{repost from 7/2021}

In the middle of my ultra-running days we had a phrase we loved throw around.

(fear of missing out)

When a group of us went to go run 20 or 30 or 50 miles somewhere (usually involving mountains and coffee and seriously fun girl time) the person or people back home would text, “ugh, major case of FOMO!”

Goodness, I remember this feeling so well.

The craving for more. More miles, more races. More seriously fun girl time.

Can I cram a marathon in this weekend? Man, I can’t. FOMO

And it was all in good fun but also my mindset was: “I need to be there or I’m missing out.”

And then Lourdes was born and I traded many trail shoes for baby snuggles…but FOMO was still there. And not just for running.

Throughout the journey of life from then until now, FOMO has slowly been replaced by something called JOMO, joy of missing out.

The joy that intentionally choosing space and margain, NOT to do or have something, produces.

What a small, yet powerful, truth. A truth that is a main undercurrent of happiness and peace.

“Missing out” is a great act of humility. It is surrender. It is creating room for the Almighty to work. It is carving out time for the fundamentals: prayer, SLEEP, playing with our kids, meditating on the mysteries of God, silence. For in silence, in waiting and holding a place for God, does He come to whisper His profound words and imprint them deep into our souls.

Not gonna lie, FOMO creeps in major lately. Missing out on date nights, family vacations, another baby, 4th of July with hot husband, someone to talk to at night. Those are all lovely and beautiful things. And I don’t have them right now.

But instead of focusing on what I don’t have, I pivot and make lists in my mind of what I DO have. Of the interior and exterior graces and gifts. Of the joy in the waiting on God. In allowing Him to surprise me as my new, beautiful, future unfolds.

Never fear. Always joy.

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