Cancel Your Trip to the Future

Do you ever struggle to fully enjoy something because you’re trying to prepare yourself for when it ends? As if keeping one foot in joy and one foot in future grief will somehow cushion the blow when the season changes.

We have a mini Australian Shepherd named Tucker. 
I am fairly certain he is human. If I didn’t know better, I would think I birthed him myself. Which now that I say that out loud, it just feels weird.
That should absolutely be filed under things we don’t say at parties.
Moving on. 

Tucker, who is healthy and happy, will be ten next month.
He is obsessed with being wherever I am. But lately, I have found myself near tears while loving on him.I know dogs don’t live forever and I know that even the sweetest chapters turn pages.

But instead of simply being grateful for the dog I still get to love, I can feel the future pressing in on the present. I catch myself preparing for a goodbye while we’re still in the middle of a hello.
I sit there and stare at Tucker breathing while I am bracing.

I call this pre-grieving.
It’s when we time travel to the future to emotionally prepare for the ending of something we’re still loving. Our imagination takes over and we picture life without the very thing that’s bringing our hearts so much joy. Our minds skip ahead to what we envision will be the closing chapter.Without being cognizant that it is even occurring, we rehearse the pain in advance, convinced that doing so will make us stronger when the moment finally comes. 
It doesn’t.

Everything we love has a timeline. That’s part of what makes love on this side of heaven so tender. The temporary nature of things is what makes them weighty, and a certain kind of sacred. It also makes things beautiful and worth savoring.
The temptation, though, is to protect our hearts by stepping back. 
But that simply keeps us from fully receiving the gift while it’s in our hands.

Two weeks ago, we landed for a trip we had been looking forward to for months. The wheels touched the runway and my youngest daughter said she was sad.
When I asked her why, she said, Because it’s already going to be over soon.
We hadn’t even gotten to baggage claim. And there it was again. The pre-grieving. 
Trying to soften an ending that hadn’t even entered the room yet.
Yet, all it does is steal the fullness from what is still alive.

Tucker does not need me crying over him while he’s licking my face. He needs my presence. Nor does my daughter need to miss the joy of a vacation while she’s still standing in it. And you don’t need to dilute your joy just because you know change is part of the deal.

So, if you catch yourself with one foot in the moment and one foot in the memory, just come back to the present with gratitude for what is right in front of you. Choose to stay. And stay FULLY. Resist the urge to time travel to a place that there isn’t grace yet. Because when the ending comes, you want to know that you didn’t emotionally leave early.

You can be sure that the God who holds your future is not asking you to live there yet.  He is already present in every tomorrow you are ever tempted to visit.
And the provision you will need for the goodbye will be waiting when it arrives.

Time traveling only brings shadows into your sunshine.
So, when you are tempted to only be half present today for fear of your tomorrow, write this down and use it as a reminder to keep your heart in the present tense: Love what’s in front of you, and let God handle what’s ahead of you.