It’s 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning, and I’ve been awake for an hour. In nine hours, I’ll be further away from home than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m packed, I’m prepared. I threw the whole thing together in under a week.

When I was stirring in bed, going over the last minute preparations, it occurred to me that this adventure ahead of me parallels my journey to faith. Both were spur-of-the-moment, seat-of-my-pants affairs. Both journeys feel long overdue. If you’d asked me a month ago if I felt ready to take either one, I’d have said no.

But here I am, sitting at an airport terminal, ready to take a trip alone for the first time in my life. I’m flying to Hawaii to visit my college roommate–who is a dear friend–and his wife, whom I’ve never even met.

And here I sit, writing this blog to no one in particular, contemplating my faith and my place in Christianity. I think I’ve come further in that regard in the last month than I could have ever imagined possible.

Sometimes life comes at you fast. I’m a different person than I was a month ago, and I’m looking forward to God showing me what’s next.