Defining My Denial: A Message For My Son, the College Graduate

Denial is sneaky and cruel.

Denial is sneaky, of course, because you don’t know you’re in it.

Denial is cruel because, all at once, the thing you were in denial about is upon you. So you're left groping in the dark, overwhelmed by complex emotions that you feel ill-equipped to process.

This is denial. Sneaky. Cruel.

But once you find yourself coming out of the undertow of those complex emotions, denial can be useful. For denial helps us uncover what we value most.

But first, it would probably be helpful to share what I’ve been in denial about.

My son graduated from college. My firstborn child. My only son. The only child I had for sixteen and a half years. Joshua Anthony Woodall is now a college graduate.

I should be happy, right? And I am.

I should be proud, right? Most certainly I am.

I should be relieved, right? I breathe a little easier now.

I should be thankful to Jesus that He got Josh through to the finish line, right? Oh yes, my heart overflows with thankfulness.

But there are other emotions swirling in this mixture-mess, and I just need to try and articulate them.

There is sadness.

A good definition for sadness: To lose something that brings you joy.

I’m losing joy on many fronts with this milestone. First off, I take great joy in being needed by my kids. Particularly, my son. Long story short - I really wasn’t there for him in his younger years like I should have been. I began to make up for that round-about his middle school years. And since that time, I’ve really been there. I was there for him in hard and good times. We really bonded over the years.

But now, I sense the shift. He really doesn’t need me as much as he once did. In fact, just the other day, he gave me some business advice that I really needed to hear. Ouch, Another reminder that the shift is indeed happening. Who needs whom? To even be asking the question, honestly, it makes me sad. I’m sure this sadness will turn to joy (and hopefully soon). But for now, his diminishing need for me in all things, it’s making me sad.

I’m also losing joy because my son is losing joy. Many refer to college as 'the best time of their lives.” I think my son can make a case for that. His college experience had the makings of “the best of times.” It was very hard. Very rewarding. He built great friendships. He grew tremendously as a man. He grew in his faith. He had lots of fun. If those aren’t the ingredients of “the best of times”, I don’t know another recipe.

But now it’s over. He’s back home and getting ready for his next chapter. And that next chapter is very hard. A career, and probably marriage sooner or later. Responsibilities. And to prepare for all that in this crazy world. Which leads me to my next negative emotion…

I’m scared.

It’s not often that the previous generation will admit this fact: The world is harder now than when we came up. It’s more expensive. It’s more complex. There’s more uncertainty. To coin a phrase from my son, the world is just “extra.”

Josh was 11 days old when I held him with my left arm, bottle fed him with my right hand, and watched the TV in horror as the World Trade Towers fell. Has the world grown more or less secure since then?

So I’m scared. My wife and I are launching a kid into a world that is more complex than we can even define. It’s scary. And because of this I’m leaning into an emotion I don’t have much muscle memory around.

I’m needy.

More specifically, I’m needy before God. Yes, I believe there is a God. And this God is not surprised by anything that is happening in the world. I do believe he’s sad. I don’t believe he’s scared. And I need to believe his good book which says, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him.” (Jeremiah 17:7) I am seeking the blessing of being needy.

This doesn’t feel good. But it does feel right. I’m needy before the God of the universe. I need to trust that he who knows the stars by name will know what my son will need for the days ahead. And I need to trust that God will continue to fashion my son into the man of God this crazy world desperately needs. And I know God will do it. That’s a promise. Not my promise. But His.

Josh, first child and only son, I speak directly to you as I close: “I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” - Philippians 1:6

With love,

Your happy, proud, relieved, thankful, sad, scared and needy Father