“Sorry, I’m running a few minutes late. I’ll see you in a bit,” I shot my 75-year-old friend a quick text message as I ran out the door to meet her for a cup of morning coffee.

I met dear Miss Ann a few years ago. She was a teacher’s aide in my 5th grade classroom, and we’ve stayed in contact ever since. Despite her age, she has always lived with the spunk of youth and a sparkle in her eye… always donning a new shade of nail polish, with frosty white hair tipped in the most fun colors (I can’t think of a color she hasn’t tried!). Ann has worked with kids for nearly 50 years and still can’t bring herself to retire. She’s one of the coolest ladies I’ve ever met!

The bell jingled as I walked through the coffee shop door and we embraced. The shop roared with the sound of old regulars meeting for a cup of morning Joe, as well as many tourists and local shop workers looking for something to start the day. We somehow managed to find a seat, and our drinks came after a bit of waiting. Ann ordered “The Grumpy Banker” (a latte with coconut, chocolate, and English toffee) and I settled for my usual black coffee (don’t judge!).

Ann LOVES to chat. She’ll tell you everything… in great detail. I love to be a listening ear, and I know she gets lonely sometimes, so I happily absorbed every word as she talked about her grandkids, knitting projects, new friends, and several summer adventures she had recently taken. In fact, she and her 82-year-old friend had just taken an eight-day road trip through the country together (ummm… GOALS!).

While she talked about her adventures, I couldn’t help but catch out of the corner of my eye what was happening around me. A large family came and sat down, presumably vacationers. They took up almost the entire coffee shop, with only a few seats to spare.

I noticed that 2 of them stood out as the parents, along with 4 adult children and each of their spouses, as well as nearly 10 grandkids. They gabbed and laughed while little ones munched on cinnamon rolls. Big cousins held baby cousins. Moms nursed. Brothers and sisters teased each other. You could tell this was a big endeavor, as traveling with kids is not easy, but they were cherishing every moment.

My heart sank a little. Every bit of me has dreamt for that scene to be my story. My life at 31 doesn’t look the same as I imagined it would as a hopeful 20-year-old. I had hoped that I would be one of those moms rolling the stroller around, or handing off the baby to Grandma for snuggles. Enjoying a large, boisterous, fun family time together with all of the kids in tow.

After my nearly 2-year relationship ended last winter, dreams of precious celebrations with family such as this shattered too. I had never thought I had put these dreams so highly up on a pedestal until they all came crashing down.

Despite the invisible ache in my heart, Ann sat there and chattered on. Life wasn’t all she had imagined it to be either (it never is!), as she described some hurt she was experiencing in various relationships. Yet, she still maintained a joyful countenance as she spoke of the reality of being present. Taking every opportunity to enjoy the blessings this life offers. She wasn’t going to allow life’s disappointments to overtake her ability to soak up the happinesses of her current season.

As a Christ follower, what I know to be true is that nothing falls short of His careful eye. He sees me, and He knows my heart aches when I see the family at the coffee shop. He knows my story isn’t what I thought or desired it would look like at this point in my life. He empathizes with my sadness and catches my tears when they come (and trust me, that happens often).

In the midst of Him meeting me right where I’m at, I choose to be present where God has me right now, desiring to live this life for His glory to the fullest extent.

I choose to meet my 75-year-old friend for coffee on a Tuesday morning…

I choose to bring food to my newly postpartum mama with her first baby… and even those with ever-growing families…

I choose to go thrifting with my mom, bright and early, as we wait in anticipation for our favorite place to open…

I choose to serve in my church in ways that I may not be able to if I were hauling a gaggle of kids around…

I choose to meet my mom friends at the beach, or the playground, or help with bath and bedtime…

I choose to drive 1.5 hrs to visit my sister-in-law and 5-month-old niece on my birthday…

I choose to say yes…

Yes to spontaneity. Yes to intentionality. Yes to soaking up every ounce of goodness that is found here, right now.

Just because I can.

I’m grateful today for Miss Ann, for sweet families enjoying vacation, and for remembering the gift of being present.

God has you where you are for a reason. Be encouraged, friend— you might never know what God could do with your “yes” today.

I have always struggled with my thought life, even from a very young age. Anxiety rumbled through my tummy on my way to school in the mornings.

“What if I bomb that test?”

“What if my friend doesn’t like me?”

“What if I forget my homework at home and I get in trouble?”

As I went through college and beyond, these thoughts slowly developed into bigger monsters as the world loomed larger.

“What if I don’t find a teaching job?”

“What if I fail at this?”

“What if I can’t find a roommate to help me pay the rent and I won’t be able to pay the bills…”

“What if that health symptom is a sign of a major disease?”

Most recently, my worries have revolved around the end of an almost-two-year relationship. All of my carefully crafted hopes and dreams for the future came crumbling down. Cue more worries.

“Did we make the right decision? Why is this so hard? Could I have prevented this from happening? What about my future?”

Maybe you can relate, not necessarily in the same situation, but the same vein, asking yourself… What if? What if? What if?

Today, I found myself doing something funky with my thoughts. (Man, I’m grateful for the way the Holy Spirit catches us in the act and brings awareness.)

I kept writing a narrative in my mind.

A narrative is “a structured, spoken or written account of connected events, forming a story. It acts as a framework for understanding situations.”

That last portion really struck me. This "mental narrative writing” involved pretending like I understood all of what was happening behind the scenes in my life. It’s like I was attempting to play God, making assumptions, predictions, and trying to predict the outcomes of things I just cannot control. I can’t see behind the curtain of what really is happening in particular situations. I don’t always understand why things in this world happen the way they do. I can’t control my circumstances perfectly to result in the outcomes I desire.

As I sat there throwing my anxious pity-party, God so graciously convicted me… “But what do I SAY to be TRUE?”

Well, okay…

I know God is sovereign over my circumstances.

I know I can trust His character because He is good, and He never changes.

I know He is working all things together.

I know His thoughts are higher than mine. He sees what I cannot see.

I know I can run to Him for comfort when I feel unsure and He hears me.

I know God can use everything I walk through to shape me into the woman He wants me to be.

When my thoughts start to run in a direction that will end up far beyond my reach, I must take them captive and remind myself of the truth… truth, with a capital T. I must rewrite the narrative using the Truth from God’s Word to ground me.

Only with the TRUTH of God’s Word can we begin to combat our worries with hope and remember Who remains in control. This doesn’t mean I won’t battle my anxious thoughts anymore, or that they will disappear for good. Yet, even in my weakness, God uses my worry to point myself right back to Him.