Scribed In Light

I recall a day when one of my children spilled their glass of milk. It cascaded off the edge of the table and right into their lap. My first thought? Welp, there goes my freshly mopped floor. And that’s when it started.

That little sugarkitten must have caught my expression, because suddenly the kitchen filled with wails that rivaled a jet at takeoff. The crocodile tears carved little rivers down those flushed cheeks, and my heart broke right along with theirs.

The only thing I could think to do was hold up my coffee mug, grin, and—yep—turn it upside down. I dumped the whole thing onto the floor. And you know what? It worked. Their sobs cracked into giggles, then exploded into full-on belly laughter. I pulled that sweet angel into my arms and said, “We don’t cry over spilled milk in this house—we just work together to clean it up.”

That moment became a lifelong lesson for me, too. Not because of the mess, but because of how quickly emotions can spiral—and how just as quickly they can shift with a little perspective.

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My Own Olympic-Worthy Spill

Now, don’t think for a second I’ve escaped the art of spilling myself. Not long ago, I tripped over a very obvious yellow cord and took the most ungraceful tumble down the stairs you’ve ever seen.

In a split second, I reached out to save myself and grabbed a flower pot for support—except it wasn’t some dainty little ceramic thing. Nope. It was an extra-large, heavy-as-a-heifer flower pot. And let me tell you, flower pots don’t double as airbags. They shatter. Loudly.

So now we’ve got me sprawled on the stairs, surrounded by dirt, shards, bruises, and whatever shred of dignity I had left. And yet, somehow, I had unintentionally staged what can only be described as a 10 out of 10 performance for the invisible Olympic judges (and probably my neighbors).

I swear the soundtrack kicked in with “Another One Bites the Dust.” My body was sore, my pride was sorer, but once the initial shock wore off, I couldn’t help but laugh. Because sometimes life doesn’t just spill the milk or coffee—the whole you spills… along with your outdoor decor.

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Life Will Always Spill Something

Life, bless its dramatic flair, will always be spilling something.

• Coffee on your shirt before a meeting.
• A flat tire on the one day you’re already late.
• A “helpful” comment from someone who should’ve stayed quiet.

And yes—sometimes an actual Karen will try to climb into the VIP row of your mind, waving her “let me ruin your day” sign like it’s a concert ticket.

But here’s the truth: not everything deserves a front row seat in your head.

Some things belong in the cheap seats.
Some deserve to be escorted out by security before the show even starts.
And only a few—peace, joy, grace, and gratitude—are truly worth spotlighting.

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Choosing What Gets the Ticket

The world will keep tossing little inconveniences at us. But when we hand every small hiccup a front row ticket, we burn out. We react instead of respond. We give away energy we didn’t even have to spare.

But when we pause—just long enough to ask, “Does this moment actually deserve a front row seat in my head?”—we create space to choose better. Maybe we laugh. Maybe we let it go. Maybe we clean it up and move on.

That small act of choosing where to place our focus is powerful. It’s not about ignoring pain or pretending nothing bothers us. It’s about deciding which spills are worth cleaning up right away… and which ones can just dry on their own.

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The Takeaway

The world will keep spilling. Milk. Coffee. Chaos. Karen. And occasionally, you and me tumbling down the stairs with a heavy-as-a-heifer flower pot in tow. But you don’t have to keep mopping with your soul every time.

Save those front row seats for what actually matters—love, laughter, growth, and maybe a slice of homemade pie if you’re lucky. Because at the end of the day, it’s not the spill that defines us.

It’s how we clean it up.
It’s how quickly we can laugh again.
It’s who we’re sharing the story with afterward.

And in my house, we don’t cry over spilled milk—or shattered flower pots. We just grab the towels, sweep up the mess, giggle through it, and remember that some things just don’t deserve the spotlight.

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Remember—your perspective is like sunglasses. If you slap on the cloudy, cranky pair, everything looks stormy. But swap ‘em out for the goofy neon ones, and suddenly the world is a carnival ride. Don’t swing at life with raw first-flesh emotion—you’ll bruise yourself and everyone around you. Instead, laugh first, react second, and watch how even the heaviest hearts around you start to lighten. Guide others by your grin, not your growl. Now go—step into today like it’s a comedy you get to star in…because honestly, isn’t that a way more beautiful script?

Love and grace,

Tina N. Campbell | Scribed in Light