steps in the same direction
It has been close to three weeks since our youngest child graduated from college.
By the end of September, our children will be 37, 33, and 23.
It has been a lengthy patch of time taking steps in the same direction with each child and guiding them along their chosen paths.
We headed to Corvallis for two graduation ceremonies: one for three different engineering majors and, the following day, the general commencement.
The engineering commencement celebrated the schools of chemical, biological, and environmental engineering. Caleb earned a Honors Bachelor of Science in Bioengineering.
After waiting outside the building for what felt like days in the heat, we took our seats, opened our programs, and, surprisingly, discovered that Caleb had been selected as one of the student speakers.
After the ceremony, Carlen, our oldest, asked me if I had cried. I told her I was definitely misty, but I felt completely filled with joy and contentment.
The next toasty morning held the general commencement in a less cozy setting. We traded an auditorium for a football stadium. But I will admit, the university made the wait time full of fun and celebration. All the students, more than 9,000, walked across campus on their way to the stadium, and the spectators could view the procession on the jumbotron.
We watched.
We wait.
This is not my first graduation. I have attended many and have participated in my own.
Somehow, there is nothing like the moment of seeing your specific graduate.
The arms and hands begin to fly overhead.
The whooping and hollering begins.
We search.
He searches.
Then, in an instant, there is such a deep moment of recognition.
Our row sees Caleb.
It’s him.
He sees us, his people.
His smile extends across the 40-yard line.
This was the moment tears found me.
There is something about being seen and claimed.
It was breathtaking, and it was happening all over the stadium.
It was almost too much to bear the eruptions of rejoicing from every corner.
How often does one feel like the center of attention in the midst of thousands?
Caleb had continued to take steps in the same direction, leading to his seat on the turf.
In part, it was an ending of sorts, walking our youngest to a mighty milestone.
Yet within those steps were years of Caleb being hauled around to watch his sisters in their endeavors.
Praying their age gaps would someday be obliterated by the richest of friendships.
Now Carlen and Courtney were front and center, waving their arms as banners over the brother they adore and admire.
Caleb Joseph means faithful, and God will add.
His name rings true; he has filled and completed our family.
Carl and I look at each other with admittedly eyes of joy and fatigue.
In a couple of weeks, we will celebrate 40 years of marriage.
We have continued to take steps in the same direction.
Life is all about steps in the same direction.
I am not suggesting each step is easy or free of hard or shifting ground.
The key is to keep walking, and if it is your lot, link arms and walk together in the same direction.
I think about the cloud of witnesses, cheering us onward.
I think of how God delights in us and looks to and fro for us.
We must keep taking steps in the same sturdy direction.
Caleb in front of his home during his final three years.
Despite ALL the campus photos, it brings me delight how all our kids commemorate their big days in a place they call home, Peninsula Park, steps from our home, filling the air with the exquisite scent of roses.
To the future!
