Rites of Passage

I was, at the time, the mother of an extremely curious naturalist—a 4 year old boy who collected the discarded cicada husks and offered them as gifts to visitors. And where will I be 17 years from now, when the cicadas next come? Working this year with the Coming of Age class has been an opportunity for me to experience the bittersweet sense of life in transition. I have marveled at the energy and curiosity and goodness of these young people. I have thought about where they will be the next time the cicadas come. They will be poised on the outer edge of young adulthood. Maybe starting a family, maybe parenting their own toddlers, maybe investing in a career. The cicadas seem to make the most of their brief sojourn above-ground. That is what I most wish for the youth of our church— that you will always make the best of the time you have.