I’m right here. I’m here now.
These words kept playing over and over in my head as I looked out over the sunlit turquoise waters of Lake Tahoe.
A mantra. A reminder. Anchoring me to the present, as memories from van life swirled around me. An indescribable feeling, almost bittersweet formed in my chest as I recalled the adventures of hiking in Washington and meeting certain people at music festivals. When I encountered God in Canada.
I had no idea any of that would happen to me when I first embarked on my journey, just like I didn’t know what was going to happen this time. And I realized what I was feeling was a feeling of newness. The excitement of jumping into the unknown and the sweet discovery of some place or thing or person.
My chest ached as I reminded myself SUV life wasn’t going to be like van life. Everything is different now. The vehicle is different. The intention of the trip is different. I’m different.
And while I was glad I’m not that person anymore, a part of me ached to go back to her. That woman who was full of fire, who had lived most of her life untouched by death and pain and sorrow. Who was about to have the best season of her life.
Then I realized why I was so melancholy.
I was telling myself the story that this nomadic season wasn’t going to be as good as the last, just because it was different. How could I compare the two, when this one hadn’t even started?
By doing so, I was also disregarding God and the fact that he had called me to do this. By telling myself that story, I was doubting God’s power to make this season the best yet. Who was I to say that he wouldn’t make SUV life far better than van life? I just had to trust him, which can be hard to do sometimes, even when it’s for something good.
But that’s why I love God; he’s patient and he’s gracious. He doesn’t hold it against me when I doubt him, instead he just keeps on loving me and transforming my life.
And so I let those feelings go and smiled into the sunlight, letting God wrap me in the lake breeze and pine scent of his creation.
I’m right here. I’m here now.