Graduation signals the end of one part and the beginning of the next. It’s a closing and an opening. A promotion and demotion all at once. Moving from top dog to newbie with each step across the stage.

 This month, my oldest graduates from eighth grade. He will move into high school; from the top of the eighth-grade food chain to the bottom of the high school’s. It’s the end of the awkward middle school years and the beginning of seeking out the interests that will become the foundation for the rest of his life.

I’ve thought about this season in his life a lot recently, as this month also marks my twenty-fifth anniversary of high school graduation. We were to be “the smoke-free” class of 2000. As a fourth grader, that seemed achievable, but once middle school hit, I knew the truth.

Crazy how our vision changes over time. I think about the Christy I was at 17. Ready to take on the world. Excited about the rest of my life. Convinced that having a career and existence on my own would mean I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Little did I know that the money never stretches far enough and time is really a trap—never having enough.

At 17, I had it all figured out. Life was a blank, open book and I could write whatever story I wanted. Now, at 42, I realize life has a way of writing itself and most of the time we just hang on for the ride. There’s very little within my control and I’m a long way from knowing anything, much less everything.

I look at my son who has the rest of his life ahead of him. These next four years will be pivotal for determining directions and a career path. He’ll have friendships. Responsibilities. Inside jokes. Projects. And things he’ll never tell his mom. And then one day, life will hit.

I pray that he’s ready. That I’ve done enough. Modeled well. Taught correctly. I hope that when he’s faced with hardships and tough rows to hoe that he will hold onto his faith and stand firm on the hope of Christ.

But that’s the thing with graduations. What we do next, what we learn, the things we cling to, those are all up us. We make our own decisions, whether good or bad. We choose. We leave. And we charge forward.

Never in a million years would I have imagined the life I have now. But then again, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.