Being Present Is Where the Joy Is

G=Goals O=Outlook A=Authentic T=Truth (#coateisaGOAT)

This weekend was short. Like really short.

I chose to drive to Eufaula first so I could squeeze every possible moment out of a quick trip just south of Atlanta for a bridal shower. It meant making a stop—slightly out of the way—to spend the night with my mom and stepdad, but if I was already heading north, it felt completely worth it. From there, it was back on the road to celebrate my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Being there also meant time with my stepdaughter and my grandbaby… and honestly, how could I miss that?

The math sounds a little wild when you say it out loud:
Three hours to get there.
Two hours at the shower.
Five hours and fifteen minutes to get home.

To some people, that might sound crazy. To me, it was completely worth it.

On the drive up Saturday, I listened to Chop Wood Carry Water by Joshua Metcalf. And then, driving to Georgia on Sunday morning, one idea from the book kept replaying in my heart: being present.

The book talks about how worry and anxiety don’t actually live in the present. They live in the past—what we wish we had done differently—or in the future—what we’re afraid might happen. But when we are truly present, there’s no room for worry. Presence crowds it out.

And that’s exactly what this weekend was.

There wasn’t time to rush (except when I realized I needed to make it to Priester’s Pecans before they closed, lol.) There wasn’t space to overthink. There was only the moment in front of me—time at my mom’s table, laughter, conversation, hugs. Then celebrating love and family at a bridal shower, even if it was brief. These are my people. This is family. And being there mattered.

What struck me most was how full my heart felt, even though the time was short. Maybe because the time was short. I wasn’t distracted by what was next or how long I had. I was just… there.

And that’s where I realized something simple but powerful: my joy lives in the present.

Not in stretching myself thin trying to do it all perfectly. Not in replaying what I could’ve done differently. Not in worrying about what’s coming next.

But right here. Right now.

So this week, that’s my focus—to keep practicing presence. To stay grounded in the moment God has placed right in front of me. To remember that even small windows of time, when we show up fully, can mean everything.

Every mile this weekend was worth it. Every minute mattered. And every reminder to be present is one I want to carry with me.

Because joy doesn’t live somewhere down the road. It lives right here.