Living unconditionally

Sometimes I say things to people that I really need to say to myself.

It's so frustrating.

The other day in conversation, my friend Amanda and I were offering tidbits of advice to our friend Laz. He began firing back with phrases that began with "What if this?" and "What if that?" Finally I said to him, "Stop thinking so conditionally," at which point Amanda reminded me that perhaps I should be saying that same thing to myself.

I hate those kinds of true statements.

I started thinking about that later, and she's right. Sometimes I really do live in the conditional tense. Whether it's worrying about things that may or may not ever happen or justifying actions or inactions, sometimes I let simple possibilities dictate how I live. And that is not what I want by any means.

Because that's not a bold way of living.

I used to be really bad about conditionals, especially when it came to guys. What if I try to talk to him, but he doesn't want to talk to me? If I say hello to him, then he could find out I have a crush on him. If I don't go on a date before I graduate college, then I am never getting married. (Yes, if you're wondering, I do realize how ridiculous I am at times.)

Now I just don't care.

But, I've noticed other areas of my life in which conditional living often occurs. What if I take this risk, and something bad happens? If my foot isn't better soon, I will probably never race again. What if I don't accomplish every task written in my planner today? But I think it's time to throw the conditional out the window.

To love unconditionally means to love without limits or stipulations. If I truly let love direct the way I live my life, then it should be an unconditional love and, thus, an unconditional way of living. (And, yes, I do realize I just used a conditional statement there.) I want to live without limits or stipulations.

When you constantly live in the conditional, you're much less likely to take risks, which could mean  missing out on so many good things. I mean, so what if a little rejection happens in your life? It's often those big chances you take that make you become the person you're meant to be, regardless of whether or not those chances end up the way you originally desired. It's worth it.

One day last week, one of my classes was being really bad, and the students were not saying nice things to one another. We were in the middle of an assignment, but I suddenly had a decision to make. At first, I thought, What if they don't finish this assignment? But then I realized how little that mattered in the grand scheme of things. They didn't need an academic lesson right then—they needed some life lessons and character growth.

So we sat in a circle at the front of the classroom like elementary children.

I made everyone go around the circle and say one nice thing about the person to the left. At first the kids groaned, but by the end they all seemed happy and had enjoyed sharing with one another. And, honestly, I wasn't concerned that we hadn't finished the previous assignment. What we had done was much more important and had more lasting value.

I like the idea of getting rid of the "if" mindset. We don't know what's going to happen in any future moment, so there's no need to try to predict it or worry about it. Instead of thinking about all that could or could not happen, why not just go for it?

Fly or fall, the risk is worth it.

Covered

There are certain moments in life when you know without at doubt that Someone is truly watching over you.

Especially in times when you feel completely helpless and alone.

One morning last week, I was running just like I do almost every morning on a route that I've run plenty of times. I'm always very aware of my surroundings, but I haven't been in many situations where I thought my safety—or my life—was at risk.

Until that day.

I crossed a street where a car was at a light in a lane to go straight, but then I noticed that same car drove past me on the road I had continued on, which meant the driver had diverted his path and turned rather than gone straight. He then turned right on a side street up ahead, which gave me an anxious feeling in my stomach. I was on my way back home and really didn't have a different way to go, and I was hoping he had continued driving on the street he had turned on—but I was very nervous that wasn't the case.

And, unfortunately, it wasn't.

As I started to run past that street, I saw his parked car in my peripheral vision, and a man was walking toward the corner of the street. He suddenly spoke to me: "Excuse me! Do you see this?!" Instinctively, I turned and looked and saw that he was holding a gun. He asked me again, this time more forcefully, "DO YOU SEE THIS??!" I said, "No," and then did the only thing I could think to do: ran like hell. I couldn't turn onto any of the side streets, because that would be almost walking into a trap, as they are all poorly lit and seemed like very unsafe options knowing he could navigate through them easily. I crossed the street and started running in somewhat of a zigzag pattern, wondering if I was about to feel a bullet fire through my back.

But then I felt this strange reassurance that said, Just keep running. I've got you covered.

And so I ran probably faster than I've ever run in my entire life. I don't think that man actually wanted to shoot me, though. I think he wanted to scare me and figured I would freeze when I saw the gun. Then he could do whatever he wanted with me. Thank God that didn't happen.

Even though I reported the situation to the police (who claimed they would monitor the area better), I've developed a certain hesitation anytime I step outside to run now. And my fear isn't in dying—it's in being taken advantage of and losing a piece of my innocence that has become so sacred to me. It's not something I want someone to steal from me. But I also don't want to live in fear, and I don't plan on doing so. Even though I've had nightmares every night since this happened, I know that was a moment in my life when God showed up in a BIG way. And that in itself is a reminder that we don't need to fear. Will bad things happen in life? Yes. But we don't have to be afraid, because God's got us covered.

I think the man with the gun had seen an easy target in a small woman running by herself in the early morning hours when there was absolutely no one else in sight. What he didn't factor in was the One who isn't actually seen. I'm thankful he wasn't able to take my life or my purity that day, and I hope he's never successful with anyone else in that regard.

I know my nightmares won't last forever, and I know the anxiety I've felt lately won't always be this high. I will certainly be cautious and aware, but I will not be fearful.

Because I know these words are forever engrained on my heart: I've got you covered.

You don't have to win to win

Don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't a winner simply because you've never stood on a podium.

You're a winner and so much more.

For the past few weeks, I've been watching the show "Master Chef Junior," not because I have any interest in cooking—we all know how horrible I am in that department—but because my friend's precious daughter (whom I used to babysit years ago) was one of the contestants. It was so exciting to see her on there not only because it's always neat to see someone you know on television but also because she is so extremely knowledgeable and talented. Seriously, some of the things she talked about when describing the dishes she made blew my mind, and I didn't understand most of it.

Last week, however, sweet Ryan Kate was sent home from the show when the judges announced the two contestants who were not advancing to the next round. It was so heartbreaking. As I sat there watching, I was getting rather upset with the judges—how could they be sending her home?? Do they not recognize true genius when they see it? I was thinking about a few of the other kids on the show who probably should have gone home, instead, but the call wasn't up to me.

What was most surprising and impressive to me was the way Ryan Kate handled it. She's a sixth grader but honestly acted more maturely in that situation than many adults would have. She had this admirable look of bravery on her face as she listened to the judges reasoning, and then, rather than getting emotional herself, she turned to the little boy next to her who was also going home and obviously upset about it, and she hugged and comforted him.

Ryan Kate may not have won the title of Master Chef Junior, but she's already a winner in so many more important ways.

I think a lot of times in life we focus so much on prizes and titles and accolades that we forget that none of that even matters in the end. We can't take any of that stuff with us. Do I love competing? Yes. Do I want to win when I step onto a starting line or field or court? Absolutely. But is there lasting value in those victories? No.

The real winners at my races

It makes me think of 1 Corinthians 9:24-25, which says, "Don't you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize." While there is nothing wrong with training hard for a sport you love and dedicating time and energy to it, the real importance is the training for the way you live your life and the way you love others, because that's what has eternal value. It's OK not to win everything, because there are often sweet lessons in those losses.

Pete Sampras didn't win every tennis title he contended for, but I don't think anyone can question how great of a player he was; the Michael Jordan Chicago Bulls didn't win a championship every year he was on the team (though they sure did win a lot), but we can probably all agree that they were winners; Russell Wilson just lost the Super Bowl on his interception, but if you see the way he conducts himself after either a win or a loss, you know he's a true winner; my friend Dawn wins most of the races she runs, but when she doesn't the class and attitude she has afterward show what a winner she is—especially now that she is setting an example for so many young girls she leads in her youth running program; my sister still plays on a couple of recreational soccer teams, and she doesn't win every game or championship, but she knows that it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things—she's there to build relationships with others and enjoy doing what she loves.

It's refreshing to see strong character and people doing things they love—and how they handle adversity thrown their way. Life is full of so many lessons and experiences to help us grow, but we have to be willing to let those moments develop us into the individuals we are meant to be.

Your accomplishments don't define you. You could never win a single medal or award in your entire life and still be a winner.

As long as you let love win.

As you are

You have to be careful with mirrors.

Because they don't always tell the truth.

Last week, a student walked into my classroom before school for tutorials one morning, and the first thing she said to me was, "Merrill, please don't look at me. I don't have any makeup on." This isn't the first time I've heard someone say something similar to this, and I just don't get it. I don't understand why girls and women feel like they have to be wearing makeup in order for their appearances to be presentable.

That belief is completely false.

I'm not going to say that there is anything wrong with makeup. Just because I don't like it doesn't mean it's not fun and useful for other people. But, I do have a problem with women not feeling like they are beautiful enough when they don't have any on. Looking different doesn't mean looking ugly.

A few years ago, one of my coworkers was selling Mary Kay products on the side, and she invited me to an event of some sort. I really didn't want to go, but she asked me about it more than once, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to support her endeavors for one evening. I hadn't realized that everyone in attendance would be applying makeup and learning various techniques, such as something called "smoky eyes" that I still can't comprehensively explain. At one point, the woman leading the demonstration came over to me with a concerned look on her face. I let her know that I never wear makeup and don't even know how to put it on, and she frowned a little and said, "You should probably go wash your face off and come back and start over again." I went to the restroom, washed my face off, then went home.

Prior to when we had actually started trying to make "smoky eyes" and whatnot, I had looked around the room at all of the women there with me. Each one was so different and so unique in her own way. They all looked like they already knew how to put on makeup, because from what I could tell they were all already wearing it, but I'll bet you anything that they would all look fine without it.

I just wish they all knew that.

Baby, you're a firework

One woman who had been sitting next to me was rather shocked when she heard me tell the other woman that I didn't know how to put on makeup. She told me that she could never be brave enough to go out in public with her face "undone" and that I am lucky that I don't need it—but I'm not lucky at all, because no one actually needs it. A lot of women don't realize how pretty they are naturally simply because they are so used to wearing makeup. No makeup doesn't mean ugly—it means different but still just as lovely. Most guys don't wear makeup, and we don't suggest that they need to. So why do women feel like they have to wear it to look their bests?

In the great 2004 movie A Cinderella Story (which somehow got left out of Oscar contention), Sam (Hilary Duff) is afraid to reveal her true identity to Austin (Chad Michael Murray), because he is one of the popular kids, and she is not. Sam is afraid that who she is simply isn't good enough for Austin. But, at the end of the movie, she finds a new boldness and stands up for herself, and Austin realizes he loves the real Sam. She didn't need to be wearing her mask and in an extravagant gown to catch his eye again—she was enough as she was. (I apologize if I just ruined the entire movie for you. You should still watch it.)

And you are enough as you are.

I love Colbie Caillat's song "Try." If you have a few minutes, you should listen to it and watch the video. It contains such a wonderful message that so many of us, man or woman, need to hear. You don't have to look a certain way to feel valued. It's OK if you like to get dressed up or wear makeup, but it's also just as acceptable to be seen when you aren't looking like you just stepped out of a magazine ad. The people who matter in your life are going to love you regardless of what you look like, and you should love yourself just the same. I think everyone is beautiful without makeup.

At the end of the day, you have to take makeup off, anyway. There's nothing wrong with wearing it, but don't be afraid to be without it. You can feel confident and beautiful with makeup, but you can also feel confident and beautiful without makeup. Either way, it doesn't change the individual you are.

Because you are enough as you are.

More than just

Sometimes life can make you feel like you're in a giant gum ball machine.

And you're just another gum ball in the mix.

Every once in a while, it's easy to feel insignificant in this world. I could throw some stats at you about approximately how many individuals there are, but those are just numbers. And people shouldn't be numbers. But I will tell you this: there are a lot of people on this earth.

And each and every single person matters.

I think that's something we often forget, even about ourselves. Last week I was in a meeting, and someone introduced me as just followed by what my role was in that meeting. It took me by a bit of surprise, and it certainly made me think later about how we sometimes look at other individuals as just this or just that.

She's more than just a sister

But we are not just anything.

When you call someone just something, you take away some of his or her significance in this world. That girl who makes your coffee every morning isn't just a barista—she's the person who greets you with a smile and helps you start your day off right; that man talking to his players after the game isn't just a coach—he's a motivating life-changer; that woman at the corner with the stop sign in her hand isn't just a crossing guard—she's a protector of the innocent; that man putting all of those flyers and bills in your mailbox isn't just the postman—he's the ensurer of delivery; that woman at the bank isn't just a teller—she's a trusted financial institution necessity; that kid you saw goofing around in the department store isn't just a teenager—he's a future leader; that woman who was at the park in the middle of the day isn't just a stay-at-home mom—she's a lover and a caretaker who does more in one day than anyone can imagine; that reflection you see staring back at you in the mirror each day isn't just another face in the crowd—you're a beautiful being who deserves to feel loved and valued every single day.

Sometimes work, relationships, or a number of occurrences that happen in your day can make you feel so minuscule. In the grand scheme of things, yes, we are pretty small—but we have a BIG God who cares more for us than we can even fathom. And He certainly doesn't see you as just anything.

God didn't see David as just a young man but used him to defeat Goliath and lead nations; God didn't see Esther as just a helpless woman but used her to risk her life by going before the king to plea for the lives of her people to be spared; God didn't see Paul as just a sinner on the road to nowhere but transformed him and used him to live a life for Christ and tell others about Him; God didn't see Mary as just a young virgin but chose her to carry the Savior of the world; God doesn't see you as just anyone and can use you to do mighty things, too.

You are valued, you are loved, and you matter—and that's so much more than just anything.

What you say matters

I'm not really sure how the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" came to be (and I didn't care to look it up), but it's completely bogus.

Because words are powerful.

Yes, I am well aware that "actions speak louder than words" and that you are to "practice what you preach," but I don't think we need to diminish the strength our words can have.

Because words matter.

I can think of so many instances in life when people said words to me that I still carry with me today. Whether they were good or bad, I still have them. Maya Angelou has a famous quote that says, "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." But, the thing is, sometimes it's what you say that makes people feel a certain way, and they won't forget those words that engrained themselves in their hearts.

I'll never forget when I made the horrible decision to do a triathlon, and when I wanted to quit during the swim, my dad yelled: "Merrills don't quit! Turn over and do the backstroke!" Now, whenever I want to quit something when I feel defeated, that line echoes through my mind, and I press on and find an alternative way to stay afloat if I need to. His words had power.

I'll never forget the guy at my church who said to me, "You know, you're really small. But I have a feeling that God is going to have you do big things in life." Though I often like to think that I can do far more than I actually can, it's good to remember that God is so mighty and can use anyone to accomplish anything. I like to remind myself of this when I'm feeling too powerless to do certain things in life—God is so much bigger than any obstacles I will ever face. His words had power.

I'll never forget when a professor in college told me that I really didn't belong in sports reporting and would never make it, because it really wasn't a place for women. He suggested I change my major. I emailed him my first post-collegiate published article. His words had power.

Words have power

I'll never forget when author Annie Downs said to the audience at the Called Conference in Tennessee, "Brave people hear the voices of fear and step forward, anyway." My goal in life is to be bold in all that I do. But, let's be honest, there are some things that cause my palms to sweat or my heart to beat wildly with anxiety and make me want to run away. But that's not what brave people do, and I want to be brave. Annie said God made me to be brave—I remember her words, and I believe them. Her words had power.

I could give so many more examples, but they would all convey the same point: words have power. Your words can hurt people. Your words can heal people. Your words can make someone's bad day better. My heart feels something I can't explain when my students say meaningful things. Last week, two students nominated me for the Righteous Redhawk Award at our school, and what they wrote on their nomination forms made me want to cry. Their words had power.

Sometimes it's difficult to bite your tongue in certain situations. But just think about how something that takes you less than 10 seconds to say can stick with a person for much longer than you could imagine. Let your words be full of love. Let your words be like song lyrics that you want to sing over and over. Let your words be powerful in a good way.

Let love always win in what you say.

And sometimes you get kidney stones

I'm not a huge fan of feeling helpless.

Especially when grueling agony is involved.

I've experienced a lot of physical pain in my life—whether it's been broken bones, pancreatitis, ruptured ovarian cysts, or whatever else—but last week I went through what is by far the absolutely worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life.

Wednesday around 3 a.m., I woke up to use the restroom. When I got back in bed, I felt a weird pain in my stomach and got up again. I looked at my stomach, and it looked sort of inflated and felt kind of hard. Then I suddenly couldn't move. I didn't know what to do. I am not very good at describing pain, but I can say that it was nothing like I've ever experienced, and I was pretty certain I was dying. The feeling was in my lower left abdomen, so I knew it wasn't my pancreas (plus, I know that pain all too well), and I knew it couldn't be my appendix.

The thought of going to the ER kept popping into my head, but I didn't want to go if it was nothing. I called Baylor Hospital, but the woman who answered said that legally no one could give me advice on what to do. I still described my symptoms to her, anyway, and all she said was, "Ma'am, if you're in enough pain to call a hospital at this hour, what do you think you should do?" Ugh. I hate when people answer my questions with questions.

For almost another hour, I tried to curl up in various positions to make the pain go away. I figured that I really couldn't afford to miss work, so I might as well just suck it up. But, it finally became too much to bear, and I sent an email to our AP secretary saying I was going to the hospital and might need a sub that day, grabbed my purse, put on a coat, and walked (if that's what you can even call what I was doing) to my car. I still had on my glasses, because I was hurting too badly even to put in my contacts.

I honestly have no idea how I drove that morning. I know I was moaning the whole time, and then it felt like I was in a maze trying to find the emergency entrance. I parked in a spot that I didn't even know (or care) if it was legal, and I stumbled across the street and into the hospital. It would be almost another two hours before an actual doctor saw me and hooked me up with some pain medicine that would at least ease some of what I was going through. But first, a nurse had to try to put an IV in me, and she was struggling. I think she was new. She blew two of my veins and finally had to have a more experienced person come stick a needle in me. I wanted to cry so badly and for so many reasons at that point.

I went through a series of tests I will not recount to the public. Ever. But I will say they were awful, and I would never wish them upon anyone. Ever.

Even though there were nurses and doctors and other strangers throughout the entire emergency room area, I felt all alone. Granted, it was my own fault, because no one knew I was there, but it was very lonely, and there was way too much time when I had no idea where the doctor was or if he still planned on finding out what was wrong with me. My poor nurse Tyler probably started to hate me, because I hit the button to call him to my room simply to ask him if anyone was on the way.

These are my arms. I don't do drugs.

I spent two hours in the sonogram room, where Joseph made me drink two gigantic cups of water but told me to pace myself and then insisted waiting 30 minutes after each cup and 20 minutes between cups before actually examining my stomach with his machine. But, he was a very sweet man and even got me an extra blanket and the ugliest pair of socks I've ever donned when he noticed how chilled I was in my ridiculous paper-thin gown. When I finally returned with no answers from that to my hospital room, Tyler said, "Finally! You're back!" I don't think he actually missed me pestering him so much, but it was nice of him to pretend.

At this point, I had been there five or six hours, so I texted my sister just to let her know where I was. I think deep inside I knew she would come to the hospital if she knew I was there, and I really wanted someone there with me. I do a lot alone in life, but I needed my sister. I told her not to come, but she did. And I felt better when she got there. Sure, I was pretty drugged up and not feeling much, but the warmth of a sister's love can overpower morphine every single time.

Shortly after Steph arrived, I finally went back for my CT scan. I had already drunk the three cups of the nastiest lemon-lime flavored concoction a person can ingest that Tyler kept bringing me, claiming they made it easier to read the scan, so I was ready to go. I had to wait 30 minutes between each cup before I got the next. Don't worry—I was monitoring the clock and pushed the button for Tyler if we made it to the 31-minute mark with no new cup of nasty. I wish hospitals moved as fast in real life as they do in movies and on television.

After 12 hours of wondering why I even had to be in the hospital that day, I finally got the answer. The doctor came back and said, "I have some good news for you: you have kidney stones. Three of them." How is that good news?! Apparently it was just good that we finally knew what it was. Two of the kidney stones are still in my kidney, and the third had made its way to my bladder. That's what had caused so much pain that morning, because the stone was passing from my kidney through some very narrow tube that isn't big enough for a kidney stone, thus causing unbearable pain. The lone ranger stone was supposed to pass in the next few days but is still there, while the others could either stay in my kidney, go away, or eventually travel just as the first did. And there is no way to tell what they will do. Wonderful.

I'm not going to lie—I hate kidney stones. Multiple people (including the doctor) have told me that it's a worse pain than childbirth, and I don't doubt that for one second. But I think I came away with three valuable lessons from this whole ordeal:

1. Pain is often part of the process. Some things you go through in life simply have to hurt for a while. After the kidney stone leaves the kidney and makes you hurt terribly, it then causes a different type of pain after that, too. But, once it's left you completely, the pain is gone, and you can carry on again like normal (whatever that is). You just have to get through that difficult part—and you can. Sure, sometimes people have to help you out along the way, but that just makes them part of your journey, too. Whether it's doctors, nurses, or the best sister in the world, others will be there to aid and love you through your pain.

2. You can't live in fear. I am not too keen on the fact that there are two more stones from hell, as I like to call them, just hanging out in my kidney. And I am not a fan of the thought of having to pass the loner kidney stone, either. But I don't want to waste time worrying about what may or may not happen and when it may or may not occur. It doesn't make sense to live life with hesitation. Live it boldly, and live it fearlessly. And just remember that sometimes stones happen, and that's OK.

3. We need people. Life was not meant to be lived alone. The truth is, we need others. I needed doctors and nurses to take care of me last week. I needed my sister to sit with me and quote the doctor in Friends when he joyously says, "Kidney stones!" (I had waited for her to say this—I knew it was coming and truly enjoyed the awkward moment when she said it and then had to explain to the doctor why she said it the way she did.)

I never want to go through the agony of kidney stones again, and I hope you don't have to, either. But, I hope that when you do face any type of pain in your life that you will fearlessly press through it and trust that the Lord will get you through it. Trust without borders. And I hope that you will have people like Tyler and my sister to be there with you and help you forget about the pain.

Because genuine love is strong enough to do that.