I am sitting on my couch, looking out the sliding glass door. There are clouds in the sky, which means we are in for a show as the sunsets beyond the mountains. The fading light will catch the nooks and crannies, cast long shadows across the back, and reveal the beautiful red and violet hues of each cloud. These magical sunsets are part of what makes Redding a great place to live, and today might be one of the last days to see one for a while. Once summer arrives, in full force, the clouds will disappear until autumn. I try not to take little moments like this for granted.

Earlier today, my friends Jess and Rob were over for a final visit. Over salads from Chick-Fil-A, we chatted about food and flights, the smaller details of life. It’s their last visit for a while, and I will miss them. My friendship with Jess is twenty years old, and she’s been my backbone through some of the roughest moments of recent life. She took me to the Emergency Room two years ago when I went into shock. And last year, as my world burned, Jess and Rob let me spend many tearful afternoons on their couch. So, I’m not overstating it to say they’ve been with me in some of the darkest hours of my life here in Redding. At times I truly believe the Lord sent them to Redding for me. Just for me. Not joking. Tomorrow Jess and Rob will board a flight back to Texas, the place they call home.

The Lord is good, and He knew I needed to see Jess and Rob before summer hits. Just being in their presence is a blessing, and they always encourage me to grow with God. It’s the best kind of friendship. I’ll miss them, but it’s time for me to grow up. 2021 was uneven, and that’s ok. I don’t expect perfection from myself- or others. I battled shame for a few months, anger, and anxiety too. Compared to last year- when I was motivated to impress a girlfriend and then an ex-girlfriend- the old habits seem to provide more comfort. But I know better. I know I’ve got to take care of myself, love myself, and do the hard things. I’ve got to write, create, and push my vocational boundaries. I need adventure, chaos, and meaning. As amazing as my friends are, they can’t give me what I need. It’s between Jesus and me.

I feel like a kid at the top of the high dive. I want to jump, feel the wind on my cheeks, and splash into the water below. Not only that, but I want to do it well. It’s not enough to leap; I want to do it with style and grace. But that’s not how life works. We’ve got to learn to be scared and alone as we face our fears. No one can do it for us. For the next three months, my task is to learn to jump, be foolish, and look like an amateur.

Eventually, I won’t be if I’m willing to try. And I am more than willing. I’ve tried everything else. Foolishness is my only option and path. Next stop: Amature hour. Staring me. Welcome to the show.

I know this post is a bit rambly. When I started writing, I didn’t have anything to say. I found the words as I wrote. Thanks for bearing with me.