Graduation Day 2025

We are finally here. Graduation Day 2025.

I can still vividly remember my own high school graduation more clearly, even than my college one. Maybe it’s because of the mindset I was in during those two very different seasons of life. In high school, you believe those friends around you will always be your tribe as you set out to explore the real world. But what life teaches you, slowly and surely, is that growth takes you places you never imagined, and people come and go.

What I had to learn through years of college and young adulthood, Addie has already faced with grace. The world has grown up so much since my time. It moves faster, speaks louder, and carries more labels than ever before. Even within a 60-mile radius, it feels like different worlds exist. And yet, Addie has always stayed rooted in who she is.

Reflection on what was and what will be always comes from a state of faith. If I could tell Addie anything about these life lessons is that God is always the center of EVERYTHING! I remember my mom talking about faith and making us go to church. As a kid, it was something we had to do. As an adult, it's all about your relationship with Christ, and it's a choice. I am so blessed to have a God-fearing, Jesus-loving young woman, and I pray that Stone will one day come to feel that same spirit, that same peace.

This past week, I found myself caught up in what others might think. But Scott, as always, brings me back to what matters. When the weather’s warm, we don’t watch TV, we “porch sit.” We listen to music, talk, and just be. The stories shared under the shade of those front yard trees over the last 22 years could fill a book. It’s a rhythm of life that small towns still afford; a kind of peace that isn’t found in clean houses or perfect plans.

“No one will ever say, ‘Dang, she had a clean house,’ when you die,” Scott always reminds me when I get caught up in the details. And he’s right. That’s not what lasts. It's the time with your people, in the moment, that creates picturesque memories.

So here’s where my blogging has taken me today: Have we given her what she needs to grow beyond us? To build a life richer and wiser than ours?

She is strong in her faith. She leads with character and doesn’t care what others think, not out of pride, but out of peace. She’s chosen a path in speech and language pathology, inspired by real-life experiences. She is honest, hardworking, and kind. Her photographic brain, like her dad's, has helped her academically, but she’s also had to work hard to manage the anxious heart she inherited from me.

And through it all, I believe deeply that the greatest lessons start at home. Teachers can do a lot, but families must live the values they hope to pass on. I pray we’ve been that example for her.

When Stone was born, I promised Addie there would always be one song that belonged just to her:
“You are my sunshine.” That hasn’t changed. (see the video in the FB comments- downloading is not my friend this morning)

Addison, I know I’ll have to do some growing of my own this year — learning how to let go and cheer from a little farther away. But I remind myself: God didn’t give you to me to keep. He gave me the gift of raising you, preparing you to go out and do His work in the world.

Go be the hands and feet of Jesus. Be the light you believe exists in this world. Find your path. Live in the moment. Shine your light on others.

Addie's Grad Cap

You may be taking your sunshine to Muncie, but the warmth of your growth, your joy, and your faith will always reach me.

I love you, Addie, and I am so incredibly proud of you.
Today is just the beginning: the first step toward the life you get to create. A life filled with your people, your traditions, and your faith.

And no matter where that life takes you, you’ll always know where home is. (Yes, bring the laundry when you come to see me- just come see me!)

Just Love,

Mom