be Natalie.

You are you for a reason, so be you. Just like Sinéad O'Connor sings, "Nothing compares, nothing compares, nothing compares to youuuuu." (You might have thought I'd never get back to that point, so there you go. You're welcome.) Stop comparing yourself to people you see plastered all over the Internet. Stop comparing your looks to those around you. Instead, compare your heart to what you want it to be. Are you loving enough? Are you living in grace? Are you compassionate to others?

Your sufficiency isn't in how people respond to your body image. There's a difference in being confident in the person you are and in needing others to validate that confidence. Social media can be great for many things, but it can be so detrimental in many other ways. When you look in the mirror, I hope you see beyond just the reflection looking back at you. That person you see is full of so much beauty and so much potential to impact the world in positive ways. And I hope you remember something so important and so true.

Nothing compares to you—and I hope you sing that loudly and proudly as you see that reflection every day.

We're not settlers

There are some things in life for which there are absolutely no substitutes.

(e.g. Wheat Thins.)

I was at the grocery store recently, and a lot of shelves were being restocked at the time. As my luck would have it, of course, this impacted my favorite snack ever invented: Wheat Thins. There weren't any on the shelf, which is quite obviously a dreadful situation in which to find yourself. An employee walking by asked, "Ma'am, is there something I can help you with?" I told him I needed Wheat Thins, and he told me they would be out soon, but if I didn't want to wait then the ones in the blue box were just as good, and he handed me some off-brand box with the words "THIN WHEATS" printed across the front.

Umm, no.

I declined and told him I would wait. You see, with most things I am perfectly fine purchasing the generic brands, but I have two uncompromising exceptions: Wheat Thins and Jif peanut butter. I feel no need to explain this.

If I had purchased those other crackers, I know it would have been a decision I would regret later. I would open the unfamiliar box and taste some bland product that could in no way live up to the perfection that is a Wheat Thin. I'm not sorry about this, but nothing even comes close. I would rather wait on the stock boy taking his time to get to the cracker aisle or drive to a completely different store so that I could have my Wheat Thins. They are worth it.

Plus, I'm not big on settling.

Perfection

I've mentioned before that I've never dated, which a lot of people think is strange seeing as how I'm now 30. (I still feel weird saying that age.) I often have people suggest that I "try the online thing," or every once in a while someone knows the "perfect" match for me, but he's likely only perfect for me because he's single, too. I hear people tell me to date around to have fun and maybe meet a nice guy. But, to me, that's like buying the crackers I didn't want. Sometimes you know that things just aren't right for you, and you don't want to settle. Everyone is different, and we are all going to like different things and take different paths. I'm perfectly fine with waiting for Prince Charming to come along, and I'm perfectly fine if he never comes, and I'm single forever. But I'm not going to go through a bunch of thin wheat boxes trying to find him. I'll wait for the real deal.

I'm not saying I won't give people chances, nor am I suggesting that for others. I'm all about taking risks, but I do believe sometimes you just know—you have this intrinsic feeling—that someone isn't right for you. And you don't necessarily have to go on a date to figure that out. I realize many people don't agree with this, but that's fine. We don't have to agree, because we aren't the same people, and we aren't living the same lives. But, if you know someone is or isn't right for you, then I think you should go with your gut.

If there's something in life that you don't want to compromise on, then don't. When you know something else is worth the wait, then wait. It's worth it—you're worth it. Sometimes it seems like God takes longer than the stock boy, but just practice a little patient endurance.

Because when you get that precious golden box, you'll be glad you didn't settle.

Because love and sports

I love sports, and I love love.

I guess it makes sense, because the two things are wonderfully similar.

You don't have to agree with me, and that's ok, because I will still believe it, anyway. Love and sports are simply very much alike.

The teamwork. Relationships can't be carried by one person. Teams can't be carried by one person. (Make your Michael Jordan arguments all you want, but he needed the other guys in each of his championships. Just ask Steve Kerr.) You have to work together toward a common goal, and it's going to be a really rough journey if you aren't on the same page. One word: chemistry.

The passion. When you are on the field or court, you put your heart into everything you do. There is nothing you're willing to let stop you in your quest for victory. Just look at the faces of Pete Sampras (that's right, I'm going old school) and LeBron James when they're in the heat of the battle. They dare you to mess with them. When you're in love, you put your heart into everything you do. Nothing and no one can stand in your way. You dare anyone to mess with you. Just look at Jack in Titanic. He got them off that boat, and he didn't even let bullies or frozen waters keep Rose from surviving.

That moment of greatness. Every once in a while, someone gets the chance to be a big hero in the sports world. Maybe you get to step up to the plate with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth, and you knock it out of the park for the walk-off grand slam. Or maybe you hit the buzzer beater to win by one. Or you throw the hail mary pass that hits your receiver perfectly on the numbers for the touchdown. And the crowd goes wild. Every once in a while, someone gets the chance to do something bold in the name of love. Maybe you get to haul tail through the airport and make a dramatic scene so that your soulmate won't board the plane and be gone from your life forever. Or maybe you declare your love for your Prince Charming in the middle of the street in the pouring down rain while wearing your best dress. Or you give up your entire day to help the man of your dreams who doesn't even realize what you're doing until you boldly tell him it's because you love him (that was a really good episode of Party of Five).

Give me football

The benchwarmers who never give up hope. You're always going to have those people on the team who just won't quit--the ones who show up early to every practice, put in extra hours of practice, never play a single minute of any game, yet still sit on the edges of their seats as if the coaches will surely call on them next. The hope is so pure and so beautiful. You're always going to have those people who can never seem to find love, but they are always hopeful for that fairytale ending to happen one day. They know love exists, and they never stop believing. Some call them hopeless. They won't agree, though. It's pure, and it's beautiful.

The celebration. When you win a championship—or maybe you're a losing team who finally just wins a game—you rejoice. And you do so together. You dog pile in the middle of the court. You tackle the hero at home plate. You trip over your skates as you rush to the chaotic huddle on the ice. You join the fans as they somehow they manage to bring the goal post to the ground. You immediately run to embrace your coach or loved ones when you cross the finish line in first place. You rip of your shirt as all of your teammates storm the field to join you in glory (Brandi Chastain became a legend that day). You celebrate together. The same is true with love. You celebrate together, because, as Jack Johnson says, "It's always better when we're together."

In sports, the main goal is usually to win. But it's also a journey along the way. You grow in the person you are, because sports help individuals develop character and poise. In love, you're trying to win but in a different way. And it's certainly a journey. You grow in the person you are, because love will test your limits, help you develop patience and understanding, and teach you so much about life that you thought you already knew but really had no clue.

You won't always win in sports, but you will learn to appreciate even the losses, for they help you strive toward success. You won't always win in love, but you learn to appreciate the heartaches and pain, for they help you become the person you were meant to be and make you stronger. And there's something about real, genuine love that will always be true. Allow me to quote Jack Johnson one more time: "Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart."

Love always wins.