“On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real. Your words. This shared feast.”
Today’s topic: HERE
There is a place I visit in my mind at times…a place where it’s just me in a little house with lots of windows where I have a beautiful table and a brand new shiny laptop and the table is decorated with perfect hydrangeas in blue and green and white. And I sit there with my strong, hot cup of perfectly sweetened and creamy coffee, contemplating the swirls of words that dance around my head. And I carefully choose which ones I want to blend together to make a symphony of thoughts. And there are no distractions, or interruptions, or timelines or clocks. I’m free to just dawdle and think and pray and write and dream.
My mind yearns for There as I flip through Pottery Barn catalogs and empty the dishwasher and pick up yet another monster truck before I break my ankle tripping over it. As I reprimand the children for bickering yet again and hand over my phone for them to play on just to get five minutes to write something for today. As I dream about redecorating and I change diapers and the hours slip through my fingers and before I know it, it’s time to make dinner and my coffee is now very, very cold.
I sometimes forget how much I have Here, for focusing too much on There. But Here is where forever is made. Here is where I decorate the toaster strudel and write “fairies” with the little packet of icing. Where yesterday I made Olympic rings and wrote “Go USA” in my best penmanship. Where these little things make her day. Where these memories of her childhood will bring a smile to her face when I am There.
Here is where I make Thomas zoom down the track and bring delight to his whole entire being. Here is where we snuggle on the couch and he rubs his Elmo across his face and just settles into my lap and doesn’t move for half an hour. Here is where he’ll remember how much Mommy loves to kiss his sun kissed cheeks and tickle his fat little toes.
Here is where God and my husband and my kids need me to be all in. For the journey is as much the call as the call itself. So I pull myself back to the present and tuck away my thoughts of There, and empty the water from the vase of blue and green and white hydrangeas. I write “HERE” in icing and watch it ease over the surface, melt across the edges and bleed into tomorrow.