I'm sitting at the Flying M Coffee Garage in Nampa, Idaho. Sarah and I both have our names on the Performers' Wall from way-back-when (when we used to play shows and be cool, you know?). I'm at the table I spent years of Wednesday mornings reading my Bible with guys from Cornerstone.
There are people working today who aren't barristas to me. They're my friends. I have a place here in this community.
This past week I have done final runs with two absolutely precious friends. The kind of friends you'd cross an ocean for if needed. I'm saying goodbye and it hurts.
The sorrow of parting is only present because of loving and being loved.
I know that these farewells will lead to the purposes we have been called into. I know we will build a new place of belonging. And I know that I'm not losing friends, I'm gaining more people to love.
But in four days I will no longer be able to sit at the Flying M and be interrupted by people who I love and love me. It's ok that this hurts. Jeff Roper is right, you have to embrace the process.
So today I'm embracing that this leaving thing is making me sad. The sorrow of parting is only present because of loving and being loved. And I wouldn't trade that for all the dry eyes and sorrow-free hearts in the world.
I love you, Nampa. And Jesus loves you, too.