God looked down from heaven and wanted to give a gift to the world.

He wanted to give the world someone poised at the end of one journey and the beginning of the next, someone looking back and looking forward in both directions at once.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who had already learned so much but still had so much to learn.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who could grieve the loss of what was supposed to be and then bravely take hold of what could still be, someone who would give grace a name and gratitude a voice.

So God made a senior.  

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He wanted to give the world someone to make parents and grandparents laugh and cry, hold on and let go, catch their breath and exhale . . . someone they’d point to with pride and say, “That’s my graduate.”

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who would be full of energy and optimism for the future . . . someone excited to teach, create, study, design, build, research, serve, help, and lead.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who would follow the footsteps marked out ahead for them but who would also make their own new path for others to walk in someday.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone to recognize, honor, and applaud.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who could testify to struggles, defeats, and disappointments that eventually turned into lessons and victories.

So God made a senior.

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He wanted to give the world someone with stories to tell. Stories from classrooms and laboratories and libraries. Stories from stages and dressing rooms and auditoriums. Stories from playing fields and team buses. Stories from locker rooms and sidelines.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who had fought for friendship and emerged with relationships that would last forever. And, He wanted to give the world someone who had taken a chance on friendship and lost but was still willing to try again.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone to celebrate, someone to inspire parties large and small. Parties on lawns and in cleaned-out garages. Parties with chocolate fountains and taco bars. Parties with walls of pictures and tables of awards. Parties where everyone would talk to other people while they waited, patiently, to talk to one person.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone to show what hard work, dedication, and perseverance could accomplish. And, He wanted to give the world someone to show teachers what all their hard work, dedication, and perseverance had accomplished.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world hope.

So God made a senior.

He wanted to give the world someone who would embody the past, present, and future, all wrapped up in one gorgeous, cap-and-gowned package.

So God made a senior.

God looked at what He had made and saw that it was very, very good.

So God blessed this senior . . . and gave a gift to the world.

Elizabeth Spencer

Elizabeth Spencer is mom to two daughters (one teen and one young adult) who regularly dispense love, affection, and brutally honest fashion advice. She writes about faith, food, and family (with some occasional funny thrown in) at Guilty Chocoholic Mama and avoids working on her 100-year-old farmhouse by spending time on Facebook and Twitter.