I hear a car in the driveway. It’s ten after eight. I’m going to go let him in and feed him and probably talk about his drive and the weather and whether he wants decaf.

And then tomorrow I’m going to get up and go to church and either say what I’ve been planning to say or I’m going to stand up there and lose my nerve in front of everyone and sit back down.

I genuinely don’t know which one it’s going to be. I think I’ll know when I’m standing there. Maybe that’s wishful thinking. I’ve been wishful thinking about this for a long time.