LIGHT THE WAY

There is a particular soda machine at my job that has Diet Dr. Pepper in it.

That alone is a blessing—depending on your perspective.
In my perspective? A genuine blessing.

The catch is the bottle. Diet Dr. Pepper bottles are shaped just a little differently than most soda bottles—rounder at the bottom, a bit different at the top—and for whatever reason, this certain machine does not like them. Sometimes you put your money in, press the button, and nothing. The bottle becomes lodged in the machine.

Which can be frustrating—if you let it be.

It is easy to let small inconveniences hijack our mood. Five minutes turns into an hour. An hour turns into the rest of the day. And suddenly, something minor has more power over us than it ever deserved.

Sometimes when the soda doesn’t come out, I end up buying another one. Which is ridiculous. Spending $5 on two 20-ounce sodas is wild. However, I don’t like leaving behind something I already paid for. Sometimes I do anyway—because you have to cut your losses.

And that’s life.

Sometimes the loss is small—just a soda.
Other times, it’s something much bigger.
Either way, the lesson is the same: you don’t control everything, but you do control yourself.

Before Christmas break, I ended up with an extra Diet Dr. Pepper. I don’t remember exactly how—maybe I bought two, maybe one got stuck—but I had extra. I stayed after school so a student who arrived late could finish her final. As I packed up, I laughed and said, “I’m going to put this in my bag, and future me will be really grateful to past me.”

She laughed. Thought it was funny.

This may be difficult to believe, but “future me” completely forgot about the Diet Dr. Pepper tucked away in my work bag.

Fast forward to Thursday. I put my money in the tricky soda machine, fully aware of the risk I was taking. I pressed the button. And—of course—it steals my money and keeps the drink. My first thought?

Well… this is probably karma.

Maybe for the time I benefited from a drink that wasn’t mine. Maybe just one of those moments where life quietly balances the scales.

And instead of spiraling, I chose peace.

Later that day, class ended. I was laughing with my students. We were playing a “Would You Rather” game. It was a good day.

Then I reached into my bag and felt it.

A bottle.

Past me had left future me a Diet Dr. Pepper.

It was one of those moments that feels holy in its simplicity—like sitting in church and realizing the sermon is speaking directly to your heart. I felt seen. Reminded. Grounded.

Because lately, God has been gently but persistently reminding me of this truth:

You don’t control what happens to you.
You do control how you respond.
And your mindset matters.

Not positivity in a toxic, dismissive way—but gratitude. Awareness. Perspective. The kind that says, “Thank you, God, even when things don’t go the way I hoped.”

Sometimes blessings come wrapped in inconvenience.
Sometimes lessons come disguised as stuck soda bottles.
And sometimes grace looks like your past self quietly taking care of your future self.

Even if it’s just with a Diet Dr. Pepper.

Take a moment and ask yourself:

You don’t have to write anything profound. Just honest.

God,
Thank You for reminding me that I don’t have to control everything to trust You.
Thank You for the small mercies—the ones that seem insignificant until they aren’t.
Help me release frustration quickly and replace it with gratitude.
Teach me to see Your hand not only in the big moments, but in the quiet ones too.
Guide my mindset, guard my heart, and help me respond with grace instead of resentment.
Amen.

This week, notice the small things—the inconveniences, the delays, the moments that test your patience. Before reacting, pause and ask:

What perspective am I choosing right now?

If this reflection resonated with you, share it with someone who might need the reminder. Light spreads when we pass it on.

In solidarity,

Lyndsay LaBrier