Surfing.

I surfed once.

Here’s the proof.

Actually, that only proves I stood next to a surfboard once.

That’s me on the far right. My son Josh in the middle. And son Nick on the left.

I don’t remember the year, but they were teenagers and we were in Hawaii, so we took a surfing lesson. I am assuming they gave us rash guards or something because I don’t ever recall us dressing alike.

My board is laughably huge.

With that thing, I didn’t need to paddle out. I could just place it in the water and walk to the other end, and surf back.

Like most things athletic, surfing is a lot harder than it appears when you watch it on TV. And also with most things athletic, I suck.

After a quick lesson on how to move from a laying/paddling position…to standing up…we were instructed to paddle out and give it a try.

Paddling out to catch a wave turned out to be way more exhausting than you would assume. I felt like my arms were going to fall off.

I finally got out, caught my breath, and decided to catch a wave. I rode it laying down on the board.

Next wave, I attempted the transition but I fell off.

Next wave, I attempted the transition, thought I had it, fell off, swallowed water, stepped on something that felt like a sea urchin, resurfaced, got hit in the head by my surfboard, and decided that I was not destined to be a surfer dude.

I told the boys I would watch the remainder of the lesson from the beach.

They surfed their hearts out until the lesson was over, and then begged me to rent them boards and take them to a beach the instructor had recommended.

There they surfed for a couple more hours until it was almost dusk.

At that point, Josh called it quits and we watched Nick surf “just one more.” For at least another hour.

I discovered I wasn’t even remotely a surfer.

Josh discovered he could do it, but it wasn’t his thing.

Nick discovered his passion.

He chose Palm Beach Atlantic University, partly because he could surf every day.

He moved to California, ostensibly for work. I think it was for the waves.

He has surfed all over the world.

He worked with the Christian Surfers Association for a few years.

And he still surfs regularly. 25 years later.

I don’t “get” surfing, but I am envious of those who do. I sense it is more than a sport. More than a hobby.

There’s a connection…a rhythm. A balancing that happens, far beyond the physical balance of staying on the board.

How blessed are we humans that get to discover our thing?

To “get it”.

If you haven’t found yours yet, keep looking.

Take a lesson.

Take a chance.