When you were young, you were prone to accidents. I thought age would cure it. I kept waiting for it to happen … a season of maturation that would nip said tendencies in the bud.Soon, you’ll turn eighteen, and albeit your accidents mask differently these days, you’ve still got a knack for knocking things over, tripping on rugs, and leaving a trail of milk and cereal while on the way to the couch. We used to tease you that you would be taking your sippy cup with you to the prom.


Tonight, you proved me wrong. I looked for it. I didn’t see it. Instead I saw something different. I saw a young man on his first date, struggling to “get it right,” all the while making his mother proud. There were a few tenuous moments while working the Velcro to attach the corsage, but in the end, you … my boy … gave me a lovely remembrance.


We’ve come a long way son; together we’ve struggled in our maturing, but always have we loved. And I love the man that you are becoming.


Thank you for letting me mother you for a season longer. Soon you will walk across that stage and then, walk on … on to a next that walks, in part, without me. I know you’re ready. I’m not quite there. But just in case I forget to say it in the flurry of the next few weeks…

It’s been my privilege to call you son and to watch you grow beyond your need for sippy cups. You stand at the edge of an extraordinary “next.” Your God has made sure of that, and I will continue to applaud each milestone with all the proud and joy that this mother’s heart can hold.


I love you, Colton. Tonight, you made my heart smile. Deeply. Richly. Far beyond what I ever imagined possible all those years ago. Thanks for allowing me to love you imperfectly. Thank you for forgiving me accordingly.Your best days are ahead of you; walk them … live them … like you mean it, and may you always know in Jesus Christ,

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