Hey Buddy

A note to the kid I used to be. And maybe still am, sometimes.

Hey buddy,

I know you’re scared.

Not of the dark. Not of monsters.

You’re scared of being abandoned.
Of being let down.
Of getting close and then getting left.
Of waiting for someone to show up and realizing they’re not coming.

You don’t say it this way yet, but that’s what it is.

So you try to be easy.
Easy to like. Easy to keep.
You pay attention.
You read the room.
You read people.
You adjust.
You go with the flow.

You learn to be what you think people want.
You learn to take up less space.
You’re afraid of what might happen if you show up as yourself.

Underneath it all, you’re bracing…

For the silence.
For the subtle shift.
For the moment when someone decides you’re too much.
Or not enough.

That fear doesn’t go away. It just gets better at hiding.

It shows up as anxiety.
As depression.
Overthinking.
Achieving.
Busyness.
Panic.

And the worst part is: you can’t explain it. You just feel it. Like a low hum in the background, always there, even when everything’s quiet.

This is what draws you to Jesus.

Not the rules or the rituals.
Not a perfect explanation of faith.

It’s the promise that He will never leave.
That He won’t walk away when you are sad.
That He won’t disappear when you don’t feel like you’re enough.

Jesus doesn’t make you feel like a burden.
He doesn’t get tired of your feelings.
He doesn’t flinch when you bring the version of yourself you think makes people leave.

It’s this faith that will shape who you become.
It still does.

Not because He fixes everything in your life.
But because He’s still here.

Always.

And you’re not alone.

Not now.
Not ever.

Love,
Jimmy

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“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

– Hebrews 13: