Have you ever met someone who was stuck in the past, reliving their glory days of yesteryear? Or what about the person who is so future-focused, they can't be bothered with what's happening today?

I have. In fact, on any given day, I can fall into either of those groups. It's so easy to beat ourselves up over past mistakes and live in the shame of yesterday. And the future can be just as alluring as dwelling in the past. I won't like what I see or have seen and will plot my way ahead into a more favorable future. Because I'm so focused on my long-term plans, I can miss out on what's happening right now.

I have seen this playing out in the crazy year that is 2020. I have wished for things to go back to normal. I looked at the things I did last year with a carefree attitude and longed to be able to do those things again. Seeing all of the grief and suffering around me, I've wished that we could fast forward to another time when there wasn't a global pandemic, economic recession and racial injustice. I've longed to skip ahead to 2022, just to be safe.

In the Bible, the people of Israel were a bit of a mess. In a glorious display of love and power, God leads them from Egypt, telling them He is preparing a place for them. Then they wander about in the desert for forty years, unlearning the slavery mindset and experiencing what a life of intimacy with God looks like. Talk about an adventure!

But along the way, the people in the camp would often get sidetracked by either their past or their future.

In Exodus 16, the Israelites grumbled against Moses, complaining about their desert accommodations. They reminisced about their time in Egypt and were convinced they would've been better off there. They were confident they were going to die out there in the wilderness. I wonder if their habit of looking back at their lives in Egypt was part of the reason why they struggled to appreciate all God was doing for them. They were too preoccupied with going back to normal that they couldn't see the blessings all around them.

Others were probably impatient during that forty-year healing process. I know I probably would've been! I definitely would've struggled to be content while wandering around and camping in the hot desert, without indoor plumbing or air conditioning with thousands of other people. I probably would've gotten frustrated with both Moses and God, upset that I couldn't rush into what had been promised to me.

Throughout their journey, God called His people to set up altars to remember what He had done in their lives. The altars were a physical representation of the provision and grace of God. These were invitations to reflect on His goodness in their present.

Imagine if you were either in the grumbling group looking at the past or the grumbling group looking at the future and Moses then tasked you with helping him build an altar to the Lord. I'm not sure if I could set up an altar while remaining focused on either the past or the future. I think that altar-building would help me stay focused on the present. It might help me recognize the hand of God moving in my life today.

This year has been heartbreaking and awful in so many ways. The world has experienced a moment of grief and horror unlike anything I've experienced in my lifetime. I understand the desire to rewind or fast-forward (I feel it, too), but I wonder if God is inviting us to spend a moment in the present with him. Despite the chaos, the terror, the anxiety and the grief of it all, how has God provided for you? How has He shown up in your life? How is He showing up today?

As we enter a holiday season that will likely be filled with longing for the future or wishing for the past, what if we courageously held onto the present? Instead of idolizing the past or revering the future, what if we just took a moment to enjoy the imperfect, messy present? It might be difficult, awkward, and uncomfortable, but I wonder if we just might find a deeper connection with God and others in that space. Let's give dwelling presently a try and see what happens!

Presently Dwelling