Early on in my married life, I determined, with ironclad conviction, that I would dedicate myself to the activity of surfing for the remainder of my days. I was certain, I would one day raise my yet-to-arrive-children to be comfortable with sand in their hair, their toes, and even a harmless bit of it in their granola bars and beach snacks. I envisioned us spending our days camped out along the seaside, playing together, nightly taking in sunsets over the Pacific ocean. However, my grip on that conviction started to weaken once my actual (not fantasy) children began to arrive. Because in the wake of “onesies,” and late nights with no sleep, and soccer teams, and a minivan, Amanda and I realized that kids eat sand, apparently funnel it in their diapers, and run with determination into arriving cars and crashing waves. We started to find the beach to be far more of a nuisance than a joy. I eventually, and reluctantly found ways to put my surfboards in places far less convenient to easy access, but better for long-term storage purposes and garage access.

But, that process began to reverse itself this summer. My two oldest (10 and 12) discovered a new, yet seemingly familiar love. Now, those who used to eat sand, dare cars in the parking lots to a game of chicken (a la: toddler-versus-car), and demand a nap in the middle of the day, can’t surf enough. The water that used to terrify them (and their sleep-deprived parents) now calls to them with the promise of adventure. The question: “What are we doing today?” has now been replaced by, “Can we go surfing today?” They, like most kids who surf, don’t ever stop once they’re in the water. For three or four hours they paddle in a kind of endless surf-treadmill: ride a wave, paddle out, paddle into a wave, ride a wave, and so on…

In looking back over the past few months, I’ve been trying to figure out what the “magic bullet” was. Why did they, all of a sudden, decide this was an activity they sought after? The only thing I can conclude regarding this surf enthusiasm was that they found friends to accompany them. This phenomenon is simple and time-tested. We know it with great familiarity. I find that question we ask first in most circumstances is not, “what are we doing?” but “who’s going to be there?” We can do most anything: adventurous, scary, daring, boring, or even labor-intensive if we’re with people willing to share the experience with us.

To stretch the analogy a little further… This year, as we proverbially “put away the white shoes” after Labor Day, we’ll look into the fall calendar and possibly wonder about the adventure ahead. For me, that adventure involves launching our new service on Sundays at 5pm. I’m grateful we get to take that next step together. It marks a great moment for our church community. Yet, for others of us, our present and near-future adventures are not the ones we eagerly sought because we’re in the midst of “it.” It hurts. It is a challenge. It feels like we’re ready to give up. So, we’re finding we may need other people more than ever — more than we thought we did. And, it turns out, they need us, too. So, no matter what’s ahead, don’t let an opportunity to get connected slip by. Start that process with our “Community Kick-off” on September 14th. So whether you’ve yet to complete the ROOTED experience or haven’t quite found a connection in a life group, come. Whatever’s ahead and whatever we’ll face can be met with confidence and even a sense of joy, so long as we’re not alone.

See you Sunday,

Jeff