graduation Archives - Kristin Saatzer

I knew he did not want to face his mother falling apart that early September morning (or any day, really). But there I was in the kitchen, in my oh-so-attractive green robe, sporting wild bedhead, willing the tears to stop. I watched as my beloved third son pushed back his chair from the table and carried his cereal bowl to the sink.

Senior Year was already picking up steam. I learned with sons one and two how this final year of high school feels like it’s only two weeks long. During this kitchen-moment, as I observed my boy move through ordinary actions, I was struck anew with pointed awareness that this season of my life with Josiah would soon be finished. Emotions rushed to the surface as I pondered how unready I was to say good-bye to the everyday-ness of mothering this young man.

“Please let me mother you a little longer!”

No, I did not say these words aloud because, you know, psycho momma in the morning and all. Yet, this desire to hold onto him, to care for him, lives in me daily.

In reality, not much “mommying” happens the last year of high school. Senior Year Mom is a secretary, a cook, a cheerleader, and a money dispenser, who cries a lot.

Senior Year Mom takes morbid delight when her kid gets sick or needs her to take him to the dentist or doctor. She relishes the time spent together doing anything because he is gone so darn much and is terribly independent. She delights in his presence and hangs on his every word. Even when he rolls his eyes or gets irritated with her when he loses his own car keys, Senior Year Mom doesn’t mind. As much.

I savor the small moments: hearing him laugh with his little brother, listening to him playing the piano as I cook dinner, and watching him greet the dog as he steps through the door.

If I could measure the hours spent in prayer for this son and his three brothers, it might equal months. If I could hold the tears that fell while on my knees, they might fill a small pond.

I prayed for my sons to be men of character. That they would have hearts for the broken. That God would shape them and refine them. But I did not want them to undergo refinement by fire. My plan was not to fill a pond with my tears. I wanted safe, happy, wholesome lives for my precious ones. Yes, I knew some trials must happen, and I conceded to the Lord there. But God, no biggies, please.

God did not obey.

Graduations bring reflection and sentimentality, don’t they? I find myself in that mode as another graduation approaches.

Motherhood surpasses anything in my natural gifting, energy level, and temperament. Had you told me in my youth I would be a mom someday, I would have laughed! Had you told me I would birth and raise four boys, I would have passed out or slapped you. It was not part of my plan.

But God.

His purposes for me blew up my imaginings and ideas for my life.

After five years of marriage, Dan and I became parents to Samuel. And I was born anew. Changed by love.

After Sammy, came Noah. Baby Noah loved his mommy. Sammy had been an equal opportunity baby. Not Noah. He was all about mom.

For eleven years (and two brothers later), Noah was my biggest fan: wanting to be my partner in games, insisting I cuddle with him every night, daily sharing his heart with me, and doing his school work attached to my side.

As his hormones invaded, things changed for us. My biggest fan grew distant. My silly, joyful-boy grew sad and serious. Because of Noah’s fast-flooding hormones- brooding and resentment took hold. He viewed me as his foe and was no longer my biggest fan.

It crushed me.

By observing friends, talking with my husband, and reading parenting books on boys, I knew this was somewhat normal and I had certainly experienced it with my first son.

However, this time, it grieved me deeply. In my gut, I felt betrayed. Even though my rational self said otherwise.

But pain is a tool for growth, isn’t it? Pain is a tool God uses to strip away our reliance on the love and acceptance of others. Motherhood strips me clean and draws me closer to God like nothing else. Nothing.

Raw experiences in my journey with Noah, disloyalty, and rejection by loved ones led me to the unfailing, unconditional love of God. I needed to understand and believe it, to live in it. So, I filled my heart daily with big doses of God’s word, my healing balm. I meditated on scripture that spoke of God’s unconditional love and acceptance for me. His unfailing love was my comfort as Psalm 119:76 says.

And His unfailing love is my comfort. When feelings of rejection or insecurity sneak in, I return to His word, His truth, my healing balm.

Noah’s high school graduation is only days away. I will be joining other parents watching from the stands dabbing at the waterworks streaming down our cheeks. A mom, grateful and proud as I honor my boy who has accomplished so much after pushing through many bumps (and boulders) along his path. A mom, shaped by pain and loved by an amazing God whose love never quits.

Tonight as I type, I weep. Graduation gratefulness stirring in me as I reflect. Tears of deep, deep thankfulness flow because Noah and I have arrived at a precious place together. Our relationship- one marked by pain, love, and God’s perfect grace.