It can be difficult to declare one’s beliefs in today’s society without encountering opposition. Micah Price, a Campbell County High School alumnus from Alexandria, Kentucky, found himself in this situation. Micah bravely shared his faith in Jesus Christ during his graduation speech, which caused the institution to first withhold his diploma.
Micah was allowed to mention Jesus Christ in his speech on May 24 at Northern Kentucky University’s commencement ceremony, which took place at Truist Arena. He took use of the occasion to exhort other Christians to maintain their faith. He was met with thunderous ovation from the crowd as he said, “Class, before another word leaves my mouth, I must give the honor, the praise, and the glory to my lord and savior Jesus Christ.”
Micah declared, “Who in his very words tells us he is the light, he is the way, the truth, and the life,” going beyond simple acknowledgment. I’m here to inform the class and everyone in the audience today that if you don’t have any of those things in your life and you’re having trouble finding the solution, then my lord and savior is the solution. The audience applauded this sincere message, but school administrators were not happy with his deviation from the authorized script.
Following his speech, Micah was approached by administrators from the school, informing him that he would have to defend his actions to the board of education. He received a rebuke from the school and had his diploma temporarily delayed. As Micah said in a TikTok video, “I went off script during the speech, so one of the principals came in, tapped me on the shoulder, and very politely and professionally told me that I was going to have to go in front of the board and explain what I did.”
Micah had previously been permitted to name his “lord and savior Jesus Christ” by the Campbell County School District, but they had required he adhere to the preapproved script. “All speakers were told that going off their submitted speech, or any unplanned choices at graduation, may have repercussions as they would at any school function,” Superintendent Shelli Wilson said in her explanation. Other than this outpouring of Christian faith, off-program decisions like political election remarks, incorrect language use, or speech, signs, and caps supporting any cause or religion could have the opposite effect.
But Micah remained steadfast in his convictions. He said that in order to prevent dividing the audience, the additional preaching that was originally included in his screenplay was removed at the school’s request. He told WKRC, “I think it was okay that I thanked him, but maybe it wasn’t what they wanted when I went in and pushed them to follow him and other Christians to stand up and talk about him.”
Though they had been reprimanded, Micah didn’t feel bad for the school administrators since he understood they were just carrying out their duties. He said, accepting full responsibility for his acts, “I follow God’s instructions, not anyone else’s. Thus, I am the one at fault if anyone is. I should be punished. When Micah finally got his certificate after a protracted holiday weekend, he described it as “an answered prayer.”
Micah, who is planning to enrol in the US Air Force Academy, is unwavering in his convictions and has no regrets. “Holding it is simply a prayer that has been answered; nothing more,” he uttered. Many find encouragement in Micah’s steadfast faith and bravery in defending his convictions, which demonstrate the strength of willpower and conviction in the face of difficulty.
Micah’s story serves as a reminder of the value of standing up for our values in a world when it might be difficult to communicate such beliefs. His story inspires others to be brave and unyielding in their convictions by demonstrating the power of strong character and the significant influence of unflinching faith.
MY HUSBAND LEFT ME WITH KIDS AND ALL THIS HEAVY LUGGAGE TO GET HOME ON MY OWN WHILE HE HUNG OUT WITH FRIENDS – THE LESSON I TAUGHT HIM WAS HARSH.
The roar of the airplane engines faded into the background as I stepped off the plane, two tired toddlers clinging to my legs. I scanned the crowd, expecting to see Tom, my husband, his familiar smile a welcome sight after a long flight. But he wasn’t there.
I called him, my heart sinking with each unanswered ring. Finally, he picked up, his voice casual, almost breezy. “Hey, honey! How was the flight?”
“Where are you?” I asked, my voice tight. “You were supposed to pick us up.”
“Oh, right!” he said, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “Mike called. He’s in town, and we decided to grab a drink. Just for a few hours. You can manage, right?”
“Manage?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Tom, I have two toddlers, a stroller, and three heavy suitcases. I can’t ‘just manage’!”
“Come on, it’s just for a few hours. You can manage,” he replied again, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his voice.
I hung up, my anger a burning ember in my chest. He had abandoned me, his family, for a few hours of drinks with a friend. I felt a surge of resentment, a feeling that had been simmering for years, now boiling over.
The next few hours were a blur of chaos. I struggled to wrangle the kids, their tired whines echoing through the airport. I wrestled the stroller, a monstrous contraption designed to fold with the dexterity of a Rubik’s Cube, and lugged the suitcases, each one a testament to the sheer volume of “essential” items toddlers require.
By the time I finally made it home, I was exhausted, my body aching, my patience frayed. But as I collapsed onto the couch, a plan began to form in my mind. Tom had underestimated me. He had assumed I would simply accept his dismissive attitude, his blatant disregard for my time and effort. He was wrong.
The next day, I woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. I packed a small bag, kissed the kids goodbye, and left a note on the kitchen table.
“Gone to visit a friend. Will be back when I feel like it. You can manage, right?”
I drove to a nearby spa, a place I had always wanted to visit but never had the time or money for. I spent the day indulging in massages, facials, and manicures, reveling in the quiet solitude.
I turned off my phone, ignoring the barrage of calls and texts from Tom. I wanted him to experience what I had experienced: the feeling of being abandoned, of being taken for granted.
The next day, I went shopping, buying myself a new outfit, a pair of designer shoes, and a luxurious handbag. I spent the evening at a fancy restaurant, savoring a delicious meal and a glass of wine.
I returned home late that night, to find Tom pacing the living room, his face etched with worry. The kids were asleep, the house a mess.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice laced with anxiety.
“Out,” I replied, my voice cool.
“Out? All day? All night?”
“Yes,” I said, “I needed some time to myself.”
“But… but the kids,” he stammered. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You managed,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with confusion and a dawning realization. “You… you did this on purpose.”
“Yes, Tom,” I said, “I did. I wanted you to understand what it feels like to be left alone, to be taken for granted.”
He looked down at his feet, shamefaced. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think…”
“That’s the problem, Tom,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “You didn’t think. You assumed I would always be there, always manage, no matter what.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I understand,” he said. “I won’t do it again.”
I looked at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. I saw genuine regret, a flicker of understanding.
“Good,” I said. “Because I won’t tolerate it again.”
From that day on, Tom was a changed man. He became more attentive, more considerate, more appreciative of my time and effort. He learned that partnership meant sharing the load, not dumping it all on one person.
And I learned that sometimes, a little bit of payback can go a long way in teaching a valuable lesson.
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