From Mom and Dad to our Grad
We are not a sentimental family. We’re low on traditions. We rarely print a photo. And admittedly only one in four of my children has a baby book. (I’m working on it, I promise.)
But that lack of sentimentality did not stop me from feeling wrecked when my firstborn graduated from high school this month. I kept thinking back to a day when she was teeny tiny and playing on the floor under arches of colorful toys and shapes. I laid down next to her, looked into her eyes, and was overwhelmed by a flood of tenderness and fierce devotion. There’s no taming the impulsive and total protection of parenthood.
And so, sentimental or not, I have some things to say (again) before she walks out our front door, likely never to return as a full-time resident in our home. These are truths her dad and I have been rehearsing for eighteen years, but I want to say just one more time.
Cherished child, here’s what I hope you know—really know—all the way down to the depths of your soul as you make your way in the world.
You are not your academic performance or your future job title. There’s an overwhelming temptation in our society to equate who we are with what we do. We see one another as job titles, degree letters, and college majors. But this is a categorical mistake. We are human beings, not human doings. Resist the urge to validate yourself or others by replacing who you are with what you do. You and all your future college classmates and career colleagues are precious, unique, irreplaceable humans made in the image of God. Each person’s worth and dignity is automatically immeasurable because of the God who made us. And more than that, because you are redeemed by Jesus, your standing before God in heaven is perfect, righteous, and good. You are already loved, cherished, and fully accepted by the One who made you. No test grade or class rank or job offer will ever change that. The pressure is off: you have nothing to prove and nothing to lose. “Your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). You have been transferred permanently into the kingdom of the beloved Son (Col. 1:13). No failure, no sin, no circumstance in all of heaven or earth can take that away.
You were created on purpose for a purpose. Your existence and placement in the world are not an accident. You were created by Jesus and for Jesus, and he holds everything in heaven and on earth together (Col. 1:16–17), including you. He put you right here, right now (Acts 17:24–28), so that you might seek God, find him, and live for him. Look around you: all you have and all you are is a gift from God above. What do you have that you did not receive (1 Cor. 4:7)? God’s call on your life is that you might use it all to worship him and point others to him. You and all of your siblings in Christ around the globe are the light of the world. Do not hide that light, but rather, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:14–16). Whether your vocation is to be a doctor or dishwasher, mechanic or mother, do it all for the glory of God (Col. 3:17).
You are always, always welcome back home. There will always be a place for you at our table, no matter what. With God’s help, your dad and I endeavor to be like the father in the parable of the prodigal son. That father—like our God above—cherishes both of his sons. He loves the prodigal who sought the good life in reckless living (Luke 15:13), and he loves the older son who sought the good life in perfect, moral behavior (Luke 15:29). If you find yourself following in the footsteps of either one, know that we promise to ask God to help us always view you with compassion, to always keep watch for you, to hike up our skirts and run out to you, to embrace you and kiss you, and to always be ready to prepare a feast to celebrate your homecoming (Luke 15:20–24). Here’s some of the best news that I hope you will forever hold close: there’s nothing you can do to earn more love and acceptance from God in heaven or your parents on earth. And there’s nothing you could do to receive less.
All of life is about Jesus. Know him, pursue him, and worship him despite every cost. It’s so easy to get bogged down with answering the question What should I do? You’ve seen your parents do that more times than we can count. In our current age of technology and travel and choice, along with our wealth as westerners, the buffet of career and lifestyle options is limitless. Rather than wringing your hands over what you should do, commit yourself to who God made you to be: a worshiper of him who made you. Where you live, whom you marry, and what career path you choose, are all secondary—and a very distant second at that. The Lord created you in such a way that he wants your whole heart, and it will not fully beat unless it’s united to him. Your citizenship is in heaven; therefore worship its King (Phil. 3:20). To him be glory forever (Rom. 11:36). The secret to your happiness and success—the secret to your contentment—is to seek Jesus and to set your mind on him (Col. 3:1–4, Phil. 4:11–13).
Commit yourself to the Word of God, the people of God, and the Spirit of God. In the twenty-first century, we love shortcuts and life hacks. But the timeless, ancient ways of God cannot be improved upon. This is not an exhaustive list, but none of us can walk alongside the Lord wholeheartedly and with longevity without these three pillars of our faith: God’s Word, God’s people, and God’s Spirit. It’s true that God’s Word is breathed out by him, useful for all of life, and necessary so that we may be equipped for all that he has for us (2 Tim. 3:16–17). It’s also true that we are better together. Solomon was right when he said a cord of several strands is stronger than one (Ecc. 4:12). Followers of Jesus need brothers and sisters to spur one another on in the faith (Heb. 10:24–25). And we who are in Christ have a Helper who is with us forever (John 14:15–17) to lead us, to comfort us, and to equip us in all circumstances. We cannot live without God’s Word, God’s people, and God’s Spirit. Treat these three treasures as the food for your soul that they really are. Rely on them with the same consistency and tenacity with which you rely on air, water, and food. God’s will is that you persevere in the faith, and he has mercifully given you these means of doing so. Don’t neglect them.
God is enough, and he will never leave you or forsake you. Finally, life is hard. You have already experienced that yourself. We live in a world riddled with sin and sickness. Creation groans and awaits our Savior who will return and make all things new. Until then, though—and my heart aches anew to write these words to my child for whom I want no pain—you will face all kinds of trials, injustice, and afflictions. Your future may include a terminal diagnosis, the loss of a child, an unfaithful spouse, a natural calamity, another world war. As they say, we don’t know what the future holds, but we do know who holds the future. I entrust you to him. He will never leave you, and he will never forsake you. The Lord is your helper; therefore neither you nor I need be afraid (Heb. 13:5–6). Remember the cross and your Savior who willingly placed himself there on your behalf. And remember the empty tomb and the all-surpassing power of our God who raised him. The cross reminds us that God is good, sovereign, and trustworthy. He who brought the world’s best news out of the darkest day holds you in his very capable and infinitely loving hands.
So then, beloved, as you graduate and walk across that stage and into adulthood, I admit I lack sentimentality, but I do not lack strong feelings. I echo the words your pastor dad says every Sunday at the close of every worship service: Give ’em heaven. Come home sometimes. Look to Jesus. We, and he, love you so much.
Author’s Note: This article first appeared at GCD in June 2021.