Be Present

"Today is a gift that is why it is called a present.  Cherish it."

Saw that once on a poster and laughed out loud.  What cheeseball psychobabble.  Seriously, today is a gift?  (I think on that particular day I was unemployed, broke and more than a little bitter.)

My counselor has been working with me on being 'in the present'.  To recognize what I am thinking and feeling at any given moment so I can learn how to understand and navigate my life in a far more healthful way. 

As I drove home from the airport yesterday, I finally understood what it meant to be in the present.  I was returning from "The Ragged Edge" writing conference (a blog on that glorious encounter later).  In the privacy of my car I was sobbing.  My heart was in a vise grip and my breath seemed to come from a very narrow place in my chest.

How was I going to pay this bill or that bill?  How was I going to have a career, a marriage, a ministry AND write?  How was I going to care for and nurture this infant artist and writer I just gave birth to at the conference?  How was I going to survive when I could count on 3 fingers the creative and artistic people I knew (and could stand)? How? When? Where? Why?  Add this to my general pissed-offness at God that I was in this dry place AGAIN.

Somewhere between stress eating a ham and cheese pretzel sammich and reaching home I discovered a truth.  I only have control of and participation in the present. 

My past is past.  I own it.  I also possess every single piece of wisdom gained from walking every solitary, broken glass covered step.  I can't change it.  God can't either. (Try that little theological nugget on for size.)

My future isn't up to me.  I can't choose who will love me or who will hate me.  I can't make a job happen or money appear in my wallet.  I can't build my dream home or spit out a published novel (or trilogy or two).  By worrying I can't make a single blade of grass grow.

What I can do is decide that at this moment, in this minute, how I will feel and what I will think.  I can decide to express my fears at the top of my lungs to a God who feels as far as the east from the west.  I can then decide to remember that He draws near to the broken hearted.   He also perfects that which concerns me.  And baby, I gotta load of concerns.   I could also put on an 80's pop tune, sing at the top of my lungs and 'drance' (dance + drive)-which is exactly what I did.

Today I practiced being in the present.  When I was working I was at the laptop, with planner and pen ready.  When I was with the kids I left my phone on the counter, looked them in the eye and played 'rain golf'.  When I was writing this blog I let my husband put the kids to bed.  I was present and fully accounted for.

Am I less stressed?  Most certainly.  Have the answers, provision and opportunities suddenly burst forth with an orchestral musical flourish? Um, no. 

I am content to merely hold my present.  And, for the first time in a long, long time I am looking forward to opening my new present tomorrow.