The gift of showing up...

Lately, I've been thinking about something: What does it mean to really show up for the people we care about?

We talk a lot about being present, about "being there" for each other. But I've been noticing how often we confuse proximity with presence. How many times have we been in the same room with someone but not really with them? Physically there, but mentally a thousand miles away—scrolling through our phones, planning what we'll say next instead of actually listening.

I've caught myself doing this more than I'd like to admit. When we're only half-present, people can feel it. And over time, that half-presence creates distance—the kind that makes people feel alone even when they're with us. When we check our phones during conversations, when we give advice before we've truly listened—we're saying, without words, that something else matters more than this moment.

Attention vs. Presence

Maybe the answer isn't about giving people more of our attention, but about offering them our genuine presence. There's a difference between waiting for our turn to talk and actually being curious about someone else's inner world. Between hearing words and listening for what's beneath them.

I think about the people in my life who make me feel truly seen. When they're with me, I can feel that they're choosing to be there—not out of obligation, but because in that moment, they've decided that this connection matters more than whatever else is pulling at them.

Here's what I'm learning: showing up means putting your phone in another room during dinner. Making eye contact when someone's talking about something hard. Sitting with someone's sadness without trying to fix it. Being willing to have the awkward conversation instead of avoiding it.

This isn't easy, and it's definitely not instant. Some days you'll be fully present; other days you'll catch your mind wandering mid-conversation. But maybe it starts with small shifts: noticing when you're drifting and choosing to come back. Asking yourself, "Is this helping me connect or keeping me distant?" Acknowledging that people deserve our presence—not because they've earned it, but because we deserve the deeper connections that come with offering it.

There's a quiet power in really showing up for the people we care about. Not a weakness that makes us too available, but a strength that says: "You matter enough for me to be fully here."

Until next week—praying for your success,

James

What does showing up really look like in your relationships? Who in your life makes you feel truly seen?