'In Heaven there are no do-overs'

I love graduations. Weeks ahead of time, seniors and their families begin to gear up for a whirlwind of festivities. Invitations are sent for get-togethers at graduates' houses where mini "shrines" will be set up to commemorate high school accomplishments. Food is prepared and frozen in anticipation of relatives descending in droves, and as the weekend approaches, houses are spit-shined, with even the teen's bedroom organized and the bed made. For some, a first.

This year was no exception. I mapped out my visits based on open-house schedules. Balloons, streamers -- even DVD's of vocal performances and slides of special memories -- signified the importance of the occasion. All to honor the one who had grueled out 13 years of learning, the one who now hopefully would use that experience to move up and move on.

For me, the hugs were bittersweet. These students would no longer be a part of my daily activities. They would take their incredible talents to some other instructor who would have the privilege of watching them mature, just as I did. But hearing them talk of their future with such excitement helped me to forget -- at least temporarily -- what I will miss, and remember to celebrate what they will gain.

At baccalaureate this year, two seniors, Rebekah and Grant, addressed their classmates. We audience members heard of choices that had been made that were painful reminders of how they had disappointed the Lord and how each of us carries emotional and spiritual baggage, decisions we regret and actions we would like to do over. The speakers challenged us listeners to change our course, make a choice for God, and then to mature in our relationship with Him.

As a teacher/director who has spent hundreds of hours with Rebekah and Grant, I couldn't help but marvel at how each had grown in the Lord over the past couple of years. Their sweet spirits had touched lives. They hadn't preached their faith -- they had lived it. Many other graduates had done likewise.

I was proud that so many had made choices they would never regret: To boldly encourage classmates to forego the drinking scene, even though that earned them the label "nerd" and "goody-two-shoes"; to profess to wait for marriage to have sex; to rise above their home lives where their parents were involved in drugs or violence and sometimes, psychotic behavior; and to say good-bye to friendships that were not edifying the Christian faith.

At the same time, however, I was saddened by consequences some had reaped: A diploma not granted because classes weren't taken seriously; a reputation for partying that cost more than one scholarship; a pregnant girl whose boyfriend -- the one who had professed his undying love to her -- had found that being tied down wasn't all it was cracked up to be; and a sadness in many because they didn't make more of their high school careers.

Most of our seniors received their diplomas that night. They met the state goals and graduated. They will not return to FSHS next year and refuse to leave. At least I hope not. Yet far too many Christians do just that. They refuse to move from milk to meat, and in most cases, they don't even recognize that should be their goal. Maybe it's time to apply the advice given by Rebekah and Grant and get rid of the baggage we've been carrying for far too long so that we, too, can spiritually graduate and receive the only diploma that really matters -- the one that grants us eternity in Heaven.

Those who failed to graduate from high school this year will be given another chance to meet the requirements to receive their diplomas. Not so for us. When we stand before God, we won't be given the same opportunity, for in Heaven there are no do-overs. And just like this year's seniors, the choice is ours.