This week we celebrate our twin daughters’ high school graduation. They call it commencement. I think it was near my own graduation before I learned that the word “commencement” actually means a beginning, not an end. Someone tell that to my heart because this feels an awful lot like a conclusion. A tear-jerker.
Brad Paisley expresses it poignantly in his song, “Last Time for Everything.” Or if you’re not a country fan, then maybe the end of the song Closing Time will ring a bell: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” (Fun fact: Semisonic actually got that line from the ancient Stoic Roman philosopher Seneca).
Things just don’t stay the same for long. We see this really clearly with our little ones. Compare a three day old with a three month old with a three year old. That early physical development is miraculous. And we as parents help them progress from total dependence to total independence–that’s the job, right?
Each milestone for our kids has been a bright beginning for them. Every new skill, from riding a bike to driving a car. Every new freedom from crossing the street alone to not having a curfew. Every step with Jesus from trusting Him as Lord to leading others to Him. With each new beginning, some level of their need for me has ended (Don’t worry, their last need, cash, will continue for years).
I admit, it stings a little. But I would be very selfish indeed if I fought it. They are ready for this next chapter and I am proud of them.
As Christians, what should our perspective be when faced with things like endings and beginnings? One word: Hope. Because of Jesus, we don’t need to get all worked up about the seasons of life changing. We don’t need to be filled with regrets about our past. We don’t need to fear the future. We don’t even need to fear the ultimate ending–death. Because in Christ, all these sorrows get turned to joys. Even death gives way to a life with no more goodbyes. No more worries. No more endings. That’s our living hope!
I’m trying to remember all that truth during this season for our family. This life is not meant to be lived looking in the rearview mirror, afraid of what’s ahead. It’s meant to be lived on purpose, face to the sun, running toward our own glorious Commencement Day.
So whatever ages and stages you’re in as a parent, enjoy them. Things don’t stay the same for long. Today is a precious gift.
Here’s to the class of 2020.
“But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining for what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14).
