I watched my daughter perform on stage this weekend. For the first time. As a freshman, she won the part of Bloody Mary in her school’s production of South Pacific.
And she was great!
I sat and cried as she made the audience laugh with her antics and her “Tonkanese” accent and then SANG her songs, even after prolonged protestations to her teacher that she couldn’t sing.
I hooted and hollered at the curtain call, tears thick in my throat again. I jumped over seats trying to reach her as she came off stage, but was crowded out by others seeking to congratulate her as well. I didn’t know she could really pull it off. She didn’t know if she could really pull it off. But she did. And I was so proud.
Later that night, I wondered if God feels anything like I did. I watched my child stretch to reach a goal and then succeed, watched her work through discouragement and nay-sayers, tiredness and busyness, to attain a certain level of performance. Is that the way it is when I—a child of God—write? Does He cheer me on, eager for me to succeed? Encouraging me to keep working? Leading the ovations when everything comes together and the creative gift He has given me is played out on a stage bigger than my immediate family and close friends? More importantly, is that the way God feels when I live? When I react to people and situations in a way that glorifies Him?
I think so. I think we feel proud as parents because God made us to feel that way. He made us to understand in some tiny form what He feels for us.
I am so proud of my daughter. And I’m so thankful that God used this time to remind me that He is a my proud parent as well—in what I do, but even more importantly, in who I am while I am doing it.