Our almost four-year old has been in ballet for two whole weeks. In two short classes, she's learned to point her toes, plie,arabesque and pirouette. Not bad for one hour instruction with a dozen giggling preschool girls. I've learned a lot in those two weeks, too.
I've learned that the actual time is of no consequence, what matters is the time on the clock in the ballet classroom.
I've learned that once you tie those little elastic cords on the front of their ballet slippers, you're supposed to tuck them in.
I've learned the difference between "good toes" and "naughty toes".
But most of all, I have learned that watching my daughter find delight brings immeasurable delight to me as well.
She doesn't like class; she adores it.
She prances, she hops, she listens, she claps- all with this look of complete euphoria. And as she marches around and 'paints' with her scarf, she turns and looks for me.
Mommy, do you see me? Can you believe this, that I am doing this?
I smile and give her a thumbs up.
The first week, I teared up a little, watching her so full of wonder at this new place she was in. Then I sighed, content, that this drive across town and schedule rearranging and new step was so worth it.
Lately I've been thinking of my heavenly Father, wondering if he experiences that when He sees me living my every day life. What kinds of things produce that joy, that wonder, that feeling of privilege and opportunity and hope in me?
I'm fairly certain I don't beam like that when I watch netflix, scroll facebook, or mindlessly browse the internet. There's no turning to him in those, Do you see me? Can you believe that I get to do this with my life?
Not so much.
But there are things that make me feel that way: being a mom, gathering my family around our chaotic table, reflecting on the armfuls of good people who share in my life, writing my book, long talks with my husband, and fresh truth. Each of those wows me a bit, widens my eyes and leaves me with a sense of blessing.
Who am I, that I should get to live here, with these sweet souls, a valued member in a faithful band of Christ chasers?
Who am I, that life would work out this way, giving me a relational wealth that truly astounds me?
And hopefully, oh how I hope I do this, hopefully I do these things, and I look over to Him who brought me to them.
Do you see me? Can you believe that I am doing this?
And I think that brings Him joy, maybe tears, as He watches me dance in the kitchen or laugh in the car or bite my lip as I type into the night.
I have long been haunted and encouraged by the line from Sara Groves,
Now I live and I breathe for an audience of One.
But it changes it a little to consider that He is not 'an audience' because I'm performing. He is my audience because He brought me here, is watching my delight, is right here with me in the things that make my soul sing.