Graduation Conversation

At my high school graduation, there were the usual guest speakers who blabbed incessantly about reaching our potential, chasing our dreams, and other well meaning inspirational drivel. I couldn’t tell you who the valedictorian was. None of the speeches were memorable to me. I do remember the overnight party held afterwards, where the entire graduating class stayed up all night at a local private gym. We swam, watched movies, ate unhealthy food, and laughed a lot. In the morning, everyone was treated to a delicious pancake breakfast in the school gym. There were raffle prizes to win as well. I was ecstatic when my name was called and they told me I’d won a television.

All my visions of being the coolest freshman at my future dorm vanished as I received my prize. I won the world’s smallest portable t.v. You probably own a cellphone with a bigger screen than this t.v. had.  To make matters worse, it was a black and white television. Color t.v. had been around for thirty five years by that point, so I found that particularly insulting. I’m confident I invented re-gifting in that moment.

What I remember from graduation is more of a who I remember. In my four years of high school, I walked by a gangly red headed teenage boy named Tom Francis a thousand times. I never paid him one iota of attention in the halls during frenetic class changes.  Don’t interpret this as rudeness, Tom and I were just not in the same social circles, and my teenage self wasn’t going to cross that divide without reason.

As God would arrange it, Tom Francis and I were the last two students to be picked up from the graduation party. My classmates were strictly forbidden from driving home for fear we’d fall asleep at the wheel.  My mother probably wanted her final precious minutes of sleep, and I don’t blame her. I am exactly like that, a passionate sleeper.

As the final two students remaining, Tom Francis and I began making conversation. Within minutes, I realized that I’d missed out over the past four years. Tom was sweet, kind and gregarious. I was enjoying talking to him. Just as I was hoping for more time to get to know him, my mother arrived. I said a wistful goodbye and stepped into the next chapter of my life.

I never saw Tom Francis again. However, the memory of that friendly conversation, his blue eyes and his warm smile remain the strongest memory from my graduation night. The lessons learned from that moment are what I want to share with you.

First, remember it’s God’s calendar. You are in that moment, with that person, because God arranged it. Be open to a divine appointment. Psalm 118:24 – “This is the day the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Don’t be afraid to open yourself up to new people.  The reward can well be worth the risk.

Love people – as Jesus loves you. Share the hope of Jesus with them. You may be in their life for only a few minutes but let them walk away better for knowing you.  You may be someone else’s Tom Francis – a crystallized memory from an otherwise blurry day.

Some people are in your life for a far shorter time than you wish for. But investing in them is worth it, as their memory remains to guide and comfort you.

Finally, black and white tvs are crappy gifts. Be a good gift giver.