The year was 2007. I was a sophomore in college and my mom and I were with a group traveling to Egypt. Yes, THAT Egypt, the one with the Sphinx and pyramids and rich ancient history I was so fascinated by as a kid (and let’s be honest, as an adult, too). To say I was excited would be the deepest of understatements. I couldn’t wait to experience all the things I thought I’d only ever dream about.

As you might imagine, there was not a direct flight from Orlando, FL to Cairo, Egypt, so we had to make a couple stops along the way. To be honest, I don’t remember where our first layover was, but our second was a 12-hour layover in Paris. Yes, THAT Paris, the one with the Eiffel Tower and Louvre museum and Notre Dame.

Now, a 12-hour-long layover might initially sound like the worst. But that’s if you’re stuck in a random airport. This airport was in Paris; WE were in Paris. FRANCE. So rather than sit there and wait, a few of us decided this would be the perfect opportunity to explore. With our suitcases in tow, we took the train into the city and made the best of our time there.

We walked along the Seine River. We ate at a Parisian cafe. We took in the grandeur of Notre Dame. And then we jumped in a cab and asked the driver to show us more of the highlights. We drove by the Arc de Triumph, zipped through the high fashion district, and of course, made sure to get as good a view as we could of the Eiffel Tower. And then, before we knew it, we were on our way back to the airport to check in (again) and board our final flight. While I’m certain the experience would have been different and richer if we had been able to spend several days there, to me, the 12-hour-whirlwind was well-worth it.

Because after that experience, I now feel like I can honestly say I’ve been to Paris. I usually stipulate that it was only for 12 hours, but still. We experienced it. We explored it. We didn’t stay on the sidelines of the airport terminal; we jumped right in and immersed ourselves in the city as best we could. We were fully present where we were for as long as we could be.

It’s a fun memory that I think highlights an intriguing invitation I’ve heard before from people like Emily P. Freeman and others doing the work of spiritual formation. It’s the invitation to be where we are. Fully. Wholly. Present and attentive to the cadence of our lives and the location of our souls.

But in our actual lives, at least for me, being where we are is much easier said than done.

For instance, sometimes we struggle to be where we are because we don’t like where we are. It could be that we don’t like our physical location, but more often than not, it’s the circumstances that make it difficult to be present. In order to be where we are, we have to confront the unwelcome diagnosis we received, the job we lost, the job we hate, the relationship that broke, the resources that have run out, the burdens that won’t relent. We’d rather escape somehow, sweep it all under the rug, disengage and bide our time until something better comes along or the difficult circumstance goes away. We want nothing to do with where we are, so how can we truly be there?

Other times, we are so busy and our schedules are so full and we’re pulled in so many different directions that we just start going through the motions. It’s like we find a way to float above it all and never actually land. In doing so, we grow apathetic or maybe indifferent. There isn’t enough space or margin to fully be where we are because we’re always on the move, going to the next thing on the list. We’re distracted, and without realizing it, we miss out on the gift of being where we are.

So what are we to do? How can we best accept the invitation to be where we are, even in the midst of crazy schedules and difficult circumstances? While there isn’t necessarily a one-size-fits-all solution, I would like to offer a couple things worth considering.

First, consider naming where you are. Naming our physical and even temporal location can be a grounding practice, especially when thoughts and worries are swirling within. And our actual location does matter. The neighborhood you live in, the community you’re a part of, the people you encounter in your little corner of the world. With so much access and information at our fingertips in the form of the internet, it can be easy to get caught up in it all, to feel overwhelmed, and to forget our particular place in the world. There is power in naming that particular place. While we can and should care about what is happening beyond our zip codes, there is something to be said for living and loving locally.

It can also be helpful to name where you are internally. Naming and being honest about thoughts, feelings, emotions, and experiences can help us move through them and make the most of them. How you show up is often just as important as where you show up.

Which leads to the second consideration: consider welcoming where you are. Once you name it, welcome it. We all know what it’s like to be in the presence of someone who would rather be somewhere else or with someone else. It’s the person constantly glancing at their phone; or continuously looking over your shoulder as they “listen” to you; or the person who just seems so dissatisfied and disengaged. Unfortunately, I must admit I’m often that person. And I find that those tendencies creep in when I am viewing where I am as an obligation rather than an opportunity. We don’t have to like where we are in order to welcome it. And welcoming doesn’t necessarily mean giving something our stamp of approval. It’s simply a shift in mindset, from I *have* to be here to I *get* to be here. It’s holy curiosity. It’s leaning into the belief that maybe there is something to be discovered, even in what seems so inconsequential, so insignificant. That maybe God is present, even in this.

And really, I’m learning that that is the key to being where we are. Our ability to be present depends on our awareness of God’s presence. In other words, our ability to be where we are is greatly influenced by whether or not we sense God’s presence where we are. The truth is that God is always with us. Part of life as followers of Jesus is choosing and learning to notice.

It’s slowing down. Looking within. Engaging and exploring our experiences. Asking good questions. Taking time to listen and look for the movement of the Spirit. It’s recognizing and being honest about where we are. This kind of sacred noticing takes practice and commitment and intentionality. But as we peel back the layers of our souls and pay attention to the intricacies of our actual lives, we are sure to find God-Already-With-Us. We are never alone where we are. And that makes all the difference.

One of the things I love most about Jesus is how he was always present, right where he was. He didn’t stay on the sidelines, but engaged each person he encountered. He was able to fully show up in the details without losing sight of the big picture. Among many other things, his was the perfect example of what it looks like to be where you are. He was often pulled in many different directions, interrupted on multiple occasions, dealing with difficult circumstances (to say the least), but without fail, he fully showed up, right where he was. He was grounded in the heart and presence of God, and he brought that presence with him wherever he went, wherever he found himself. The same spirit that was in him is in us {Romans 8:11}, and maybe with some practice, we can do the same.

So today, remember to be where you are. And remember that you are never there alone. May we choose to notice and explore the movement of the Spirit in our lives, and may the presence of God enable us to be the people we are called to be, right where we are.