Though He Can’t Walk the Stage, My Son Is Graduating From Auburn—And God’s Grace Is Carrying Him Forward

Well, the time has come. I have been posting this all week but each time I held back, not because I wasn’t proud, not because I wasn’t ready to share, but because emotions have a way of catching you off guard when something this meaningful is about to happen. It has been a whirlwind of a week—so many feelings wrapped up into one beautiful, bittersweet truth. My son Robert is graduating from Auburn University. I can hardly believe I just wrote those words. After years of hard work, sacrifices, late nights, challenges, and quiet prayers, that chapter is complete. He will be receiving his diploma, and even though he won’t be walking across the stage with his classmates, the pride I feel for him is just as immense as if he were in the front row.

It’s funny how moments we pray for and dream about can arrive in ways we don’t expect. As a parent, you imagine that perfect image—your child, dressed in a cap and gown, walking confidently across a stage, shaking hands, smiling wide, waving toward the crowd where you’re sitting, tears in your eyes and joy in your heart. You imagine the flash of cameras, the sound of cheers, the hugs after the ceremony. You dream of it all, and then life happens in its own way. Plans shift. Priorities realign. Sometimes it’s work, sometimes it’s responsibilities, sometimes it’s simply a door that opens in a different direction and demands you follow.

In Robert’s case, that direction is Minnesota. He is traveling there in the morning, embarking on a new chapter that holds opportunity, uncertainty, and the promise of a future that only God knows. As I sit with this moment, I ask for your prayers—for safe travels, for peace of mind, for the kind of strength that only comes from walking in faith. Because that’s what this is. A step of faith. A leap, really. And while my heart wishes he could sit with his classmates and feel the applause of the crowd, I know without a doubt that he is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

There’s a phrase I keep repeating to myself lately: “What God has for you, it is for you.” I’ve heard it before, sure. I’ve nodded along in sermons and whispered it under my breath in quiet moments of hope. But now, it feels real. It feels true. I see it in Robert’s life. I see it in the way God has ordered his steps, even when we didn’t understand the direction at the time. I see it in the times when it seemed too hard, too heavy, too far away. I remember the calls where he sounded discouraged, where classes were overwhelming, where the balance between life and school felt impossible. And I remember telling him, “Keep going. You’re almost there.” And now, here we are. There came.

He did it. We did it. God did it. That’s really what this is about—God’s goodness, God’s faithfulness. So many people say, “God is good,” but sometimes we don’t pause long enough to recognize how that goodness has unfolded in our own story. In this case, it’s not just the degree. It’s the journey that led to it. It’s every night he stayed up studying when he was too tired. Every time he put one foot in front of the other, even when he didn’t know where it would lead. Every time he chose discipline over comfort, sacrifice over ease. And somehow, by the grace of God, it all added up to a diploma from Auburn University.

It’s important to say this out loud, because moments like this deserve to be honored. They deserve to be named. Yes, Robert won’t be there to walk the stage. And yes, that stings. There’s no pretending it doesn’t. I wanted to be there in the crowd, clapping and cheering, telling the person next to me, “That’s my boy!” But I’ll tell you something—just because we won’t be in that auditorium doesn’t mean the celebration is any less real. That diploma is not just a piece of paper. It is a testimony. A testament to perseverance. A symbol of everything he overcame to get to this point. And let me say, he earned every bit of it.

There were times when I wasn’t sure how we were going to make it through. College is no small feat, especially when life keeps throwing curveballs. There are financial stresses, mental challenges, unexpected roadblocks. But God carried him through. God carried us through. I’ve watched my son mature in ways that only come through adversity. I’ve seen him become more than a student. I’ve seen him become a man. A man who knows what responsibility looks like. A man who understands commitment. A man who believes in himself because he knows who holds his future.

And while we’re talking about futures, let me say this: Minnesota is not just a destination on a map. It is a divine assignment. It’s a place where I believe God is about to open even more doors. Where Robert will walk into rooms he never imagined, have conversations that will shape his next steps, meet people who will become part of his journey forward. It won’t be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. But I have no doubt that this is part of the plan. A new beginning, planted in faith.

So I sit here with a full heart. Grateful. Emotional. Proud beyond words. I keep thinking about how far we’ve come. About the little boy I dropped off at school so many years ago, who is now a college graduate stepping into his calling. About the prayers I whispered over him while he slept, and the way those prayers have carried us all this time. If you are a parent reading this, you understand. These moments matter more than we can even say. They are proof that love, faith, and persistence make all the difference.

I’ve been quiet all week, waiting for the right words to come. But now I know the words don’t have to be perfect. They just have to be honest. And honestly? My heart is overwhelmed in the best way. I’m going to miss him when he leaves in the morning. That’s the truth. It never gets easier to watch your child head out into the unknown. But I’m also incredibly hopeful, because I know Who’s leading him. I know Who’s already gone ahead of him. I know that what God starts, He finishes.

To everyone who’s been praying with us, encouraging us, showing up for us—thank you. Your support has meant more than you know. And to any parent still waiting for that diploma moment, don’t give up. Keep praying. Keep believing. Keep showing up. Because if there’s anything this journey has taught me, it’s that God’s timing is always right, and His grace is always enough.

Robert, my son, if you read this—I love you. I’m proud of you. I’m with you every step of the way, even if that step takes you far from home. You carry Auburn in your heart, and you carry all of us with you. Go and shine, and never forget Who brought you here.