I'm just a little girl caught in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show

(lyrics from The Show –by Lenka)

 

Before we get started, those lyrics are about me, not Rylie.

 

This has been an anxious week.  May was anxious too because Rylie decided to perform for the Variety Show at school. I'm just going to go ahead and tell you that I tried to talk her out of it. I even offered to allow her to skip school and do something fun in lieu of participating in the show. Rylie once asked me if I was a "Helicopter Mom"; in other words a smother mother. I think this attempted stunt to avoid the variety show answers that question.

I just worry.

To begin with, the words Rylie and microphone are redundant. She lives loud. Giving her a microphone, a stage and an audience is just plain dangerous.

See what I mean?  Who knows what she's doing here.  This was her last play.  The whole hat pulled down with her arms crossed wasn't in the part.  She told me that she'd decided to "go off script".

Any of the three above (microphone, stage or audience) invite some sort of Super Rylie to emerge. She's likely to come up with spontaneous choreography, or lyrics, or both. Not knowing what to expect scares me senseless.

I wasn't sure how she'd be received. Of course, I love her to pieces. And yes I love hearing her sing. But as a parent I don't want her to waste her talent singing for anybody who doesn't appreciate her offering. Not knowing what to expect, or even worse, expecting the worst scares me senseless.

Would the microphone make that awful screechy sound if she held it too close? What if she trips on the way up? What if she forgets the words? What if the audience doesn't clap? What if some kid insults her performance? Would she get off beat?

When she told me that she wanted to sing, the first thing I did was order a magic trick from Amazon.com. If she was determined to perform, I thought it safer to perform a fail-proof magic trick. It was one of those cool blue and red scarfs. All she had to do was say a couple of cute words and presto-chango the scarf turns magically to yellow and green. I want to leave little margin for mess-up.  She wasn't having it though, so I slyly bullied her into doing the safest song I could come up with. It was short and sweet. And it was a song from the hit "Frozen" so it had to be popular. Who doesn't love Frozen for crying out loud?

I was a wreck this morning. Then just about the time the tardy bell rang in the school hall I finally did what I should have been doing all along. I prayed. Not that I haven't been praying about this situation, but this prayer was sort of a "I give" prayer; A "now that I've fashioned this experience to the best of my ability and still ended up NOT in control" prayer. I prayed that God would be present. I thought of all of things that His presence assures. God's presence makes her safe. I began to realize that there was nothing that could happen to her outside his control. I was reminded that His presence meant that she would be surrounded by love whether or not that love came in the form of human accolades. I prayed for peace and realized somewhere in the midst of my frantic uttering that my pleadings were more needed for myself than for my trusting, innocent eight year old.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened and do not be dismayed, for the Lord is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

She sang this morning with an unplanned twirl or two. People clapped. She smiled. It was beautiful just like every other single act that was performed this morning.

I realized that the stage she sang on was much smaller than I had imagined it in my mind. The real stage is much larger and I'm on it too. In my nervous dance this morning, I decided to do my own unplanned spin. I prayed the kind of prayer that comes from a desperate heart. I prayed earnestly. And I decided to trust.

Hayden is now officially a Senior. Hallie starts her last year of Junior High in August. Rylie will be facing the dreaded STAAR test next year. I want to be a director of this thing called life. I want to write the parts, and the ending to each act. But I know pretty well that I'm more of a participant alongside these three. May they see me trust as I walk beside them. May they see me be strong and courageous in the parts that unexpectedly become a part of the script.

All my fears, and grand ideas, my control….

I've got to let it go.

And just enjoy the show