I rose early this morning. Fought back fatigue and forced myself out of bed.

Tried to offer my beloved the present of presence.

Because anxiety had him actively clock-watching until 4am.

We’re both insomniacs, reluctant night watchers.

I’m normally in a stupor of somnolence until what passes for lunch for most.

But today he needed me there to allay his fears before the world swallowed him whole.

We barely spoke. Hugs speak volumes.

So does meaningful eye contact and the rhythm of body language learnt over years.

I hugged my cup of tea and smiled, hoping silent reassurance would rise as steam.

And I thought how often I remain rooted to rest, captive to covers where sleep is so urgently sought.

What if I gave my beloved (and my Lord) the present of being fully present to them? Made it a top priority.

What would it look like to turn away from the lure of liquid crystal devices, the tug of social ‘need ya’ and make myself alert to the moment?

[bctt tweet=”Maybe the best gift of all we can offer our loved ones is to be engaged and fully present to them.”]

Maybe all they really crave is our time and undivided attention.

I’m guilty of forgetting that. But I sense a shift within, a desire to try harder.

To live with eyes, ears and heart wide open.

To make way for love and wonder in the everyday.

To be present to God’s presence most of all.

It’s worth trying, isn’t it? A kind of faith inspired, Christ-centred mindfulness.

I’m making myself present to the fellowship of faith-writing friends by linking up with Kate for #FMF, Mel for #essentialfridays and with Barbie for #WeekendWhispers as we share our words in community. You’re very welcome to join us.