A Degree of Her Own

“Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6 (NIV)

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There are moments in life that feel like a big exhale—the kind that settle deep into your bones and whisper, “Full circle.” This weekend was one of those moments for me. My oldest daughter, Ashlyn, graduated from college.

Cue the tears. Cue the pride. Cue the how-is-this-my-life realization.

To say I’m proud of her doesn’t even scratch the surface. This diploma? It’s more than a piece of paper. It’s a badge of grit. A testimony to determination. A chapter closed, and a new one has just begun.

Ashlyn has always been a force. The kid who laughed the loudest, danced without shame, devoured books, quoted movies, and somehow made being smart and stubborn look cute. 

But what most people don’t see behind her quick wit and contagious smile is the quiet strength she carries. At eight years old, Ashlyn was diagnosed with trichotillomania—an anxiety disorder that could have defined her. Instead, she met it head-on with grace and grit, never once letting it win.

She’s the girl who pushed through transfers, long work shifts, late-night papers, and full-time adulting—and still managed to show up for others, love big, and make us laugh through it all.

She didn’t chase this degree for applause or accolades. She chased it for closure. For completion. For her. And watching her robe up, line up, and walk across that stage was a moment I’ll never forget. I saw more than a graduate—I saw a woman who finished what she started.

And in true Ashlyn fashion, she did it her way.

She reminded me again that our kids are often our greatest teachers. She’s taught me that perseverance doesn’t need to be loud. That finishing something, especially when no one would blame you for quitting, is holy ground. And she paved a new path. She did something no one else in our immediate family had done—she went all the way and earned that degree. And she did it while standing on her own two feet.

Ashlyn, you didn’t just make us proud. You marked a moment. You shifted the story. And you proved that finishing matters, not for the paper, but for the person it shapes you into.

I love you, Ashlyn Rae, and never forget: “Your whole life is ahead of you.” — Donna, Mamma Mia!

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My Prayer:

Jesus,

Thank You for being the Author and Finisher of our stories. Thank You for the full-circle moments that stop us in our tracks and remind us of Your faithfulness. I lift up every daughter walking through something hard right now. May they find their grit, their grace, and their God-given determination to finish what they’ve started. And thank You for Ashlyn—may her life continue to shine bright and lead others to You.

Amen.