It is beautiful in Atlanta right now. Temperatures are the upper 70s and low 80s. It is mostly sunny; the humidity is enough to make my hair curl slightly, but not enough to make you sweat. When it is not sunny there are these incredible thunderstorms. 

Elizabeth keeps telling me we’re just in Georgia (she doesn’t seem all that impressed), but I could swear I was in heaven. I was definitely born in the wrong part of this country – I am a southern girl. 

And yet, I keep having escape fantasies. Maybe it’s because I have these journal entries to write for New Testament that I would just do anything to avoid, but I find myself staring out the window and wishing I was somewhere else. Somewhere big. 

Somewhere with huge mountains or expansive oceans. Somewhere that would remind me how small I am and how small all this work piling up is. Somewhere that would remind me there are far more important things in this world than spring cleaning and taxes. Somewhere that would put all these feelings I’m having back in perspective. Somewhere big. 

Why is it hard to live in the present? Even when the present is a little piece of heaven? Why do I always want for something more or something just a little different? Why am I so afraid to let myself be overwhelmed by the beauty and goodness of here and now?