I've been thinking about what it means for a regular person to have courage.
In August, my church explored the concept of courage.
Not the wild, brave courage of movies or adventure books.
But the courage each of us calls into being
just so we can live our lives as fully as possible.
I've been wondering if, as I get older,
I am less likely to take risks (not physical risks)
but ricks of the heart.
Trying out new things, new places, new ideas.
Two weeks ago I took my son, Adrian, to college.
He's going to the same school his dad and I both graduated from,
University of Arkansas, Fayetteville (go Hogs!).
As we walked around campus,
I was struck with all the new experiences he will have,
some good, some bad,
but so many will be new things to him,
and will shape his life.
I couldn't help but think about how I felt when I got to U of A.
How every new turn seemed like an adventure.
The world a big possibility,
even when I made bad decisions and had heartaches.
At 40, I love my career in ministry,
I'm a homebody who has to travel for work,
and who loves nothing more than curling up at home
with a cup of hot tea, a good book,
my sweet honey man,
and our kitty.
But I wonder,
if my love for what is familiar
keeps me from trying new things.
Does it damper in some way my everyday courage?