Once again my heart breaks and soars at the same time. Graduation—the end of one leg of a journey—the beginning of another. A rite of passage. The official point of departure from childhood into adulthood. A new adventure. Our last to move on—so closely after the first.
This afternoon, the two brothers took on the challenge of taking apart an old four wheeler that has been in my backyard for eons. Hearing them talking, working, laughing together made me realize that the wind has changed. They were discussing college this fall. Orientation still to attend. The older giving the younger advice—–the younger actually listening and asking questions. It’s too much—-it’s too fast—I want to hit the pause button, but there is none.
13 years ago, this same month, my little boy stood on the same stage platform as today. He was going to be a fireman. His little ditty was:
I want to be a fireman.
I’ll be brave and strong.
I’ll listen for the fire alarm
all day and all night long.
Today, on that same platform, he stated his name, identified his parents, the school he was graduating from, the college he will attend and this time, instead of a fireman, he is going to be a premed student.
Last time was pretend and we all laughed and thought, how cute. This time it is for real and I cried.
The minister commissioned them not to be one of the 80% who will leave their church life behind. I pray this will not happen to either of my boys. Suddenly I feel as though I have been so inadequate—-falling so short—praying that God’s sufficientcy will fill in where I have been insufficient.
This Saturday night, I will look on with much love and affection as my youngest marches to his seat, traditional graduation music playing and at some undetermined, silent, secret moment, I will in my heart release him to grow to be the man God intends for him to be.