Trail Mix

One of the most disappointing moments in life is when you reach into the bag of trail mix and only get peanuts and raisins – no M&Ms, chocolate chucks or whatever sweet secret morsel has been mixed in – just a handful of the healthy stuff.

This reoccurring suffering persisted for me as we drove from Pittsburgh to Florida this past weekend. We are spending Thanksgiving week with family who lives in Florida. I am writing this from Disney World, Erica’s favorite place on Earth (more about that later).

As I took a handful of a disproportionate amount of raisins, I was conscious of the woman sleeping next to me in the passenger seat. She has been fearful of every bite of food for the last several weeks, not knowing whether her body would immediately reject it or be satisfied by it. Unfortunately, the former just occurred at our last stop. We had carefully chosen Cracker Barrel (definitely not a place we would have considered outside of her condition) because of the simple home cooking. She chose the pot roast because just a week earlier, she really enjoyed the recipe our sister-in-law made. This is how it goes, favorite food this week may be the enemy next week. This time, Erica cautiously eyed the hot crock of meat and vegetables, gently took one or two careful bites and we immediately rushed out the door because her body rejected it. I paid the bill, tipped well for help with the clean up, got a change of clothes in the parking lot and got back on the road. I was on the verge of rage and Erica knew it. I was not mad, but I still can not identify my feelings, a mixture of frustration, disappointment and sadness for her.

After several miles of silence, I asked Erica if we could talk about the situation. I apologized for my tense reaction, knowing that she needed me to be comforting not abrasive. She asked if I was mad at her. A natural thought that we all tend to have when a close person is angry, putting blame on ourselves, wondering what we could have done differently to avoid it. I was not mad at her at all, but I was having the same thoughts, “She must be mad at me”, disappointed in myself and thinking of all the ways I could have avoided this. We agree the situation sucked and that when we look back, we will probably laugh about it… which we did 4 hours later when we arrived at my parent’s house.

Go ahead, laugh with us. These are the scenes that we love in comedy movies—a family member gets sick in a restaurant on a road trip, changes clothes in the parking lot while the old man in the adjacent parking space gets an unexpected view that makes him feel twenty-five again and the family heads down the road with the smell of soiled clothes in the car. That’s funny.

Our friend Kirk shared a writing that scientifically explains why I started this blog. It says that, neuroscience has discovered that every time you choose gratitude over complaint, you’re literally rewiring your brain.

Your thoughts carve pathways. The more you dwell on fear, frustration, and failure, the stronger those negative pathways become. It’s like walking the same trail through the woods every day—eventually, you wear a rut so deep it becomes automatic. But here’s the breakthrough: those pathways can be changed.

Every time you interrupt a negative thought and replace it with gratitude, you’re building new neural connections. You’re training your brain to default to peace instead of panic. To notice blessings instead of problems. In the Bible, Romans 12:2 has been saying this for 2,000 years: “Be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Gratitude (and the ability to find joy in the situation) isn’t just a nice idea. It’s a tool God gives us to actually transform how we think, feel, and live.

Not only is this a reminder to us all, but it is also parallel to Erica’s situation. She is retraining her brain, building new paths to walking, talking, forming thoughts and overcoming fears. The trails in her brain are not just dug deep, but overgrown and impassable.

We pray that new trails emerge as we consciously and intentionally choose joy.

And by the way, thirty-six hours later, our path lead us to a ridiculous hot dog and an amazing hidden setting on the beach. We enjoyed both.