kayfromhome

I am already nostalgic for the days I am living in. Pre-nostalgic, if you will.

There has been good in every season of my life, but none so solid, so quiet and calm, so deeply abiding as the good of now.

Sometimes, I weep prematurely for the days when things will change. I indulge in more than my fair share of anxious thoughts, where I speculate when the deep well of blessing and God’s good will toward me will run dry. Never if. Always when.

Why am I like this?

Always running forward in the race of life, trying to scoop up as many good memories as can possibly fit in my grasping hands; finding myself both yearning for times to come and times that have already come and gone, while inadvertently completely neglecting the time that is. A present, the present, unopened. Out of focus.

Moments of sheer joy, unnecessarily tinged with premature sadness, because good things don’t last forever on this side of eternity. The eternity in my heart (Ecc. 3:11) recoils at the touch of the temporal.

One day, I will remember with intense longing the things I take for granted today.

As for now, I will exploit this rare moment of clarity and presence of mind (and minding of the present).

I will appreciate the lazily spinning specks of dust slow dancing in the golden sunlight pouring in through the window of our first house. I will breathe in deeply, the warm woody smell of our secondhand leather couch, as the melody of passersby, children laughing, and the distant barking of a neighbors dog lull me into an almost dreamy dreamlike state.

I will thank God for today, today.