{If you're reading this via Reader or email, you'll want to click over to see the new blog design. Hint: I'm in love with it.}

It's a foggy, rainy day, the kind that makes me want to luxuriate over another mug of Irish Breakfast tea and peruse the Internets or read a book for hours. Since the baby I watch is napping at the moment, I suppose I could spend my morning accordingly. This is not in the cards, however. Nap time means writing time and so I call up a blank document and stare at the blinking cursor.

This is what the writerly life looks like at times. Inspiration doesn't always come when summoned. Discipline enters the building instead and the first few words falter out until a whole sentence- nay, a paragraph!- appears. And we are well on our way to another.

Still, the window catches my attention and my eyes flick away from the screen and out to the drizzling mist. I take another sip of tea and let the warmth soothe. I will myself not to play the new Avett Brothers CD for distraction. I contemplate evening plans and even what the weekend holds. It is hard to stay tethered to the present.

Last year my prayer became "use even this." A new layer has been added. A layer of hope and gratitude and a touch of reverence. This is my life.

The baby fusses, right as a new idea takes hold. Of course. I squeeze my eyes shut, then tap a few words down so I might remember the idea later. Inspiration has to wait once more.

All this is my life. I will rejoice and be glad in it.

***

One warm March day I sat in a coffee shop with friends and shared a recent realization with them. I'd been thinking about this blog and my message and whether there was a theme or not. I forced myself to look at my blog with an outsider's eyes and really consider the common threads. What emerged surprised me.

The last few years I've been drawn to the idea of what lies between Now and Not Yet. How do we move toward our future dreams while appreciating our present reality? Do we approach trials and difficulties any differently? How do we appreciate good fortune when it appears?

Even though I'm not longing for heaven quite yet (so much more life to live, thankyoukindly), I'm well aware this life is not all there is. There is Kingdom work to be done here on earth; this is our Now, heaven our Not Yet.

We're always in an in between place. We know beautiful seasons will not last forever. The next crisis could be around the bend. When we face difficulty, we long for it to end. We dream, we make plans, we are future-oriented. There will always be another Not Yet. We will always be in the middle of something.

What matters is our attitude, regardless or maybe because of what is before us. How do we strive for contentment when we're in between?

Whether I'm writing about singleness or grief, needing a margarita or celebrating friendship, the common thread has been there all along.

Reveling in the now. Whatever my present lot may be, let me relish it, let me drink it to the full. Let it be said I made the most of my days.

***

It's easier to practice contentment when the sun shines and you're basking in the glow of dreams no longer deferred. It's harder when we're in life's waiting room, unsure of how situations will resolve or when, not knowing if what we long for will ever be realized.

I remember the first time I came across Psalm 27:14: "Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

The verse was nestled in one of the Christy and Todd: The College Years books. I lay in my bed, home on a college break myself, and let myself cry over those words. I'd grown tired of waiting for God. The reminder haunted me. Did I wait well? What did that even look like?

A subtle change in demeanor started then and strengthened in the last few years. Whatever I'm facing, this is my life. I don't want it to pass me by. Sure, I'd prefer the trials and tribulations make a speedy exit but not at the expense of learning whatever I'm meant to learn. I think I mean that. Most days, at least.

***

True to Tennessee form, the rain cleared and the sun shone for an hour or so before the clouds reappeared. The baby's settled in her crib again and I'm back at my usual perch at the table. I allowed myself one- OK, two- Avett Brothers songs and a quick once over of Facebook. The tea replenished and now it's time to work again.

I could complain about the writer's block that's developed over a certain project and sometimes I do. Reveling doesn't mean ignoring our frustrations. But I don't want to dwell on them either. I know it's a privilege I could quit my job to write.

One of my favorite Rilke poems from the Book of Hours starts with this: "She who reconciles the ill-matched threads of her life, and weaves them gratefully into a single cloth." Yes, this. This is my call, my dream, my anchor.

This is my Now.

Thank you to Lore Ferguson for my gorgeous new header and blog buttons. She took my limited vision and ran with it. Now that's talent. Much gratitude to wordsmith dearabbyleigh for helping craft my About and New Around Here? pages- her words make me want to be friends with myself.