For When Here Feels Less Than Awesome

Fridays are awesome. Especially when you hang out at Lisa-Jo’s. Because a whole bunch of people write for 5 minutes about one specific topic and then share it with the world and magic happens.

Today’s word = HERE.

I like it. So I wrote for (sorry — it was a little more than) 5 minutes. And here’s the magic that ensued…

**Before you read, you should know I am currently nearing the end of a one-year expatriate adventure in the beautiful land of Bavaria, Germany. A detail that will help as you read about my here.

Here.

I see today’s prompt and my mind starts flying. So much about here I could linger about.

I think of Jon Acuff’s great post a few weeks ago and his statement that “Now is awesome.” I remember the feeling those three words inflicted that day when I read them. The guilty I used for beating myself up.

Because I’m counting down days and can’t wait to get home where it’s summertime and English-speaking and I can sleep in my big huge bed and fill up my big huge refrigerator and drive down the street in my white minivan to go visit my friends I have not hugged in so many months.

“But don’t miss here for the longing of there.”

I know it. I’ve heard. I have tried to live inside this truth. The here and now will never be again.

But still. Sometimes I just want to be through the here and now and move on to the next one.

Don’t get me wrong. I love that I’m here. Would not change it for the world. I will miss so much about it, too. Especially my two foreverlong friends.

And the time around the table at dinner when the phone doesn’t ring and none of us has a distraction pulling us away from our togetherness.

I will actually miss the walking. And the bus rides probably too.

But I can’t stop feeling like I did when my kids were little and I so badly wanted to soak it all up for everything it was worth. Because, you know, they would only be toddlers for such a short time. And I didn’t want to miss it.

Then the truth would hit that my daughter had pooped in her pants or thrown up all over the bed. Or one of them would scream on the way out of Target because I didn’t let her put her own coat on. (Yes. I used to be a terrible mom.)

And, well, the here and now during those moments of rage or disgust or downright icky were less than awesome.

The real truth about here? It’s awesome, yes. But sometimes it’s hard and the hope of what’s next is better than the amazing of right here.

So I’ve decided to give myself a break and be okay with being ready to go home in less than 8 weeks.

And you know what? It’s helping me find the awesome of here before it’s gone forever.