Crossing the Bar

My family and I are sitting on the back patio of one of my favorite restaurants. This is the halfway point between home and my new apartment. The hour-and-a-half drive was a long one on a weeknight, but we had to celebrate.

“Passing the bar exam is a big deal,” my dad says. His voice is serious, but he’s also smiling. “Remind me,” he says. “Why do they call it the bar?”

“There’s an actual bar in most courtrooms,” I say. “It divides the attorneys from the people watching the trial. You can’t pass that physical bar without passing the exam.”

My dad nods. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “This is an accomplishment that sets you apart.”

I mull over his words. I don’t feel set apart. In fact, all day I’ve been reflecting on the people who God has placed alongside me. The people who helped me get to this point and who helped make me into the man I am.

My mom, who taught me to love learning. Who read me books until their bindings fell apart. Who taped those books back together and read them another hundred times.

My dad, who showed me that the most fulfilling thing you can do with your life is to fill other people up.

A boss who taught me the pride of working until my hands were raw.

A firefighter who held me when I was fading.

A girl who taught me how to laugh, how to love, then how to let go.

A friend who was brave enough to call out my fault when I was ignorant to it.

I still interact with some of these people daily. Others I haven’t talked to in years. Still, each was a part of my life when I needed them. So when I finally enter the courtroom as an attorney, I’ll remember those people and the One who brought us together. Without them, I’d never be able to cross that bar.