Actors in Our Midst (Or: Are these really MY children?!)

I remember being in various Sunday School presentations around Christmas, especially since my dad was the S.S. Superintendent for many, many years. As much as I adore Christmas, any kind of performance is certainly not my forte. I remember feeling the need to vomit with a one-liner in front of the entire congregation (and we were a big church, with many, many eyes ...), or my little hands shaking before we had to sing "Ring the Bells" to Mrs. Jager's quaky direction and my grandma on piano. I've gotten over those fears now, having been in many choirs in my adult years and the shakes are gone. But the memories remain.

Yesterday was our church's Sunday School Christmas program (or Kids' Church, as we call it here) and Aidan was beyond excited when he came home with his "assignment" -- four songs and a line to say. But then there's little Grace ... who cannot stand to be excluded from anything. She had practiced the songs with her big brother, she had attended the rehearsal ... so of course she had every intention of being a part of Sunday's event, even though she is only 3 and too young for Kids' Church. Thankfully Brenda, the Kids' Church director, and Jacie, who directed the music, were OK with it. Phew -- crisis and meltdown averted.

The kids were herded off to a room before the service started, and Don and I took our seats close to the front -- close enough to make a quick grab for Grace should she decide to break out into her own song-and-dance. Then, it began. The little kids processed in, some smiling broadly, some quite serious. It was then that my own memories poured in, and while my hands didn't shake, I did feel the nerves -- a transference of some kind, I'm sure, for my kids certainly had no problem whatsoever being in the public eye. There walked Aidan, tall and confident, a small smile across his face, calm and happy yet serious with his usual determination. Grace trotted -- literally -- next to him, absolutely in her glory. She was smiling, overjoyed, looking so cute in her bright red jumper with the small green Christmas tree on the front. You could see so clearly that this was her moment.

And then it happened. As the kids walked up to the risers, Aidan took his place, and somehow another little girl got out of line and stood next to Aidan ... stood in Grace's spot. Grace didn't know what to do -- someone had stolen her place! So she did what she does best ... she freaked. Loudly.

"HEY! That's my place! I want to stand next to Aidan! Waaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!"

Mouth open wide, tears spilling, absolute fury on her face. My fingers immediately went to my mouth, ready to start biting those nails. My stomach turned. Oh no!!! People started laughing ... attention was being drawn to my kids ... to me ... But thank goodness the kids resolved the problem themselves. Aidan turned toward the little girl next to him, asked her to move, which she did. Grace scooted over to Aidan, nose Rudolph-red, eyes shining with residual tears, a little smile. Victory for her. I sighed deeply as my heart resumed its normal rhythm. That was a close one.

I'm happy to say that the rest of the program went on without the proverbial hitch -- at least as far as my kids were concerned. In fact, it was downright enjoyable for me, my eyes glued to my precious little ones. I was so proud of them! They sing beautifully, and loudly, Aidan possessing his daddy's natural projection, his little voice carrying oh-so-effortlessly across the sanctuary. I was thrilled to see him so comfortable, so at ease, so confident -- so not me -- not a single nerve twitching. He enjoyed himself immensely.

And then Grace ... my little girl, keeping up with "the big boys." She exceeded my expectations a hundred-fold. She sang so sweetly, so loudly, also having no trouble with projection. Her eyes were bright, her head held high, belting out the carols that she just learned the day before. She stood in her spot, no dancing, no dress lifting, no nose picking. And the final number -- "Go, Tell it On the Mountain" -- was a winner. She looked around at the congregation, taking it all in ... and then she started clapping, perfect rhythm, inviting the crowd to join in. She smiled widely, watching how people reacted to her. She got her first taste of it -- and I know there's no going back. She ate it up and kept on clapping. She's a natural worship leader, it seems!

I am truly in awe of my children ... how they are "flesh of my flesh," yet so incredibly unique, so different from me in so many ways. I love the fact that they can do things that I can't -- or that I can, but with some difficulty and strain. I love their confidence, their lack of fear or any inhibition that I had felt at their age. They possess every one of Daddy's acting/performance gene (and thankfully, my sense of rhythm!!), something that I lack. What in the world does God have in store for them?

It was a gift for me to watch them shine yesterday.